timearrow:

^{WELL DON’T BLAME SERAH OK? SHE WAS JUST DOING WHAT SHE WAS TOLD}

^{/tucks in}

ooc;;
no no no don’t cry shhhh its okay VENTUS LOVES SERAH SHHHH shhhh. /HUGS HUGS HUGS, PAP PAP PAP. sank yoo sank yoo for all da feelz sir-rahhh.

timearrow:

^{// WELL YOU ASKED FOR IT OK? KFJGHDFK DON’T BLAME ME YOU WANTED PAINFUL I GAVE YOU PAINFUL ; U ;}

ooc;;
YES I KNOW. UGH. WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF EVERY TIME. LOL.
/ lays down.

Although he may sometimes be desperate to connect with his family, it was never a subject he brought up often. He always walked around something he knew was particularly sensitive, and he was also aware that it wasn’t something of a “table-topic.” Still, when questions were ask, no matter how far and few in between they were, he felt the same every time. He felt the same about them every time. Ventus scratched the back of his head sheepishly, almost in a manner that made him careless. If there was anyone he couldn’t stand it was his father. An exasperated sigh escaped him, and he shrugged the weight and memory of his father off his shoulders. Despite the fact that he seemed to be able to brush the sheer thought of his father away, in all reality he couldn’t really. Everything his father was, Ventus worked desperately to be more, to be different, to be better. “My father was an abusive and drunk jerk— he didn’t treat my mother the way she deserved to be treated, and he didn’t give any of my brothers what every father should have. As for him and I? Well… we never got along, we never saw eye to eye, and I never liked him.” When talk of his mother came to mind though, he began to perk up a bit, a soft smile curling either corners of his lips in nostalgia.

“My mother … she was always very gentle though; she cared about her sons a lot and made sure she taught us all she could. Heck— she was even the one to make sure I was raised as a proper boy, not one of those ‘hoodlum, hooligans’ she’d call ‘em.” Ventus emitted a gentle chortle, and he folded his arms across his chest as he lingered in her memory fondly. “She always knew how to make Roxas happy, always knew how to make Sora content, and always knew exactly what to say to Vanitas to make him quit whining! She was good— the best. As for my brothers—” The eldest Knight rocked on the soles of his feet, his mind contemplating what to say when considering exactly how he felt with his brothers up till this present day. “— they’re my brothers. I’m always goin’ to love them, and I’m here and I’m not goin’ anywhere for a while. They know that. So if one day maybe, we can — I don’t know— ‘get along’ they’ll know where to find me. They can travel all they want and do what they wanna with their life, but I’m not going to sit around and wait. I got a life to live too, things I wanna do, and it just so happens I can do them all from here.” His brothers were also a very touchy subject, especially since all of them have recently become very estranged from one another. But Ventus always felt the same; he was always going to watch over them from a far, let them do as they wished till they found their heart’s content, and be as happy as he could be around them if they ever happened to visit. It was always a visage, but it was never meaningless. It was time they lived to learn their lives without each other, he supposed, and until they learned to do so, they wouldn’t ever learn how it is to be without each other.

At least that’s what his reasoning was. His mother was always much better at deciding what was best for the family and his efforts were only a pinch of what she could dealt. “I miss Vanitas the most… I was the closest to him when we were younger and I gotta admit— I probably spend too much time lookin’ for someone just to see if they’re alive. But if you asked me if I wanted him to come back?” He shook his head, his voice answering in confidence. “I’d say ‘no.’ He left us— he’s not ever coming back, and even if he wanted to he couldn’t. It’s too late to fix anything— especially not with me. Sora and Roxas though, I miss them too— but I’m not playing chasin’ games with ‘em anymore. I’m going to let them do what they want, and I’ll do what I need to do. One day we’ll meet in the middle, I’m sure— just not right now.”

“They’re my brothers; I’m kinda stuck with ‘em.”

If there was anything in his life, besides the bond he has with Aqua, Terra, and his family, there could be no bond more precious to him than the bond he had with Kairi. She had things no other woman, friend, nor family alike could compare, and she gave him things that were all together priceless. There was nothing in the world that could surmount what she gave him. If Kairi was lost to him forever not only would he be a half-hearted boy, but whatever sense of motivation, ambition, or energy he had in him— it’d be gone. It’d be a phantom whistle in a gust of wind.

She was his mind’s motivation, his heart’s core; if not she, then he would have none. He would leave his heart as the mess it is because only could be his clarity. “— Nothing would happen to me, that’s exactly it. I’d be what I am without action, without fervor, without love — I’d be practically nothing, a sleeping shell in a white room. She’s the something in my life, the fire, the ambition; without my friends, my family, without her, I’d be inanimate.”

There were just some things he wish he could answer with all the intensity of truth, and there were just some things he wish he could say without pain and without rapture. But if those things were easy, they wouldn’t sear in his veins so, and they wouldn’t leave behind the ashes of memories that lingered in the deepest corridors of his heart like a suffocating layer of dust and disease. Instead, those things remained exactly what they were. Things he knew was to be said out loud but were never said. So, the premonition of his past trickled on him like acid rain, his brows furrowed together, accompanied by his anxiety, and his hands clenched within themselves after viciously scraping over the sides of his temples in a manner riding high with guilt and frustration. “… I-I don’t…” He attempted to begin to explain, giving a whole-hearted effort to finally try to reveal himself, to explain why things that were painful could only ever be so.

