info
CHARACTER
NAME: Roxas
CANON SOURCE: Kingdom Hearts II
TIMELINE: Post KHII: age 19
*with added notes
CANON ABILITIES: Passive: Increased stats strength, agility, speed, constitution, which can really just be translated to 'tough' and 'fast'. Magic to possibly be relearned, maybe not. He has an elemental affinity to 'light' via Sora, but that doesn't really come up much.
There's also the issue of the keyblade and Roxas's control of the nobodies (his are called Samurai, and the Dusks call him 'my liege'.) The keyblade appears when it's needed to defeat heartless? It's kind if a ridiculous weapon, so I'm secretly hoping it won't be needed. But it can also lock/unlock shit (like hearts.)
PERSONALITY:
Roxas is drawn in two directions at all times. Even when he's feeling fiery and angered there's a curious coldness that makes him uneasy. He's uncomfortable with his own emotions and motivations, always has the niggling feeling it just doesn't matter how he feels. This isn't something he talks about. If there's a goal for him, he can hurt other people without batting an eyelash, yet he has the distinct feeling this might be wrong. He is introspective about this and other things, often found alone in high places just staring off into space, thinking. There are a lot of things he doesn't talk about, he is steadfast in suffering alone.
He's distant from others, finding it difficult to connect with them, their feelings and motivations. He has very little patience for social conventions and unnecessary niceties. When confronted with situations laden with such expectations he can either be politely brusque or violently dismissive, depending on the company. Because of these tendencies, he is the type to keep only a small group of very close friends, tried and true, who have won his trust. He is fiercely loyal of this group and they're the only people he will generally smile for in earnest. If there isn't anyone to stick with him, he survives just fine as a loner, but the cold-heartedness seeps in easily during those times.
Roxas's own principles matter most, making him stubborn and also tenaciously curious. His truth-seeking has destroyed his life more than once. He's a problem solver, and becomes slightly morose over problems that have no solution (and he is the biggest problem of them all.) Roxas is not a proponent of cruelty for amusement, he's not against it when there's a goal behind it (even, occasionally, a petty goal), but the casual variety infuriates him. This is one of the few motivators that will convince him to step into someone else's business. Otherwise, he is private and thinks others should be too. He tends to sneer when informing other people they're being stupid. Cowardice annoys him (his own included, he spends a lot of time annoyed.)
Roxas almost never apologizes (he never regrets his actions, just the way things turn out and he won't apologize for that.) His sense of humor can be a little bit stilted if he's unfamiliar with you, it can take him a minute to realize something is funny. Otherwise his humor is wry. He's used to taking himself seriously and likes to think he's mature for his age. In some ways he is, no doubt he's jaded and capable, but in other ways he's really not. He tends to expect to get what he wants one way or another, is selfish-selfish-selfish, suffers youthful optimism and vigor, vulnerability, moments of naivety, and brashness. That curiosity of his also belies his maturity.
He knows he's a strange bird (the knowledge of it may seem like confidence, but sometimes he self-deprecates.) He can be harsh in fending off what he feels are attempts to cage him.
CANON HISTORY:
Roxas was created from a piece of someone else (not just anyone, Sora, the Keyblade wielder, the chosen hero to defend the Light.) From the beginning Roxas was a fragment with no emotions and no memories. No identity, so when a group of people approached him claiming to be the same as him, Nobody, he accepted them without question. The group's goal was to awaken Kingdom Hearts and reclaim the emotions they'd lost, but the upper ranks were manipulating their subordinates for a slightly different goal.
While still blissfully ignorant to the truth, Roxas managed to forge some fledgling attachments with some of the other members. During this time he showed the distance of his personality, the underlying cruelty born of the heartless, but also a willingness to build his own principles and make his own way as well as a tentative friendliness and vulnerability. However, Roxas severed all ties to the Organization without hesitation when he discovered that he wasn't like the rest of them at all, that he was being used, and that he was the key to Kingdom Hearts. The loyalty he had been coming to appreciate was betrayed and he reacted harshly. He defected in search of the truth and was hunted from all sides: the Organization, his best friend Axel, and the friends of his Somebody, Sora.
