Taking Orders from Nobody
(disclaimed)
I think this would be easier if I actually played days...
What is Days for? Is it for DS?
Either way—I think Daxter's plot will involve something with the absent silhouettes, because, spoiler alert, a portion of the members come back in 3D, so... maybe the absent bits are just waiting around for the heartless to be defeated or something?
I can't do anything too daring, because I'll have to bother to retcon it when KH III comes out, or even as we get more information about it, and the Kairi/Ienzo/Lea+Isa friendship angle, though justifiable, is fragile enough as is.
Chapter nine:
The Nobodies had a smell about them—a musty, stale smell, not like death, no, not like that. But a...an amalgamation of smells. Like clothes from a thrift shop—cigarette smoke and alcohol, bad takeout and fryer grease, sweat and oil, and every perfume and deodorant imaginable. A smell like that, and not their own. Axel smelled indistinguishable from Demyx, and Demyx smelled like Luxord, who smelled like Saix, who smelled like Xemnas. The fortress had a smell about it. It filled the place, got him turned around every time, because he could not just follow one person, and the walls looked the same where ever he went, so as much as he hated it, he took up permanent residence on Axel's shoulder.
It was good for him. Axel got to coach him on how to act like a properly new-born Nobody. Brief sentences. Short-term memory loss. A quiet disposition, things Daxter would never be able to fake if he tried, so he brushed it off, said things like, 'Oh—maybe I'm just the exception.' and 'Must be different for everybody' when someone other than Axel suggested he was a little... out of place for a heartless nobody.
But, thank the Precursors, they made a small black suit of clothes for him, and the clothes did make the Ostelle. It was a good, sturdy fabric, something clearly magical he had never encountered before, it did not take damage easily. He even suspected it was fire-proof, how else could Axel still have sleeves? It was all very loose-fitting, not tight to the wrist like Axel's was, not tailored like anyone else's to show off perfectly sculpted pectorals and to make everyone else wonder, how could people with out hearts be so vain? He wore no gloves and no boots, no shirt underneath, just the coat, a pair of loose pants, and soft underpants. He had no idea how much he had missed them until now! They just, lifted! And cradled! And—
"Axel, Tarxed—"
And he despised that name!
Axel turned abruptly. Daxter nearly fell off. The Flurry of Dancing Flames was not used to having a passenger. "Yes?"
Daxter turned his attention towards Xemnas, elevated slightly above them in what Daxter called, affectionately, the board room, the circular room where all meetings took place. For a moment, he looked around. All eight members were gathered, himself, Axel, Xemnas and Demyx, and a four others, Luxord, a bleach-blonde fellow with a very sharp beard and even sharper cheekbones, then Xaldin, a big man with long black hair wrapped into dreadlocks, with the exception of his side burns, Saix, a quiet fellow with blue hair and gold eyes that kept giving either him or Axel the eye—it was hard to tell, and honestly Daxter did not want to know, then Xigbar, a loud man, little grey in his hair that came from age, not what ever freaky thing had happened to Xemnas, and an eye patch, which must have made aiming his guns a little easier.
"I'm giving you the Hollow Bastion mission."
For a man that supposedly had no feeling, Axel sure did bristle. No one else seemed to notice it but him, or maybe Saix, who was just glaring at them. Daxter could feel Axel's shoulder clenching. He looked down. His right hand was in a fist. He straightened up, leaned back, tried to distance himself from Xemnas, from the very idea that he would have to go to that Hollow Bastion. He was so tense, "Fine."
He was not fine.
Everyone knew he was not fine.
Xemnas kept talking, "The heartless are weak in Hollow Bastion right now—the Nobodies we have sent are being eliminated more easily than before—but not by a Keyblade."
Keyblade...? Daxter could not remember that word, though he was positive he had heard it before. That was right. Tess had used one. She had said something before ditching him to go play hero. He wondered, for a moment, if she had made it somewhere, too.
"I want you to find out why, get rid of it, it if you can."
No one else was meant to hear it, "Recon is Xigbar's job."
Xemnas heard it, "I need Xigbar in Twilight Town, tracking down the one known as DiZ, and investigating a strong presence in that world. I need you to train Tarxed. You did so well with Roxas."
Axel cringed, turned away quickly, as if Xemnas had slapped him in the face. He looked at an empty chair, and said quietly, "Fine."
It was a little more true this time, but only because Axel had been whipped into submission. Daxter was stunned. He knew a low blow when he heard one. He looked back at Xemnas and he saw the slightest of smirks dancing over his lips. That had been a low blow. The lowest of low blows. That was cold, calculated. Daxter felt, no he knew, Xemnas had selected Axel for the Hollow Bastion mission to be cold, too. Roxas was just another rib to kick him in.
