Okay, this is a Zemyx/Dexion fan fiction, but I'd say quite a bit of it is really about the nobodies' struggle to actually live. And Larxene... Somewhat plot spoiler- She will eventually digress into her actual personality. -Somewhat plot spoiler... Oh and the beginning, that's Zexion speaking. That's why it's so... complex? Not really, oh well. Lol. Enjoy.
Replica
December 30th, 2009. 6:37 P.M.
Login 364. Identification code: 2652491519. Number six, registering in.
After reviewing all records of my study on the behavior of non-persons, I have discovered a… miscalculation. We are failing.
The non-persons, or nobodies, are the imprints of a "whole" person, or one who possesses the figurative meaning of a heart. Nobodies' must subsist on the previous memories of their original form for continuous existence. Because of their dependencies on the past, the nobodies' behavior shadows the emotions of the original beings' memories. These emotions are triggered by similarities in situation. If the nobody's senses detect a familiar environment or interaction, his or her body relapses into a temporary sub consciousness, ultimately reenacting the memory without any type of variation. Being that the process leads to unstable living conditions, the nobody is often placed in extremely hazardous situations, typically fatal for the non-person.
Recently, a cure for the mental disturbances has been revealed by the Superior. For years, in his original form, Xemnas experimented with the captured hearts of those lost in darkness. After Xemnas' change into a non-person, his tactics became more unethical with each failed attempt of resurrecting a "whole" person with tainted hearts. The method of returning a nobody to his or her original form, according to the Superior, requires the collaboration of a pure heart and contaminated heart. The collecting of contaminated hearts is swift and simplistic. No persons are directly harmed through the Organization by collecting the darkened hearts. The contaminated heart is released from a "whole" person's body and then recaptured for further examination in the laboratories.
The pure heart is an exceedingly rare find in society. When a pure heart is located, the closest nobody unexplainably suffers sharp pains and body lesions immediately. After the nobody undergoes the sudden outbreak, the mind of the non-person is completely controlled by the previous memories, or in a sense, his or her original form. The mind is dominated for twenty-four hours, leaving the nobody in a harsh state of amnesia and aggression. The entirety of the nobody's personal memories is replaced by the original being's, therefore causing great stress on the body and mind of the non-person. Shortly after the twenty-four hours, the nobody collapses and reverts into some form of a coma. The non-person's coma may last up to ten years depending on the purity of the heart and the current stability of the nobody. In some drastic cases, the nobody can be revived from such conditions by surgically removing the original being's memories from the brain, although this leads to the non-person's incapability of ever being "whole" once more. Research is being conducted to halt the development of prolonged unconsciousness near pure hearts, but the testing is exceptionally dangerous and few times has it been successful.
Xemnas has created an outlet for those whom wish to escape the mental disturbances and the possibility of a coma. Half of a contaminated heart is infused with the nobody's body, which in turn, generates a half-being. The half-being is able to feel as a "whole" person would, but because the half-being only possesses parts from the contaminated heart, he or she becomes unproductively violent and sadistic. Along with the shift in personality, the half-being is unable to become a "whole" person, because naturally, the body collects too much strain after surgery to be operated on a second time.
Nobodies also have the option of daily medication through injection. The medicine postpones the arrival of memory relapses and gives better control to the nobody, whilst the original form's memories try to dictate the mind. Although the superior fabricated the treatment, it is increasingly difficult to accumulate due to a high demand and low supply. Some "whole" persons have manufactured their own home "remedies" to bribe the non-person's for immoderate amounts of munny. Characteristically, the remedies construct an intoxicated state and distract the nobody from outbreaks through a fixated "high." The use of home remedies deteriorates the body of a non-person exceedingly, but, strangely, the nobody feels the emotions of a "whole" person in a sort of hallucinogenic trance.
Xemnas will not permit any person, or non-person, in the Organization to participate in such activities. He fears the intermingling of the home remedies and his experiments will cause a weakening in his research and… subjects.
Login 364. Identification code: 2652491519. Number six, registering off.
Number Six stared at the laptop's screen as it flashed erratically before blacking out. He honestly couldn't figure out how to fix the damn thing after a certain flower-obsessed specimen had tossed it at his most favored companion, Larxene, during an argument.
Zexion typically enjoyed the company of Larxene. She was pretty, headstrong, and dreadfully kind, in a sense, to him since their first meeting. He wasn't in love with her. No, Zexion considered her the only nobody he could tolerate. He couldn't comprehend what the sentiments of love were nor did he care to understand them. Number Six was, undoubtedly, closer to experiencing the emotions of hostility. Usually calm and a tad bit melancholy, he could grasp a shadow of what hatred was. For Zexion, handling the other Organization's members required a different sort of tolerance.
Zexion and Marluxia had scarcely spoken seven words to each other in the confining walls of Castle Oblivion. Their conversations lasted for about five seconds and often included the subject of whether Marluxia would discontinue vandalizing books in the library, or if Zexion would stop being such a "tight-ass mother fucker." The two seemed destined to quarrel from their genetics alone. Number Six was remarkably short (five feet and five inches) and possessed a head of slate-colored droopy hair. Number Eleven towered over Six (six feet and three inches) with elongated, spiked salmon-colored hair. The pair just did not mesh.
Only Larxene had managed to keep the two of them from snapping each other's necks at every encounter. Searching for a distraction from the fighting, Number Twelve always laughed and smiled near them. She couldn't really explain why she did it ,except for that it was interesting to see people's reactions when she did. And thankfully, the gentle raise of her lips was enough to keep Number Six vaguely intrigued and Number Eleven vastly entertained. No one could "hate" her.
