Love is in the air in Cerealia -- or, well, it is in ViViD anyway. And nobody cares about your lives outside of ViViD, so that's all that matters. It's an artificial love construct, but for you sad, lonely, little people, it's probably good enough, right? CERES is on a mission to find you your other half, your soulmate, your one and only, and this is how they've decided to do it -- through technology and abuse of your private information! Welcome to your new love life, courtesy of ViViD.
For your convenience, CERES has automatically generated dating profiles to help match up the new arrivals swiftly and speed up the "get to know each other" process. Nothing like some not-entirely-agreed-to speed dating to break the ice and improve new relations! You're going to be here for awhile, so you may as well get to know each other.
For the older residents, well... you may very well find your soulmate here! You don't want to miss out on that. That would just be an unfixable tragedy. So here, use the handy-dandy profiles and find your new honey. After all, the information on these profiles is 100% accurate, certified and verified by Mosley himself.
Why would you ever doubt that?
 I've never actually been on a date before. Not that there haven't been offers but I'm just too busy a guy! I think to myself, "Mosley, me, guy who's talking to himself, why won't you go on a date with that nice lady who just asked you out?" And I reply, "Oh, you gorgeous bastard, I'm satisfied with my life as it is already! I don't need love." After all, what is love? Baby, don't hurt me. Don't hurt me. No more.
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PHASE I [ 6 00 ] Gooooood morning, new ViViD compatriots and gamers! You’re not going to get a lot of time to adjust and recover from your sudden retrieval from destroyed and sad code, really, because as soon as you arrive, fresh and new to Cerealia, you’ll be faced with a profile.
Oh, look, it’s your face! And… a quote attributed to you? And your favorite object? Hopefully those details are correct, because there’s no going back now.
You’ve become an otome love interest.
For those who aren’t brand new to ViViD, you’ll be presented the exact same profiles -- but you’ll have to pick one. You know how this works, pick the love interest you want to romance and sweep them off their feet. Better pick the right route too because, haha! You wouldn't want to end up naked and alone in a basement again! That would be crazy. Just pick some rando hottie instead, it's no big.
Or, well, that’s what they say. But then you’re dumped into a ballroom, dressed up to the nines in finery, and surrounded by other milling NPCs. You're given a moment to process the whole situation before a genteel-looking older man who seems to be running this party steps up to the microphone. Gently, he clears his throat, and welcomes everyone to the party ("Haven't been to a party this fine since I had all my teeth!"), and then he gestures to a pile of weapons in the middle of the room and finishes cheerfully, “Anyway, whoever survives can leave this room -- enjoy!”
It looks like the NPCs aren’t messing around; they’re immediately diving for the weapons, so you might want to get a move on.
Welcome to the Cerealia Dating Hunger Games.
PHASE II [ 1000 ] When you burst out of the ball room, possibly covered in the blood of your enemies (your poor dress/suit!), you’ll find yourself in what looks to be a sprawling jungle. In reality, it’s a circular arena, and if you travel far enough, you can reach the walls, though they’re electrified with no way out. If you try to get past them, you’re going to fry yourself before you accomplish anything else! Where's the fun in that?
The bigger problem is this: there are some unfortunate monsters on the prowl (don't they... look a little familiar?) in the jungle, and they are ready and willing to eat up anyone who crosses their paths. They’re drawn to the scent of blood -- and, even more so, the scent of people in love. So hey, if you're in love right now, it might be a good time to run. Otherwise, you're the top target and about to be hunted. Have fun out there, lovebirds!
Meanwhile, the NPCs (or even your fellow player characters?!) are out for blood themselves, so nowhere is truly safe.
Was that... was that a scream for help, or someone coming to get you?
PHASE III [ 1145 ] At some point, you’re going to need supplies. It starts to feel like you’ve been in here for days without any food or water (but that’s weird, wasn’t this ViViD session supposed to be just a few hours -- ) and you’re starting to feel the effects.
So, time to get in touch with your inner man vs wild. There are animals to hunt (deer, rabbit, etc.) and if you can fashion a spear or use a weapon you scooped up in the chaos, you can kill them for food. Alternatively, you can just try stealing some supplies from your fellow players. That's probably a saner option.
Which leaves you sneaking up onto their camp, full of sneakiness, and more sneakiness, and a little bit of stealth, you reach out and...
Suddenly, there are lights on you! Cameras! Cheering, adoring crowds! There's a narrator narrating every step you're taking (loudly) and there are fans hanging on your every move --
Oh, did that wake up the other player and/or bring monsters roaring down upon you? Whoops. The perils of spectator sports like the Cerealia Hunger Games, really.