He looked at Axel—his expression was unreadable, but Daxter wanted to tell him not to take that kind of crap lying down. He hated riding around on the shoulder of the guy that got the shit missions, yes, but he had to focus on the more important thing; Axel was being treated like shit, and Daxter could not stand that. Despite not having any feelings, Axel seemed like a perfectly nice fellow, completely amicable and he had been nothing but helpful. Daxter did not know if there was a punishment for bringing someone who was not a Nobody into the Organization's stronghold, or introducing them into the ranks, but Axel could be putting what was left of his life at risk for him. And Xemnas had chose to make him the Organization's punching bag? No wonder he was he needed someone in his corner.
Why?
He felt he could cut the tension with a knife. Axel went back to thinking about... whatever he had been thinking about, but much, much more subdued this time, reflective. Luxord shuffled his cards nervously, Demyx played a subtle air sitar. Xemnas hounded Xaldin for a report, Xaldin coolly brushed him off and Daxter wondered how Xemnas ran such a tight ship if he could not care about anything—then he wondered why Siax was still glaring in Axel's direction. Eventually, Xemnas gave up on the report. How could Xaldin make it if he was being pestered, after all? The meeting was dismissed and everyone went their separate ways, dropping out of their high chairs and onto the floor.
That was another good thing about constantly being on Axel's shoulder. He could make the fatal drop. He could destroy his own ankles. Daxter would have none of it. Axel waited—Daxter shifted, felt the tense muscles under his paws and realized Axel had never un-bristled. He was still brooding.
Eventually, he huffed lightly, slapped his hands down on the arm rests, and dropped down to the floor. He said nothing to Daxter. Daxter said nothing to him. Axel was clearly waiting until he was sure no one was around. That did not take long. Jak, at best, measured about five eight, tops. Axel was easily six five—Daxter felt like he was riding around on a skyscraper. Axel was much taller than Jak would ever be, and he took long, impressive strides, boots falling against the floor lightly. He had very dainty steps for a tall man in combat boots.
He spoke. It was so quick, so unexpected, so quiet, that Daxter hardly registered it. "Hate Hollow Bastion."
He fumbled, "What—wha. Wh—Why?" he quickly corrected himself, "Can I ask why?"
Axel gave a heavy sigh through tight lips, and just took a few more long, lithe steps. Daxter waited patiently as he walked down the hallway to his room, because he had some packing up to do—he would need extra shirts or something, and Daxter supposed jumping into a corridor of darkness for some clean laundry was a waste of time. Then, he confessed, "When I said I only remembered liking frisbee—that was a lie. I'm sorry," he was not actually sorry, "But—information in a environment like this, it's on a need-to-know basis... And usually, no one needs to know."
Daxter was glad he was so close to Axel's mouth. If he had been on the floor, he would hardly be able to hear him, he spoke so quietly. "I'm not going to say I'm your only friend here. I'm not. You don't have any friends here. You have people you make the mistake of trusting. That's it."
He was venting. Daxter let him vent. "Okay."
"I'm from Hollow Bastion."
It settled in the air. That would make going there a little off putting. What if he was recognized? What then? How long had be been a Nobody? Ten years—he had said ten years, right? That would have made him just a kid, if Nobodies aged. That was long enough for them to assume he was dead, but Axel might still have parents there. He might have friends. He could have been well-known when he was somebody. Daxter would peg him as the local hot-headed trouble maker—he did see a little bit of himself in Axel. A little bit of Jak, too, sometimes. Axel may not have his name anymore, or even his own smell, but he still had a distinct personality. He even had emotions. He could not see them for himself, but Daxter could.
"Saix was from there, too."
Daxter kept quiet. That was some heavy shit, but Daxter sensed there was more. He had that 'there's more to this' look on his face. Jak used it all the time. But, when Jak used it it was unintentional and he really wanted to keep what ever it was under wraps. Daxter did not pester Axel. He deserved the same respect and patience Jak did.
"We used to be best friends."
Heavy shit just hit the fan.
"And can't help but feel like—I don't know. Just that I'm forgetting something. Something really important, but I just can't put my finger on it. It's like—I don't know."
"Maybe Saix remembers?"
"Saix doesn't remember."
Daxter could tell by his tone that Axel had never asked and he never wanted to ask. Daxter did not say anything about it. He would just play along, "Maybe it was family?"
"No—No I kind of remember them. Gosh, mom'll be steamed."
That was adorable. He was twenty five and he was worried about what his mother would think—maybe he had been a teenager before. Maybe Nobodies did age—how could they age with no heart? How could they even be? Right, right, that was all part of the problem. He'd been briefed.
"Friend, perhaps? It can't have just been you and the blue-haired glaremeister."
"I don't remember."
