A/N: I LIIIVE! -dodges any objects thrown at her- -is hit with a hate-bomb the size of texas- I'm so so so so so sorry I haven't been on here in forever and I didn't give you this as soon as I said I would, but I think I had good reasons... It took me a while to decide who I wanted to follow first here, so I hope we all enjoy (Myself included) I've been working on getting myself onto the lease for our apartment for a while now alongside applying for work (Need to feed my game addictions with SOMETHING, and being broke doesn't help much) so I thought I'd throw this out for everyone to enjoy and- hopefully- love. And thus we return to round TWO of our drama.
WARNING: If you don't like buttsecks, don't read. Terrets syndrome is a must here, and will be making many featured appearances; right alongside angst, drama, narcissism, Masochism, and much-possible music-bashing. includes the YAOI- for you kids reading this, you're doing yourself good... but it's probably not very OK with your 'rents; they might ground you... You have been warned.
Disclaimer: There was once a great struggle for the rights to a great power in the universe; on one side, a powerful and mighty warrior-author, on the other, the great corporation known as SQUEENIX. in the end, the great Author fell to the evil trickery of the Squeenix- known as... the COPYRIGHT! dun dun DUUUUUN. ...-cry-
In the car, do you remember?
Namine Rosaline was not as weak as she looked.
She prided herself on her knowledge of self-defense, judo, fencing, and her extensive experience in the study and affects of various types of household poisons; but what she practiced religiously was the act of being innocently happy. It was very rare for her to admit to fearing something, and yet she would openly admit to never, ever wanting to hear from her older half-brother.
Whenever Marluxia managed to drag himself to a phone and recall her phone number, it meant he had gotten himself into some form of trouble. Most recently, he had shown up unannounced on her doorstep, drunk and wavering. His speech had been heavily slurred and he had been wearing muddy and messy clothing that had taken forever to dry in her small dryer. But he had told her why he was drunk; and it had been a better reason than so many times before. His most recent love interest- no the love of his life (Marluxia's words, not Namine's own.)- had confessed to having fallen in love with someone else and broken off things.
So Namine was considerably tolerant of her half brother's situation, and allowed him to try and pull himself together on her couch.
For three weeks now, though, he had been lazing about, eating her food, making a mess, and rarely speaking except for random little bursts of his Drama-whore internal self coming out and whining and ranting. Needless to say, Namine was not a happy woman when she walked back into her apartment to see Marluxia still half-draped over her couch, still half-nude, and still eating her food. So one should understand the events that followed.
Marluxia flew to the ground over the coffee table, landing with an 'OOF' on the other side of the room as Namine turned away from the over-the-shoulder throw to begin gathering the blankets strewn over her couch, stripping away the pillow cases and bringing the bed garments to her own room, dumping them unceremoniously into the white net hamper in the corner with a sigh before returning to the Living room to see her half-brother glaring up at her and sloppily trying to rise to his feet. "What was that for? I didn't do anything!" Marluxia's arguments were lost on Namine as her eyebrow twitched mildly, a leisurely smile spreading across her face as she stepped toward her messy coffee table; gathering the dishes and bags left over from junk food binges.
Marluxia had made it to his feet by this point, and was now leaning against the far wall in a disgruntled, half-there way as he eyed his sister up and down for a few moments. "Well, you're in a mod." Unfortunately for dear Marluxia he had turned away to try and find his clothing and did not catch the stiffening of Namine's shoulders. His only clue that he had said the wrong thing- and that, indeed, she had heard this wrong thing was the instant his left shoe made connection with his right temple, throwing him off balance and sending him careening into the wall with shock. He received another such hint when the aforementioned shoe's mate came out of nowhere and pommeled his nose, connecting with a sickened crack and burst of blood; yes, that HAD broken something, he was pretty sure.
Stumbling blindly in pain, Marluxia backed himself into the wall once more, back pressed flush as his hand attempted to stem the flow of gushing blood appearing from his now broken nose. In the meantime, though, Namine had found his pants and shirt and had advanced on him. When the disoriented man's vision returned, his little half-sister stood before him, a sweet smile on her face that made his mind screech desperately for him to jump out the nearest window for escape. He had only a few seconds to register this before his black jeans and shirt made connection with his injured face, sending him into a howl of pain, clutching his nose and letting the clothing fall to his other hand.
Namine, still with her too-sweet smile in place turned and danced away from him, turning to pick up the remnants of a bag of chips and heading for her trash. "I don't care how heartbroken you are, if you don't pay me rent, you don't get to eat my food or make fun of me. Besides, you have to get back to Hollow Bastion, I'm sure your boss is wondering why you haven't been to work in so long- that is, if he's still your boss."
