ext_159379 (
taistoi.livejournal.com) wrote in
kh_drabble2009-01-26 12:36 am
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Entry tags:
non-challenge
Title: Form, Truth, Regret
Word Count: 231
Rating: G
Notes: What, you haven't seen Mononoke? You should remedy this, like. NOW.
You should also blame
tenshi_ryuu for being made of awesome inspiration.
Books, scrolls, ink. Words on the page, the smell of parchment and darkness and blood. Shadows and visions and mad, mad colors seen behind closed eyes, spiraling downward into Nothing.
Clink.
A young boy follows his best friend everywhere, admiring him, believing in him. A young man follows his best friend downward, beyond the door, into the Nothing. A young nonentity follows his best friend to the brink of madness and over the edge of oblivion. An older nonexistent man is blinded by those he trusts and loses everything in one moment of misjudgment of his powers. He fades, he fades.
Clink.
“Will you follow me, Ienzo?” he askes, different from before, brown eyes turned bright gold, shy awkward demeanor overshadowed by otherworldly confidence.
Ienzo beams up at Xehanort, full of excitement and wonder and adoration and yes, love, for he loves Xehanort in ways he can’t even begin to explain, even though words are his weapon, his tool. He can’t describe it but yes… “Yes, to the ends of the earth.”
Clink.
Dull blue flashes brilliant gold. It takes but a second for god to replace mortal merchant, and but a second for the reverse. The sleeves of his intricately patterned kimono flutter into stillness as the shadow of a specter – the remains of Nothing – flicker into the air.
He smiles that strange, vague smile, and continues on his journey.
Word Count: 231
Rating: G
Notes: What, you haven't seen Mononoke? You should remedy this, like. NOW.
You should also blame
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Books, scrolls, ink. Words on the page, the smell of parchment and darkness and blood. Shadows and visions and mad, mad colors seen behind closed eyes, spiraling downward into Nothing.
Clink.
A young boy follows his best friend everywhere, admiring him, believing in him. A young man follows his best friend downward, beyond the door, into the Nothing. A young nonentity follows his best friend to the brink of madness and over the edge of oblivion. An older nonexistent man is blinded by those he trusts and loses everything in one moment of misjudgment of his powers. He fades, he fades.
Clink.
“Will you follow me, Ienzo?” he askes, different from before, brown eyes turned bright gold, shy awkward demeanor overshadowed by otherworldly confidence.
Ienzo beams up at Xehanort, full of excitement and wonder and adoration and yes, love, for he loves Xehanort in ways he can’t even begin to explain, even though words are his weapon, his tool. He can’t describe it but yes… “Yes, to the ends of the earth.”
Clink.
Dull blue flashes brilliant gold. It takes but a second for god to replace mortal merchant, and but a second for the reverse. The sleeves of his intricately patterned kimono flutter into stillness as the shadow of a specter – the remains of Nothing – flicker into the air.
He smiles that strange, vague smile, and continues on his journey.
no subject
AND IENZO. OMG IENZO.
no subject
no subject