He answered too quickly. He had not even tried. Daxter wanted him to try. Maybe if he did, he would see he had a heart, somewhere in there. "So go, maybe you will. Maybe you'll be glad you did."
"I don't want to remember."
He seemed pretty set on that. "Okay—so just don't go."
Axel might have coughed—he also might have laughed bitterly. It was too quick for Daxter to notice.
"Tarxed, look—" Axel called him that when he thought someone was listening, which was all the time, "They'll turn me, turn us, into Dusks if I don't. I'm on thin ice as it is."
"Oh... " Daxter had seen the Dusks. They looked like sock puppets—if socks had zippers. But the impression remained. Scary-ass sock puppets. Completely effaced. He had no idea where they came from originally. He figured stronger people became nobodies, but that did not explain how the model-weight Axel and the clearly hard-hitting Saix both became Nobodies. He supposed they meant 'of a strong will' and yeah, Axel had one hell of a will. So he had just sort of assumed that Dusks and Creepers had slightly less stronger wills.
But if Axel could be turned into a Dusk...?
"Wait." Daxter gave his shoulder a little, ineffective, shake, "How many of those Dusks had identities!? I saw that room—there were thirteen members before—are the others all Dusks!? Is... Did Roxas become a Dusk?"
"Wha—? Who told you about Rox—?" He remembered, "Oh, right."
"Why are you still working for Xemnas if—!?"
"No. Tarxed, they're gone. When a Nobody is destroyed—that's it. They aren't there anymore."
That... Did not help. Daxter jumped down at considerable risk to himself, Axel was not the perfect jumping-down height like Jak was. "I'm sorry. That's a shame. But it's good to know, no hearts, it's not like you can't miss them, right?"
There was a little flicker, a little spark of a frown on Axel's long face. He did miss them. He missed Roxas. Daxter wanted to ask. He stared up at Axel for a moment, Axel stared back, then the Nobody seemed to realize that Daxter was not going to say anymore, and he turned on his heel and walked down the long hallway of bedrooms. Daxter doubted any of them really slept. Dreams were matters of the heart—and the Nobodies had no hearts. Still—they may need to rest, close the eyes and let the mind relax. Daxter went into his own room, hopped up on the way too-large bed and packed a small case, a few pairs of trousers, his second coat, and more soft underpants than he could ever possibly need. To squirrel it all away, he cast the spell from the one element allotted him—Mini—and tucked it all away in a pocket. The charm that allowed him to cast the spell dangled on his wrist. His weapon was supposed to be there, too—but he had not been given one, yet.
When the organization had first been founded by Xemnas and the other higher-ups, there had been very few elements between them, and they had decided that it would make more sense to have a few specialized members, each given a magic that suited their personality, and given all the same elements rather than a few with all magics that would only fall back on one, so Axel had been given fire, Demyx water, and Xalidn wind. There had been other members, with other elements, clearly gone now—Daxter wondered where the elements had gotten too, if he could be given them, though he had to admit, with his personality he would be more suited to electricity, or perhaps earth, or maybe they had something that could turn him into a dark, terrifying eight-foot tall feral beast.
The matter of his weapon was a more difficult one.
He had not been told what to do in regards to that, and he wondered how Axel would manage to train him if he had nothing to fight with. He hoped, he really, really hoped, that it did not involve throwing him right into danger and then expecting it to magically spring forth from his ass in a blaze of glory. He really, REALLY hoped.
When he gently pushed on the cold... what ever it was his door was made out of. It kind of felt like a plastic, but with the density and weight of metal. It was certainly not wood. The door knob was a foot and a half above his head. He had to leave it open a tad and he could not reach it. He would not humiliate himself by jumping for it every time he needed to leave the room. He poked his head out, his ears straining and swiveling in place, trying to hear any shred of whispering, maybe catch the dope on why Axel was getting the short end of the stick.
"Number fifteen."
Daxter nearly jumped fifteen feet. He swallowed a scream, straightened up, and focused on the speaker. He had no idea how he had manged to sneak on him, but he had. It was Saix. He did not like, or trust, Saix—mostly because he never did seem to stop glaring. He was fine from across the room, but once he got with in two feet of Daxter it became very not fine, and he gave him the shakes. Just, take the bad vibes Jak could give off on a particularly bad day, and increase it by some ludicrous number, but make him ten times better at hiding it—and you would know what it felt like to stand in front of Saix. Chilling was an under statement. He shrunk back nervously, then remembered that he was supposed to feel nothing, so he stepped forward, squared off against him, and said, "Fourteen."
"That's what I said. Number Fourteen."
That was not what he said.
Daxter let it go. He did not want to make Saix pissy if he could avoid it. He slouched back, folded his arms and waited. Clearly, