[ Roxas's eyes go wide, a moment of hesitation. There's an instinctual reaction that it's not D'artagnan he bears so much ill will towards. But... After a moment he reaches out like a sleepwalker to take the other sword.
His memories swirl back to a fake sword in a fake world, roiling over the thoughts of the lovely lies that Ansem had woven for him. There is no part of him that thinks any of it was done out of kindness, it was all an insult to offer him merely a few days of normalcy and existence and then to rip it away.
He hadn't wanted to fight Axel either, but by then the betrayal was too raw and his friend had stopped listening, both of their malformed hearts weeping over a girl they had both tried to save and neither could remember.
He closes his eyes tightly for a moment, gripping the hilt of the sword in his hand until his knuckles go white, and then he back up a few steps. He normally fights dual wield, but when he only has one he takes a stance with both hands curled around the weapon.
He has been taught a little better than this by his PKN7 training, but now isn't the time for technique. ]
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His memories swirl back to a fake sword in a fake world, roiling over the thoughts of the lovely lies that Ansem had woven for him. There is no part of him that thinks any of it was done out of kindness, it was all an insult to offer him merely a few days of normalcy and existence and then to rip it away.
He hadn't wanted to fight Axel either, but by then the betrayal was too raw and his friend had stopped listening, both of their malformed hearts weeping over a girl they had both tried to save and neither could remember.
He closes his eyes tightly for a moment, gripping the hilt of the sword in his hand until his knuckles go white, and then he back up a few steps. He normally fights dual wield, but when he only has one he takes a stance with both hands curled around the weapon.
He has been taught a little better than this by his PKN7 training, but now isn't the time for technique. ]
Ok.