He was eventually captured by Sora's friends. They held him captive in a cybernetic city while they worked to reintegrate his memory/essence/heart with Sora, who remained in a coma without Roxas's spark. While inside the city, Roxas lost all memory of the Organization and believed himself to be a normal boy. He once again formed some attachments with the virtual denizens, displaying a somewhat distant but ultimately kindhearted and loyal persona, if slightly vicious. These attachments were once again destroyed by the secret of his identity. During the process of reintegration, Roxas experienced strange dreams of his life as Sora. During this time, Axel broke into the town to try to lure him back, first on behalf of the Organization, and then on behalf of their friendship. Namine, a witch working with Sora's friends, was the only one dedicated to letting Roxas make his own fully informed choice, because she was the only one actually like him, a piece of someone still alive. If Roxas wanted to stay, he could, but without Sora he would never be whole and Sora would never be whole with him.
Eventually, Roxas made the choice to return to Sora so that he could wake up and defend the universe from the Organization's plots. He lived on inside of Sora in silence, challenging him for the right to exist later in the journey. Sora defeats him and takes down the Organization, with Axel's help at one point. Axel sacrifices himself for his best friend (recognizing parts of Roxas inside of Sora), self-immolating to death in order to wipe out a swarm of monsters impeding Sora's path. The game ends with the sentiment that Roxas found peace inside of Sora (Namine did the same inside her Somebody), with some small degree of continued existence inside his host.
PREFERRED PLACEMENT: Osborn, I think the organized crime life reflects his canon choices well. Even after he leaves the Organization, the same distrust and dissatisfaction he feels for the Organization can be mirrored in the familial strife present in his new memories. Osborn's slightly more subtle touch has its perks too for a deceptively innocent looking guy like Roxas. He's a ground-work grunt, delivers things, keeps watch, plays street ear. Appropriate considering he was the lowest ranking in the Organization. It is inevitable, however, that he'll eventually try spreading his own wings, and the job he goes on with Deadpool and Maximus shows he's starting to feel the urge to be independent. Osborn isn't Xemnas though, he's got nothing to hide, if Roxas wants to work, he'll be put to work.
HOW DIFFERENT DO YOU WANT THE MEMORIES TO BE FROM THEIR CANON?
The rebel twin, Roxas never could compete with his brother very well. They looked the same, on the outside, but on the inside they were as different as could be. His brother was talkative, athletic, studious (even if his grades weren't great.) Roxas was recalcitrant, distant, uncaring (school was just too easy.) They were just different. One boy was eager to live up to the expectations of their parents, the other resented the shackles. If asked, he would have told you he didn't want to be the favorite, but he would have been lying because every child wants to be loved. However, his parents were uninterested in complying if he was uninterested in conforming. Roxas was never a very good loser, and there was just no way to win against his brother and still be himself.
It's an age old story. The boy learned to hate the authority that would not praise him, and he grew determined to make his own way in the world. Roxas ran away from home at seventeen, got caught up in the gangs in the big bad city and didn't come back. The bitterness of cut threads hasn't quite left him, has in fact been encouraged, but he's spreading his wings: he thinks he's gonna be all right. He's got his brothers in crime, what more can you ask for? (Other than to one day feel like he's better than his brother-- He doesn't talk about that.) He's just doing the best he can as the black sheep.
SAMPLES
LOG SAMPLE:
She'd been smiling at me again, the girl who worked at the corner store. She reminded me of home, of white picket fences and quiet, sleepy streets. She wore pigtails, dark hair braided up behind each ear, tied off with ribbons. She was the perfect girl next door. I couldn't take it. She shouldn't smile at someone like me, all I gave her were pleases and thank yous and a few pennies in the tip jar, nothing that should really have drawn her notice. If she'd really known me she wouldn't have smiled at me.
The next time I stopped in after helping unload the trucks, she greeted me the same as always, but I didn't say anything. I dropped the change for my lukewarm drink onto the counter, maybe shorted her a little, and left. Her confused silence followed me home to my tiny one room. I felt better about myself. It was less cruel to stop her now than it was to break her heart later.
My landlady, too old, half deaf, crazy and belligerent and set in her ways, glowered at me as I came in. She told me that she wouldn't let me keep any damn-cats, and I reminded her, for the hundredth time, that I was allergic to them. I broached the subject that someone else must be the one with the cat, but she assured me the other tenants were fine upstanding young men (and one young mother, but no one talked about her) and would never do such a thing. Unlike me, young brat that I was. I dully repeated that I was allergic to cats, it wasn't a lie, and headed for the stairs, knowing she wouldn't listen anyway.
Someone peeked out of their doorway at me, the guy with the cat, I didn't acknowledge him. I didn't care what he did in his room, but he tried to come out into the hall and thank me anyway. I slid silently into my own room and shut the door. Took that click of finality, of privacy, and silence. It wasn't much, one room that I could almost touch both sides of if I stretched, but I'd slept in the warehouses when I'd first gotten here. This was better and it was mine. I paid the rent, I bought the sheets on the bed and the radio and the gray curtains. They were ugly curtains, but again, they were mine.
