This is a present for my loverdoll, Luca, long overdue. So, anyway: R&R, if you want. Enjoy.
--
He let out a gasp and clutched at his chest, flinging an arm up in the stereotypical way a man might react during a heart attack. Fingers tightening on the leather of his breast, he fell back stiffly, nearly hitting the ground but hovering just before he touched. The dread-locked man observing this display rolled his violet eyes and gave his companion a swift kick to his side, which caused him to flip over onto his front and, literally, eat dirt. The shorter man hopped up into a sitting position, sputtering and wiping sand from his mouth.
"What the hell, dude! That was totally unnecessary…"
The much taller, much fiercer, and far hairier of the two snorted disapprovingly.
"You were being annoying," he replied. The skunk-haired man still sitting in the dirt scoffed and folded his arms, looking offended.
"Ah, c'mon. I was just foolin' around. Can't appreciate a bit of humor? Or were you jealous of my acting?" When he grinned, it was like looking into the face of a coyote, a hungry, devious thing, with dangerous teeth and a tendency to get into your chicken coop.
"We're not here to 'fool around', Xigbar. Plus, your acting is terrible."
Xigbar huffed. "I think I did pretty good, considering I can't exactly put heart into my performances."
A chill wind blew around them, picking up dead leaves and dust and whirl winding it around them then away. They had started from the mountains, half trudging and tugging through the snow and half falling and tumbling through it. Coming out onto the mountain trail, they were wet and cold (well, Xigbar was, mostly. He had thought it would be a good idea to try sledding down the mountain, and ended up rolling the rest of the way down when his makeshift, wood bark sled snagged on something, and he moaned about it for a good portion of the rest of the way down, until Xaldin finally just offered up his own, mostly dry coat in exchange for Xigbar shutting his trap).
They'd wandered down until they reached a small clearing near a stream and a small waterfall, and moved into the forest of bamboo until it was too dark to go any farther. Mushrooms were dinner, as Xigbar had forgotten to bring their rations. As much as he "sincerely" apologized, Xaldin still made him eat the most gnarled mushroom he had found, which the salt-and-pepper haired man had commented at first on how ugly and probably poisonous it was. Since then, he had been doing on and off death scenes, grabbing his chest and going rigid. Admittedly, it had been amusing the first few times, because the first time Xaldin had nearly believed it and the second time Xigbar had tripped over a rock mid flail. The third he somehow managed to tumble backwards down a hill. Now it was just annoying.
But Xaldin was trying not to snap and whip a lance at the Freeshooter; the Superior would, unfortunately, frown on the killing of comrades, and this mission would not be successful without the skunk-haired Nobody to assist him. There was a lot of ground to cover, and Xigbar had already been there before so he knew the area. At least, that's what had been assumed when he was sent to accompany the dreadlocked man in this mission. It was becoming apparent that this assumption was wrong.
"So you're not sure if the village is this way?"
"I said I was pretty sure it was."
"But not one hundred percent sure. Not absolutely positive. You don't know, you're just 'almost sure'."
"Pretty sure."
"Pretty sure, then. And you were here for how long? A week and a half? What exactly were you doing, Xigbar?"
There was silence. Xaldin looked over his shoulder and was disturbed by the grin of delight on his superior's face. He croaked, "Nevermind."
Eventually the pair reached the outskirts of the village. If asked how they managed to get there, one would probably say "beats the shit out of me" and the other would say "beat the shit out of him". Even so, they both had been blindly walking through the bamboo forest with no idea where they were headed, and if they agreed on one thing was that it was sheer dumb luck that they were even going in the right direction. Xigbar seemed pleased.
"See?" he said, motioning to the village. "I am like, the God of Direction."
Xaldin snorted lightly. "More like the God of Dumb Luck," he replied, and set off. Xigbar hurried to catch up, and together they walked into town.
It was a quiet town in the sense that nothing interesting happened. Everyone knew one another, and it would be no surprise if most of them were related to each other in some way. It was a town of hard working people with real lives to sustain and real families to feed. That wasn't to say that the town was quiet in the sound sense and the daily activity. Sure, the monotonous, every day chore of feeding the animals was boring, but when children were running around screaming as they played, chickens scattered the streets in search for food, carts were wheeled down the narrow dirt streets while old men played mahjong for who would have to watch the kids next and accused one another every other move of cheating, the noise tended to build quite greatly. Not to mention the yelling from neighbor to neighbor, whether it was just a friendly hello or a dispute about whose rooster that was sitting on the house across from them, because they both swore theirs had a tail feather just like that. The men were rough, the women were plain, and the children were rambunctious and dirty.
