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#anyway com is so cool for the symbolism and metaphors alone i really dig it
daylighteclipsed · 2 years
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Thinking again about the end of CoM as a metaphor for repressing trauma vs facing it to heal and grow as a person and I really just
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It really does feel intentional that what Sora goes through in CoM — losing his memories and almost losing himself — is a lot like what Sora describes being a heartless was like: “I was lost in the darkness. I couldn’t find my way. As I stumbled through the dark, I started forgetting things — my friends, who I was… The darkness almost swallowed me.”
Both halves of CoM are visual representations of what Sora and Riku each went through when they fell/almost fell to darkness in KH1. Riku’s memories are devoid of people because he cast them from his heart. Sora’s memories are full of people he forgets because he sacrificed his heart. And if we are supposed to see CoM as a near-death journey/an exploration of the unconscious, it is pretty on point for Marluxia to have a grim reaper aesthetic. Sora’s battling death.
Anyway, that’s why Data Sora’s decision to accept the loss of the memories of his friends and face that pain in Coded, live with it, is so significant.
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Because that’s what the real Sora failed to do in the real Castle Oblivion. He never should’ve forgotten what happened there. He should’ve accepted those losses — and the pain attached to them — knowing that even if he can’t remember his friends, they remember him. Even if he doesn’t know them, he remembers caring about them. And even if he can’t recall specific memories, they’re not gone. He’ll remember them, some day. And in the meantime, the people he loves will help him shoulder the burden.
In a figurative sense, Sora has never left Castle Oblivion because he’s never accepted this pain. He has never moved on past this point, unlike Riku who decides to face Ansem, the representation of his trauma, and leave the castle, leave the darkness, to begin walking the road to dawn — the road to recovery. Sora’s still there, still under that dark night sky.
And now, after sacrificing himself again, there’s a very real chance he’s forgetting things and losing himself again, and surprise, surprise — look where he is.
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Tied to a new character whose name means “night sky” to boot… Trauma has a way of biting us in the butt when we don’t deal with it properly. The past has a way of chaining us when we don’t move forward… Sora’s gonna have to do it right this time. He’s gonna have to face his pain and accept it if he wants to step forward into the light and exist again.
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panticwritten · 6 years
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Homecoming
I figure, to celebrate making through the summer, I’ll post one of the scenes I’ve been working on. It’s basically how Connor got back to the Cube three days before An Idiot’s Return.
Word Count: 2,978
Content warnings
Hallucinations
Implied suicidal ideology
Let me know if I missed any!
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I huddle in the corner of a room. Their room. Jess’s room, from home. Sometimes it turns into their father’s living room, but it’s normally the mess of a room that Jess used to hide in. We used to be there every day.
Together.
Now, there are three different projections of them all talking at once. They don’t acknowledge each other—or make any sense—but they’re all enthusiastic and happy to see me. They keep their eyes on me and pause regularly as if I’m actually answering them.
I sent my double back to the Cube.
He deserves to be there more than me. I can still feel the toxic ability in my head. I can’t go back, not if I want to keep everyone safe. From what I know, Jess is recovering just fine without me there.
I cover my face with my hands and slump against the wall.
I can’t tell what’s real anymore. What’s true.
“Even in the square root so tired so good what do you mean damn metaphors im trying ill show them symbolism it was awesome i thought it was good rewriting history, ha—”
“I’m fine.”
The three voices vanish in favor of one that doesn’t quite sound right. Irritated. Tired. Definitely doesn’t sound fine. I don’t move.
“I wasn’t exactly expecting this to be easy. I’m still not sure if I believe I’m talking to the real you.”
I fall to the side when the wall containing the room disappears. I curl in on myself and wait. I need to know who it is. I need to know what new thing the memories are offering me now. If I can ignore it, maybe I won’t have to deal with it for a while.
“How are the boys? I know I said I’d come over, but—”
The voice cuts off, and now footsteps join it. I think I might know who it is, and I don’t know if I can handle a projection of Jay telling me how wrong I am. How I can’t complain because they told me there were better ways to do this.
They told me and they were right.