PHASE IV [ 1400 ] You did it. Someone came at you, and you killed them. Their blood is on your hands, but it’s fine -- it’s just a program in a game.
Right?
Except when you look again, it’s someone you know. The corpse of a person who’s very important to you in so many ways is lying there on the ground, blood still warm but clearly dead. They’re solid to the touch. They’re there, and they look just like that person you care about so very much. Your heart hurts.
And you’re the one who killed them.
Then, without warning, it starts to rain because ViViD is nothing if not good at sensing the mood.
PENALTY [ why o'clock ] So.
You died.
This isn't really that surprising, considering it's the Cerealia Dating Hunger Games. People die a lot in games like these. It's the price of love.
Don't worry, though! It's just ViViD, so it's not like you really died. You'll get reconstructed, good as new, and they'll toss you right back onto the battlefield. Except, well... it seems like something's a little different.
For one thing, you've got claws instead of hands.
You can't seem to speak, either; all you can manage is garbled growls and sharp noises.
And, worst of all... you're really, very intensely hungry, and you can smell blood (or people in love, that's an even better scent).
So yeah, you're one of the monsters now. Don't worry, it only happens the first time you die in this game; if someone valiantly slays you again, you'll come back good as new, a normal person in the Games. What a weird glitch. There's no way that's on purpose or anything, right? No way!
[ Remember to apply proper warnings on threads with sensitive or inappropriate material and do let a mod know if your thread careens off into maiming or canoodling so we can lock the log. ] |
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no subject
[If she weren't alarmed already, she would be now, for she is thoroughly unused to people coming in contact with her involuntarily, and her instinct is to expect something more unpleasant to follow. Hand automatically reaching to cover the point of contact as though that might make it hurt less or perhaps negate any future hurting, her eyes stay scrunched tightly closed in anticipation - but they fly open the second she hears the voice of her not-so-assailant.]
[Gaping, on her, is a somewhat muted affair, but that doesn't stop it from being what it is, and her expression is one of open shock as she stares, surprised into absolute stillness with her body yet half turned away from him. That look shifts through several iterations in quick succession; confusion, gladness, distress, concern-- but her voice sticks on disbelief when she says abruptly,]
Roxas--?
[Good first impressions, indeed.]
no subject
she's an unfamiliar face (mostly), with a voice that he knows he's never heard before. and yet—there she is, saying his name in a way that seems to naturally roll off her tongue. he's... not a stranger to her.
it wouldn't be the first time it's happened; he's already met someone else he was apparently once friends with that he has no memory of. and he knows that with how xion came and went, others knew her despite her own lack of memory about it. it prevents roxas from being hyper defensive, at the very least. rather that bristle like an off-put cat, he merely takes a step back and ask a question that he already sort of knows the answer to.]
You... know me?
no subject
[She doesn't know quite why, at first. Maybe it's the way that he looks at her, what she doesn't see in that look - or maybe it's the situation setting in, the dangerousness of it pricking her from a place much further in the back of her mind than she would have anticipated, now that they've run into each other and finding a familiar face has taken precedence.]
[It hasn't quite caught up to her - that feeling - when she says, hardly even thinking about it, body turning and straightening so that she can face him properly,]
Of course I do.
[As though there were no room for doubt, as though it should be obvious to them both. It doesn't waver, that first reaction.]
[Then things begin to click into place. Not so long ago, from her perspective, they stood side by side in The World That Never Was, and knew each other even though she'd been uncertain that they would. It had been such a relief, that moment - one more thing she wouldn't have to worry about anymore.]
[Now, though, she finds that worry returning, and in force. Did she celebrate too soon? The creeping chill on the back of her neck tells her she did, and her expression grows slowly but surely more uncertain, eyes searching him as though she might thereby ascertain what she needs without having to ask. She makes an attempt at a smile that is weighed down heavily, so much so that it's hardly there at all and waning quickly by the time she adds,]
Don't you know me?
no subject
"of course i do," she says, as if it's really natural that they should know one another. but to roxas, she's a stranger. he can't recall ever seeing her or hearing her voice, let alone there being a name to go along with it.
how do they know each other? when did they meet, and in what world? it couldn't be that she was a member of the organization, but he's sure he never met her on other missions. could it be like that other time—a world he never remembered going to, and memories he couldn't recall? roxas really isn't sure.
he does, though, narrow his eyes to look at her more closely, as if looking at naminé continuously will somehow trigger some memory that lurks well beneath the surface. they don't, of course, and the feeling in the put of his stomach is a sinking one. his expression shifts; it's equal parts disappointment and frustration as he shakes his head.]