"You know," Xaldin mused as the pair weaved through the streets, "it almost seems like you would belong in a place like this, Xigbar. Little kids at play, people fighting over ridiculous things, those old fellows we just passed would thrill in having another of their kind join the game…" Xigbar just gave a dismissive wave over his shoulder, continuing to walk along. The other continued, "On the other hand, you're so lazy that you'd probably just be disliked an--" He was cut off as the shorter man had stopped abruptly in front of him. The dread-locked man frowned slightly and peered over his companion.
"Well? Why have you stopped?"
Xigbar glanced up, paused, then turned his head up to look at Xaldin with a wide grin on his face.
"We're gonna stay here the night," he explained, motioning a hand to the building to his left. The Lancer stared down a moment at the one eyed man then over to the hotel, which actually didn't look too terribly shabby considering the state of the rest of the village. "Apparently, you're smarter than you look, Two." This was received with a small, indignant snort.
"You don't give me enough credit, Xaldin," Xigbar replied, sounding affronted. The Lancer smirked and gave his companion a quick noogie, to which the gunner responded unfavorably and chased the dreadlocked Nobody into the hotel.
Once inside, it was obvious to them that these people didn't get very many guests, but that a few of them recognized Xigbar. The bartender, in particular, was especially friendly.
"Gǔ chòu yòu!" the bartender called to him, waving the pair over to the bar. Xigbar cackled and flopped onto a stool, holding his fist out towards the bartender for him to punch the other's fist against. Xaldin sat down on the stool beside Xigbar, watching their exchange.
"Jangle hay! How's it been without yer bud around?" Xigbar asked, grinning. The bartender shook his head and wagged his finger.
"Gang hai," the bartender corrected, giving the Freeshooter a stern look. There was a moment of hesitation, and Xaldin almost thought the pair would start into a fight. But suddenly laughter broke out between them and they acted like old chums once more.
"Gangle, this's my buddy Xaldin," Xigbar introduced, still grinning cheerily. "He'll be payin' for all the drinks this evenin'."
Xaldin stared. "…pardon?"
"What, you don't actually think I have munny on me, do you?" the gunner snorted. "How long have you known me, dude?"
A sigh. "Apparently too long, Xigbar."
A laugh, and Xigbar slammed his fist down on the counter enthusiastically.
"Gimme two quarts of the strongest stuff you have, Jangle!" said Xigbar.
"Shēng?" asked Gang Hai.
"Sure, whatever dude," replied Xigbar with a wave of his hand.
The drinks arriving was the last thing that Xaldin remembered of that night.
Gǔ chòu yòu - Old skunk
Shēng- Quart
--
He felt warm, and he felt comfortable, and he really didn't want to wake up. But something was disrupting his pleasant slumber. Loud banging, heavy solid against even heavier solid, and the angry yelling that accompanied it. Xaldin endured the din for just a little longer, before he opened his eyes and sat up with a groan. A brief glance at his surroundings told him that something was terribly wrong.
The first indication was that he had no idea where he was. Hadn't he been at the hotel? They'd stopped right there, and paid, and he remembered the barman having a friendly chat with his companion. This room was large, with high ceilings, red wooden poles and, off to the right, a large platform with a throne set in the center. Even the smell was different from the hotel.
The second and third indication came together. To start, he was naked. He'd noticed that as the furs he'd been sleeping in slipped down his bare torso. Glancing around the room, he noticed various articles of clothing strewn about. Next, which he had noticed by mistake, was that someone was asleep next to him, their back facing him and furs pulled over their head. He could see their steady breathing, body rising with every intake of air. Who was this? And where was Xigbar? And why was he here? Where was he? The Lancer groaned, his head pounding; the noise from outside was not helping his developing migraine.
He took a bunch of his dreadlocks up in his hands and tied one around the rest, pulling them from his face, before gathering a strip of the furs and wrapping it around his waist. It was then that he noticed something else that was very, very wrong here. He heard the noise before he saw what had made it; a muffled, desperate sound, like a cry for help deafened by a balled sock stuffed in their mouth. When Xaldin looked around one of the pillars, he realized just how close to the truth he was with that. Also, that he was completely naked in front of a frightened old man who was tied tightly to the wooden column and trying to squirm away. The Lancer stared, expression blank and slightly confused, then he turned away quickly and moved back to the bed of furs. The person that had been sleeping beside him was still there, and this time they were facing him, having turned over in their sleep to face the Whirlwind Lancer.
