fourteen: (well wishing → I smile just)
[ Xion's always had this thing for dreaming. Although, back home, it was memories... memories and meanings she couldn't understand. Dreams of the ocean and the sound of waves, dreams of a boy in red...

Her dreams are so often memories. After all, what is she but memories? Just a doll, made to live off of the memories of a boy like some kind of parasite. But now she has memories all her own... so many of them. And she dreams about those, too.

They aren't always good dreams. Sometimes they are dark and full of blood.

It's a shame she fell asleep with her journal on the covers -- because when she wakes up, shooting up into a sitting position with a shout, the journal of course falls open and records her cry.

Nothing can be seen -- after all, the room is dark. But the sound of her panting breaths come through -- the only sound, for a moment, until she gathers herself enough to sigh. ]


Come on, Xion, get it together.

[ And she'd been having an easier time getting to sleep, too, after all the help everyone had given her...

Somewhat reflexively, she'll scoop up her journal as she gets out of bed, temporarily cutting off the feed. However, it's only a few moments later that the journal is reopened -- still in darkness, only barely leavened by the moonlight drifting in through the window. However, there is a new sound.

Xion is ... singing.

Bits and pieces, at a slower tempo, of a song that someone once played for her. Of course, there are no words, but her voice is actually ... kind of sweet, and soft, floating and tumbling between the notes. It goes like this for a few quiet moments, with some other soft sounds in the background as she gets some water.

And when she turns around, she will realize the journal did not stay upright where she set it, and fell open. Again. Of course. SIGH. Oh well. She'll move over to the table and sit, lightly tapping on the page that's been recording her. ]


... is anyone even awake at this hour? And I guess... well, if you heard me ... what's your favorite song?

(ooc; actually, pretty tired! gonna hit the hay. tags tomorrow! oh, and I'd imagine this whole thing went down... somewhere around 4 AM. ps her voice, with bonus ironic lyrics.)
fourteen: (sad → and all you say these days)
[ After yesterday's downpour, a nice change from all that heat, today sees a much calmer, steadier rain. It's peaceful, somehow, quiet and fresh in that way the world always is after a storm.

And it is to this gentle rain that Xion will awake, with a quiet gasp picked up by the journal at her side. There's a moment of silence, then, as the girl gets her bearings, finding her surroundings not at all familiar. Waking up in the plains right at the foot of the mountains will do that, to a person who's never been out that far.

Xion takes in all of this in a very dazed sort of way. She's alive. Again. For the second third? time. When by all rights, she really shouldn't be. Not at all. Feeling the rain on her skin, the ground beneath her body as she pushes herself up into a sitting position -- there is something vaguely wrong about all of this. ]


Oh. I'm... back. [ she sounds underwhelmed, and maybe the tiniest bit surprised.

Spotting the journal beside her, she picks it up without opening it and hugs it to her chest, standing and tilting her head back to stare up at those imposing mountains, obscured by mist and low-hanging clouds as they are. She breathes deeply, once or twice-- ]


I'm back. [ with feeling, now. rather on purpose, so that anyone listening to their journals can hear her. ] I'm back...

[ Finally she actually opens the journal, intending to seek out her friends, but looking at it ... makes her pause. For a long moment she just stands there, staring down at the page as the rain soaks the paper. She made them fight her. She hurt them. All of them, and strangers besides. And she remembers it all, with a clarity that makes her wince. It was wrong, horribly wrong. How could she have ever done such a thing, made such a selfish demand of them? Can she even face them now, having forced them into a situation like that?

Choosing instead to say nothing, she holds the journal loosely in her arms and looks towards the forest -- towards home. She's wondering, in all honesty, if she can ever really face them again. Her wings flutter with her anxiety.

Someone find her, or talk some sense into her, and bring her home. ]


(ooc; forward dated to tomorrow in the late morning.)
fourteen: (consider → I'm all over the place on)
private | locked 80% )

Xigbar/Axel/Roxas | locked 50% )

[ Xion is trying very, very hard to get her mind off some very, very depressing things. However, she's not passing herself off very well as okay -- she's pulling a Roxas and sitting on the roof of her community building, knees curled up to her chest as she watches the people pass by below. Her journal is nestled in her lap.

After a moment, she opens it back up and starts to speak again. ]


What's your favorite thing from back home? It could be a place, a person, a food... anything.

(ooc; miiiinor canon mistake herein. will work around it in threads, orz.)

Profile

fourteen: (Default)
[XIV] Xion

May 2014

S M T W T F S
    123
45678 910
11121314151617
18192021222324
25262728293031

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated May. 24th, 2025 08:58 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios