out, damned spot

[bloodiedsky.livejournal.com]

[Judging by the height, a Roxas is leaning against the wall. His face is hidden by the shadow of his white cloak, though it's not the same worn and weathered one he arrived here in. He's observing people: seeing their joys, their fears, their stupid petty conflicts...is strangely calming. As much as it is for someone who watches a river, the water going by without touching him. And he needs the calm. Desperately.

But it doesn't set him completely at ease. For an assassin to completely drop his guard borders on signing his own death warrant.]