He could see that their shoulders were bare, and just assumed that the rest was naked as well. Their expression was that of contentment, the only thing marring their look of peaceful sleep being their destroyed right eye. Long strands of salt-and-pepper hair fell around their shoulders and over the rolled up furs beneath their head, pieces framing their rough, handsome, masculine face… Xaldin stared.
Well, now he knew where Xigbar was at least. There was a pause, a silence in the Lancer's brain, where he went deaf and blind simultaneously, then he was over taken by a certain twinge, an echo of a feeling, shadow of an emotion, a rip off of something genuine that he had felt many a time when it came to the gunner and his insane antics.
Rage.
"XIGBAR!" It came out as a shriek, his purple-blue eyes wide and fiery, furious adrenaline running through his veins. Xigbar was innocently waking from his sleep, sleepily bringing his hand up to rub the sleepers out of his good eye and lightly brush hair from his face as he pushed himself up.
"Whadsit?" he slurred, still partly asleep. The furs fell down to rest around his waist, just covering any vital areas, and showing off his muscular stomach and slim form. Xaldin stared a moment, eyes wandering, then growled and held the furs around his own waist a little higher.
"Where are we!?" demanded the dreadlocked Nobody, eyebrows furrowed, giving his already dangerous face an even sharper edge. His side burns bristled while he waited for the other to respond. After a few minutes, he thought that, perhaps, the gunner was still asleep, and there was even a moment where Xaldin thought Xigbar would simply fall over and go back to sleep. But, gradually, the Freeshooter began to regain his bearings, turning his head slowly to blearily look around the room. He blinked dumbly while his mind tried to process where he was.
Finally, he replied, "I 'unno, Xal. Mebajusta dream, shoul' go bacta sleep, s'prolly nothin'."
Xaldin growled, "This isn't a dream, you bloody imbecile!" Xigbar didn't seem to be paying attention, though. He was lifting the furs up off his hips some, peeking underneath them.
"Hey Xal," the second in command began, "why'ma naked?" He paused. "'N where're'm'clothes?"
"You dense bastard," the Lancer spat, "We're in some… some throne room, with a frightened old man tied to a pole, and you worry about your clothes." He winced. "And what is that blasted noise about?! I swear, if this is your fault, Xigbar, I'm skewering you…"
Then, it seemed to click. Xigbar perked up a little, and tried to snap his fingers, failed, tried again, and managed it.
"We were drinkin'! I 'member now. Shit faced t'all hell… And, uh…" He seemed to lose his train of thought, then continued to speak, "There'sa ol' dude tied t'a pole? Wha'see doin' there?" The capacity of Xigbar's mind astounded the dread locked Nobody with every day he spent in the other's presence. "Say, 'e wouldn' hav'a beard, would 'e?"
"Drinking," he began, shutting his eyes tightly as he felt his head throb; it wasn't just the noise that was causing his head to pound, now. "And yes, there is a man strapped down to one of the pillars over there and I do believe he has a beard, but that has nothing to do with our current predicament. We are in some unknown territory, for whatever reason, with no recollection of how or when we got here, and do stop groping me with your eye, Xigbar, it's unbecoming." The gunner frowned and let his gaze settle off to the side while he pulled the furs over himself more. "Furthermore, you twit--" But Xaldin was cut off as the banging and shouting became even louder than before and he heard the sound of splintering timber. Xigbar, obviously, heard it too, and groaned as he felt his own headache starting to develop.
"What IS that?" Now Xaldin was getting frustrated; that noise was definitely not good. Xigbar seemed to realize this as well. Actually, he had a sort of recognition on his face. The Whirlwind Lancer furrowed his brow. "What?"
Xigbar pursed his lips, making a small squeaking noise, before smacking them together. Xaldin watched and waited, tapping his bare foot a few times on the cold floor and pulling up the furs that were loosening from around his hips.
"Well," the gunner began, glancing to the side, casually looking around the room. "Does… kinda look f'miliar here… Old guy widda beard… Squinty eyes? Bald on top? Does kinda sound f'miliar…"
Xaldin stared.
"What are you saying, Xigbar?" the Lancer began dangerously. Xigbar scratched the back of his head a little.
"Weeell, I guess I'm saying… I could have been here before. Hard t'say, though, cause I was pretty drunk th'last time I was, y'know, here, so I don't really r'member…"
"Are you tired or still drunk?" the Lancer asked, watching the other with a frown. "You're slurring like your tongue is tied in a knot."
The skunk haired Nobody gave Xaldin a sleepy, disgruntled look.
