gorsecloud: (sweepy)
gorsecloud ([personal profile] gorsecloud) wrote2012-03-07 12:27 pm

4. Lost

Got I'm a bit - well, no very - behind on these. I've had an off week in multiple ways. Going to try and get back on track now.

One of the bigger challenges of these drabbles is trying to keep them varied and mixed up. So many of these prompts have angst potential due to obvious things. The problem though is that if I do too much angsty endgame stuff it'll just get repetitive. So. Unusual interpretations are a go? I dunno.

This story is partially my attempt to detangle that cutscene that NOBODY UNDERSTANDS. Seriously what the hell even happened... Also there is a tiny inside shipping joke/nod if you know me really well. If you can spot it you win internet cookies. It's not an obvious/well-known ship, I'll give you that much of a hint.

Day 4 (technically) - Prompt chosen: Lost

She's been wandering lost ever since she learned the truth. Puppet. Fabrication. Not a person, nor a Heartless, not even a Nobody. Created by the Organization in Castle Oblivion for some purpose. It had confirmed so many questions about herself, and yet had raised so many more. What was she? Why was she created? Why did she have the Keyblade? And most importantly, what about the memories?

The memories she had weren't hers, the ones of Sora and that girl he was always with. She was not his Nobody, nor hers. So why did she have their memories? They were so strong - filling her dreams and making her head heavy and fuzzy as she'd done her missions. Even now, they flashed and moved in the back of her mind, always there.

She moved from world to world, never staying for long, hiding whenever she saw a sign of a Black Coat. She didn't have to be clear on her identity to have a sense of self-preservation, and it was fairly clear that she would likely be branded as a deserter, and dealt with accordingly. It brought her earlier loss of her Keyblade into a much more horrifying light. If it hadn't come back, if she'd lost it for good, what would they have done: turned her into a Dusk? She wasn't even a Nobody to begin with. They'd probably have destroyed her.

She couldn't even bring herself to face Axel or Roxas, despite suspecting - from the few times she'd glimpsed them - that they were looking for her. They would want her to come back. She couldn't - not with the memories in her head a confusing mess and her questions still so muddled and tangled. So she ran, trying to sort through the visions and fragments that both were and weren't hers.

She couldn't hide forever though, and everything had finally come to a head that one day, as she'd visited the island Sora called his home. The memories inside of her buzzed in the back of her mind as she stepped across the sand, as they always did when she came here. She didn't care though - the Island was a beautiful place; she'd loved coming here even before she'd started remembering. Now, it was her only real place of solace and peace. There was too much chance of running into Roxas or Axel at the clock tower.

But as she'd walked across the bridge to the small islet, to the palm tree where three figures sat in the pictures painted in her mind, she heard a familiar voice calling her name. A very familiar voice. She had a few moments of bone-deep horror as she turned to face the new arrival - realizing she'd let her guard down, that she'd been found - before several things happened at once.

The buzzing memories burst forth into a painful roar. Her ears filled with sound, her vision clouded with a sort of static. And at the same time, there was a sense of pulling, of everything being drawn towards her. As she fell to her knees, clutching at her throbbing head, memories danced across her vision - memories that were not Sora's. There were voices around her, talking of darkness and hearts and forgotten friends. Each word was painful, hitting her until it was all she could do to curl up in a ball and wait for it to end. Things were shifting, changing without any logic or sense that her pain-scattered mind could comprehend, until she didn't even know who she was or what was real and what was memory and what was a dream.

She didn't even notice someone running over; barely felt them picking her up, holding her as she held her head and quietly begged Stop, stop please make it stop-

And then it did stop, abruptly as a connection being severed. She tried dazedly to open her eyes -- trying to see who it was, who was protecting her -- but it was no use. She only had time for two quiet questions - "Who am I? What am I here for?" - before darkness claimed her, leaving her final statement unsaid.

I'm lost and I don't know what to do.

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