“Holy shit, I think that’s him.”
I finally uncover my face and open bleary eyes. A figure approaches—sound says at a jog, but I really can’t tell—but I don’t move to greet them. I wait to see what they’ll say. To see if they’ll be nice or not.
“Connor?”
A hesitant hand touches my arm and quickly disappears. They lean close until I can almost actually make out the details of their face. It definitely looks like them. Maybe splinters of Jess project correctly.
“Can you sit up?”
I don’t really want to, but I force myself upright and rub my eyes. Maybe I’ll actually be able to see the flaws in my memories if I can see straight.
Ha.
“Yeah. Yes, D, I found him. Tell j355 to get back on the line.”
A crackle of sound from whatever device they have. I blink at them, but my vision is still blurry. If I give it a few minutes, they should go back to normal.
“I know. Yes. 65%. We’ll find out when I get back.”
“Goodie,” I mutter. “Another daring rescue attempt.”
They still.
“Scratch that. 90%.” They stoop down next to me. “How many times has someone tried to get you out?”
I rub my eyes again while I think on it.
“Lost count,” I eventually say.
“Will you walk with me, at the very least?”
They crouch on their heels with a hand extended to me. If I say no, will they go away? Will I have a minute for my mind to just be here, wherever here ends up being? Just a minute without a projection trying to give me false hope?
I sigh and take their hand. It’s better than being alone.
They reach up with their other hand to touch their ear.
“Make sure no one enters the lab without my express permission.”
They stand and pull me up after them. I’m almost surprised that I don’t sway. They immediately start forward and I follow at their side. I’ll humor them until they phase out like the others. They have good intentions, even if they aren’t real.
“How long has it been since you and Jordan split apart?”
Jordan?
I stare blankly at them and realize my vision has returned mostly back to normal. They don’t look altered at all. That’s almost scarier than if I’d been given proof that they’re just an image. The idea that they might actually be here is too dangerous to entertain.
It’ll hurt more when they turn out not to be.
“The other half of you?” Jay prompts.
They aren’t supposed to know about that. My double went back, he should have returned and taken on who we were to make it easier for everyone else. That’s what I would have done. If they think he has a different name—if they know about him at all—this can’t really be them.
I answer anyway.
“I don’t know. Time doesn’t work right here.”
“If it helps you remember,” they offer. “I’ve been looking for you for five days and he’d been in the Cube for a week before coming to me.”
“About three weeks, then,” I amend. “Why did he come to you?”
“He inherited the power of manipulation. He wanted me to help him control it.”
No.
I stop and let my hand fall out of theirs. There are more and more strikes against this really being them. Of course my biggest fears would come to haunt me like this. A blessing of a rescue coming with the knowledge that, not only did Jordan reject the plan we’d made, he’s still just as capable of relapsing into unhealthy control as I am.
“Connor?”
I shake my head.
“We have to go back. I can tell without even running any tests, you’re unstable.”
They’re so worried. They believe they’re real. That they can get me out. That there’s any way I could leave the memories now. I’ve been replaced, and everyone’s safe and everyone’s fine. That has to be the truth, so they can’t really be here.
“You’re going to fall apart if you stay here. You’ll disappear.”
“Good!”
Their breath catches, and I’ve never seen Jay so scared. Not even when Jess almost died. They stare at me, gaze not wavering when an indistinct voice chatters through their com.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do,” I growl. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to hold it together if they stay here. “Now leave.”
“You don’t mean that,” they repeat. They speak firmer this time. Either they know something or they’re trying to convince us both.
“Please. Just go.” I take a step back, but they follow.
“If you meant it,” their voice cracks, but their stare is too intense for me to think of them as uncertain. “I wouldn’t have a choice about it, would I?”
Any argument I might have dries up in my throat.
They nod and finally look away. They dig in their coat. Before they even withdraw their hand, a door appears in front of them.
“If I had any sense, I wouldn’t have wasted time talking.” They jam a key in the door and jerk it open. “Thought it might be jarring to go straight back, but I obviously have terrible judgement out here.”
