[When Riku first entered the chamber on Charizard-back, he was ready for anything. Though the topsy turvy mess of stairs made his head spin, it didn't matter at first. In a way, it was almost exciting. And, after swerving and ducking a few times, and maybe a few wrong turns, the two come barging in, spirits high and courage ablaze.
They barely make it through the door before everything falls apart.
One look at the massive, shadowy beast, and Flare's steadfast determination fizzles out. His eyes pop wide open, and he shrieks, wings folding against his back. Both he and Riku smash into the floor.
Gritting his teeth, Riku throws himself back on his feet, dusts off his clothes, and shoots a scowl at Flare.]
Hey, what's gotten into you?
[Flare doesn't make a sound, beyond a low, pitiful moan. Worse, he shrinks back, lowers his head, and takes an overall submissive position.
Left with no choice, Riku recalls him and, with a snap of the wrist, he sends Slacker back out, only to face similar results. Brow furrowing, he pulls back his starter, and his eyes fall upon one final Pokéball.
Terror.
Under normal circumstances, he'd refrain from using her. She's still too unruly. Too bloodthirsty, but at a time like this...
A click and a flash of light later, Terror appears with a screech, but while Riku expected a war cry, he instead finds that even his crazy dino stumbles backwards at the sight of the monster.
Is it really that hopeless? Without his Pokémon, Riku's got... what? Some kitchen utensils? A rusty sword from the armory? And what good would those do against something so huge? Reckless and stubborn though he may be, even Riku's aware of his limits. And maybe... maybe if he was his future self, that Keyblade Master Sora talked about, it'd be different. Instead, he's left without the grueling experiences he would have faced in time. And yet, all around him, people are regaining old skills, taking on this thing without fear.
His body freezes, in spite of the beast and its approaching minions. His eyes snap shut, his fists tremble... He's helpless, isn't he? And to think he tried to fix that by fighting against his own team, and for what? Exhaustion? Scrapes, burns, bruises? Sure, he's gotten a bit stronger, but so what? If he's really gonna protect what matters, he's gonna need more than just baby steps.
He needs to be strong. He needs to do something, anything to help!
It's with that thought that he feels a rush of power surge through him. Something firm materializes in his grip, born from a whirlwind of feelings and vague inklings of knowledge about his future. When he sees a Keyblade vaguely reminiscent of a wood carving Mickey once gave him and a weapon Sora described. The color's probably a bit off, and a few details may be askew, but at a time like this, why worry about details?
He's not sure if he's dreaming. With dagger-like claws shooting over him, there's no time to stop and deliberate. Teeth clenched, he charges forward and into certain danger. He's not sure what he's doing or if he can even keep up with the others, but push come to shove, he's gotta at least try.]
oh god, I apologize for the tl;dr. the introspection bug hit me hard
They barely make it through the door before everything falls apart.
One look at the massive, shadowy beast, and Flare's steadfast determination fizzles out. His eyes pop wide open, and he shrieks, wings folding against his back. Both he and Riku smash into the floor.
Gritting his teeth, Riku throws himself back on his feet, dusts off his clothes, and shoots a scowl at Flare.]
Hey, what's gotten into you?
[Flare doesn't make a sound, beyond a low, pitiful moan. Worse, he shrinks back, lowers his head, and takes an overall submissive position.
Left with no choice, Riku recalls him and, with a snap of the wrist, he sends Slacker back out, only to face similar results. Brow furrowing, he pulls back his starter, and his eyes fall upon one final Pokéball.
Terror.
Under normal circumstances, he'd refrain from using her. She's still too unruly. Too bloodthirsty, but at a time like this...
A click and a flash of light later, Terror appears with a screech, but while Riku expected a war cry, he instead finds that even his crazy dino stumbles backwards at the sight of the monster.
Is it really that hopeless? Without his Pokémon, Riku's got... what? Some kitchen utensils? A rusty sword from the armory? And what good would those do against something so huge? Reckless and stubborn though he may be, even Riku's aware of his limits. And maybe... maybe if he was his future self, that Keyblade Master Sora talked about, it'd be different. Instead, he's left without the grueling experiences he would have faced in time. And yet, all around him, people are regaining old skills, taking on this thing without fear.
His body freezes, in spite of the beast and its approaching minions. His eyes snap shut, his fists tremble... He's helpless, isn't he? And to think he tried to fix that by fighting against his own team, and for what? Exhaustion? Scrapes, burns, bruises? Sure, he's gotten a bit stronger, but so what? If he's really gonna protect what matters, he's gonna need more than just baby steps.
He needs to be strong. He needs to do something, anything to help!
It's with that thought that he feels a rush of power surge through him. Something firm materializes in his grip, born from a whirlwind of feelings and vague inklings of knowledge about his future. When he sees a Keyblade vaguely reminiscent of a wood carving Mickey once gave him and a weapon Sora described. The color's probably a bit off, and a few details may be askew, but at a time like this, why worry about details?
He's not sure if he's dreaming. With dagger-like claws shooting over him, there's no time to stop and deliberate. Teeth clenched, he charges forward and into certain danger. He's not sure what he's doing or if he can even keep up with the others, but push come to shove, he's gotta at least try.]