Clockwork Universe
| Clockwork Universe | |
|---|---|
| Date of Cutscene: | 15 January 2013 |
| Location: | Imperial Airship Alexander |
| Synopsis: | A snapshot of time in a clockwork universe. Tick. Tick. Tick. The hours pass by. |
| Cast of Characters: | Riku |
You would think by now that he would be no stranger to strange surroundings. Somewhere in the Imperial Archadian Airship Alexander, Riku sat on a ledge in an out of the way crevice. It was not exactly a viewing gallery but it afforded him a place to sit and a place to look out through the heavily armored glass or crystal at the world outside.
His fingers were splayed lightly against the metal ledge, head resting against an adjoining wall, eyes closed as he felt the vibrations underneath him. There was a thrum of life in the cold metal and glass and wires. The Alexander was a machine that flew through the air. It hunted, patrolling its territory like any airborne predator. Every corridor was full of busy people going about their tasks with an aura of purpose. It had a heartbeat, a steady pulse of activity.
He opened his eyes and watched the crewmen load supplies, in endless variety, into the maw of the giant war machine. They believed in what they were doing. They were proud of what they were doing.
He closed his eyes, lights dancing in the darkness all around him while he stayed inert. Hours past.
Dinner had been-- awkward because he was not ready to ask the question he wanted answered, or ready to answer the questions he already had been asked. He was also not ready to answer the ones he knew would eventually come.
No. The dinner had been awkward for many reasons.
He was an outsider to this private clockwork universe.
It was something that he had a great amount of practice with.
Still, there are some things so engrained by ritual that even strange surroundings cannot shake them. He awoke and dressed before
sitting on the edge of the bed. He had been worse places. He had been better places. Perhaps.. this place simply was. It existed, and he let that be good enough.
In his back pocket was a small notebook, and again he thought about recalling the journal. The more he saw, and heard, and thought about the concept of the Shard Seekers the more he was certain of their inevitable failure. Reize could not hope to hold them all, to hold all their disparate beliefs, different rules, and different lives together forever. What had reckless optimism and a steady heart gotten Sora in the end?
It had gotten him a keyblade and a ticket to oblivion.
Mixed signals there for sure.
Riku snorts, finding that he could chuckle at his own internal thoughts. The teenager finds himself at the ledge again, though every joint ached and he had more than a few bruises. There had been a period where he had not been here. The Judge Magisters had shown him the training hall. He had a chance to practice.. and to show off just a little.
And get soundly thumped for his pains.
Riku smirks lopsidedly, staring outside at the mesmerizing world below seen from the sky. Hours pass.
Afternoon turned to evening. Twilight pierced the land, vague threads lancing across the trackless desert and the unfamiliar terrain. His little notebook was filled with rambling, half finished designs and sketches. When the day was done he turned to the back of the notebook as he had done many times before. As his eyes adjusted to the artificial lighting, he continued to trace in the lines.
He was rebuilding the old pictures he had destroyed. He carefully shaded in the lines of the clothing as Sora and Kairi stared up at him from the picture.
No.
He had never destroyed them.
He could only do that by forgetting.