They hold the door open for me, and I stare through it. The fluorescent lights of the lab wink back at me. It could still be a trick. Another trick of the memories to keep me from even thinking about finding a way out.
Still, if this is real, there’s someone unconscious on their floor. They’re too busy watching me to see them, so I cross the threshold without much hesitation.
“Oh, thank god. Did you—” The voice over the intercom cuts off.  “Which one are you?”
“Connor.”
J355 sighs in relief as I kneel at beside the limp body on the floor. It’s D, Dirk’s older brother. I don’t even get a chance to check whether or not he’s injured before Jay drops down on his other side and presses two fingers into his neck.
Their sigh of relief calms me down just a little.
“What happened?” they call, turning their sharp gaze into the air. “Where’s Jordan?”
“Gone.”
“What do you mean, gone?” Jay hisses. “Disable the scramblers for ten seconds.”
They turn their attention back to D to press their hand against his forehead. The flow of emotion in the room spikes, a mess of anxiety and frustration, and D jerks upright.
“Holy fuck,” he gasps.
After a second, he scrambles to his feet without looking at either of us.
“Where’d he go?”
“He ran into the memories. I couldn’t stop him, I—” j355 pauses and a soft whir overtakes the intercoms for a second. My ability to sense the others’ emotions vanishes once again. “I’m sorry.”
“Damn.”
D turns back to us, and I can’t quite make out his eyes behind his shades. His flinch upon seeing me is almost imperceptible, but I think he knows it’s me. He doesn’t immediately accuse me of anything, at least. Instead, he turns to Jay to offer them a hand.
“I let slip why you ran out.” He tugs them to their feet, but I don’t wait for anyone else’s help before reconfiguring myself to be upright. “He panicked or something, I don’t know. S’the last thing I remember, at least.”
“He used you to disable my drone,” j355 explains. “Then you collapsed. Christ. I had to check your vitals to be sure you weren’t dead.”
“Sorry,” I mutter. At the slight frown D directs at me, I continue. “I fucked up. This whole thing was pointless and stupid, Jordan wouldn’t even be here if I wasn’t so—”
“There’s nothing you can do about it now.” Jay pushes past me into the lab. They call out into the empty space. “Where are you?”
“Table D9. I fell out of camera sight, so I’m not sure if I’m under the table or—”
“Here.” They duck under a table and pick up a drone. “You shouldn’t have to use one of these soon. Let’s get you up and running again.”
They wander into another room without looking back, so I’m left alone with a vastly older version of Dave than I’ve ever talked to. He looks after them with a deep frown. I didn’t know they were close.
“Hal wanted me to ask if you’d tell him about the memories,” he says without warning. It takes me a second to even realize he’s talking to me. “I have a feeling he’ll just swipe Jay’s files after they talk to you about it, but still.”
He shifts his weight and looks at me over his shades. There’s something unnerving about seeing an aged version of one of your friends. Something strange and uncomfortable, and I can’t help but like him immediately.
“Yeah, I—” I clench my fists until my nails dig into my palm. “Once I convince myself I’m really here, I’ll swing by.”
“Good. No running back out there, right?” He turns back to lab at large to watch the door Jay left through, so I can’t read him again. “A lot of folks would be pretty pissed if you turned right around and got yourself lost again.”
“How the hell did you end up being Jay’s friend?” I grumble.
“Ah, well.” He rubs the back of his neck and makes a face. “I came by after everything with the asshole version of Dave’s bro. They let me bring everyone else, now I always seem to be finding myself back here.”
Huh. Jay’s been holding out on me.
“Then again,” he muses. He tilts his head to look back at me with a rueful smile. “Bro and I have unofficially adopted half the Cube by now. With Jess caring so much about them, Roxy and the Captors hacking into their servers—and don’t even get me started on the rest of The Collective getting all catty about whatever the hell they’re doing back here—all that on top of Dirk and Hal poking around for parts, I’d’ve found my way here eventually.”
What the fuck? The Strider’s are looking out for everyone now? When the hell did that happen?
I cover my face with my hands and lean back against a table with a shaky laugh.