I... don't remember you. [he pauses, letting out a sigh.] Sorry.
[he's apologetic, because... she seems nice. even just from what he can see right now, just from looking at her—he gets the feeling they're supposed to be friends, or at least friendly. he's been wrong about this kind of thing before, especially with how wary his experiences have made him, but there's something about her that feels inherently familiar, but not in a way that he dislikes.
so he feels a bit bad about the whole thing, and yet at the same time, so unsure of how he should deal it.
and naturally, a little angry that his memories have been tampered with somehow—it's not exactly a realization anyone ever wants to come to.]
no subject
[His face crumples. At his words, she goes still.]
[Perhaps it was wrong of her to ask when she could already see the answer coming a mile away. But how could she not? How could she not hope that after everything, at what looked to be the end, when it all seemed to have finally gone right, things would go right for them, too? How could she not hope that he would remember her, when he was the one with whom she was created, when he was the one most like her, when she'd been so happy to have the chance to meet him even once, when she'd been so glad that in the end they knew each other, would know each other?]
[It feels more than a little like divine retribution.]
[And it's quiet, the way she sort of-- wilts slowly inward. All the air seems to seep out of her without any audible exhale, something so unspeakably sad in the slight lowering of her eyelids, no matter how valiantly she tries not to let her expression give away that it feels like someone's punched her straight in the chest.]
Oh.
[A hollow sort of sound, one that leaves her lips parted while she wavers, as if unsure what to say.]
[But she deserves this, doesn't she? She stole someone else's place, once; took from them their due in the memory of another who mattered to them. She's stolen from Roxas, too, not in quite the same way but in similar others that might have been worse. It twists uncomfortably in her heart, clenches her throat - she deserves this, she cannot deny that she does.]
[(And some part of her whispers in the back of her mind that of course he would forget. How could he not, when she is so forgettable?)]
I see.
[She swallows, eyes on the ground and lids low over them. Then, lifting her head, she smiles. It's a painful looking thing, strained from the beginning, but it's soft, somehow, just like her voice is when she admits, almost breathy,]
That's alright. I suppose I should have--
[-- Expected it. Faltering, she shakes her head.]
It wasn't fair of me to ask. You... don't need to apologize to me.
[Not ever.]
no subject
that doesn't seem right to him at all.
there are a lot of things he doesn't understand—especially when it comes to that of people, emotions, feelings, and anything that isn't encoded in him from his training with the organization. he spends a lot of time trying to piecemeal together the things he isn't supposed to understand as a nobody. since coming to cerealia, he's learned about things that would be so simple to others; things like hugs and when to cry, or even how many types of love supposedly exist. but for all of things he's in the dark about, roxas isn't (and can't be) totally oblivious to someone else's pain.
and his words, honest and apologetic as they may have been... they were hurting her. this strange girl that knows him, that he's supposed to know her somehow too. so how can he not need to apologize for that?
in some way, he knows it's not his fault directly; there's someone else pulling the strings. but still, he feels bad about it. she's upset, and in some tangential way, he's the cause of it. but it doesn't really mean roxas is sure what to say or do, either. he wants to get mad, but he can't get mad unless he knows who he needs to be mad about.
how did she knows him? were they friends? what world did they meet on? the questions keep ringing in his mind as his hands clench into fists; he's frustrated at the situation, and also at himself. he doesn't know where to start, or what will make this better.
he doesn't even know her name, but asking doesn't come to mind because there are so many other things to focus on. it's almost overwhelming in a sense, enough that he can feel the twinge of a headache forming. roxas will fight it for now, but only because he needs to press on and start somewhere.]
Were... we friends? [he has to ask before anything else. it's likely another apology will come her way later, but when he can barely make heads or tails of things, he has to go one step at a time. figuring out why she's so sad about it... that's a start, isn't it?]
no subject
[No, this won't do at all. She's been unkind again, as she was before, in Twilight Town. Should have considered how he would look at things, how it would impact him; internally, she berates herself for not having learned so obvious a lesson. Urging her smile more firmly onto her lips, she gathers herself and pushes that self deeper into the back of her mind. The best she can do for him now, she thinks, is not to add any more to the discomfort.]