Up-heaved with grief and anger he steadily sat himself down on a chair, crowned his elbows upon the length of his thighs, and allowed for his eyes to peer deeper, to rush back into a time when the word “together” meant something to him. His slender digits intertwined and coiled between one another as the mere action of trying to recollect his memories, like regurgitated nightmares, caused him all sorts of physical afflictions. “… I remember the night my brothers and I — we became just the Knight brothers, no longer the Knight family.” His eyes hardened and a hollow shadow began to dense in every nook and cranny of his face, his hands, his voice. “… I don’t know what I was doing that night— I mean, I knew— but I could never tell myself why what I did was so important that I couldn’t stop and be where I needed to be… We were separated in that night’s evening, my brothers and I. My father threatened my mother and younger brothers, Sora and Roxas, and I forced them away out of fear they’d get hurt and they’d see things — they’d see me and what I’m not, but what I am anyway.”

Ventus shook his head listlessly in disgust towards the memory, every event replaying in his mind with cinematic recall, all the sounds, all the feelings real and far from arbitrary. “Vanitas came in after me and we … ‘handled’ our father, put him down— made sure he’d never threaten our family again, but I was the first one out of that place we left our father and Vanitas was the last one with anything to say… I went to make sure my brothers and my mother were okay, but… I came up a hall— they were in my neighbors manor, y’see— and I left them alone there…” His visage lost all that fervor and wind, and his heart lost all those stitches and bandages that kept together his wounds still raw after all this time. That familiar light in him, the one that always said “things will be alright,” immediately dimmed, and the vacancy of his half-heart began to illuminate the depth of all the ditches and crevices that composed his good nature, his laughs, and his smiles. His hands shook with animosity and his eyes flared with a feverish white haze that reflected a misguided boy who would’ve done anything if only he could protect his family. With a tinge of malice, hostility, and a chasm of emptiness, he spoke sternly, with gritted teeth, as if he was still trying to make room inside himself for all his regrets and mistakes. “— I left my younger brothers alone with their dead mother, trying to protect them from their dead father. I stood in a hallway where if I looked forward I knew we’d be somewhere here, where we are now— one brother hard, one distant, one estranged, and another never to be seen again— and if I ever looked back, even once, we’d be nowhere. There would be nothing.”

A silence brewed and so did that boiling, fast simmering darkness that echoed and reverberated in that vacant slot forming the other half his heart. “— I should’ve never left them— I should’ve never left them there by themselves! They were just kids…”

ooc;;
/ FLIP A PING-PONG TABLE.
I’m INTIMIDATED to answer any of these quality-esque, serious threads in my draft box ‘CAUSE I’M CRAWLING AND SNATCHING at my muse for some DEEPER foot hold in him, so I can feel the very ESSENCE of him.

BUT IT’S COMING TO ME. /SMACKS PILLOW
SO. /SMACKS AGAIN.
SLOWWWWWWW. /SMACKS AGAIN.

Wtf Ven, wtf. Why you gotta go and make life difficult like that; why you gotta do me like that. #BUDDHATAKETHEWHEEL.

iracaelos:

   ^{“My clothes…?” he repeated, a thoughtful hum emanating from his throat as he slowly nodded his head in newfound understanding, meekly a smile broke from his austere notion. “You need not apologize—I get it now. I should be thanking you for your compliment.” His hands, ivory and smooth, cupped the other’s extended hand and shook firmly, nodding his head in acknowledgement to the other’s introduction. “Pleasure to meet you Ven. I am Noctis Lucis Caelum….but you may call me Noct.”}

“The pleasure’s all mine, Noct!” Ventus replied, as he abided by the individual’s words and referred to him as his name of choice. He shook Noctis’ hand firmly before withdrawing his hand, his own grasp reflecting the same warmth and wayward poise that could be seen in his eyes. Although Ventus seemed like a loose end, full of laid-back, casual chit-chat, he was quite the observant young man, his family now resting assured in their graves that he could be at least so. Noctis carried himself casually, yet with a regal air about him, his behavior not lacking so much as an apology and an appropriate greeting. Ventus pursed his lips into a smile, that same charmed smile he’d give any stranger or new found friend. Its repeated use is perpetual; his smile has never lost any of its genuine and innate charisma.

“‘Noctis Lucis Caelum’ is quite the name—” A soft, low chuckle emitted from the blond haired spike as he gingerly, and playfully, nudged on the other’s shoulder, a sense of knowing radiating from him. “— a family name. We can’t let go of ‘em, but we needn’t ever have to, right?” Ventus believed firmly in the bonds that forged the concept of family and remembered fondly the words of his mother in his youth. “My mother used to tell me family names were ones we had to keep out of lineage and obligation, but those names could never be explained without the first name, the name given to you at birth; those names were chosen— ‘n I think ‘Noctis’ fits you perfectly.”

Another chortle spurred from the elder Knight and although he subtly revealed his more serious and contemplative face, he much rather preferred settling into his cordial side. “Plus, ‘Noctis’ ‘n ‘Noct’ is kinda cool! Edgy, sorta— don’t`cha think?”