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So, I've hit a small block on the TimeTraveler!Sora fic, but that's okay. I'm having Pixie, (
prettypixiechan, and my roommate Tyna take a look at it to tell me what they think I should do next.
INSTEAD OF WORRYING ABOUT IT, HOWEVER! I'm going to post a few snippets of TTB Chapter 1, TTB Chapter 2, and the TimeTraveler!Sora fic.
Enjoy!
TTB Chapter 1 Snippet:
Feeling finally slides back into his fingers. Shaking hands drag through his hair, tapping anxious rhythms against his skin. Flickers of images press against his mind, like salt in an open wound, flaring bright and sharp. Remembered grief cuddles him and holds him, and he cannot seem to shake it off, attempting to brush its shadowing fingers from his shoulders. It never seems to work. He can’t stop himself from trying, trembling hands skittering across the rough fabric of his uniform, brushing off the invisible cold and ice of grief.
Cheerful murmurings of hopeful, too-happy nurses flitter through his ears as sound returns, echoing and large, and he sighs as similarly cheerful thoughts grate against him, their sandpaper-edged sides scraping the raw edges of his mind, and his headache flares again. The surface grief recedes, digging deep within him, replaced by equally painful, nonsensical hope. He knows instinctively that one of the nurses is nervous about something, and that the other one hates her, but is too polite and two-faced to say anything at all about it.
(He wishes he didn’t know. Life would be so much easier if he didn’t know.)
Demyx looks up tiredly, a sigh stirring the hair of his bangs. His hands sit shaking against the sides of his head. The world reforms itself slowly, colors and images resolving themselves into real shapes and items. Once again, the wall stands cool and solid against his overwarm back, and Demyx leans into it as he reorients himself with the hospital.
TTB Chapter 2 Snippet:
Looking abashed, Sora stoutly nods, not giving up. “Yes. I was just trying to get the hair out of me. Like how Griever does at home.”
Demyx stifles his laugh as he gets the fuzzy image of a grey and white cat, fluffy and large, hacking up a fur ball. His entertainment fades in a second as another picture -this one of a stern looking brown-haired man sitting in a chair, petting the cat as he reads- floods into his head. The image is accompanied by a wave of homesickness, and Demyx watches Sora hide it bravely, putting up a front for his brother.
“Griever is a cat. You are not.”
“I could be.”
Zexion sighs a little, but his exasperation is contradicted by the relieved curve of his lips. “But you’re not.”
“…no, I’m not,” Sora agrees sadly, looking at his lap morosely. After a second, he brightens up, turning to Demyx. “Hey, hey, hey, can you turn me into a cat he- whoa your hair looks like a COCKATOO!!”
TimeTraveler!Sora fic Snippet:
By the time he was twelve, it was almost normal.
It would happen with no pattern. He would be sitting in his bed, reading a book, and then he would be swimming completely underwater, breathing the sea as easily as air. The colors would be bright, and he would find himself fascinated, as always, with the flow and shine of the sun on his hands. A friend would call over, challenge him to a race. For a few minutes, nothing else would matter except the slide of water over his fins and the clear eyes of the boy beside him.
It always ended.
He always found himself back on his bed, or in the fields, or in the bathroom at school with no recollection of what had happened to him while he was somewhere else. No one else noticed. They never gave any indication that he was ever gone. Carrying on, as they always did, they would joke and nudge him and tell him of something funny, and he would laugh along, though he had no idea why it would be funny.
And he didn’t always go to fantastic, magical places, either. Sometimes, he just skipped a few minutes forward during his day, or went backwards an hour and was left with the lingering sense of dèjá vu for the rest of the day. Once, he skipped what seemed like years and spent an afternoon wandering around a college campus, not sure if he had anywhere to go, but enjoying the tall and grand architecture of the place and the way people called out to him and waved to him. He relived days where he was young, running haphazardly through the fields, or saw days where he was older, in places he didn’t recognize and with people he didn’t know.
He began to wonder if he was just dreaming. Falling asleep everywhere, or having vivid daydreams. But it was impossible. No one asked why he suddenly dozed off, or started staring out into space. His marks in school weren’t failing. His friends never mentioned anything like him disappearing. Eventually, he convinced himself that it wasn’t really happening at all.
(But the smell of salt water lingered on his skin for days, and the eyes of the boy were still familiar.)