Marluxia sighed, letting his hand drop from his face and slipping his pants on a moment before following her. Reaching over the low bar top that extended her kitchen and dining room in the small apartment, he tore a few paper towels free from the roll that sat beside the stove and pressed them to his still flowing nose. "I'm pretty sure I qualify as unemployed; you should be kinder to the out-of-work, Nami." he muttered sadly, a pout forming on his pale, bloody face.
Namine turned, crossing her arms and leaning back against the sink, eyes inspecting her half-brother.
Marluxia was pretty tall, with pale skin and abs to kill for that he had never in his life had to work for and an ass to make most females jealous. Deep blue eyes that called some tint of turquoise at the edge of the iris complimented the heart-shaped, elegant face and long dulled pink hair in a very... Marluxia way. There was simply no other way to describe it. The man was pretty damn hot if she didn't take into account that he looked like he'd been hit by a truck after watching his puppy hang itself. "You look like shit that got laied by death and rolled over and had a baby."
Marluxia merely rolled his eyes at his sister's comment. He couldn't really expect that much from Namine in the way of kindness based on his own statement moments before and the past. They were always like this, the two of them. It wasn't like their family life had really been truly conducive to kindness between them, really. Their father had only had him as an accident with his mistress on the side when Luxord, Namine's elder brother, was one and had in fact not known of Marluxia's existence until Namine had been six, Luxord eight, and Marluxia seven. And even then, it had not been willingly that Marluxia had been taken in; his mother had merely shown up to Nami's birthday party, crashing all hell onto their Father's head and creating chaos when she left without him, saying he was his father's responsibility now. It had been a tense childhood, to say the least.
Namine sighed tacitly after a moment, her shoulders sagging as she eyed her brother wearily. "I know you're feeling like crap and everything, but you do need to stop moping around." Her voice had lost the scathing demeanor from before and for a moment, the siblings stared at one another placidly, each one thinking differing thoughts about the same thing.
Silently, Marluxia nodded, turning from his sibling's kitchen to grab up his small pack that lay in a heap near the same table he had been flying over moments before. "I'll catch the next train back to 'Bastion, Nam'...." His voice was controlled, somewhat drawn and quiet where he usually was teasing and sarcastic; Namine had a fleeting moment of worry- a moment where her maternal instinct screamed at her to make him lay back down and finally give a full explanation to her of why he was like this. But she let the thought go; Marluxia was an intelligent man, even if he never showed it, and he would have realized that whatever ass of a man had done this to him wasn't worth the tears and time he had spent on the matter.
So, instead, Namine watched quietly as her half-brother gathered his things quietly, tucking a fresh set of clothing under his arm and heading to her bathroom to shower. Seeing his retreating shoulders set firm, Namine told herself that she was doing the right thing; making him move on.
Zexion wasn't easily amused by sights of 'lost' teens wavering their way into his bar; especially not the kind who thought their ten-munny fake ID's would get them alcohol on his dime. So it was somewhat easy to understand that when a familiar bunch of these aforementioned kids strutted their way into his bar, accompanied by somewhat smug-looking parents, that he was agitated.
They sat themselves on his bar stools and the parents- there were three of them to the four teens, three of whom each propped themselves in their own way that said 'haha I won'- each ordered two drinks. It was understandable, therefore, that Zexion ignored them and- after asking for ID, of course- only brought three drinks.
Though he was expecting what came next, the manner in wich it came both astounded and angered him. One of the parents- a female with Long dark hair who seemed to have a deep fetish with belts and who seemed to be either the mother or the twin of the one girl, short of her deep red hair, who looked slightly apprehensive and was sitting just a smidgen farther than necessary- grabbed his wrist in a tight hold and gave off a smile that she probably thought was meant to charm him into submission but in which he was just angered that much more. "I think you forgot our other drinks."
Zexion wasn't one for physical contact; Demyx was the only one who could truly hug him, and even that was because he wouldn't listen when told no about the matter. Not even Zexion's brother would be allowed to get away from touching him without a stout glare and angry silence for the next few hours. So his reaction was, to a certain degree, explainable.
"I contain the right to serve whom I please in my establishment, madam." His tone was icy and his visible eye narrowed on the woman who hesitated just long enough for him to tug out of her grip. "And, it being illegal to supply minors with alcohol, I refuse to serve the drinks that will no doubt be passed off to them."
The woman huffed angrily and for a moment it seemed that the other people in the small group balked. The nervous twin-daughter of the woman seemed to pale slightly. "Do you know who I am?" She snapped, and Zexion had to sigh; No doubt this was going to get him nowhere.
