this is an independent roleplaying blog for ion from tales of the abyss, written by jade. rules | muse | memes
heavy work in progress! iβll be mostly iconless. i use the beta-editor.
Monterey Bay Aquarium
d e v o n
occasionally subtle

tannertan36
Xuebing Du
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RMH
AnasAbdin
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

Love Begins
DEAR READER

#extradirty

@theartofmadeline

Origami Around
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
ojovivo

if i look back, i am lost
$LAYYYTER
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@fon-master
this is an independent roleplaying blog for ion from tales of the abyss, written by jade. rules | muse | memes
heavy work in progress! iβll be mostly iconless. i use the beta-editor.

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That was it? Vanitas scoffs a little and turns his head to look at the goods. The smell wafting from the stand was pretty good, and it made Vanitas feel hungry just looking at them. Had he eaten today? He didn't remember... but his body was certainly acting like he hadn't.
Had Ion eaten today? Vanitas side-eyes him for a moment and then sighs.
"Whatever." He reaches under his skirt and adjusts something, then brings out a munny pouch he'd tied to his belt. He tosses it at Ion carelessly. "Go get two of them, then."
Ion's attention is drawn by Vanitas very clearly searching his belt for something, but before he can really process what it is, he's having a bag of munny tossed at him. "Oh--!" By some miracle, Ion manages to move and catch it before it can hit him in the face or fall to the ground, though the catch is sloppy at best - just barely clutching the bag to his chest in both hands.
Bewildered, the young Fon Master doesn't do anything for just a few seconds, but then he answers with a quiet, "Um... Alright," sounding rather unsure about it. Ion does seem to do well when he approaches the stand, though, smiling and making his order without trouble, but then he looks indecisive. Would Vanitas want the same thing as he's getting? What would he even like? Maybe he really shouldn't care, given the circumstances, but... it doesn't come from wanting to make Vanitas happy so much as wanting to avoid any sort of conflict with him, and that includes making small decisions that may directly affect his mood.
Look... it's complicated.
Ion looks back at Vanitas, sheepish, "... Which one did you want? There are a lot of options..."
Now that Vanitas' existence is as aimless as it is, he finds himself giving into curiosity more and more of late. It was something that had never been permitted under Xehanort. Vanitas was too destructive, too unpredictable to be allowed off the leash before Xehanort was ready to enact his little tragedy.
It's impossible to tell what kind of expression Vanitas is making under his helmet, and his body language doesn't give much away, either. He simply watches Ion and slowly uncrosses his arms. Just as Ion guesses, he doesn't believe him, however...
"You have no way of traveling through the world barriers. Running away wouldn't get you anywhere, anyway." He's reminding himself that just as much as he is Ion. There really isn't a point in hanging so close by. If he commanded it, even those disgusting fledglings of his would keep watch over the Fon Master.
He turns his head toward the stand that Ion had been looking at. What was it that had stolen Ion's attention away so? "So, airhead, what are you looking for, then?"
The reminder isn't necessary, Ion knows very well there's no where he can run to, thus the lack of effort on his part to actually get away... but he doesn't say anything about it. As usual, he resigns himself to silence, even when Vanitas calls him a name, and the only thing he does is look to the stand again. On it, they advertise crepes, and - in all honesty - he was wanting to try one.
"I wasn't looking for anything in particular..." Ion starts quietly, knowing it only makes his story of not trying to escape sound weaker, even if it is the truth. "I noticed there are stands here selling baked goods and other sweets, I wanted to see what they were."
@voidedgear "Hey, where do you think you're slithering off to?" An imposing yet familiar figure stands before the Fon Master, arms crossed over his chest.
Abruptly, Ion's heart leaps at the sudden voice, and he halts his feet just as soon as he's addressed. He looks ahead to stare - rather sheepishly - at the boy standing before him. Vanitas. He'd taken Ion from the cathedral in Daath a few days ago, and they've been traveling ever since. If you were to ask Ion why, he wouldn't be able to give you a clear answer, for he too lacks details beyond some vague curiosity. Ion did, after all, treat Vanitas with unexpected patience.
Now, here they are in Disney Town, where Ion has effectively gotten himself into trouble, apparently. Ion lifts both of his hands to idly thumb at his pendant, trying to use this as a means to curb the anxious energy building up in him. It isn't as if he was trying to run away from Vanitas, but Ion's not sure if he'll be believed if he says that.
"I wasn't trying to go without you..." Ion finally answers, voice low and soft, doing his best not to antagonize him, "I was only looking at the stands, I didn't realize you weren't following me."
"No way, he's a complete pain in the ass. He sounds exactly like Father whenever he lectures me. You're lucky you've never been on the receiving end of it."
"Really?" Not that Ion would know the difference, it isn't as if he's ever heard Crimson going deep into lecturing anyone, and he's certainly never been lectured by Asch. "You've been lectured quite often, haven't you? It sounds difficult."

