when all else fails.

[ixero.livejournal.com]

[he's stretches across a couch, belly down and with a writing utensil at hand. he's sucking noisily on some candy or another, scribbling words down on a piece of paper.]

I have no talent.

[he dully announces, reading over his poem. 'when you are sad, my heart gets mad, it's like a bald guy named chad.']

Comments

[chosen-key.livejournal.com]

Y-yes you d-do.

[on your back now.]

[ixero.livejournal.com]

Ungh--

[grunts, trying to look over.]

Not in writing.

[chosen-key.livejournal.com]

Don't u-use r-r-rhymes? N-near rh-rhymes work.

[hugging your chest, Roxas. he has no problem with this gay-ish position but do you?]

[ixero.livejournal.com]

[problem? what problem. he's had to deal with his room hall smelling like sex for the past week. he's been feeling awfully frustrated so he appreciates just about anything.]

I guess.

[chosen-key.livejournal.com]

[so just watches your paper and goes over words in his head. --oh wait! takes that pencil and writes out--]

I like it when you're scantily clad

[ixero.livejournal.com]

[shjsdvhgdsf]

Sora!

[chosen-key.livejournal.com]

[laughingggg.]

It rhymes!

[ixero.livejournal.com]

This is a poem about you.

[facepalminggg.]

[chosen-key.livejournal.com]

[jfksl;afsdafsd erases that, then.]

W-Why're you making a poem about me?

[ixero.livejournal.com]

Because you're the only one here I constantly worry about.

[sighs.]

[chosen-key.livejournal.com]

[... frowns.]

Why? You should worry about Kairi and Axel and Riku too--oh!

[speaking normally again, yay.]

[ixero.livejournal.com]

[it makes him smile. thank god.]

Axel can take care of himself. So can Riku. Axel's there to take care of Kairi. I know you can take care of yourself, but ... I don't know.

It just seems like people around here are a lot more intent on hurting guys who look like you.

[chosen-key.livejournal.com]

[bites his lip, running a hand through his hair and looking down.]

Well... you're right. Most of them are. But I know how to steer clear of 'em. Besides, I have my knife, so 'm safe.

[lostmycause.livejournal.com]

Bored? [Oh hey, there's an Axel leaning over the arm of the couch, trying to read your poem. Recognize ol' scar-face up here?]

[ixero.livejournal.com]

I think if there was a word for more-than-dead-bored, that'd be about it.

[slaps his hand over his poem, which has doodles of fish and stars and checker patterns along the side.]

How're you?

[lostmycause.livejournal.com]

Aww, hey, I was trying to read that...

I'm not bad. Better than dead, at least.

[ixero.livejournal.com]

That's good to hear.

[flips to a new page.]

If you were dead.
As I have said.
I would play football.
With your head.

[peers over at him with a smirk.]

I'm a regular genius, right?

[lostmycause.livejournal.com]

You're a young Robert Frost. [He nods, totally mocking you.]

Might be kind of hard to play football with my head, though.

[ixero.livejournal.com]

I would try.

[he murmurs wistfully, flipping on to his back.]

[lostmycause.livejournal.com]

Eh, maybe you'll get the chance some other time. [Shifts to sit on the arm of that couch.]

[ixero.livejournal.com]

Whenever you feel like dying again.

[prods at him with his feet.]

You're in my territory.

[lostmycause.livejournal.com]

Your territory? [Grabs at Roxas' feet] Well pardon me for invading. [Staying there, though.]

[ixero.livejournal.com]

Nuh-uh.

[sits up, shoving at him.]

Off, dead guy.

[lostmycause.livejournal.com]

Hey... Fine, fine, I'm off. [moves, standing.] Pushy, are we?

And I'm alive, thank you. Have I offended you somehow?

[ixero.livejournal.com]

Maybe.

[peeks up at him with dull blue eyes matching his equally dull expression.]

No, it's just funny when you listen to me bitching.