#is always going tobe hiliarious to me here

[valorxdrive]

❝ i’ll be keeping my eye on you. ❞ c:

Somehow these words never stopped holding a sweet sentiment, normally used by companions who found themselves bringing security with their gaze.

Just like Makima.

...Right?

Rare is the feeling that he ever actively tried putting a lens on the way he's being watched. Where those spirals that bordered on hypnotic rings didn't move, but some part of his soul swore they did, as if there was a strange, acidic friction that tried to actively work against him letting his heart bring higher definition to this link that settles between them. Despite how much it'd be very, very welcomed in this world that finds itself victimized by the boundless gluttonous of devils.

And not just by their powers that bordered to conceptual and heights of stellar destruction, but by elements of humanity that danced in depravity alongside them. As one of the newest 'Honorary' recruits to being a devil hunter, Sora couldn't bother to give it much thought while in the process. Makima's guidance on the matter have certainly led him to what could easily be considered monstrosities, lethal powers that needed to be stopped unless blood was spilled.

So what in the hell was this feeling!? It always found itself roaming during the dreary aftermaths, where little hope was salvaged. In this case, here they remain in territory being melted away from a devil's influence, allowing hellish looking wreckage to distort back to normalcy, letting it be metallic ruins burned from the forces of light and the crushing truths of high strength and physics.

A price felt like it was always being made.

"Heh.. Pretty high faith at work again?" The words hardly hold the usual pomp a better day would drag in. As they remain by a shattered elevator, gouged sections of skyscraper, alongside a rainy backdrop allowing them to drink in the water laden air that barely spritz onto the nearly destroyed walkway they remain upon.

Even now, that sensation of her eyes being focused, it never leaves him. Whether it was her means of expressing joy. Whether it was her method of exacting professionalism by her banner, Sora felt as if he'd never truly know.

The Keyblade's power has once more shown heights that felt more like a gambit than the actual fight. Sora's ability to manipulate time, to even deal with matters of space instantaneously moving, to even offsetting a void in the making. Compared to their first meeting where modest potential could handle the job.

Similar to these droplets, the truth finds itself joyously cascading, never enjoying to hide to begin with.

Within that same moment, his eyes find their focus, daring to peer in that bottomless brightness with sky lit irises. The mystical weapon settled in the hero's firm grip begins to fade, dispelling contently in motes of light that begin to dance to the heavens.

"...I think you're missing a better view if a lot of that attention is concentrated on me. Don't you think?"

Isn't the condition of this city finding better days supposed to remain the primary goal? As highly heartfelt he likes to perceive that very notion.

Sora has come to realize that the people within this job dance to a certain insanity. Now what exactly could that say about him?

@makimavellic

#makimavellic #| Bottle Mail #| Meme #the fact she's friction to Sora's desire #to have that authentic cloth with people by heart #is always going tobe hiliarious to me here