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@fon-master
"Hey, Ion. You think Asch is annoying as hell, right?"
"Ah... Well, I don't find him completely unpleasant..."
"I brought up Mohs because it's an example of how you have no power of your own," Sync replied curtly, though he wasn't sure why he was even bothering to. He wasn't sure how Ion wasn't able to figure this out on his own. "Everything you do is limited by what Mohs lets you do. Any help from youβ"
"βit'd disappear the moment Mohs snapped his fingers." Sync waved his hand, illustrating how fickle he saw Ion's attention. The smile was gone from his face now. Looking at his fellow replica, Sync only frowned more. "If the Fon Master is an obedient dog, then isn't his master the real Fon Master instead?"
"... I have no particular feelings about that." Ion reminds himself all the time that it doesn't matter - it would be pointless to make a fuss out of it. He only needs to do this right for long enough that no one will know the truth. This is temporary... but it doesn't change that it bothers him some days.
Ion folds his hands in his lap, staring at Sync and speaking plainly, "Study is different from practice, Sync. I am not as educated in this work as our original, I could easily make the wrong call." He was afraid, too. Afraid of Mohs, and the consequences of making a mistake that may expose him.
"I'm sorry if this frustrates you," Indifference settles further into Ion's voice as he starts working again. "But I have to be sure of what I'm doing first."
plotting / starter call. if ur a multi please specify a muse.
plotting / starter call. if ur a multi please specify a muse.
plotting / starter call. if ur a multi please specify a muse.

