#worldstraveled

worldstraveled liked for a starter.

If there was one thing that could never get old, it was seeing new worlds and finding thing special about them, good or bad. And the one he was at now, was no different, the question was, as usual, is, where is he?...And PLEASE, let it NOT be another blasted sand world. He is TIRED of finding SAND...SOMEHOW...ending UP...in his blasted boots.

◈ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴄᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ ᴍᴏᴅᴇ — KH prompts ▮ @worldstraveled

“Wouldn’t that depend on what kind of ‘other world’ I end up in though? Because if it’s one where I suddenly have a million gil to my name, then you can bet I wouldn’t be working for ShinRa anymore.” 

That’s if they’d even let him leave. It’d probably take all of that million gil just to pay the company into leaving him alone, considering he was SOLDIER.

“What about you though? What would you do? I mean, aren’t you already some kind of world traveler anyway?”

♡ ――― This world is the first step in his journey--this place of lost things and souls cast away from home...

Traverse Town.

There was so much apprehension as he docked the gummi ship, so many nerves igniting into jittery excitement and worry...

He cut his ties with Sora, left Destiny Islands and its promise of safety and friends. Roxas knows now that the road he is taking is a lonely one--a journey that is reckless, stupid, perhaps something born purely in his head, created from all the tangled memories he has--he could be dashing out into the stars for no reason at all. 

He walks slowly into the First District, his eyes catching the homey, cozy details: the iron-wrought lamps guttering out their cheery glow, the brown cobbles laid neatly over the ground, the shops tucked in their corners, inviting and sparkling. Roxas weaves his way over to an empty café, candles on the tables leaping to life at his approach.

He places a gloved hand on the back of a wooden chair. He remembers this place, in a way. Roxas knows every alley of this snaking town, knows every crevice, every detail...

Thanks to the memories he stole from Sora.

He releases the chair, turns back around to face the district as a whole...

Then, he starts making his way to the item shop, intending to gather supplies and information before moving on to the other districts... before he becomes lost in this mad chase for light.

                                                                 -  -  -

Roxas is bleeding all over.

There’s scratches on his face, deep tears through his cloak and flesh, every time he parries away a smoking claw a spatter of blood flings off him at the motion--

Roxas is starting to get dizzy, he stumbles--

A Neoshadow crashes into him, the very last that stands from the sudden mob that bombarded Roxas earlier. It fights with more desperation than the others, making Roxas fly backwards and land hard on his back, his breath whisked out from his lungs, Oblivion clattering away from his hand at the harsh, sudden fall.

Still the Neoshadow grapples with Roxas, straddling over him, attempting to tear out his eyes with its sharp talons, smacking at him and trying so hard to get to his new, fleeting heart that is thrumming wildly in his chest. Roxas wrestles with the monster for a while, sweating profusely and gasping, his lungs and heart on fire--

With his last ounce of strength, Roxas suddenly places his hands upon the Heartless and summons forth scorching Light from his fingertips, which begins to melt the creature cruelly, until it oozes into a steaming pool of darkness over him, gurgling and crying at the hideous, sparkling element that sears its flesh too easily...

Roxas screams as the Light streams forth, bathes the Heartless completely, until the monster bursts apart, splattering darkness onto the cobbles and nearby hotel. 

In the aftermath, there’s only silence.

Roxas breathes heavily, raggedly as he lays there in the middle of the Second District. He was attacked the second he opened the great, wooden doors of the district, as if the Neoshadows had been waiting on the other side for him all this time. Their attack felt personal, pointed.

And now, Roxas might die here, unless someone wanders from their home to see him there--but unfortunately it is late and dangerous here, few would dare come out at such an hour, knowing well the night invited the darkness. Roxas turns his head with effort, spies a Potion that clattered and rolled away from him in the sudden battle. His bag, which contained all his supplies, had been flung aside when it became apparent Roxas had to suddenly fight for his life.

With an aching groan, Roxas begins to drag himself across the ground, attempting to reach the glittering green bottle a few feet away...

                   ❛   bad bitch energy. fixed it for you free’a charge..     ❜ 

      HELLO SKYLAR !! tormenting muses is my pastime ! i’ve yet to find a way to do so for donald, unfortunately.