I crawled up onto the thin bed with my drink, prying off the bottle cap, enjoying the warm syrupy treat and clicking on the radio on the flimsy bedside table. The voice inside told me it was nine o'clock, but I knew that before they said it, the room had started to rumble as the train skirted by about a block up. It was why the rent was so cheap. But the room was mine and I was used to it.
I listened for a while, not thinking about the sad girl in the pigtails in any more detail than I was probably not going back to her corner store again. Not thinking about the man with the cat except to swear he'd better keep his cat away from me or I'd--
I fell asleep without knowing it, waking up to the empty hiss of no one on the air in the tiny hours of the morning. My little room was dark and half my soda was on the bedside table still. I curled up on my side and looked at the walls, watched the flutter of my ugly gray curtains. I didn't have that sensation that people talk about, like it was a wonderful day to be alive, like I was at peace and couldn't wait for the city to wake up.
But it was all right.
JOURNAL SAMPLE: [he has round uneven printed handwriting, difficult to tell the case] It's like balancing my hand over a flame and never getting any warmer. Or like I'm wasting away but never hungry. [he scratches that out irritably, heavy strikes] I wonder if making it tangible will-- [he leaves that, doesn't finish the thought]
I drove a truck today. I only stalled it once. Got to have a drink instead of helping unload. I told some people my name.
[scrawled diagonally then crossed out:] IT'S OVERRATED ANYWAY
I wonder if people saying your name will-- [that sentence drifts off] No mail came today. I wish it would rain.
[he leaves the entry for a while, coming back to it later]
There's some sort of meeting tonight. I need to press my shirt. ...Seifer better keep his mouth shut. ✗
Issues:
Name
Family
Brothers
Place in society
Desire to be a part of society
Respect for authority
Distrust of authority
Protecting pride and values
Protecting those he cares about
Hatred of cops - Roxas has his own principles. He really just can't stand the idea of someone else dictating his morals for him. He's just too proud.
How to be a person
The monsters within people
Search for contentment
Pride and accomplishment
Desire to learn, grow, become stronger
NAME: Roxas
CANON SOURCE: Kingdom Hearts II
TIMELINE: Post KHII: age 19
*with added notes
CANON ABILITIES: Passive: Increased stats strength, agility, speed, constitution, which can really just be translated to 'tough' and 'fast'. Magic to possibly be relearned, maybe not. He has an elemental affinity to 'light' via Sora, but that doesn't really come up much.
There's also the issue of the keyblade and Roxas's control of the nobodies (his are called Samurai, and the Dusks call him 'my liege'.) The keyblade appears when it's needed to defeat heartless? It's kind if a ridiculous weapon, so I'm secretly hoping it won't be needed. But it can also lock/unlock shit (like hearts.)
PERSONALITY:
Roxas is drawn in two directions at all times. Even when he's feeling fiery and angered there's a curious coldness that makes him uneasy. He's uncomfortable with his own emotions and motivations, always has the niggling feeling it just doesn't matter how he feels. This isn't something he talks about. If there's a goal for him, he can hurt other people without batting an eyelash, yet he has the distinct feeling this might be wrong. He is introspective about this and other things, often found alone in high places just staring off into space, thinking. There are a lot of things he doesn't talk about, he is steadfast in suffering alone.
He's distant from others, finding it difficult to connect with them, their feelings and motivations. He has very little patience for social conventions and unnecessary niceties. When confronted with situations laden with such expectations he can either be politely brusque or violently dismissive, depending on the company. Because of these tendencies, he is the type to keep only a small group of very close friends, tried and true, who have won his trust. He is fiercely loyal of this group and they're the only people he will generally smile for in earnest. If there isn't anyone to stick with him, he survives just fine as a loner, but the cold-heartedness seeps in easily during those times.
Roxas's own principles matter most, making him stubborn and also tenaciously curious. His truth-seeking has destroyed his life more than once. He's a problem solver, and becomes slightly morose over problems that have no solution (and he is the biggest problem of them all.) Roxas is not a proponent of cruelty for amusement, he's not against it when there's a goal behind it (even, occasionally, a petty goal), but the casual variety infuriates him. This is one of the few motivators that will convince him to step into someone else's business. Otherwise, he is private and thinks others should be too. He tends to sneer when informing other people they're being stupid. Cowardice annoys him (his own included, he spends a lot of time annoyed.)
