#8bitginger

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             Roxas worried the curly ribbon adorning his gift between the pads of his              index finger and his thumb. Xion had said that chocolates were what              friends were supposed to give each other today -- Valentine's Day,              she'd called it -- but what if Axel didn't like chocolate? What if he just              had a thing for ice cream? Ah, well. Only one way to find out. The boy              rounded the corner of the Clocktower, a box of chocolates in his gloved              hands (which was not shaped like a heart, for he thought that would've              made his gesture more cruel than kind) and a hesitant smile on his lips.

             Here goes nothing.

replied to your post

“8-bit-ginger replied to your post: //Trickster Riku, anyone?//Actually...”

//nno nO IT'S GREAT OKAY keep on drawing it is so fun and tbh make it even MORE years bc practice always makes u better and better :^DDD

8-bit-ginger How were they even able to convince Axel to wear this ridiculous outfit? Well, that was an easy question—he was fucking drunk, and he wasn’t ‘convinced’ but rather, forced into it—or was he dared? Either way, he would’ve actually, y’know, gave a shit if he was in the right of mind, but the fact that he was at a stranger’s door thinking it was a friend’s clearly showed he wasn’t.

     The dress had a little bow in the middle of the top, of course along with little ribbons and frills, and the accessories? Thigh highs and even a feather duster—the latter of which he didn’t seem to have at the moment because it probably dropped god-knows-where along the way.

     Swaying a bit to-and-fro as he clutched the short(er than usual since he was so damn tall) skirt of the maid dress, Axel rang the bell. As it was answered, he didn’t even take into account that the man before him was somebody he didn’t even know. 

     ”So s’like, ‘m in this fuckin’ costume..’n….I dunno where my actual clothes are, y’know?? Dude where the fuck didja put ‘em? I mean, not that m’legs don’ looksexy as fuck ‘n these,” cue an animated gesture towards his legs, “but really, this skirt’s like, ridin’ up on me or some shit—hey, can I, like, crash ‘n your couch…?” And with that, Axel already began to attempt to push past the man.

The man let out a groan as soon as he heard the door ring. Roxas wasn't expecting anyone to show up on his off day - maybe it was a salesman, or one of those preachers, or some brats trying to pull a prank - unsolicited visitors were the worst. The blond sat up from his bed and threw on some pants, he needed to be at least somewhat decent for whoever's outside. Of all people Roxas expected to see at the door, a drunken redhead decked out in a sexy maid costume was not one of those things.  "WOAH, WOAH, WOAH! EXCUSE YOU, SIR-MA'AM!" he shouted. Roxas grabbed Axel by the arm and blocked his path, there was no way in hell he was going to let some loon go into his apartment and do god knows what to his property. "I didn't ask for any sort of housekeeping - especially not this kind!" the man made a gesture, violently waggling a pointed finger at Axel's legs. "Don't you dare try to go in my house, creep!" 

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             Faster. The soles of his black boots hit the ground with loud              cracks as he sprinted hard, dodging between buildings and              turning sharply down alleyways.

             He always knew he'd encounter at least one of his enemies at              some point, but he hadn't been prepared for the sudden weight of              a hand on his shoulder. And he most certainly hadn't been              prepared to glance behind him and see a figure wearing the same              coat as he.

             Roxas hadn't bothered to stick around -- after going in for a slash              across the hooded figure's face, he'd taken off, his arms and legs              pumping as hard as they could. He could've taken a corridor,              sure, but there would've been nowhere for him to hide if his              pursuer managed to follow, and he didn't want to fight anyone if              he didn't have to. Though he was more than willing to cut              someone down if need be, that didn't necessarily mean he liked              the thought of it.

             Though he had incredible endurance when it came to running -- at              least that was one thing he could thank the Organization for -- he              found himself gasping for air, his lungs burning with the need for              more oxygen. But he couldn't stop now; whoever was chasing              him was no farther away than they had been two minutes ago.              The boy made a small, strangled noise in frustration before              pushing himself harder, teeth bared as breaths hissed between              them.  

             There were, however, only so many roads that connected to              others in Twilight Town. It wasn't before long he turned down a              street and found himself trapped on three sides, with the only way              out being the one that brought him in. He debated attempting to              scale the walls with his keyblades (since the brick walls that              surrounded him offered no nooks or crannies to hold on to), but              quickly decided against it. He'd be an easy target, what with such              a slow and exhausting ascent. Plus, his pursuer could easily strike              him with a spell, since his back would be turned to them. All he              could do now was turn back and pray that the other person hadn't              caught up --

             A bit of black flashed in his peripheral, signaling that the time for              flight had passed. Shit. 

             He didn't think. He just whirled around, keyblades in hand, and              charged, a battle cry tearing from his throat. Because it could not              end here.

             Not before he followed through on his promise.