"I don't know, and I don't really care if you're the governer of Destiny Islands here to give me a free vacation." he snapped, cutting her tirade short. "I'm a buisness owner, and I am exercising my right to withhold service. Now, if you have a problem with that; there's the door." At the last, Zexion pointed ferociously, a frown marring his face as the party froze entirely for a moment. Slowly, the woman rose, a huff at her lips as she grabbed her daughter's arm and headed for the door, muttering lowly about 'Stupid little bar boys who don't know their place.' Shortly after, the rest of the small party left and Zexion stared at the three untouched Oblivion's doorsteps that sat on his counter. A waste of perfectly good rum and cranberry juice. With a sigh, he downed one of them, turning to dump the other two down the bar's sink.
It was at this point his phone rang, and he found himself with an earful of Demyx's cheery voice.
Amazing how quickly his sour mood melted away, he mused as he listened to his employee's ranting. Employee, he stressed the title in his mind as Demyx came to a resounding halt and he realised he had been asked something. "I beg your pardon, Demyx, but what is it you want from me?"
There was a deep sigh from the other end a moment before the melodious voice rang through the line once more. "I think this guy's got something wrong with him; he's got a migraine and he says it feels like it's eating away at his brain and we gave him some medicine, but it's not helping, and...."
"Do you need my help?" Zexion cut off Demyx before the boy could panic anymore; because now that he was paying full attention, he could hear a slightly gravelly voice in the background, bemoaning his head, and a slight hint of desperation in Demyx's voice. He, however, forced the thought of the secondary aside, focusing instead on the matter at hand.
"That would be LOVELY! Thank you Zexy!" Zexion cringed at the nickname and sighed, muttering a farewell into the receiver before dropping it unceramoniously to the counter top. The bar was still mostly empty; only Vincent, one of the bar's original patron regulars, sat at one end of the bar.
"I take it your bar-boy's got a problem." Zexion nodded mutely at the other man's question and Vincent sighed, swigging down the rest of his Nocturne's Revenge and standing, turning without another word for the door. Zexion thanked whatever higher power there was that Vincent was a rather understanding individual, as the man carried a rather large pistol on him at all times and could have a fit to knock all fits if needed- he should know, he had seen Vincent take down his fare share of drunk, angry patrons when refused another drink from Demyx to not need a warning against disturbing the man.
Zexion shook his head from the thoughts, going to the door and locking it, flipping the small 'closed' sign into place and heading for his coat. He doubted this was going to be a good night, but Demyx had been around for so long it was normal to get a call for help like this. No doubt he was just dramatizing matters.
Demyx's apartment was six blocks away from Crecendo. Axel had gathered this fact sometime during the half an hour period when Demyx led them in circles, lost but not admitting it. He somehow managed to follow the hyper blonde's words as he showed the memory-less man around; here was the laundry mat, here was the travel agency, there was the little tea shop with the very good ice cream flavors, and there- no, over THERE- was the Liquor store that only bought one box of strawberry crumble ice cream sticks each month.
Axel found his head was slowly throbbing; the two tiny purple pills Sora had given him had dulled the gnawing ache at the back of his skull, but alas, it was returning now and it's teeth had gone from biting words to a mirthless scream. A part of him believed this was his punishment for something completely and utterly aweful he had done in a previous life; perhaps he had just been sucked up and pitched out by the river because he had fucked up so horribly, and to continue the punishment his head was now revolting against him?
Demyx's sudden halt made Axel ram into the blonde, one hand flying to his head as the sudden impact into the brick-pole of a male made him sway and caused the pain to groan angrily at him. The aforementioned pole-man looked at Axel worriedly for a few moments, reaching a hand out to steady him, but the world was beginning to get very angry and snappy, and the voice in the back of his head was screaming and ranting and raving for SOMETHING and Axel didn't know what it was, so when Demyx's voice pierced into his mind questioningly, Axel couldn't help but bite back with a blunt retort of "Feels like someones holding a screaming match in the back of my skull..."
It took only a few moments of Axel concentrating on trying to figure out what it was the fucking voice was screaming for, and suddenly Axel found himself in a small flat with differing shades of blue and silver everywhere and Demyx guiding him to sit on the couch. The boy was fluttering about him nervously, and Axel found the voice was becoming more annoyed and chippy at the blonde's actions, snapping violently every time Demyx's hands fluttered to check the bruise on his temple.
In a desperate attempt to appease the angry thing-voice in his head, Axel blocked out Demyx's words and closed his eyes against the fluid, worried motions the man was making around him. Vaguely, Axel thought he heard Demyx's worried voice carrying half a conversation, he heard himself groan in pain as he rested his head heavily on his knees, gently rolling his forehead on them to keep moving the angle of his head. It helped slightly, but the Voice was still there, pissed off as ever and beginning to use language a Sailor would blush over.