“God, I’m so out of the loop.”
“Wait ‘til you see the map the other kids are putting together.” He ruffles my hair and, god, I think D Strider just claimed me as a part of his family, what the fuck?
My legs buckle, but a chair I distinctly remember there not being catches me. This can’t be real. This is like the Cube I left, but swapped around and made different. I shake my head against the thought, but I can’t keep my mouth from opening.
“We’ve left the alpha timeline.”
D barks a laugh, and even Jay and j355 join in. The sound crowds around me, and I’m scared to move my hands or open my eyes. The prospect of finding out this was another piece of fiction bestowed by the memories is too painful. What would I even do?
Am I even capable of getting out anymore? Maybe I’m just a part of the memories now.
The laughter stops, I don’t know if it even lasted longer than a few seconds, but the silence is worse. It tells me it’s gone. I’m going to open my eyes and it’ll just be dark, maybe another projection of Jess waiting for me to talk to it. The disappointment is already too much to handle, and I haven’t even confirmed it.
Then, it’s not quiet anymore.
J355 whirs and thanks Jay, the distinct sound of a drone buzzing through the air joining their soft conversation. It sounds like D joined them further away, but I didn’t hear him leave. The Striders can just do that, I guess.
“I don’t have a way to track him,” Jay says, finally loud enough for me to make out. “He could already be swallowed in the memories, we don’t know.”
“Any chance he might come back on his own?”
The pause is just long enough for me to answer.
“No.” I uncover my eyes and locate the trio all the way across the room. “He thinks he’s a danger to everyone in the Cube. That we could fuse back together if we’re not careful. Even if we don’t, the two of us in one place with the kind of manipulation we have—”
“Connor.” J355’s voice washes over me, soothing and calm. I rein myself in.
“I’m just saying. He’s not coming back.”
“You’re right, sounds just like Dirk,” D mutters. Jay smacks his arm, earning a shrug. “Just sayin’, you can’t go blaming every little thing another version of you does on yourself. Jess doesn’t even do that, and they’re—well.”
He makes a gesture at the room at large.
Yeah, they’ve got plenty of versions of themself that have done shitty things. They’ve got plenty of versions of themself, period. I don’t know how they manage to keep everything straight or in order. I can barely handle having one.
“Dirk catches himself in the same cyclical thinking.” He raises a hand, stops himself, and starts again. “Or, everyone else catches him and he backpedals. Can he blame alternate versions of himself for doing crap he would never do? Is the fact that he’s scared of doing that a sign that he’s a good one? Then it goes to, thinking he’s a good one might be a sign of a shitty one’s ego, and on and on.”
“We’ve been working on that,” Jay chides. “Jess gets a lot of those guides to break out of negative cycles of thought, they help.”
They go back and forth like this awhile. I guess they’re both pretty interested in the well-being of the younger Striders. They mention the two versions of Dave, but then the alternate version of his brother comes up and the topic is dropped altogether.
The longer I’m here, the more convinced I am that it’s real.
I dig my nails into the arms of the chair just to prove I can, then lift my hands to stare at the marks left in the fabric. Cause and effect, it works here. I do it again and again on different parts of the chair, then I stand.
Jay and D both fall silent to look at me. I don’t know what they see, but I know for a fact I’m hyperventilating. I stare at them.
Then I seize a stack of papers from the table I’ve been sitting next to and throw it into the air. Jay objects, but j355 says something I don’t quite catch to shut them up.
I’m too busy watching the papers fall. And they do fall. They don’t just phase out or drop like rocks, don’t warp the air around them or change the surrounding room other than the complete mess they make. The papers fall how paper is supposed to.
I choke out a sound, and I’m not sure if it’s a laugh or a sob until it comes again. This time, when I fall to my knees I do land on the floor. I cover my mouth against the hysterical, hiccupping laughs. There’s nothing I can to about the hot tears squeezing past my eyes.
I’m out.
I’m here, this is the Cube.
Jay and D kneel at my side and try to get me to talk to them, but I can’t. I can’t even begin to find the words. There’s nothing I can say to relate this to them.
I’m home.
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