♞ riku (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
limitstorm) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2014-01-01 02:51 am
limitstorm) wrote in exsiliumlogs2014-01-01 02:51 am
i am extraordinary, if you'd ever get to know me.
Date & Time: January 1st, afternoon.
Location: Winter-Exsilium; some emptier fields away from civilization.
Characters: Riku; open.
Summary: Riku has always been shown and been told that his powers are nothing but destructive. He's never taken the time to think to think that maybe it's not true--not until now. Maybe things can be different from now on.
Warnings: N/A. Long post ahead, but tl;dr: dark castle, anyone's invited.
[ he shudders; the breath catches in the cold air, instantly white and foggy, and riku curls his hands around his shoulders, shaking his head.
it's freezing out here. he shouldn't be out here. he's way too away from the cabin for anyone to see--he's not sure if there's anything inhabitable around here. and... well, that's the point, isn't it? he looks back ahead of him, his back towards the city, and breathed in deep. slowly, he drops down onto one knee, then both, shivering as he does so, and closing his eyes. pulling his hood down, he grits his teeth against the brisk, snowy wind, and exhales low. ]
Time to live up to being a Master.
[ his words are lost in the wind, but he curls his hands into fists and presses them against his chest, lips drawn into a frown. peals of darkness start to emerge, but it's too fast--and in an instant, he's gasping and sweeping his hands out to his sides. ]
That's wrong. [ too fast, too strong. he breathes back out, brings one hand back to his chest, and shakily splays out his fingers. he listens to his heartbeat and the worry and tension fades from his face, and the darkness comes out in a slow but steady circle around him, perfectly controlled and membrane-thin. little strings of white light accompany it randomly--riku has never tried to control his light, it has never needed to be controlled, but his darkness has always needed to be kept on a tight leash. he exhales again, but doesn't open his eyes, shakily getting to his feet. the darkness trembles, like it's ready to rebel, but he keeps calm. ]
This is my power, my Darkness. It's under my control. I'll use it how I want to.
[ as if following orders, it relents, smoothing out like the surface of a pond. only then does he open his eyes, and looks up. the pillar of darkness around him is tall; it drops off about ten feet above him, and the scent and feel of the power is strong enough to overwhelm. the purity of both elements is extreme; there is little mingling in greys, but it is pure light against pure darkness, and they rub and grate against each other as if both elements know they shouldn't ever be in close proximity together--they shouldn't coexist, they shouldn't coexist in one body like riku. this should, by all rights, be impossible. for a moment, he staggers--the strength of both of them in tandem would make anyone drunk on power; it's doubtless one of the reasons he's still been used as a pawn and a tool. riku's been burned too badly to ever think of using this power as anything but for higher powers and greater goods; he swallows hard and narrows his eyes, letting his arms hang by his sides before he starts stalking forwards, and his power leaves behind interrupted snow in his wake, like blades cutting through his path.
it's warm. the darkness is, somehow, warm. at first, riku mistakenly thinks it's the light mixed in, but that's not all. shouldn't darkness be cold? after a moment, he thinks of nights under the covers, of warm summer nights, of a mother's embrace, and not for the first time does he think of the darkness differently. with one leg forwards, he focuses, and splays his fingers out suddenly, as if sprinkling powder into the air. in an instant, dark spots appear everywhere like black glitter, flit around like fireflies. warm summer nights. he can almost hear the ocean breeze.
what more? the paopu tree. he jogs a bit forwards, chews his bottom lip, and tries to imagine a paopu in his hands at first, shutting his eyes tight like he was wishing--to open one eye and let out a breathless laugh when it manifests in his hands, heavy as it would be. lifting his gaze, he disperses the fruit in his hands, and remembers days of sitting on the bent paopu tree, with kairi and sora beside him. it's slower, with so many memories to shift through, but it grows, blossoming before his eyes, and before it's even fully finished he runs towards it, plants his hands onto the bark and leaps onto the bark. maybe it's his memories keeping him warm. there's a calm in him now, and as he looks down at his hands, he thinks, and stands on the trunk, walking to the edge of the tree; leaves dip down low into the snow as he walks.
the swirling membrane of darkness around him swirls tighter now, just an inch away from him. he crouches, and jumps high in the air--before he can even make it onto the ground, he swipes darkness underneath him to make a bridge, which continues on building, and as he walks up them with a growing sense of dread, walls come to life, sliding up air and snow like they were colliding with an invisible force. edges of trees are clipped and bent as it grows, snowy stones covered and disappearing in the darkness. riku focuses on his worst memories--of empty hallways full of dark monsters, of sterile white columns, of losing and gaining and loss of control.
two castles merge together like a lifeform all around him, leaving him standing in the doorway, large double doors of castle oblivion wide open, to stare right into a place he never wanted to see in hollow bastion.
it's warm. that's the first thing riku realizes, and the way he knows that this is his creation. the castles were always cold.
he walks in, and the doors stay open. ]
Location: Winter-Exsilium; some emptier fields away from civilization.