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β°ββ€ STARTER PROMPTS : Assorted Sentence Prompts a set of various original sentence prompts !
β STATEMENTS
β i miss you. β β you canβt leave me here ! β β get in the car.Β β β itβs not about you. β β it isnβt your fault. β β iβve made my decision. β β itβs cold out, take a coat. β β let me know you got there. β β this isnβt the first time, and it wonβt be the last. β β that doesnβt sound like the you i know.Β β β i canβt lose you. β β donβt try to hide things from me. β β i care about you. β β you care. i can see it in your eyes. β β you donβt want this. β β i didnβt realize how late it was. β β slow down, start from the beginning.Β β β here, drink this. β β lie down, youβre going to hurt yourself. β β you need rest. β β i havenβt slept in days. β β iβve been having nightmares. β β i love you. donβt forget that.Β β β i canβt believe you did that. β β yeah, i know. β β i donβt remember. β β let me help you. β β i donβt need your help. β β i want to help you. please, let me help you. β β that storm doesnβt seem to be going anywhere. β β i think weβre stuck here. β β itβs only a matter of time. β β thereβs something about you. i donβt know what it is, but i know itβs there.Β β β say that again. β β iβd do anything to make you happy. β β thereβs that smile ! thereβs that smile i love ! β β no, donβt try to hide your beautiful smile from me.Β β β itβs a beautiful night. β β walk with me. β β you canβt run forever. β β you canβt keep running away like this. β β you look like royalty. β β it doesnβt matter. β β i donβt care anymore. β β please, just leave. i need to be alone. β β donβt try to hide your feelings from me. i know you. β β you look gorgeous. β
β QUESTIONS
β what are you doing ? β β what is that ? β β what happened ? β β what happened to you ? β β what happened to me ? β β are you free tonight ? β β where are you going ? β β will you stay with me ? β β how long has it been ? β β where have you been ? β β who is that ? β β who am i ? β β who are you ? β β iβll come get you, where are you ? β β does this look nice on me ? β β why are you doing this ? β β do you remember ? β β do you remember me ? β β do you remember who you are ? β β what are we doing here ? β β please, stay ? β β how have you been sleeping ? β β did you do this ? β β do i even know you anymore ? β β may i have this dance ? β β how do you like your [ tea / coffee ] ? β β what did you just say ? β β youβre not very good at keeping conversation, are you ? β β am i boring you ? β β how is my impression on you going ? β β did you rehearse this ? β β how long until you believe that you can trust me ? β β can i get you something ? β β what can i do to help ? β
what's your role in the tragic play?
desperate narrator.
this story is a cycle, and you're spinning around it like a hamster in a ball being tormented by a cat. you know how this story ends. after all, you've told it a thousand times. but you try to change it every time. you love the people in this story more than anything. so watching them fall victim to the narrative breaks you in a way you can't begin to describe. but all you can do is tell the storyββ their storyββ with tears in your eyes.
you're prone to anxiety and feelings of helplessness. you have so much love in your heart, and for once you wish it would change something. it didn't. it doesn't. it won't. but you refuse to stop telling the story. and you refuse to stop loving the people in it. in this way, no one is stronger than you. you just wish being strong hurt less.
tagged by: @mathcs <3
@fon-master
Sync was grumbling something completely unintelligible under his breath as he pushed the door to Ion's room open. He was balancing a metal tray in one hand, and he used his foot to kick the door closed behind him.
The tray had a few plates on it. A large bowl with a mixture of cooked pork, potatoes, carrots, onions, and some greens mixed in. A small plate next to it had chicken bites, and another had bits of asparagus resting in some sort of sauce. He'd also included a large glass of water.
"Here," He said gruffly, putting the tray down on Ion's desk.
This is more food than he's used to receiving. That's all Ion can think about as he looks down at the tray Sync places on his desk, taking in the large bowl and the plates beside it.
Do I have the appetite for this..?
It smells good, incredible actually, and smelling it seems to wake up his stomach - he can feel the hunger starting to rise, yet his movements are still uncertain when he pulls the tray closer to himself.
"Um... Is all of this for me?" Ion asks, his eyes flicking up to observe Sync, "I'm unused to meals this size. Is there a reason they've changed it?"
"Good," Sync replies. He keeps his arms crossed over his chest as he watches Ion begin to sort through the various papers on his desk. For all of Ion's annoying attempts to pry into him, he knew how to work like nothing else mattered.
How many of those papers were Ion actually considering, though? How many had a pre-approved response Mohs had given him?
"My troubles?" Sync lets out a single, unkind laugh. "Oh, you're concerned about my troubles? I'm honored, Fon Master."
"But, aren't you so weak that even reading the Score puts your health at risk? What can you do about my troubles when you're nothing but Mohs' dancing puppet?"
βAnd what was Sync supposed to do when someone so pathetic was so much more deserving of life than him?
What could he possibly say to that? It's true there likely isn't anything he can do, and Ion is certain Sync doesn't want to hear that he's only offering a listening ear. It seems even from the very moment they were brought back together, every word he utters to Sync only serves to agitate him further. Were his Guardian not his fellow replica, he thinks he may not care so much about it, but he feels a loneliness he doesn't know how to name yet, and each time Sync pushes him away it grows stronger.
"... Regardless of my situation," Ion begins in a more flat, neutral tone as he lifts his pen, pinching it between the fingers of both hands at each end, "I would think it's something I could at least lend an ear for." He tilts his head slightly and looks at Sync with some curiosity now, though just the same as most of his expressions, this fails to meet his eyes. "But why bring up Mohs? Does this have something to do with him?"
@fon-masterΒ asked: "When you're upset, you do this... disappearing thing. You're doing it right now. Do you want to talk about it?" / @ synkudge for our guardian au <3
Why did he even care? Was Ion operating under the logic that, just because they'd been made from the same data source, it meant that they would be close? Sync said nothing as he merely watched Ion from beneath his mask.
It would be pointless to share his feelings with Ion. Sync wouldn't coddle him, and he sure as hell wouldn't act like they were friends.
This was nothing more than a job Van had decided to use him for.
Finally, he spoke.
"I have nothing to say to you. Just get your work done."
There was a special kind of torture in being forced to watch Ion do the job that Sync had been made for, that Sync would never be good enough for. He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, leaning against the door.
"I'm only here because there's no other use for me. This kind of talk is meaningless."
Ion looks at his desk with mild disappointment -- a feeling not felt for the work itself, but for the constant fight Sync put up against him. He can't help wondering if it will always be like this between them, for all the time he is to fill this space. Oh, of course, he has told himself many times before that getting to know Sync - getting close to him - was pointless in the end, there was no point in feeling anything in particular for each other, but that hardly stopped Ion's heart from sinking in the face of Sync's endless rejection, and the words Sync uses to describe himself.
"Yes, the work will be done." Not once in his short life has he slacked on any of it, you could almost compare him to a machine. Already, he's back to going through it, yet it appears he hasn't fully dedicated his attention to it because he speaks again, softer this time, "I understand this is meaningless, but it seems there's no end to your troubles. I only want to help in some way..."

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"Do you know the way back home? Can you remember it past the dense fog?" // Ominous Dhaos is ominous | @miasmaburnt
A concerning question to be asked. Was he supposed to know? To remember something? Perhaps notice a striking familiarity that would lead, little by little, to home?
In a place like this, it feels impossible to make sense of anything happening around him. Creating cruel amalgamations of memories seems to be all this world is capable of, and to Ion there is no clear path to follow.
"No... I can't make sense of this at all." There's nearly a touch of shame in his small, quiet voice. Ion's fingers curl around his pendant, pushing it hard against his palm to ground himself as his gaze shifts upward to meet the face of his companion, "Do you know? Am I missing something important?"
βI fail to understand how telling Kimlasca that if they do not cease building their weapon, they will feel the fires of consequence burn their city to ash could constitute as a threat. It was merely advice.β || from dhaos again lol
"... Lord Dhaos," A touch of nervousness eases into Ion's voice, "Forgive me, this may be rude of me to say, but I believe it might be the vagueness of your wording that gives this impression."