Roxas almost never apologizes (he never regrets his actions, just the way things turn out and he won't apologize for that.) His sense of humor can be a little bit stilted if he's unfamiliar with you, it can take him a minute to realize something is funny. Otherwise his humor is wry. He's used to taking himself seriously and likes to think he's mature for his age. In some ways he is, no doubt he's jaded and capable, but in other ways he's really not. He tends to expect to get what he wants one way or another, is selfish-selfish-selfish, suffers youthful optimism and vigor, vulnerability, moments of naivety, and brashness. That curiosity of his also belies his maturity.
He knows he's a strange bird (the knowledge of it may seem like confidence, but sometimes he self-deprecates.) He can be harsh in fending off what he feels are attempts to cage him.
CANON HISTORY:
Roxas was created from a piece of someone else (not just anyone, Sora, the Keyblade wielder, the chosen hero to defend the Light.) From the beginning Roxas was a fragment with no emotions and no memories. No identity, so when a group of people approached him claiming to be the same as him, Nobody, he accepted them without question. The group's goal was to awaken Kingdom Hearts and reclaim the emotions they'd lost, but the upper ranks were manipulating their subordinates for a slightly different goal.
While still blissfully ignorant to the truth, Roxas managed to forge some fledgling attachments with some of the other members. During this time he showed the distance of his personality, the underlying cruelty born of the heartless, but also a willingness to build his own principles and make his own way as well as a tentative friendliness and vulnerability. However, Roxas severed all ties to the Organization without hesitation when he discovered that he wasn't like the rest of them at all, that he was being used, and that he was the key to Kingdom Hearts. The loyalty he had been coming to appreciate was betrayed and he reacted harshly. He defected in search of the truth and was hunted from all sides: the Organization, his best friend Axel, and the friends of his Somebody, Sora.
He was eventually captured by Sora's friends. They held him captive in a cybernetic city while they worked to reintegrate his memory/essence/heart with Sora, who remained in a coma without Roxas's spark. While inside the city, Roxas lost all memory of the Organization and believed himself to be a normal boy. He once again formed some attachments with the virtual denizens, displaying a somewhat distant but ultimately kindhearted and loyal persona, if slightly vicious. These attachments were once again destroyed by the secret of his identity. During the process of reintegration, Roxas experienced strange dreams of his life as Sora. During this time, Axel broke into the town to try to lure him back, first on behalf of the Organization, and then on behalf of their friendship. Namine, a witch working with Sora's friends, was the only one dedicated to letting Roxas make his own fully informed choice, because she was the only one actually like him, a piece of someone still alive. If Roxas wanted to stay, he could, but without Sora he would never be whole and Sora would never be whole with him.
Eventually, Roxas made the choice to return to Sora so that he could wake up and defend the universe from the Organization's plots. He lived on inside of Sora in silence, challenging him for the right to exist later in the journey. Sora defeats him and takes down the Organization, with Axel's help at one point. Axel sacrifices himself for his best friend (recognizing parts of Roxas inside of Sora), self-immolating to death in order to wipe out a swarm of monsters impeding Sora's path. The game ends with the sentiment that Roxas found peace inside of Sora (Namine did the same inside her Somebody), with some small degree of continued existence inside his host.
PREFERRED PLACEMENT: Osborn, I think the organized crime life reflects his canon choices well. Even after he leaves the Organization, the same distrust and dissatisfaction he feels for the Organization can be mirrored in the familial strife present in his new memories. Osborn's slightly more subtle touch has its perks too for a deceptively innocent looking guy like Roxas. He's a ground-work grunt, delivers things, keeps watch, plays street ear. Appropriate considering he was the lowest ranking in the Organization. It is inevitable, however, that he'll eventually try spreading his own wings, and the job he goes on with Deadpool and Maximus shows he's starting to feel the urge to be independent. Osborn isn't Xemnas though, he's got nothing to hide, if Roxas wants to work, he'll be put to work.
HOW DIFFERENT DO YOU WANT THE MEMORIES TO BE FROM THEIR CANON?
The rebel twin, Roxas never could compete with his brother very well. They looked the same, on the outside, but on the inside they were as different as could be. His brother was talkative, athletic, studious (even if his grades weren't great.) Roxas was recalcitrant, distant, uncaring (school was just too easy.) They were just different. One boy was eager to live up to the expectations of their parents, the other resented the shackles. If asked, he would have told you he didn't want to be the favorite, but he would have been lying because every child wants to be loved. However, his parents were uninterested in complying if he was uninterested in conforming. Roxas was never a very good loser, and there was just no way to win against his brother and still be himself.