"What d'you think, Xal?" he asked, seriously. He didn't give the other a chance to respond before he continued, "Anyway, I think this's the… uh… the place with th'king dude. Emperor?"
"The palace?
"Yeah, yeah. That."
"You think you've been here before?" Xaldin inquired, raising a brow. "How?"
Xigbar paused a moment, considering this, then glanced over at the Lancer, scratching the back of his head in an uncertain fashion. "I, uh, rec'gnize the… uh… the colors?"
Xaldin was silent. Xigbar quickly recovered, "Lemme see the old dude, 'n I'll know fer sure."
"Hm… Just don't scare him more than he already is, Xigbar," the third in command said, watching his companion getting to his feet. Finally, the Freeshooter stood, brushing hair from his face and fixing his eye patch a bit. He had neglected to grab some furs to cover his nether regions with. Xaldin stared for a moment, however he quickly snapped out of his daze and growled.
"I said don't scare him. Your naked ass isn't going to make him any calmer."
The gunner's lips formed a pout, brows furrowing slightly, and he crouches quickly and scooped up some furs, wrapping them around his hips.
"Happy now?" he grumbled. Xaldin eyed the man, saying, "Yes" but thinking "Not at all."
"Just over here then?" said Xigbar as he wandered passed the Whirlwind and peered around a column. A few poles down, a thin, elderly man sat on the floor tied down. He shivered and looked up to see Xigbar. His eyes widened somewhat and he tried to scramble away. The Freeshooter looked at the emperor with a curious expression then grinned lopsidedly and stepped out in front of the man.
"Heey. No need t'be afraid, dude," the Nobody tried to reassure, but the old man didn't seem to be consoled any by this. Xaldin stepped up beside his shorter superior, frowning at the emperor then turning his gaze on Xigbar, who was looking a bit confused.
"Xigbar, what did you do to him? He's terrified of you."
"Actually, I think he's even more scared now that you came over."
"Probably because I'm in the company of you," Xaldin replied. "Also, your furs are slipping. Pull them up; no need to disturb the man further."
Xigbar gave him a look then gave his furs a quick, deliberate yank up his waist, so they were up to the middle of his stomach.
"Better, Mister Decent?" the gunner asked. Xaldin rolled his eyes.
"No need to be childish," he replied.
Meanwhile, the source of the angry shouting had managed to break through the front doors and was heading down the hall, armed with pitchforks, torches, and long splintered pieces of the front doors, raised and waving in the air above them. Men mostly occupied the large mob. The middle of the crowd carried a long, heavy looking log, obviously being used as a battering ram. There were a few pieces of the door stuck on the tip.
They were approaching the throne room, where Xaldin and Xigbar had begun to argue.
"If you would have some sense of… of common sense, we wouldn't be here."
"Dude, if you didn't LIKE joining in drinkin' with me, we wouldn't be here."
"Don't pin the blame on me, Xigbar; do you even know how you act when you're drunk? It's abrasive and annoying and-- Your furs fell."
Xigbar brought them back up with a huff. "So, you can't resist a l'il peer pressure, Xald? Jeeze, you're more of a fuckin' wuss than I thought."
"Is that really the best rebuttal you can come up with, Xigbar?" Xaldin raised a brow, obviously unimpressed. Xigbar scowled.
"I'll show you a rebuttal, you--" But he was cut off as a loud bang echoed through the room; someone, well, something, was pounding on the doors to the throne room. The two Nobodies looked to the doors; they now realized that the yelling had become louder, and closer… and they wondered how in the world the din had gotten so near without them noticing.
"I think we ought to put our differences behind us," Xaldin began, a frown on his face as he watched the door shiver.
Xigbar backed up a bit. "Yeah."
"And we'll have a momentary truce," the Lancer continued, copying his companion's previous movements.
The Freeshooter went to go pick up their clothes. "Yeah."
"And we'll never talk of this to Xemnas, ever," the dreadlocked Nobody went on, hiking his furs up around his waist and moving quickly to snatch up a boot near a column.
The gunner didn't respond.
Xaldin looked up, only to see the skunk haired Nobody disappearing into a portal. With a small growl, the Whirlwind flicked his wrist to open a portal. However, as soon as he did, the doors came down and the crowd poured in. A pair of farmers hurried to the Emperor's side, beginning to untie him. The rest were looking around the trashed room, trying to find the perpetrators.
While they were searching, Xaldin had come out of the dark doorway into Xigbar's room, and was pleased to find that the other had, indeed, gone here, as he had expected. However, what he had not expected was a short, naked Freeshooter leaping on him and snogging the breath from his lungs.