Call Vanitas pessimistic by nature (he kind of is), but it doesn't feel like a success, and his expression says as much. "I wouldn't say better," he says, and it's not something meant to salve Roxas's wounds or downplay his own achievements. It's what he believes. In the end, it seems like the same thing was doomed to happen. Split, shattered, missing, in the wrong body, overtaken. The most he managed was holding it off an extra year, and that wasn't even due to anything he did, in the end. "There wasn't any point to it."
Unless you count Xehanort's. He really hates Xehanort. He scratches at the stone beside him with a fingernail in lieu of making an Unversed.
Roxen asks that question, and he doesn't freeze, but stills. Scratch scratch. The by now almost gone ice-cream slowly slides down the stick, resting on top of the other hand, but he doesn't pay much attention as it drips. Was Eraqus horrible.
No, would be his immediate and what-a-stupid-question response in other circumstances. He didn't think so at the time. He's not sure he thinks so now, but time is the enemy of memory, and sometimes one event can make years of them become questioned. He exhales and licks his hand, sliding off the remaining chunk with his teeth and holding it in his mouth. "I don't know," he says, when it's melted enough he can speak around it. "He wasn't Xehanort. I didn't hate him. I don't even think he hated me." Rueful determination, was the expression on his face as he moved towards Vanitas. Vanitas or his clustering Unversed would have picked up something as strong and dark as hate. That doesn't exactly make it better - there's an acknowledgement and honesty to hate, vicious as it can be. "He kept me around for four years so there must have been something he was getting out of it."
Vanitas's views on friendship and connection in general are heavily based around mutual benefit and choice, as a way for it to make sense to him. He's a weird boy in that he's intensely loyal (to those who earn and keep his trust) but yet would never admit it.
He puts the stick in his mouth and bites down on it with a crunch to leech the last of the flavour out. He doesn't know that WINNER sticks are a thing so he didn't stop to check.
no subject
Unless you count Xehanort's. He really hates Xehanort. He scratches at the stone beside him with a fingernail in lieu of making an Unversed.
Roxen asks that question, and he doesn't freeze, but stills. Scratch scratch. The by now almost gone ice-cream slowly slides down the stick, resting on top of the other hand, but he doesn't pay much attention as it drips. Was Eraqus horrible.
No, would be his immediate and what-a-stupid-question response in other circumstances. He didn't think so at the time. He's not sure he thinks so now, but time is the enemy of memory, and sometimes one event can make years of them become questioned. He exhales and licks his hand, sliding off the remaining chunk with his teeth and holding it in his mouth. "I don't know," he says, when it's melted enough he can speak around it. "He wasn't Xehanort. I didn't hate him. I don't even think he hated me." Rueful determination, was the expression on his face as he moved towards Vanitas. Vanitas or his clustering Unversed would have picked up something as strong and dark as hate. That doesn't exactly make it better - there's an acknowledgement and honesty to hate, vicious as it can be. "He kept me around for four years so there must have been something he was getting out of it."
Vanitas's views on friendship and connection in general are heavily based around mutual benefit and choice, as a way for it to make sense to him. He's a weird boy in that he's intensely loyal (to those who earn and keep his trust) but yet would never admit it.
He puts the stick in his mouth and bites down on it with a crunch to leech the last of the flavour out. He doesn't know that WINNER sticks are a thing so he didn't stop to check.