[Yet such a question he asks of her. There's some part of her that imagines what the others of the Organization would have whispered to her, would have told her to do - she could say yes, and take once more something that isn't hers. Certainly, it's a fond wish of hers that they might one day have such a relationship as that, but she is not the girl she was a year ago and the suggestions Marluxia or Larxene would have made hold no sway over her. She never wanted to do this the easy way; she wanted - wants - to do this the right way.]
Not exactly.
[There's a quietness in her voice, and it's still too heavy for her taste, somewhere in the carefully maintained gentleness. So much explanation lingers unsaid; it would complicate everything, would make it harder for him to work through this, and by now she's learned to avoid that. Some things are better left unsaid. One step at a time, not all at once.]
It was never that simple. But I... would have liked to be.
no subject
it's a question that rings in his mind as soon as she said it; he would have thought they were based on the way she speaks to him. it wasn't simple, but she wanted to be. maybe that should have been enough, and maybe in some way that's already in enough in roxas' mind to want to pursue a friendship in the future.
friends—they're important and invaluable to him. he had nobody when he arrived in cerealia, having abandoned the organization and with xion gone. but then, he made friends. he met terra, he met people like mary, hiro, ruby and lee. they've all helped him in a lot of ways, to overcome some of his latent anger and find things to enjoy beyond what few things he did have prior to cerealia. and the truth is, he'd like to have more of them if he can get better at taking the steps to get there.
every day is something of an uphill battle for roxas. he wasn't given the guidance or the skillset for proper socialization, so he has to learn what so many things mean as he goes. now... now is one of those times, and where he knows he needs to use what he's already learned to figure everything out right now.
but the truth is that he can't just cast her words aside and just say he wants to be friends. there's still too many missing pieces to this puzzle that he wants to be clued in on first.]
Can you tell me why? Why it wasn't that simple, I mean...
no subject
[That happens to be one of the reasons this is so bittersweet. For her, being known, being remembered, having friends - these were all dear but largely unobtainable dreams, before. And yet he'd remembered her, against all the odds, only for that to be ripped away again a moment ago as though it had never been at all. It was one thing for what she wanted to be totally beyond her reach, but it's another to have the tiniest taste and then lose it all over again. Yet, despite herself, she truly is happy to see him. She's happy that he's alright, after what she's been told, even if that may only be for a given value of 'alright'.]
[So it's difficult, looking at him now and finding herself completely unfamiliar to him. More difficult, maybe, to know what to say in the face of that, because no matter how much time she's spent in the memories of others, no matter how many friendships she's seen form through someone else's eyes, she feels painfully at a loss as to how to go about it, herself.]
[There is one thing that's clear to her, however, and it's this: she can't tell him everything she wants to.]
[It would be too much, she thinks. And the more she considers it, the more she becomes conscious of the fact that she doesn't know how much he knows. If he's forgotten her, has he forgotten anything else? (Is it narcissistic to think it might not only be her?) If some of his other memories are missing, she's thoroughly hesitant - prudence demanding it - to give him too much information at once. That's why when he asks, she pauses, silently debating with herself on how to frame things. As she does, she does so with her lips slightly parted and her eyes intent on him, watching as if she might thereby glean some clue as to how informed he may or may not be.]
[Presently, she decides on,]
You and I... have a lot in common.
[A test, to see how much he knows about himself. Will he guess correctly what it is? She leaves those words where they lay and continues.]
I wanted to meet you for a long time. But the way things were, that couldn't happen - not until recently. When it did, I was-- [This time when she hesitates, it's with the barest hint of an almost nostalgic smile before her slightly breathy,] ... so glad. Only, we didn't get the chance to speak for long. It... just wasn't the right time, I think.
no subject
he's quiet throughout the time she speaks, listening to ever word like he may never hear it again or have any other sort od clarity.
she wanted to meet him, and they didn't speak for long. so they weren't friends, but they weren't enemies or opponents, either? of course, there is something else she says that sticks with him.
and roxas isn't really sure which way it sticks—good or bad. so he'll focus on that part for now, because it's the one thing he can grasp on to and try to make sense out of.]
A lot in common... [he repeats that part back; there aren't many people who have a lot in common with him. sora, supposedly. xion. the organization. his head can't to the side a bit, looking at naminé curiously, but there's still a bit of a leery edge to it.]
