Yes, I'm a Trekkie. I only like Star Trek for the ships, though.
DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING MENTIONED IN THIS STORY.
Just this story. Enjoy!
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Roxas placed a hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath to steady himself.
"Naminé, I'm sorry about what I said, and I hope you won't hold it over me," he exhaled. "I know I can't possibly know what your life was like, and I know my comment was stupid and rude."
"If you really meant that, then apology accepted," a familiarly melodic voice sang from behind him.
He whirled to see Naminé giving him that angelic slight smile of hers. "Well, that's a relief," he grinned back. "I don't want you as an enemy."
"Neither do I," she replied. "You, I mean."
"Roxas! Naminé! Get down here!"
"Coming, Sora!" Roxas called. "Wonder what they want…"
The first floor may have been a reception floor, but it also had a small conference room in the back. The room was well-furnished with a polished oak table and several elegantly carved chairs.
Sora, Kairi, Cloud, and Tifa were seated on one side of the table.
"Take a seat," the studio boss invited, gesturing at the six remaining.
The two blondes chose two chairs next to each other, opposite from Kairi and Cloud.
"Naminé, you said you're a runaway," Sora began.
"Yes?" the blonde replied. "And?"
"Do you have a place to stay?"
Naminé froze. She hadn't thought about that.
"N-no," she admitted, squeezing her cast tightly and looking down at her lap. "I-I didn't."
Kairi smiled. "Don't worry about it," she said. "Cloud and Tifa have agreed to let you live in their apartment."
The artist jerked her head up. "I—I can't take advantage of them like that!" she protested.
"Relax," Tifa chuckled. "We volunteered."
"We—all of us—heard about your life," Cloud added. "We felt that you need some time away from your father."
The world suddenly felt blurry and indistinct to Naminé as she fought to check her rising emotions. She'd never felt like anybody cared about her before this.
"You—you're—th-thank you," she choked, barely keeping in tears. "All of you. This…your offers to help me like this…"
"Also, you're a great artist," Kairi stated. "Roxas showed me your sketchbook and the drawings are incredible."
"We think you would also make a good concept artist," Sora said.
"A what?" Naminé asked.
"A concept artist is someone who visualizes and sketches the things the CGI artists bring to life," Roxas explained.
"You're—you're offering me a job, too?" By this point Naminé was beyond shock. First these people take her in, then they give her a home, and now…
"I take it you don't know what the word 'altruism' is?" Kairi inquired.
"I-I do," the blonde whispered. Tears of gratitude ran down her pale cheeks and she hugged herself to make sure this wasn't a dream.
This is real. These…these people…they want to help me.
A warm pair of arms wrapped themselves around her, then another, then another.
"Welcome to the team, Naminé," Roxas whispered into her ear.
She just hugged them back, unable to express herself in words.
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"So what's her handle gonna be?" Xion asked.
Roxas racked his brains for a moment.
Come on, imagination…
"Angel?" he answered.
"Really?" the brunette girl yawned. "I think that's too much of a compliment."
"Hey, mine was Roxy-Woxy. Yours is Doll."
"Yours and mine were appropriate. She is not an 'angel'."
"For the last time, she isn't a con artist!"
"Then what is she?"
"The daughter of Terra Xemnas!"
"Bullshit." But Xion's tone was shocked disbelief rather than mocking scorn.
"Not kidding," Roxas said in a deadpan tone. "You're the sixth person to know."
"Who was before me?"
"Me, Sora, Kairi, Cloud, and Tifa."
"Jesus fucking Christ," Xion muttered, sitting back. She brushed a raven bang out of her eyes. "I cannot believe my ears."
"I repeat, her last name is Xemnas."
"Bullshit," she said again.
Roxas sighed. "Believe what you will," he replied, waving a hand in the air. "But back to our discussion."
"How about…errrr…Witch?"
"What do you have against her, anyways?"
"We went over this!"
"I don't remember that we did," Roxas said flatly. "What might've passed for that was your fight with Naminé."
"Never mind, then," she spat, turning back to her computer.
"Shirayuki?"
"What does that mean?"
"Snow White. In Japanese."
There was no response.
"Doll, I'm not stupid. I know you hate her for some reason unknown to me, but you have to get over it. She's your coworker now."
"WHAT?" Xion's suddenly spinning around nearly made her fall off her chair.
"Sora offered her a job as a concept artist," Roxas responded.
"So we call her Yuki-onna then, and leave it at that?" Xion suggested.
She's letting this go way too easily.
"What's a yuki-onna?"
"A Japanese mythical creature. Yuki-onna is supposedly a beautiful snow witch that lures travelers to their doom."
"You really have it in for Naminé, do you?"
"What was your first clue, Woxy?" she replied sweetly.
"Yuki-onna, it is then, just to spite you."
