no subject

[lightyin]

[Were you planning on using that kitchen at all this morning? If you were, don't mind the guy draped over one half of the table, fast asleep, an abandoned mug of...something nearby. Unless you'd like to wake him up, which is perfectly okay too. He shouldn't be sleeping there anyway.]

no subject

[namedforthesky]

[Today, DR, there is something interesting. Another girl Sora is wandering the halls. However, her clothes are very reminiscent of what you'd find on a seafaring boy in Port Royal, save for the lack of any footwear, and she seems to be having trouble walking. Almost like she hasn't in awhile. And that seems to be what she's focusing on, to keep panic from rising, using the wall to get along while staring at her own feet.

Which means she's not paying attention to where she's going. Which means she misses the sudden turn and the lack of wall to support her. And in an instant, she's down. And from there, she just sits, pouting, arms crossed over her chest.]

...I guess this is what I get for not being able to go on land for a ten years. A whole year swimming really ruins your ability to walk.

[[OOC: Have a mer AU!Sora. Normally, she has a tail, but the DR gave her legs so long as she's not wet.]]

no subject

[illumifated]

[The simulation room is full of the sounds of combat today, but that's not very unusual. In fact, nothing about this scene is really unusual at all. Just another Roxas looking to blow off steam, from the looks of it. The setting is a bit of an odd pick for a Roxas though- the room is currently set up to look like the Keyblade Graveyard, though his simulated opponents are just heartless.]

I sort of feel like a gate crasher

[vacationisalie]

[Is he lost? Definitely. Worried? Not so much.]

[It's early days and he's enjoying the somewhat silent reprieve in the wake of Sora's absence; he can only talk so much, and Sora even more so. Perhaps, with that in mind, he isn't so much as lost as he is subconsciously seeking a moment of peace.]

[Back to basics. To the routine. Through the contrasting variations in the corridors and halls, he knows exactly what he's seeking--]

[Until at last, he's curled up in a long stretch of white, journal in one hand as a pen scrawls across the paper. A good reminder that he's still himself.]


[ooc: AU history is here, in case anyone would like it.]