Are you a Nobody? [that's the missing link, as far as he knows. usually anyone with things in common with him is a nobody. or a keyblade wielder, but nothing about the way she carries herself gives him the impression that she's off using a keyblade to ward off heartless. maybe he's wrong, and he wouldn't be all that surprised if he was, but if this girl knows who he is that well... she's gotta know that he's not a normal human, right?
he's never met any nobodies that weren't part of the organization though, which is why he has to wonder if that's even possible. weren't all them working under xemnas?]
no subject
[It was hard, then, to see him suffer so, to see his (false) life destroyed by the truth, as his real one was. She still wishes to provide it to him, that honesty and clarity and understanding, but... having seen what it did before, she can't help being wary of taking things too quickly. She has learned from him, and what she has learned is to tread lightly, to be gentle, not to give him too much information at once. She'd meant it when she said that they'd talk about everything, yes, but when she spoke those words, she'd expected the circumstances to be very different from the ones they happen to be in now.]
[So she still means to keep that promise - in time.]
[But for now, she has to do what she thinks is best for him, even knowing that it might make him unhappy with her later. The consequences of being straightforward, she fears, outweigh the consequences of holding back. His well-being is better preserved, surely, through some discretion. That doesn't make it any easier to see his leeriness, because she knows it is deserved. Bearing it, though, is the least she can do, and she does so with a benign expression, placid and not unkind.]
[And she waits for him to draw his own conclusions, nodding in silent confirmation of the words that he echoes. The question that he comes up with is, to her, an answer; it's proof of the state of his mind, of his memories, that he even knows to ask. The very corners of her mouth tip up very slightly, almost relieved, and there's another irony - in almost any other situation, such words would surely make her frown.]
Yes, [she says, voice soft,] I am. [It seems safe to add,] Like you. [that there might be no doubt about what she knows of that particular subject.]
[She's brimming with other things she wants to say, wants to explain - but she holds back now, too, lips pressing slightly together to prevent the words from escaping, and outwardly makes little sign of her inward concerns. (Perhaps it's best, she reasons, to let him ask the questions.)]
no subject
his tendency to be temperamental and come to rash conclusions when he's angry often clouds that ability, but he's not too bad when he's mostly clear-headed. he's a little grateful to himself for somehow managing to keep his calm through this when he can feel the pit of anxiety that builds in his stomach and throughout his whole body. hearing about another nobody—one he's never met (according to his memory) puts him on edge, and for more than one reason. of course, that's also he next course of action in trying to clear the air here and figure out just what's going on, as well.
his brows knit, and he looks her over; it's hard to gauge if she has anything to do with the organization like this. she's not wearing a coat, but... the game ViViD is hosting right now isn't really accommodating for that much, either.]
So then... what's your name? [that's the first question he has to ask. even if he's never seen her, maybe he's heard of her?
but there's a second question that's more important, and the thing he's more wary about given how much trouble he's technically in with the organization. but one thing a time, right?]
no subject
[But that temper is a force to be reckoned with, and as Naminé herself is not given to lose hers, it falls to her to try to keep things as calm as possible. She performs this duty unflinchingly, body language the picture of poise, hands neatly folded together. There's nothing even remotely threatening about her save, perhaps, for the lack of readability. As placid as she is, she gives very little away, especially in comparison to her initial reactions to him. She has... withdrawn, to an extent, because she must. It wouldn't do to look at him with as much sadness or as much tentative hope as she happens to feel.]
[It helps, though, to have another question to answer. This duty, too, she takes to without hesitation, lifting a hand to splay her fingers against her chest just the way she did the first time she introduced herself to him, offering him a gentle, cordial smile. (It's surprisingly genuine, all things considered.)]
My name is Naminé.
[Yet things are both simpler and more complicated than they were the last time, and suddenly she finds herself faltering, hand slowing as it lowers to return to its twin. It isn't the discomfort of how nostalgic it is to do the same thing once more; not exactly, anyway. It's that the more she remembers the last time, the more she remembers the mistakes she made. She wants him to have the chance to speak first, yes, and to ask what he wants to, but she also knows him (and herself) well enough to anticipate one of the things that's probably putting him most on edge. She knows what she would fear, if she encountered another Nobody whose name she did not know, and that's what makes her part her lips as if to speak - but again she stops herself, this time with more effort and the slightest shake of her head, meant for her own scolding.]