Somewhere between something that sounded a lot like the voice was cursing his mother to have some horrid Sexual Disease and the same voice telling it's opinion of Axel's manhood- that being that it was so small doctors had to question his sex- the aforementioned redhead vaguely registered Demyx's voice holding a one-sided conversation that sounded remarkably like someone begging like a puppy. For a moment, even the voice paused in it's tirade, questioning the mulleted man's sanity, but it was soon made clear that Demyx was not, in fact, insane- unstable, maybe, but not insane- as the man let the receiver of the phone he was holding drop into it's cradle with a dulled 'click' before turning back to Axel with what could either be described as frightened or worried eyes. At that moment, though, all Axel could concentrate on was the fact that the voice had gotten over it's momentary lapse at Demyx's supposed insanity and was now gnawing at the black wall of pain that held him back from the time before the hospital, and all the while muttering something about platypi, chain saws, and a rather painful sounding experience that Axel would rather not have been hearing about.
Blinded by pain, Axel did not notice Demyx pawing gently through his bag until suddenly the other man let out a sound that sounded something like a child that had just been given candy- "OH SHINY!"
The giddy tone in Demyx's voice made Axel's head shoot up and his eyes pin to the blonde man, who's cerulean eyes were pinned to the tips of his fingers that were before him, curled gently around.... The blue marble. It was glittering gently in the small amount of afternoon light that made it's way into the cool apartment, shining as though it contained the sun and yet twinkling like a star. For a moment, Axel felt the voice dulled by the color and he thought maybe that was what it had been screaming for, but then it becan cursing once more, gnawing away. With a muffled groan, Axel watched the world fall onto it's side, the couch pushing into his cheek, before realising he was the one who had fallen over and closing his eyes as the voice raged on.
Axel could hear Demyx shifting around, worriedly asking if he shouldn't have touched the little stone and trying to question if Axel was alright before a knock at the door distracted him. For a moment, Axel thought somehow in his punishment some higher power had taken pity on him and was going to allow him to die in his own misery on the couch alone, but then there was a rather cold hand pushing at his temple- prodding his bruise. With a howl of actual pain, Axel leaped back from the hand and stared, wide-eyed at the dark, silvery man who sat on Demyx's coffee table before him, one brow rising over dark aqua eyes. "A bit jumpy, aren't you?"
For one blinding moment, Axel had an image occur to him- himself flying across the gap between the two of them and throttling the smaller man- but he pushed it aside after realizing that he would probably be hurt more in the incident and settled down onto the couch, allowing his hand to travel back to his eyes, where he shielded himself from what light managed to leak into the small apartment. "The bruise on his temple is probably causing most of his pain; I expect that whatever medication they had him on to control it would have worn off by now. All we can really do is let him try and sleep it off." The stranger's voice was a cold, somewhat uncaring voice and Axel felt a great urge to piss him off; if only to see him ruffled, but before he could work up the energy to do so, there was a whimpering, simpering whine from beside the couch and Demyx's melodic voice whimpered out "But I don't want him to have to be hurting! Don't you have anything, Zexy?"
Axel found himself suddenly wracked with laughter- Zexy? Well, at least the man's mother had a sense of humor! There was a scoff and Axel felt himself hauled up by the front of his shirt and staring directly into the one visible eye of the man before him- who was also, conveniently, lifting the aforementioned red-head's now limp torso off the couch. Who'd have thought the shrimp was strong, Axel mused distantly, taking the murderous look in from the one eye and preparing to die- at least he wouldn't have to give dramatic speeches about missing so-and-so now... "Zexion. My name is Zexion. Do you have a problem with that... Axel?" The voice that had seemed distantly uninterested now held a tone of malice that spoke volumes of what would happen if given anything but an affirmative answer.
With a slight whimper, the voice in the back of Axel's head sputtered to a terrifying halt and Axel managed a nod before Zexion dropped him back to the couch, flicking Demyx's forehead and storming over to the large sliding window across the room. With an angry tug, he pulled it open and slipped over the sill to the fire least the voice was quiet now; and his head didn't hurt quite as much... even if it was because he was numb with shock.
Demyx let out a nervous laugh when Axel's gaze traveled back to his own. "D-don't mind Zexy... He's kinda nice once he gets to know you..." Axel only nodded; not believing for a second that Zexion could possess the capability for niceness in him. But his little piss-fit had shut the gnawing voice up, so Axel supposed the small, cold man couldn't be all bad. Especially since five minutes later he came back inside and offered to stay the night in the tiny loft so Demyx wouldn't have to worry about something going wrong- an offer that seemed to make Demyx go from happy to over-the-moon settings in .2 seconds.