---
"Hey Zexion!" the blonde bellowed from across the hall.
Startled, Number Six whipped around with several heavy books and documentations in his hands, only to ram into some unsuspecting victim.
"Oh. Um. I'm sorry, Number Six. I didn't- here," stuttered a small blonde boy as he hastily gathered up papers. Well, hell, he would have been small, if Zexion wasn't only a couple inches taller than the boy and far beyond the age of fifteen. Number Six was caught up in his thoughts, until he heard a harsh thud and viewed several more of his papers "riding the wind" with his peripheral vision.
"How's it going down there, Roxas?" the crimson haired nobody laughed while pressing his victim further into the glass floors. Axel's laughter sent Roxas into a squirming frenzy. Entering assault mode, Larxene popped in front of both of them and started snickering as well. Roxas noticed the presence of another and began flailing his arms up and down like an eighty-year-old woman in a closet full of giddy Chippendale's employees. Axel burst into hysterics, and the female nobody wasn't far behind before-
"Enough. Number Eight, release him and attend to your duties. Number Thirteen, stand up and do not waste time on retrieving the documents. I'm perfectly capable of such tasks. Number Twelve, was there something you needed?"
"Sheesh. We were just screwing around. What's your problem?" the redhead huffed while raising the newly petrified Roxas up by his hood.
"I am not in need of repair. Simply go back to your responsibilities. You are wasting time."
"We have all the time in the world. We don't age."
"Despite our advantages in age, we do not have 'all the time in the world.' And there is certainly no time for your ludicrous behavior. Return to the tasks assigned to you."
"You need to laugh a little more, Zexy."
Zexion inwardly grimaced from the nickname but continued to instruct his subordinates with the same low, monotonous tone as before.
"Laughter is useless. We are nobodies-"
"And what the hell would you know about laughter?" Axel barked, " Laughter may be 'useless' in your eyes, but I can feel it."
"It is irrational to act out what you know none of us possess-"
"Don't tell me we can't feel. You may be the one fucked up piece of worthless shit that can't, and I believe it, but we can. I swear, you are so damn meaningle-"
Larxene stopped his sentence with the swift and gentle placement of her hand over his lips. Axel stared at her in an indifferent stupor for a moment, closed his mouth, and walked away.
Roxas tried to keep collecting the papers, but Larxene patted him with her shoe to leave. He stalked off slowly, and eventually, broke into a run after Axel down the hallway.
"Zexion."
"…"
"Hey, talk to me."
"…"
"Zexion…"
"Hmm…"
"I'm sorry about what Axel said. He really doesn't mean it as harshly as he says it. Zexion. He's just unhappy about being a nobody, and he kind of feels- Oh. Maybe, maybe you should try a new tactic for getting along with your coworkers."
"Hm."
"Just don't act like a nobody-"
"We are nobodies. No one should pretend to act as a 'whole' being. We do not contain such emotions."
"But we may never be 'whole.' We all know that. You should realize that too."
"…"
"…"
"…"
"Zexion…"
"…"
"Fine."
"…"
"Give me a hand will you? Ugh. Never mind. I swear you are so useless sometimes." Larxene joked.
"…"
"Zexion." She was getting exhausted of saying Six's name so much in one day.
"…"
"Zexion, I'm talking to you!"
Number twelve quickly grabbed the last of the papers before glancing upward at her uncommunicative comrade. She stepped back slightly. Zexion was standing erectly, visible eye wide open. He staggered forward a little and suddenly collapsed onto the glass.
"Zexion!"
The nobody started thrashing against the glass violently. Specks of glass crunched and scraped across Zexion's face, whereas many of them were leaving gentle streams of blood to run across his skin. What was more was that Larxene couldn't carry or transport Zexion through a portal because of a recent experiment that rendered the arms essentially useless. She knew that if she left him he could do worse things to himself, so she decided to scream. A "whole" being's yelp cannot began to compare to that of a nobody's. The nobody's cry is thunderous and wailing. Because a heart is absent from the non-being, the body uses its available resources to replicate what it should feel but cannot. And Larxene's screams were some of the worst.
"HELP! ZEXION IS…! PLEASE, HELP! HELP! SOMEONE! ANYONE! ZEXIO-"
Larxene's shrieks were cut off by the impulsive grip of a hand. She struggled, watching Six's eyes squeeze tighter with his constricting hand. She peered into his face; pupils dilated, forehead clenched, and even a slight leer had graced his features. She clawed at her throat, waiting for the harnessed air to come. Larxene paled. Face softening, she looked at the unpredictably strong nobody before her. Zexion tightened his hand, but he pulled closer, revealing terrified eyes. It'd stop. She knew it would. He would.
Eyes fading, Larxene dropped her struggling arms and drooped slightly in his grip.
Boom.
Number Six fell to the ground, writhing. His body convulsed in pain, while his mind broke into the greatest of frays. Chest heaving higher and faster, Zexion snapped, eyes darted from light to black. Stop it. Stop. Stop. Stop!
He shot up, wavering slightly from an acute pain on the left side of his forehead. Gaze examining the room, his eyes landed on a black puddle lying far from him. Cerise hair separated itself as part of the spill, while a fringe of blonde hair was lifted off the ground. Zexion crawled over to the pair. His hand reached up, searching for his companion. His friend.
"GET- THE FUCK… AWAY FROM H-HER!" wheezed the standing figure.
"Marluxia, please!" Six cried.
The nobody replied with the sudden thrust of a knee. Zexion crashed backward, head plummeting into a nearby wall. He lurched, falling into the hallway. A red puddle lying under him.
"Please, help."