[Her evenness is thereafter and for the most part pulled back into place, but with a subtle difference in the tilt of her head, the set of her face. There's something knowing, something very quietly beseeching in her eyes, something that looks like a, 'You can ask me what you really want to, Roxas.']
no subject
[he repeats it back, and it's clear that it's a wholly unfamilar name to him. there's another quiet pause, almost as if roxas is trying to search his own memory for any instance of having heard that name.
of course, he comes up short. nobody in the organization had ever spoken to him with any sort of detail about what happened in castle oblivion. things happened, xion came from there, a bunch of the organization members were destroyed... but that's all he ever found out. so it's not as if he could know she was there, or what her association with him in any sort of tangential way could be. he sighs to himself quietly, arms folding over his chest. why do things like this have to keep happening to him? it's a thought that passes through his mind, edging on frustration. he feels so out of the loop all the time; there are so many things he doesn't know despite the fact that everyone seems to know so much about him.
he thought leaving the organization would change that, but even here in cerealia, where he's not trapped under their thumb, it continues to happen.]
And... The Organization? [it's the other question he needs to ask. he's not really sure he wants to directly say "are you part of the organization," because somehow, it doesn't seem quite right. but he's leery of things, and he needs to know what her ties may be to them. if she is working for xemnas, or saïx, or anyone else—that's important. she's a nobody, and nobodies don't go unaccounted for; roxas knows that much.
he's not sure. he's really not sure what to think at this point, so even the questions he wants to ask are approached with a bit of apprehension. unlike what may have come from naminé's memories, he doesn't have the added frustration of being chased down by the organization, or the implanted memories from DiZ to further change his perceptions or feelings. so he approaches it cautiously, unsure of what to expect.]
no subject
[Somehow, she wasn't expecting that. She should have been, for she knows his nature and she knows that he is too... good, she would say, not to try to remember someone. But she is too used to being forgotten, too used to feeling certain that she is not of any consequence to anyone, to anticipate the same treatment that she would expect him to give someone else. It feels odd - bittersweet.]
[But no matter the case, she regrets having caused him to have to try. If she'd known a few minutes ago what she knows now, she would have - should have - responded differently, she thinks. Would it have been right for her to engage him at all, knowing he wouldn't remember her and that it would trouble him so? Would she still have done it? She isn't sure, and if she were to think consciously of it, it would give her one more reason on top of many others to feel conflicted about her own morality.]
[There are more pressing concerns. He's asked the question without really asking the question, and she can fill in the blanks without batting an eyelash.]
[Less easy is deciding exactly how to go about explaining the answer to him. She must answer, that much is certain, because she will not leave him in limbo any longer than she has to; he has nothing to fear from her, and she wants him to know that. (She wants to know that, wants to believe that. She would never willingly hurt him, would never really willingly hurt anyone, but circumstances have been circumstances before, and--)]
I used to serve them, once.
[Her voice is somber, measured, eyes politely - guiltily? - on the floor by his feet. This particular aspect of the situation is one she didn't have the chance (or the bravery) to confess to him the last time they were introduced. Apprehensive though she is given her lack of information on the state of his memories, that's one thing she won't keep from him; she can only hope that his memory has not degraded so far that he's forgotten his less than amicable departure from that particular group. It's a weight off her chest, being able to tell him even that small portion of the truth, but it also makes that same part of her chest twist anxiously, for fear of his reaction. That's why her next words are,]
I no longer do.
[And she has grown to be the sort of girl who doesn't like to cast off blame, doesn't like to make excuses, but she doesn't dare hold her tongue on the subject in this particular context. He needs to know what her intentions are, that she has no loyalty to the Organization or any inclination to give him trouble on their behalf.]
It wasn't because I wanted to. At the time, I... didn't-- [-- think that she had any choice. That isn't quite it, though, is it? She was young. She was lonely. She was afraid. She hardly had the capacity to know better, hadn't had anyone to help her or protect or guide her, probably would have disappeared if she hadn't cooperated. None of those things, however, excuse it in her mind, and thus she does not claim them as her reasons. Her brows draw together, frown darkening her carefully maintained calm. There's something tight in the set of her mouth, eyes sad. To her, the reality of it is,] I thought things would be easier for me if I helped them.
But I... couldn't. [There's an unnerving sense of unbalance that she experiences as she tries to explain this, something that she wasn't prepared for even having foreseen the subject coming up. It's all the worse attempting to describe it to Roxas, of all people - but he probably deserves to hear it more than most anyone else.] They wanted me to hurt someone who-- [Her fingers curl, regret a moment too late for admitting to it, but the thought fights its way out all the same.] -- who didn't deserve it. ... Someone who was important to me. And I couldn't do that.
[Not anymore.]
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when she admits that she no longer does, he eases, though still feeling wary. and as she presses forward and explains her circumstances (albeit in a vague way), he eases further. his expression morphs to something more sympathetic—or perhaps it's really empathetic, given how well he can understand that feelings.
things were easier helping the organization. easy, because he just had to do what they said. it wasn't until what they said conflicted with everything he wanted and the state of his friends that he realized it wasn't worth it. so for naminé to say that her reason includes the fact they wanted her to hurt someone important to her.
