Is it a Gift or is it a Curse?
Characters: Naminé (lethechained) and open.
Setting: Floor Twenty
Format: Starting this way, will match.
Summary: Naminé is not sure what to make of her 'reward' for participating in the experiment.
Warnings: Contemplation, mentions of being trapped in a castle full of heartless people. TL;DR, as is unfortunately often the case I'msosorry.
[Naminé is not entirely certain what to make of the 'reward' she's been given for her participation in the experiment. Just finding it on her bed was startling enough; she never thought she'd see it again.]
[She isn't sure she wanted to.]
[The fact that the little sewn doll's eyes were closed had not made it any less jarring. It's still an obvious replica of her; imperfect, of course, since its hair is conspicuously made of yarn and it has (rather arbitrary) tiny wings attached, but nonetheless when it had sat benignly in its birdcage in Castle Oblivion when the castle had been her own prison, it had always been meant to represent her. So what, then, does it represent now?]
[That's what she's wondering, among other things, as she cradles it in her hands. She's seated just a little ways in from the rim of the twentieth floor. Roxas had found a place on the clock tower in Twilight Town, and although she'd never managed to find a place of her own like that, she thought that perhaps this particular floor was at least worth a try. It's precariously high and affords a view of the distance, so it has at least that in common with the clock tower. There's no sunset to speak of at the moment, but that's okay.]
[The doll arrived free of its cage. Maybe, in a way, it now shares a cage with its original. Or, instead, perhaps it's a sign of things to come. Whatever the case, she isn't certain that she should keep it. It's all too suspicious, considering its source. But even as she considers discarding it, even as she starts to move her arm back to throw it from the tower and from her thoughts, she finds she can't do it. She can't let it go.]
[It reminds her of a hard time, yes, and its presence is unnerving purely because of what it represents, but at the same time, it just seems... wrong to thow it away. It's her in effigy, yes, and that's both the reason she keeps it and a reason why she shouldn't bother; she knows better than to maintain a loyalty to herself, the incomplete shadow of someone else, and yet - to be real, to leave something behind, to not be forgotten is something she's always craved. It's a poor substitute for a heart and she knows it, but the doll is more real than she'll even be and she just doesn't have the not-heart to throw it away, but she does set it down next to her instead of continuing to hold it because she's not so sure when her mind will change again.]
[It's not quite enough to make her miss Twilight Town.]
Setting: Floor Twenty
Format: Starting this way, will match.
Summary: Naminé is not sure what to make of her 'reward' for participating in the experiment.
Warnings: Contemplation, mentions of being trapped in a castle full of heartless people. TL;DR, as is unfortunately often the case I'msosorry.
[Naminé is not entirely certain what to make of the 'reward' she's been given for her participation in the experiment. Just finding it on her bed was startling enough; she never thought she'd see it again.]
[She isn't sure she wanted to.]
[The fact that the little sewn doll's eyes were closed had not made it any less jarring. It's still an obvious replica of her; imperfect, of course, since its hair is conspicuously made of yarn and it has (rather arbitrary) tiny wings attached, but nonetheless when it had sat benignly in its birdcage in Castle Oblivion when the castle had been her own prison, it had always been meant to represent her. So what, then, does it represent now?]
[That's what she's wondering, among other things, as she cradles it in her hands. She's seated just a little ways in from the rim of the twentieth floor. Roxas had found a place on the clock tower in Twilight Town, and although she'd never managed to find a place of her own like that, she thought that perhaps this particular floor was at least worth a try. It's precariously high and affords a view of the distance, so it has at least that in common with the clock tower. There's no sunset to speak of at the moment, but that's okay.]
[The doll arrived free of its cage. Maybe, in a way, it now shares a cage with its original. Or, instead, perhaps it's a sign of things to come. Whatever the case, she isn't certain that she should keep it. It's all too suspicious, considering its source. But even as she considers discarding it, even as she starts to move her arm back to throw it from the tower and from her thoughts, she finds she can't do it. She can't let it go.]
[It reminds her of a hard time, yes, and its presence is unnerving purely because of what it represents, but at the same time, it just seems... wrong to thow it away. It's her in effigy, yes, and that's both the reason she keeps it and a reason why she shouldn't bother; she knows better than to maintain a loyalty to herself, the incomplete shadow of someone else, and yet - to be real, to leave something behind, to not be forgotten is something she's always craved. It's a poor substitute for a heart and she knows it, but the doll is more real than she'll even be and she just doesn't have the not-heart to throw it away, but she does set it down next to her instead of continuing to hold it because she's not so sure when her mind will change again.]
[It's not quite enough to make her miss Twilight Town.]