Who: Roxas (key_destination ) & Gokudera (migi_te_man ) What: Zombie!Dera~ Where: The sub When: After Roxas moves everyone to safety & evacuates the submarine
He's aching, every part of his body thrumming with pain, and as Roxas heals, it seems to do nothing more than stop his bleeding. There's enough of it missing, that the act of kindness seems almost desperate.
Gokudera looks weakly up at the Nobody with eyes more gray than green, but more vivid than his skin. When he pushes himself to sit up, the breaks in his legs and the wounds from the bullets only let out a dull roar, a mere blip in the face of the full-bodied, relentless ache. He can't breathe, wonders how much longer he has, and what the extent of his mobility will be. If there is prey to be had, will he end up dragging himself? Will he be able to use his dynamite. "The dynamite..." He rasps gently and points at the bed. Beneath it, strapped to the legs are sticks of dynamite.
Roxas nods and quickly unstraps the dynamite only to open a dark corridor and throw them into the abyss. His hands shakes slightly as he finds all the dynamite he can get rid of, each one passing his hands as if he's undoing what's left of Gokudera in some way. Because every stick reminds him of the teen whose "end" is coming more quickly than his own.
His stomach seems to twist when he thinks he's going to watch Gokudera turn into something like a Dusk.
"Guh..." He leans forward, feeling dizzy and lifts a hand to point at the small desk at the corner of the room. Sweat rolls down his battle dirtied face as he struggles to take deep breaths and regain his composure. "Under," He knows that Roxas will understand, and as he's searching, he beings to pull dynamite off himself and placing it on the bed in a neat pile.
Before looking under the bed, the Nobody gives a nervous glance at Gokudera and summons another Curaga circle. He begins to strip the rest of the dynamite from underneath the bed, finally popping back up to gather up Gokudera's pile and throw it into the Darkness.
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Gokudera looks weakly up at the Nobody with eyes more gray than green, but more vivid than his skin. When he pushes himself to sit up, the breaks in his legs and the wounds from the bullets only let out a dull roar, a mere blip in the face of the full-bodied, relentless ache. He can't breathe, wonders how much longer he has, and what the extent of his mobility will be. If there is prey to be had, will he end up dragging himself? Will he be able to use his dynamite. "The dynamite..." He rasps gently and points at the bed. Beneath it, strapped to the legs are sticks of dynamite.
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His stomach seems to twist when he thinks he's going to watch Gokudera turn into something like a Dusk.
"Alright. What next?"
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"That's done."
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