Naminé was pacing. And thinking. And trying not to worry. And her mind was swirling with thoughts of monsters and classes she was coming to loathe and angels and abductions and where was Valentine? If he had disappeared on her, she was going to hurt him and he had better realize that while there were crazy angels on the loose he was going to have a ( Read more... )

Naminé was ... pacing. She couldn't seem to get class out of her head. How could you lightly discuss something like that? Destroying someone's mind and pretending it was a service to them ( Read more... )

Naminé was sitting and flipping through her sketchbook, musing a little on just about everything. Michelangelo, her would-be hero, and the lovely things he said. Her new job, which she started in the morning. Her trip to DC with Charlie, which had been lovely. A glittery cabin. Alphonse, who had given her a book and also some unusual ideas. Roxas, ( Read more... )