Characters: Riku; open.
Summary: Riku has always been shown and been told that his powers are nothing but destructive. He's never taken the time to think to think that maybe it's not true--not until now. Maybe things can be different from now on.
Warnings: N/A. Long post ahead, but tl;dr: dark castle, anyone's invited.
[ he shudders; the breath catches in the cold air, instantly white and foggy, and riku curls his hands around his shoulders, shaking his head.
it's freezing out here. he shouldn't be out here. he's way too away from the cabin for anyone to see--he's not sure if there's anything inhabitable around here. and... well, that's the point, isn't it? he looks back ahead of him, his back towards the city, and breathed in deep. slowly, he drops down onto one knee, then both, shivering as he does so, and closing his eyes. pulling his hood down, he grits his teeth against the brisk, snowy wind, and exhales low. ]
Time to live up to being a Master.
[ his words are lost in the wind, but he curls his hands into fists and presses them against his chest, lips drawn into a frown. peals of darkness start to emerge, but it's too fast--and in an instant, he's gasping and sweeping his hands out to his sides. ]
That's wrong. [ too fast, too strong. he breathes back out, brings one hand back to his chest, and shakily splays out his fingers. he listens to his heartbeat and the worry and tension fades from his face, and the darkness comes out in a slow but steady circle around him, perfectly controlled and membrane-thin. little strings of white light accompany it randomly--riku has never tried to control his light, it has never needed to be controlled, but his darkness has always needed to be kept on a tight leash. he exhales again, but doesn't open his eyes, shakily getting to his feet. the darkness trembles, like it's ready to rebel, but he keeps calm. ]
This is my power, my Darkness. It's under my control. I'll use it how I want to.
[ as if following orders, it relents, smoothing out like the surface of a pond. only then does he open his eyes, and looks up. the pillar of darkness around him is tall; it drops off about ten feet above him, and the scent and feel of the power is strong enough to overwhelm. the purity of both elements is extreme; there is little mingling in greys, but it is pure light against pure darkness, and they rub and grate against each other as if both elements know they shouldn't ever be in close proximity together--they shouldn't coexist, they shouldn't coexist in one body like riku. this should, by all rights, be impossible. for a moment, he staggers--the strength of both of them in tandem would make anyone drunk on power; it's doubtless one of the reasons he's still been used as a pawn and a tool. riku's been burned too badly to ever think of using this power as anything but for higher powers and greater goods; he swallows hard and narrows his eyes, letting his arms hang by his sides before he starts stalking forwards, and his power leaves behind interrupted snow in his wake, like blades cutting through his path.
it's warm. the darkness is, somehow, warm. at first, riku mistakenly thinks it's the light mixed in, but that's not all. shouldn't darkness be cold? after a moment, he thinks of nights under the covers, of warm summer nights, of a mother's embrace, and not for the first time does he think of the darkness differently. with one leg forwards, he focuses, and splays his fingers out suddenly, as if sprinkling powder into the air. in an instant, dark spots appear everywhere like black glitter, flit around like fireflies. warm summer nights. he can almost hear the ocean breeze.
what more? the paopu tree. he jogs a bit forwards, chews his bottom lip, and tries to imagine a paopu in his hands at first, shutting his eyes tight like he was wishing--to open one eye and let out a breathless laugh when it manifests in his hands, heavy as it would be. lifting his gaze, he disperses the fruit in his hands, and remembers days of sitting on the bent paopu tree, with kairi and sora beside him. it's slower, with so many memories to shift through, but it grows, blossoming before his eyes, and before it's even fully finished he runs towards it, plants his hands onto the bark and leaps onto the bark. maybe it's his memories keeping him warm. there's a calm in him now, and as he looks down at his hands, he thinks, and stands on the trunk, walking to the edge of the tree; leaves dip down low into the snow as he walks.
the swirling membrane of darkness around him swirls tighter now, just an inch away from him. he crouches, and jumps high in the air--before he can even make it onto the ground, he swipes darkness underneath him to make a bridge, which continues on building, and as he walks up them with a growing sense of dread, walls come to life, sliding up air and snow like they were colliding with an invisible force. edges of trees are clipped and bent as it grows, snowy stones covered and disappearing in the darkness. riku focuses on his worst memories--of empty hallways full of dark monsters, of sterile white columns, of losing and gaining and loss of control.
two castles merge together like a lifeform all around him, leaving him standing in the doorway, large double doors of castle oblivion wide open, to stare right into a place he never wanted to see in hollow bastion.
it's warm. that's the first thing riku realizes, and the way he knows that this is his creation. the castles were always cold.
he walks in, and the doors stay open. ]
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