[ficbit][Kingdom Hearts] Landlocked
Nov. 9th, 2010 02:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
moonsheenA ridiculous short, speculative KH thing I wrote a few weeks ago. Post-Birth By Sleep. References to KH2 Final Mix+ (basically, if you know anything about the Lingering Sentiment Boss....) Stuff like this exists to tide me over in the years it'll take before KH3 is announced...
The armor sank to its knees without a sound. The end of its keyblade slid back into the stone.
So it is... it whispered in that weird way that wasn’t so much a voice as it was a toneless creak from deep beneath the earth. The armor bent its helm low and then, before Riku could even answer, broke into pieces. Riku could see nothing between the fractured plates, and he didn’t have much time to look, because that plate reassembled over his arms, legs, chest, head.
He stood up. It wasn’t heavy at all. It was warm, almost uncomfortably so, vibrating with something that felt like it had once been anger, a very long time ago.
Xehanort, it whispered in his chest. He felt the usual pain in his side when he heard the name, in the spot where Xemnas had cracked him over a year ago. It felt like knuckles grinding into his lower back. Xehanort.
“Xehanort?” in spite of himself, Riku laughed. It was weird to hear his own voice out loud. “Come on. That guy’s old news. Who are you?”
The heat faded from the strange dull metal, almost like surprise.
“Who were you?”
He heard nothing but an empty hum, for a minute or two. He was just turning to survey the crevasse when the thrum returned, quieter, as though dredged up from the bottom of a deep pool: That which lingers.
“Did you have a name?”
Yes
“Do you remember?”
No.
“Great,” Riku lifted his arms, inspecting the gauntlets that covered his hands. He flexed them, experimentally. “Another amnesiac.”
The armor sank to its knees without a sound. The end of its keyblade slid back into the stone.
So it is... it whispered in that weird way that wasn’t so much a voice as it was a toneless creak from deep beneath the earth. The armor bent its helm low and then, before Riku could even answer, broke into pieces. Riku could see nothing between the fractured plates, and he didn’t have much time to look, because that plate reassembled over his arms, legs, chest, head.
He stood up. It wasn’t heavy at all. It was warm, almost uncomfortably so, vibrating with something that felt like it had once been anger, a very long time ago.
Xehanort, it whispered in his chest. He felt the usual pain in his side when he heard the name, in the spot where Xemnas had cracked him over a year ago. It felt like knuckles grinding into his lower back. Xehanort.
“Xehanort?” in spite of himself, Riku laughed. It was weird to hear his own voice out loud. “Come on. That guy’s old news. Who are you?”
The heat faded from the strange dull metal, almost like surprise.
“Who were you?”
He heard nothing but an empty hum, for a minute or two. He was just turning to survey the crevasse when the thrum returned, quieter, as though dredged up from the bottom of a deep pool: That which lingers.
“Did you have a name?”
Yes
“Do you remember?”
No.
“Great,” Riku lifted his arms, inspecting the gauntlets that covered his hands. He flexed them, experimentally. “Another amnesiac.”