Incomplete
Who: Roxas, Larxene, and dead!Axel
When: Day of Wesker Battoru
Where: the hotel
Rating: pfft. PG-13/R
Warnings: Language, I'm sure.
Summary: A dead Axel is amazingly difficult to manuever up a staircase. Really.
Larxene had said it might take days or only hours for Axel to wake back up. Logically, there was no reason to keep looking at the clock when it seemed to tick seconds by like epochs.
Roxas did anyway. He had nothing better to do except stare at Axel or put more holes in the wall. And he was running out of wall.
The dirt on the corpse he'd mostly scrubbed off, annoyed past bearing at the tiny black smudge marring Axel's cheek, but of course hadn't bothered to do anything about his own state of unkempt. He sat on one of the chairs with knees drawn up and a scowl etched in stone, unmoving. His Keys were agitated. Oblivion recognized the presence of death and quivered in the back of his mind, so faint as to be a brush of mothwings, but asking all the same to hunt.
Oathkeeper just chimed softly, mournful, marking the passage of time.
Roxas waited. Larxene would either show up or she wouldn't, and it didn't matter to him anyway. He wasn't going anywhere.
He'd promised.
When: Day of Wesker Battoru
Where: the hotel
Rating: pfft. PG-13/R
Warnings: Language, I'm sure.
Summary: A dead Axel is amazingly difficult to manuever up a staircase. Really.
Larxene had said it might take days or only hours for Axel to wake back up. Logically, there was no reason to keep looking at the clock when it seemed to tick seconds by like epochs.
Roxas did anyway. He had nothing better to do except stare at Axel or put more holes in the wall. And he was running out of wall.
The dirt on the corpse he'd mostly scrubbed off, annoyed past bearing at the tiny black smudge marring Axel's cheek, but of course hadn't bothered to do anything about his own state of unkempt. He sat on one of the chairs with knees drawn up and a scowl etched in stone, unmoving. His Keys were agitated. Oblivion recognized the presence of death and quivered in the back of his mind, so faint as to be a brush of mothwings, but asking all the same to hunt.
Oathkeeper just chimed softly, mournful, marking the passage of time.
Roxas waited. Larxene would either show up or she wouldn't, and it didn't matter to him anyway. He wasn't going anywhere.
He'd promised.