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"You'll be working in here, the concept room."
The room was exactly like all the others, ten feet by ten feet, and had a collapsible table in the center. An easel was mounted in the far corner, and yet another computer, plus a strange machine, sat on the same end of the table.
"Pencils and paper are over in that bin," Kairi stated, pointing at a blue box below the table. "And that's it for the introduction. Any questions?"
"Will I have to color in my drawings?" Naminé asked.
"Well, once you finish it in pencil, you'll take it to Sora and he'll tell you if it's good. If so, then you color it in as he instructs."
"What do you want me to draw today?"
"A space battle. I would recommend using the images on that computer as an inspiration."
Kairi leaned over and jabbed at a small button on the bottom right corner of the monitor. An image of dozens of strange-looking ships firing gold and green beams at each other in flared to life. "So, any questions?"
Naminé recognized some of the grey-and-white ships as the sleek saucer-and-nacelle vessels like the one Roxas had been working on. Others, armored in a glossy bronze alloy, were shaped like rays, down to the majestically sweeping wings and long tails. Still others were green and almost organically curved and bent, with menacing auras.
"You want me to draw something like that?" Naminé asked, shocked. From her experience, anything on that scale would take months to complete.
"Not that big," Kairi smiled. "You'll use these vessels."
The auburn-haired woman clicked on a minimized folder. The data depot sprang up, revealing a multitude of sub-folders.
"Use at least three ships from each race," Kairi added. "For example, in Starfleet…"
The folder labeled 'Federation' had at least a dozen sub-sub-folders. Galaxy, Excelsior, Miranda, Prometheus, Intrepid…
"What if I can't find enough ships to fill in the quota?" Naminé inquired.
Kairi shrugged. "Then just say so. Or, you can search for more examples, if you want to."
"How did you know how to title all these ships?"
"I'm a Trekkie," she admitted. When she saw Naminé's quizzical expression, she added, "I'm a Star Trek fan."
"Oh."
"Never mind, you're too young to know what that is," Kairi chuckled. "Good luck!"
Naminé exhaled and sat down in the folding chair, pulling the bin open and extracting a random pencil. Then she pulled a sheet of paper out, pinning it beneath her cast. What should she start on first?
The folder labeled 'Galaxy' revealed a multitude of images—reference orthographics and effect shots. There was a cross-section revealing the innards of the vessel, called an 'Okudagram'.
She began on the saucer section, drawing a simple oval on the vast plain of the unused paper. A long rectangle formed the left nacelle and an oblong created the secondary hull.
The Galaxy-class starship reminded Naminé of a Persian cat perched on a dais; the saucer was the head and the nacelles were like the paws.
Checking the reference images was paramount to the drawing's accuracy, and as such Naminé would find herself looking at the screen from time to time, trying to incorporate the two-dimensional features into her angled view.
A loop of dark gray metal wrapped around the upper part of the saucer section, and there were what seemed like thousands of windows and running lights decorating the rim.
A large eye-like hole made up the prow of the bottom hull; it took her several minutes and the aid of the cross-section to get its depth correct.
Arrayed along the sides of the nacelles were luminescent azure lights. A scarlet light capped the forward end of either nacelle.
She didn't notice the intruder until she was leaning over her.
"AAAAAHHH!"
Xion smiled grimly. "Hi, Yuki-onna," she greeted.
"My name is—"
"That will be your nickname in this building," Xion interrupted. "Having one is a sign that you're one of us."
Naminé glared at Xion. "I know what a yuki-onna is."
"Good for you!"
"I am not a witch."
"Whatever, Yuki-onna," Xion sang as she sauntered out the door.
SLAM.
Don't cry…I can't cry, it'll make me look weak…
But the tears emerged regardless of her resolve and Naminé slipped into another memory.
…
Stella screamed and screamed as Xemnas did something horrible to her.
"Say my name!" Father thundered.
Little Naminé couldn't tear her eyes off that door, no matter what her mind ordered her body to do. She couldn't stop her ears from drinking up the crying and sobbing, couldn't stop her nose from smelling the iron tang of blood, couldn't stop her mind from imagining just what might be happening behind that door.
"Terra," Mother choked.
"LOUDER!"
"TER—GAAAAHHH!"
There was a thump and a crash.
SLAM.
Naminé's mother, normally so beautiful, so radiant, stood in the doorframe wild-eyed and disheveled. Blood poured from her numerous cuts and bruises and most eloquently down one of her legs.
"Naminé, run!" she shrieked. "RUN!"
Finally the little girl's muscles listened to the commands of her brain and she darted away just as Stella was dragged back into the master bedroom.
And the resumed screaming chased Naminé all the way back to her own bedroom.
…
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No comment on that last one. Mother******, Xemnas is a bastard.