...he gets that. he gets that all too well.]
Yeah, that sounds like the Organization all right. They don't care about anything but getting what they want, even if it hurts others. [does roxas sound a little bitter about that? because he is. at least it's pretty clear that his disdain isn't for her, but for the organization itself, and the nobodies in it who remain.
it does beg a few other questions, but roxas needs to get past this first before he asks. his problems with them run so deep that hearing such a direct situation similar to his own draws out a lot of feelings he's pushed down over the last few months out of necessity. he's still angry about everything that transpired, but being in cerealia has done well at keeping his mind off it. until now, at least.]
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[Or at least that he had the capacity to do so; his willingness was the only thing in question, and she wouldn't have blamed him in the slightest if he'd held more closely to the tension she could see clearly as he listened. And she wasn't angling for it, exactly, but in retrospect, she realizes how much what she said sounds like something he could have said, in his own similar experience. A part of her feels guilty, regretting her phrasing, wondering if she ought to have expressed more of her own failings--]
[But another part is intensely relieved. There's a tight knot that formed in the vicinity of her chest the moment she realized he had no idea who she was, and it's only - finally - as his expression becomes sympathetic that that knot begins to loosen. She's grateful, so grateful that he was willing to listen, and even though it's not in quite the same situation as she'd intended, he was able to understand.]
[She's always wanted someone to understand her.]
[Her head tucks slightly as she swallows her bittersweet gladness. There's no time to dwell on it now.] I.... [There's a soft sort of hesitation in her voice. She knows they aren't unwarranted, those words, despite there being at least some inclination lingering in the back of her mind to try to gentle that sentiment, that bitterness. It isn't that he's wrong, because his anger is wholly justified, but rather that she hates for him to carry around that resentment. Better that he approach it with a clear head - but now's not the time to fight that battle. There's a sadness in her voice, all the same, with her,] I can't say that you're wrong. They've done... many things that were very selfish.
[Her lips press together. She could have said the same thing about herself. Shaking her head, eyes downcast, she moves on.]
That's-- why we didn't meet sooner. After what happened with the Organization, I had to stay in hiding. I knew that if they caught me, it-- [would effect Sora, too, and everyone that depended on him, not to mention probably being the death of her - or worse, a return to hurting people.] -- it wouldn't be good.
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[he mutters the words, bluntly and bitterly. that was always their solution to these things, wasn't it? if a nobody betrayed them or expended their usefulness, they lost any remaining free will they had.
xemnas kept everyone under his thumb that way. sure, saïx may have been a lot more heavy-handed about it, but it was all to meet the same ends. those in castle oblivion, xion—even roxas himself hadn't been free of threats like that. he knows it, too. it's meant that living in cerealia has been arduous at times—not knowing if or when someone would suddenly pop out of a corridor to drag him back to headquarters and try to end his life. they weren't above it.
so even without knowing what happened with naminé, he understands that much. there's no getting around the fact that her reason for being in hiding was because whatever did happen... they were after her. it does leave him to wonder who was tasked with finding her, and just what happened. they were missions that never met his ears, and axel never mentioned anything of the sort either...
(though he's not even sure why he'd expect axel of all people to tell him things. that's a can of worms for another day.)
of course, he doesn't know the greater implications of what her destruction would mean, and he'd really be none too pleased at this juncture if he was to learn he was supposed to return to sora; he and riku clashed enough over things of that nature.]
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[She doesn't mutter. The word is clear as a bell - but it's soft, resigned, factual. There is no bitterness in it, only the weight of what she knows to be the uncomfortably heavy truth; no anger, but the faintest hint of something like sadness.]
['Or worse,' she wants to add. She doesn't. (That isn't a train of thought that she wishes to follow, especially not in his presence. They would undoubtedly have made her hurt him, too. Tried to, at least, and she, no matter how much she has grown, yet possesses a deep-seated fear that she would give in, were she truly to be tested. She can't allow herself to take that kind of risk.)]
That's why... I didn't have the chance to introduce myself to you for a long time, even though I wanted to. It wouldn't have been safe for either of us.
[And there are a thousand things she wants to tell him, almost as many that she wants to apologize for - but the most pressing, the one thing that she can't hold back, stems from his behavior, from his lingering anger; when she says,]
... But I'm... sorry. [It's in a peculiar sort of tone, made so by the nine-hundred-ninety-nine other reasons she has to say those words. When she clarifies which cause it is this time, it evens out.] For not finding some way to help you.
