When; Today, early evening (before 8 PM, lulz schedule)
Rating; PG-ish?!
Characters; Roxas [
obliviomancy], Axel [
spellthingsout]
Summary; After
this thread. Roxas wants to know the truth. Axel finally gives in. Maybe.
Log;
(
Story Time with Axel - ain't so bad, really! )
Axel was relatively positive that sitting so close to a constantly cranky, somewhat unpredictable Roxas couldn't have been safe. Especially when he felt his mouth twist into the start of a sneer upon hearing such simple words. Go ahead where? Couldn't care less -strange, he would have laughed at that- about anything except that. Control suddenly spontaneous, he looked away, leaning back on both hands as in the guise of thinking.
What did he want him to tell him anyway? Oh, sure, he'd been around for the crumbling of the Organization , had probably stuck his hand a little too deep in the proverbial cookie jar with that one. But he had his own agenda to keep, things to do; even if this pathetically constructed City gave him less to work with. Somewhere along the way, involving Roxas but not including him had become second nature. Weird.
"Can't guess where you want me to start at." Castle Oblivion, Twilight Town. It was all blurring together into a lump of pointless memory. Or, perhaps, he was stalling. "Gonna give me a hint?"
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Not that it really mattered to Roxas.
The most important question was, of course, how he could have disappeared. What could have transpired to bring him from Memory’s Skyscraper - and that was where he’d intended to go when he’d left, he was sure of it now - back to Sora? … But he couldn’t expect Axel to know that. Unless something’d happened.
Fixing a cool, even gaze on Axel, he asked the first question: “Why were you traveling with Sora?”
Of all the gaps in his knowledge, that made the least sense. Why would Axel care about what happened to some kid with a Keyblade if he’d left the Organization? Maybe they’d met in Castle Oblivion - though that still left too much accounted for. The why and the how and - everything else, for that matter.
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Guess it was better than some of the other things he could have asked, considering. Not that confessing to half of what he'd actually done after Roxas had left wouldn't have been amusing; watching his face twist into whatever resembled emotion was always entertaining - in more ways than one. Yet, that would leave far too much for him to consider, and really, he just didn't have the patience to put up with that. Axel stiffened a little, shifting positions to lean forward, arms resting on the either knee so he could stare at the floor instead.
"Wasn't exactly how you make it sound." Couldn't be, anyway. It had only been a convenient outcome, Sora and he being in the same places at almost the same time. Maybe-- "Ask the little hero about it. He'll tell you whatever ya want."
Again with the assuming, but if Sora was - in anyway - like Roxas, at least the natural honesty would slip somewhere amidst all the faces and slow on the uptakes. With a tilt of his head, green eyes leveled on him.
"Ain't like it was fun running around after him." If he'd died-- There was a shrug, and nothing else to it.
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The City was only a temporary haven; a few people here and there had managed to stay for years, but everyone went back in the end. And, whether he could carry the knowledge back into his own story or not, he needed to know - in case things could be changed.
But was that it? Coincidence? Well, Sora had said something about fighting a bunch of Dusks and Axel dropping in from nowhere to blow himself up but, somehow, Roxas hadn’t managed to take it very seriously. Axel could be stupid and infuriating, but he wasn’t suicidal. If he’d wanted death, he could have faded back into a Dusk at any time. Anyway, as for Sora--
Roxas curbed the thought. He didn’t want to think about it.
“You’re here right now,” he pointed out instead, meeting Axel’s gaze without hesitation. “And I’m asking you. So tell me. Why were you with him?”
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Cases of mistaken identities and altered personalities just weren't enough; he had to deal with this, too. Huh.
Axel knew he could comprise a million more excuses that would, possibly, appease the blond long enough to stop their game of ask, ask, threaten with Keyblades, ask, but it just wasn't his style to let it slide so easily. Yet, how hard was THAT story to understand? He'd been there with Sora, with mass Heartless and in the process of deciding to give them the biggest BANG of their lives before haphazardly showing up in the City. Body stopping, he ran a gloved hand through the mess that was his hair.
"You weren't coming back." It was a jagged mumble, as if the thought itself had torn itself free from his mouth without consent. "Figured that was as good a place as any to be."
...Right?
Nah. He was the honest to whatever bad guy, even if that had been the reason for consorting with the other runt on more than one occasion. Roxas could think what he wanted; Axel didn't - couldn't, really- care. And he crossed his arms, settling back with a foot pressed against the surface of the wall behind him.
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Well. That made sense - sort of. As much sense as Axel could ever make, anyway. He supposed he should be grateful that he could understand it at all.
His shoulders slackened and eased. In an unspoken echo, Roxas angled his head back against the wall and thought. When he’d first arrived, Axel had said that he wasn’t dead (yet) - which meant that he couldn’t be allowed to leave the City anymore. But that was separate. It had nothing to do with the questions that remained to him, so Roxas filed it for later. He hadn’t found out everything yet anyway.
“When’d you meet him?” he asked at last. “Castle Oblivion?” Just the name brought a fresh onslaught of holes in the story he knew, things that had yet to be understood. His grip on the book tightened a little, gloves creaking. They’d never told him anything about what was happening there. The omission seemed strange now - especially in light of the fact that Sora had been there and yet couldn’t remember any of it.
But Roxas did remember certain things - like the name Zexion had given him before he’d left.
Coolly, Roxas posed the next: “Do you know who Namine is?”
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