Broken Bonds

He had a different voice, too. That was…kind of unexpected. In the so-called ‘True Organization,’ he’d heard every aspect of Xehanort speak, and none of the ones with anything approaching Terra’s face had sounded like this. Not even the Apprentice from out of time, the one whose body Terra now occupied, sounded like this. It threw him off, while also making it clear this really wasn’t Xemnas at all.

“I…suppose.” Isa didn’t know if he’d quite use that word. To be honest, he hadn’t remembered Ventus at all, until Xehanort reminded him of him. Isa had, if anything, been surprised Lea did, but then Lea had always had an unbelievable memory for faces. His scowl turned into a more thoughtful frown.

“…I suppose you’re a Guardian of Light now?”

Terra had definitely screwed something up here.  That, or...maybe Xehanort had.  Which, after a certain point, became the same thing.

He inclined his head, accepting the bitterness.  It was...weird to think about Ven having other friends (especially friends older than Terra was), but Terra didn’t want to do anything that put them off Ven now.  (At least unless it turned out they weren’t good role models, but Terra wasn’t planning on judging that very fast, considering.)

The question, though, hit him someplace vulnerable.  “I...don’t know if the others would agree with that,” he said first, treading lightly.  “But, if they’ll have me, then yes.  It’s the path I should have chosen.”

“But once again, I failed to protect someone. I failed to protect Ven all those years ago Terra. And now I failed to protect Sora. Some Master I am.” She looked away from Terra. “What do I do now Terra?” She sighed as she looked away. 

“Am I really worthy of the title Master if I cannot protect someone who is working towards that title?” 

“Failed?”  Terra’s eyebrows shoot up, because it’s...so...odd to think of Aqua even feeling like she failed.  Granted, it’s not like he’s never seen her that way, but all their lives she was the one who impressed the Master the most.

He shakes his head.  “But you protected Ven from Xehanort, all that time.  He couldn’t even find Ven because of you.  Besides, becoming a Master isn’t about--”

His teeth click together.  Terra, of all people, has no right to talk about that.

Vanitas hate the Graveyard.

There was nothing there – just the scars of the battles waged here, and the makeshift graves of those who hadn’t survived them. Nothing lived here – nothing could live here.

But it was fitting, for someone like Vanitas. A broken world, a scarred world – just as he was broken and scarred. Maybe that was why he found himself back here, despite how the sight of those dead Keyblades made his skin crawl. Or maybe it was simply because he had nowhere else to go.

Whatever the reason, he was here now, back among the canyons and cliffs. His own Unversed were the only moving creatures here, but Vanitas hardly needed them for anything, and so they simply skittered in and out of the rocks, nothing but a flicker in the corner of his eye for the most part.

Part of him yearned to take up his Keyblade as he had done a hundred times before, to strike down the Unversed just to feel the pain of it, so he could at least feel something…

His thoughts were interrupted, however, as another flash of movement caught his eye. The intruder clearly wasn’t attempting to hide…not that would have done him much good if he did try. Vanitas would have known that figure anywhere.

Vanitas laughed as Terra looked around frantically for him. “Wow, what a surprise. Never expected to see your face around here again.” He took a few steps forward, towards Terra. “What’re you here for? Maybe you’ve come to finally finish me off. At least that’d be exciting.” He grinned. “Even if you’re doing a piss-poor job of it so far.”

At the voice, Terra snapped into a battle stance, narrowing his eyes and zeroing in on the stranger’s location.  The sound of it drew an aborted “S--?!” from him, and he stared at the boy who approached, shellshocked.

Was any of this real?  Terra had to question it again.

“...The boy in the mask.”  The words seemed to come from another life.  For an instant, Terra was transported back to a world where the mystery of Ven’s dark half was the only thing he had to worry about.

But the reality at the moment was far more complicated.  Terra gritted his teeth and called the Keyblade, almost more to indicate his willingness to defend himself than suggest he was going to attack.

“And why do you have his face?” he demanded, ignoring the commentary.  It would have lashed against him years ago, goading him straight into a fight, but Terra had more important things to worry about these days.

On the one hand, where Terra had once resented observation, he now felt sort of exposed if he wasn’t being watched.  The patterns he and Xehanort had walked in his mind kept circling even without that constant antagonist, and sometimes part of Terra whispered desperately to him that he was going to go astray again.

Lose himself again.

But even so, sometimes it felt like that would happen even faster under everyone’s kid glove touch and darting eyes.  Terra knew things were irrevocably different; his aged body and silver hair would forever mark that horrific time in his life, even if he were spared the memories and Xehanort’s voice still whispering in his ears.  Just going out at all was a risk.  But it was one he had to take.

Out of respect for the worlds that had been ruined with his hands (if not by his will), Terra didn’t approach anyone out of turn.  He kept to himself, knowing better than to set foot in Radiant Garden in particular.

The Keyblade Graveyard kept calling to him, though.  Maybe something about it was familiar.

It was there that Terra sensed a familiar darkness, drawing him out of a sleepy rumination and twitching to his feet.  Cold fear stole across his (still newly recovered) heart, and he stretched out one hand for a Keyblade he promised himself he wouldn’t try to call.

Send 🍼 to see how my muse would react to being handed a baby

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“Oh...!  Uh.  I don’t know if--Iiiiii...”  She’s so tiny.  And Terra can sense her light, and...also her darkness, which is a strange experience.  Still, the baby lets out a trickling sort of laugh and Terra’s only aware of how easily he could crush that tiny body without meaning to.

Do not drop the child, he reminds himself sternly, and freezes up with an expression that’s really trying to be a smile.  But the balance isn’t as hard as he’s making it out to be, and it doesn’t take him long to start to relax.  “I guess you’re pretty cute,” he tells the baby’s indomitable smile.

She makes a cooing noise, then rears back as if she’ll sneeze--and abruptly pukes all over Terra’s shoulder.

peacock blue: is your muse honest? what sorts of lies do they tell, if not?

[haha...........so.  terra’s dangerously honest.  this isn’t to say he’s completely without a filter, it’s just not very developed.  he expects villainy to be pretty obvious, so he’s prone to lies of omission (see: “oh what yeah totally i’m gonna take this box and go do...something with it, which is probably getting snow white’s heart ofc, brb”) when he’s looking to manipulate someone he’s decided he can manipulate.  he’s just...wrong, usually?  and terra is definitely much more comfortable being straightforward, so he can be goaded into that even by someone he doesn’t want to trust.

this is less true of post-xemnas terra by a stark margin.  that guy is still painfully honest, but has a much more developed bullshit detector, and shies more dramatically from instances where he would have to lie.]

raspberry: what food and/or drink can your muse not get enough of? do they indulge in it often, or is it something reserved for special occasions?