[open]

[equinoctials]

WHO: Riku and various people he meets.
WHEN: Arrival, settling in (February)
WHAT: Riku's arrival, his efforts to get the lay of the land (and get accustomed to actual sunshine again, wow).
WHERE: Gazin
WARNINGS: depending on the thread there might be mention of depression or grief.



Arrival

They were sitting around the table when it happened. Riku had a mug of hot coffee in the cradle of his hands when he looked into it, watching their combined lantern light reflected on the surface of that dark liquid. His hair was still damp and the scent of what he'd washed with fought back against the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Something felt different, in the moment when he drew in a breath, preparing to speak. Something electric in the air.

"If I could ask for one thing, I'd wish..."

I could regain something precious that I lost, he thinks.

"That we could leave."

Someone else at the table said something. Already it had sounded distant, warbling like a voice heard from underwater. He thought it was an observation about the paw having moved. He'd forgotten all about that thing; a peculiar monkey's paw he got from the riddle-dispensing machine, that macabre example of taxidermy had occupied a shelf in the kitchen for months, sitting right next to two other keepsakes he had leaned against each other. A wood carving of a key, a plush charm in the shape of a star. Knickknacks, like it was a home.

Quickly, Riku had looked up in alarm, his hands knocking over his mug as he reached out blindly for the others, like his heart somehow knew something his mind didn't. The room where he'd been sitting receded far away, a dim scene on the end of a long, black tunnel he was falling through. It receded until it was but a speck in the distance, a solitary star that winked out of sight. He raised his head and saw it.

Stained glass that bathed his face in soft blue and violet...

When he came back into himself, it was with a hard landing, thudding into the ground on his back. Everything was a bright, diffuse white, like shining a flashlight through cotton cloth and he instantly threw his hands up to shield his eyes.

He's ended up on a patch of land between two roads which diverge from the nearby city of Gazin. It's just an overcast midday. Still, over half a year in total darkness has made his eyes unaccustomed to this much light, so for a few long moments, all Riku can do is lie there with his hands over his watering, stinging eyes, catching his breath. Trying to make sense of what just happened. Even without seeing, Riku can tell he's somewhere else. It isn't the first time he's suddenly found himself on another world... he just typically has more control over the circumstances leading to it.

Around Town

A new world. A new set of challenges.

Information could be just as useful as tools or weapons, armor. Food, water, and shelter are immediate needs that Riku sought to satisfy by whatever means. His clothes make him stand out too much, so the black bomber jacket was stuffed away and a worn (and reeking) cloak was stolen off a peg near a carelessly open door. He took whatever work he could to earn enough to buy food and something to drink, whether it was mucking stables or hauling goods. Strong, able-bodied, and not too proud for ugly, dirty labor, he prefers to have something to occupy his hands rather than let his thoughts run wild.

Being here changes so much. Far from home, far from the world he'd been taken to when he was lost to the Darkness, far from everything and many of the people he ever knew...

He's still deciding on the way forward. In the meantime, he does what he can to survive day by day. When he isn't working or seeking out more work or resources, it's possible to encounter him in the marketplace or in a tavern, trying to engage others in conversation to learn more about current events.

The city isn't the type he's seen on some worlds where the action continues on well after the sun sets. That means if he's to get an understanding of where he's ended up, Riku can't wait around for it to get dark. Until his eyes re-adjust to sunshine, he shields them by tying a strip of cloth around like a blindfold. It's threadbare enough to still see a gauzy image while dimming the light, though it likely draws stares and perhaps incorrect assumptions about his ability to see.

Nevertheless, the presence of a blindfold doesn't seem to stop him from navigating around objects and people as if he could see just fine. It is, however, quite the conversation starter.

Comments

arrival.

[replicates]

[ it's just an overcast midday, like the kind they'd have during the rainy season on the islands, heavy clouds heralding harsh rains that'd soak through their canoes if they didn't pull them in early enough. this isn't the islands, nor is it the dry heat of the desert in the keyblade graveyard — there's soft earth beneath his boots, a breeze lifts the ends of his hair as he finally takes one step and then a second, a third.

he didn't have any regrets as he wrung the life out of his own replica, watching the yellow fade from its eyes until there was nothing left but an empty husk. he didn't take the vessel because he didn't need it, not when he had fulfilled his purpose; he'd meant it when he told him good luck, when he said there was someone who needed it more. but as he'd faded once again, there was a part of him that wished he could be free — free from the endless cycle of pain and sacrifice, free from the fate that came with being fabricated from nothing but some data and a lifetime of memories that weren't his. how long must he prove that he is real? how long will it take for it to be enough? for him to be enough? how many more times can he offer his body in exchange, when it wasn't his own to begin with?

his steps slow when he sees a figure lying on the ground in front of him, and something in his heart seizes up briefly, a recognition before he's even aware of it. his pace starts up again, hurried steps that turn into a run until he's crouched next to riku, blocking the weak sunlight with his body as he looks down at him. ]

Didn't expect to see you again, [ he says lightly, something wry threaded through it as he recalls the last time he'd run into riku again. there's tears on riku's face, his chest heaves as if he'd been fighting, but he can't see any sort of injury on him. he shouldn't be here, he should be back at the graveyard helping the others. ] Do you want some help?

around town

[dualikey]

It both is and isn't what he's used to. Sora has spent lots of time traveling to new worlds, places that have different scenery and people and customs- he's had a lot of practice being thrown into the middle of a story and figuring it out as he goes along. But this is the first time he's had to do that all on his own, and it's the first time he hasn't been able to leave. There's no familiar gummiship parked nearby that he can retreat to. There are no friendly voices to buoy him along and no enemies giving him a direction to run towards.

All of this started because he'd wanted to find Kairi- and he'd been so sure he could do it too. Sora had reached out and thought with all of his heart that he wanted to be somewhere else. That wherever he was trying to go would reach back for him.

That place wasn't supposed to be a long winding road flanked by endless forest. It wasn't supposed to have a wooden sign that read Gazin.

The days pass and Sora buys things to eat with the munny that's still in his pocket, grateful that even though it earns him a few strange looks, it gets him some bread and a few pieces of fruit in exchange. But he can't just live like that forever. Sora might not have a real plan yet, but he knows he can't make one if he ends up hungry and cold- something that'll definitely happen once his pockets are empty. Man, it's like all those after school talks all over again. One day you have to get a job Sora, and start making your way in the world.

Fishing feels not just like a natural choice, it's almost the only choice. There's a river that runs along Gazin's side and his hauls will be best if he goes out either early or late. And while Sora definitely isn't happy about that he knows he's low on a lot of his other options. He rolls his pants up around his knees and works barefoot so that his shoes are still dry once he pushes them back on- he carries his catch in a net over one shoulder and makes the long walk in before the sun is up, stopping at the tavern and the market stalls to sell it off and then- when it's finally over and his arms are empty, his stomach full, Sora finds a patch of shade in one of Gazin's alcoves and sinks back against a wall with a big, exaggerated sigh. He's pretty sure he can get away with a little nap.