It's an age old story. The boy learned to hate the authority that would not praise him, and he grew determined to make his own way in the world. Roxas ran away from home at seventeen, got caught up in the gangs in the big bad city and didn't come back. The bitterness of cut threads hasn't quite left him, has in fact been encouraged, but he's spreading his wings: he thinks he's gonna be all right. He's got his brothers in crime, what more can you ask for? (Other than to one day feel like he's better than his brother-- He doesn't talk about that.) He's just doing the best he can as the black sheep.
SAMPLES
LOG SAMPLE:
She'd been smiling at me again, the girl who worked at the corner store. She reminded me of home, of white picket fences and quiet, sleepy streets. She wore pigtails, dark hair braided up behind each ear, tied off with ribbons. She was the perfect girl next door. I couldn't take it. She shouldn't smile at someone like me, all I gave her were pleases and thank yous and a few pennies in the tip jar, nothing that should really have drawn her notice. If she'd really known me she wouldn't have smiled at me.
The next time I stopped in after helping unload the trucks, she greeted me the same as always, but I didn't say anything. I dropped the change for my lukewarm drink onto the counter, maybe shorted her a little, and left. Her confused silence followed me home to my tiny one room. I felt better about myself. It was less cruel to stop her now than it was to break her heart later.
My landlady, too old, half deaf, crazy and belligerent and set in her ways, glowered at me as I came in. She told me that she wouldn't let me keep any damn-cats, and I reminded her, for the hundredth time, that I was allergic to them. I broached the subject that someone else must be the one with the cat, but she assured me the other tenants were fine upstanding young men (and one young mother, but no one talked about her) and would never do such a thing. Unlike me, young brat that I was. I dully repeated that I was allergic to cats, it wasn't a lie, and headed for the stairs, knowing she wouldn't listen anyway.
Someone peeked out of their doorway at me, the guy with the cat, I didn't acknowledge him. I didn't care what he did in his room, but he tried to come out into the hall and thank me anyway. I slid silently into my own room and shut the door. Took that click of finality, of privacy, and silence. It wasn't much, one room that I could almost touch both sides of if I stretched, but I'd slept in the warehouses when I'd first gotten here. This was better and it was mine. I paid the rent, I bought the sheets on the bed and the radio and the gray curtains. They were ugly curtains, but again, they were mine.
I crawled up onto the thin bed with my drink, prying off the bottle cap, enjoying the warm syrupy treat and clicking on the radio on the flimsy bedside table. The voice inside told me it was nine o'clock, but I knew that before they said it, the room had started to rumble as the train skirted by about a block up. It was why the rent was so cheap. But the room was mine and I was used to it.
I listened for a while, not thinking about the sad girl in the pigtails in any more detail than I was probably not going back to her corner store again. Not thinking about the man with the cat except to swear he'd better keep his cat away from me or I'd--
I fell asleep without knowing it, waking up to the empty hiss of no one on the air in the tiny hours of the morning. My little room was dark and half my soda was on the bedside table still. I curled up on my side and looked at the walls, watched the flutter of my ugly gray curtains. I didn't have that sensation that people talk about, like it was a wonderful day to be alive, like I was at peace and couldn't wait for the city to wake up.
But it was all right.
JOURNAL SAMPLE: [he has round uneven printed handwriting, difficult to tell the case] It's like balancing my hand over a flame and never getting any warmer. Or like I'm wasting away but never hungry. [he scratches that out irritably, heavy strikes] I wonder if making it tangible will-- [he leaves that, doesn't finish the thought]
I drove a truck today. I only stalled it once. Got to have a drink instead of helping unload. I told some people my name.
[scrawled diagonally then crossed out:] IT'S OVERRATED ANYWAY
I wonder if people saying your name will-- [that sentence drifts off] No mail came today. I wish it would rain.
[he leaves the entry for a while, coming back to it later]
There's some sort of meeting tonight. I need to press my shirt. ...Seifer better keep his mouth shut. ✗
Issues:
Name
Family
Brothers
Place in society
Desire to be a part of society
Respect for authority
Distrust of authority
Protecting pride and values
Protecting those he cares about
Hatred of cops - Roxas has his own principles. He really just can't stand the idea of someone else dictating his morals for him. He's just too proud.
How to be a person
The monsters within people
Search for contentment
Pride and accomplishment
Desire to learn, grow, become stronger