Alright, so there you have it! I'm having fun writing these, so I hope you like them!
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
INSTEAD OF WORRYING ABOUT IT, HOWEVER! I'm going to post a few snippets of TTB Chapter 1, TTB Chapter 2, and the TimeTraveler!Sora fic.
Enjoy!
TTB Chapter 1 Snippet:
Feeling finally slides back into his fingers. Shaking hands drag through his hair, tapping anxious rhythms against his skin. Flickers of images press against his mind, like salt in an open wound, flaring bright and sharp. Remembered grief cuddles him and holds him, and he cannot seem to shake it off, attempting to brush its shadowing fingers from his shoulders. It never seems to work. He can’t stop himself from trying, trembling hands skittering across the rough fabric of his uniform, brushing off the invisible cold and ice of grief.
Cheerful murmurings of hopeful, too-happy nurses flitter through his ears as sound returns, echoing and large, and he sighs as similarly cheerful thoughts grate against him, their sandpaper-edged sides scraping the raw edges of his mind, and his headache flares again. The surface grief recedes, digging deep within him, replaced by equally painful, nonsensical hope. He knows instinctively that one of the nurses is nervous about something, and that the other one hates her, but is too polite and two-faced to say anything at all about it.
(He wishes he didn’t know. Life would be so much easier if he didn’t know.)
Demyx looks up tiredly, a sigh stirring the hair of his bangs. His hands sit shaking against the sides of his head. The world reforms itself slowly, colors and images resolving themselves into real shapes and items. Once again, the wall stands cool and solid against his overwarm back, and Demyx leans into it as he reorients himself with the hospital.
TTB Chapter 2 Snippet:
Looking abashed, Sora stoutly nods, not giving up. “Yes. I was just trying to get the hair out of me. Like how Griever does at home.”
Demyx stifles his laugh as he gets the fuzzy image of a grey and white cat, fluffy and large, hacking up a fur ball. His entertainment fades in a second as another picture -this one of a stern looking brown-haired man sitting in a chair, petting the cat as he reads- floods into his head. The image is accompanied by a wave of homesickness, and Demyx watches Sora hide it bravely, putting up a front for his brother.
“Griever is a cat. You are not.”
“I could be.”
Zexion sighs a little, but his exasperation is contradicted by the relieved curve of his lips. “But you’re not.”
“…no, I’m not,” Sora agrees sadly, looking at his lap morosely. After a second, he brightens up, turning to Demyx. “Hey, hey, hey, can you turn me into a cat he- whoa your hair looks like a COCKATOO!!”
TimeTraveler!Sora fic Snippet:
By the time he was twelve, it was almost normal.
It would happen with no pattern. He would be sitting in his bed, reading a book, and then he would be swimming completely underwater, breathing the sea as easily as air. The colors would be bright, and he would find himself fascinated, as always, with the flow and shine of the sun on his hands. A friend would call over, challenge him to a race. For a few minutes, nothing else would matter except the slide of water over his fins and the clear eyes of the boy beside him.
It always ended.
He always found himself back on his bed, or in the fields, or in the bathroom at school with no recollection of what had happened to him while he was somewhere else. No one else noticed. They never gave any indication that he was ever gone. Carrying on, as they always did, they would joke and nudge him and tell him of something funny, and he would laugh along, though he had no idea why it would be funny.
And he didn’t always go to fantastic, magical places, either. Sometimes, he just skipped a few minutes forward during his day, or went backwards an hour and was left with the lingering sense of dèjá vu for the rest of the day. Once, he skipped what seemed like years and spent an afternoon wandering around a college campus, not sure if he had anywhere to go, but enjoying the tall and grand architecture of the place and the way people called out to him and waved to him. He relived days where he was young, running haphazardly through the fields, or saw days where he was older, in places he didn’t recognize and with people he didn’t know.
He began to wonder if he was just dreaming. Falling asleep everywhere, or having vivid daydreams. But it was impossible. No one asked why he suddenly dozed off, or started staring out into space. His marks in school weren’t failing. His friends never mentioned anything like him disappearing. Eventually, he convinced himself that it wasn’t really happening at all.
(But the smell of salt water lingered on his skin for days, and the eyes of the boy were still familiar.)
Alright, so there you have it! I'm having fun writing these, so I hope you like them!