[Not until the end, that is.]
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she's sorry, and roxas isn't really sure how to react to that. they've only just met, and he doesn't even know how she has a connection to him beyond also being a nobody. she wanted to help him somehow, but roxas doesn't even know how or why she would.
so how is he supposed to just accept an apology like that?
he can't, really. he can't understand how to do that when he's so in the dark about things. so roxas just shakes his head and says—well, just that.]
Don't... you don't have to be sorry. [he just can't let it be like that.] I don't even know... what you'd be sorry for.
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... Of course you don't. [It's not an accusation; it's an agreement, utterly devoid of bitterness, soft and sympathetic and apologetic despite her choice to refrain from using the 's' word again.] It was... my mistake. I should have known better.
[It feels oddly like a lie, not divulging everything and beseeching his forgiveness immediately, but it would only make a mess. Peculiarly, she finds herself almost wishing for an interruption, that she might keep from sticking her foot in her mouth all over again. Silent for a moment, she regards him from across the space between them and wonders how everything got so... complicated. There's no table there now, no DiZ, no Riku, no Organization, and yet--]
Some day-- [She pauses, wavering briefly, and then, with the gentlest of smiles and something almost like determination,] -- it'll all make sense.
[It's a promise, and it's one she makes only in the privacy of her mind. Even if he hates her, in the end - even if it makes him never speak to her again, she'll explain it all, when the time comes. She owes him that much.]
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[it's not really a very reassuring "okay," though. how could it be, when the fact that she's not telling him everything is clearly right there on the table in front of him?
it makes roxas uncomfortable, even if naminé means well by it. and maybe there's some innate feeling of knowing she doesn't mean harm by him for it—which is more than can be said for most of the lies that he's been fed over the last year or so. but it doesn't make him happy with the situation. all the same, he can't really find it in him to be as angry as he would be. the anger is still there beneath the surface, pent-up and ready to burst at the right provocation... which isn't this.
maybe he's too confused or overwhelmed by it, or maybe the fact that the organization has it out for her too stops him from lashing out. but he's still tense, and still completely unsure of what he's supposed to do or say next.
it's awkward. it's uncomfortable.]
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[What she is afraid of, however, is making this any worse, and for an interminably long few seconds, it appears they are at an impasse, because he is visibly uncomfortable and so, though more subtly, is she. It was so much easier when she had a proper goal in mind and time to prepare herself mentally. Being thrown into things like this is not something she's used to, and it will almost certainly take her some time before she's able to move as quickly on her feet as she'd like.]
[Almost mercifully, a distant noise echoes faintly down the hallway, and she remembers suddenly where they are. That is to say, it is not a good place to be having this conversation. Giving a start, she turns, glancing back the way she came. No one is in sight yet, but--]
[Looking back at him, she falters only briefly; now she's found her goal, and that always has made it so much easier to find the words, too.]
We should... probably go.
[Both of them - whether that's together or not.]
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it doesn't make naminé any less correct, though. sticking around like this isn't a particularly good idea, even if roxas is sure that he can handle it. and still, as awkward as things may be, and as much has he has a lot of questions and things he'll need to sort through on his own time...]
Do you need help getting out? [he remains unconcerned about himself, but he can't ignore the fact that she may need a hand. things are strange and he's not sure how to feel about her yet, but despite all that, they're not on opposite sides. even if they may be one day, while they're in cerealia, everyone generally works towards the same goal. so that means helping out a new arrival when things are dicey.
like now, for instance. he won't push if she thinks it would be better to handle alone, or if she desperately wants to escape this awkward situation (he sure does), but he'll ask anyway.]
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[So perhaps she can be forgiven for that little spike of nervousness as her mind shifts back into the present moment outside of their conversation, expression setting into a frown.]
[She'd never have expected to feel it, but she could definitely use some time to regroup after that talk, herself. That doesn't mean, however, that she's going to take it, for there are more pressing matters than her own personal comfort, and if he's willing to accept her presence long enough to help make sure neither of them end up getting an unpleasant introduction to the business end of someone's sword, then she's not about to refuse. It feels backwards to be asking him for help - or accepting it from him, rather - but she'll just have to add it to her debt.]
[Grimly, she nods.] Yes, please. If it... wouldn't be too much trouble.
[Because the fact of the matter is, even were it to considerably lower her chances of making it out, she won't force the issue, either.]
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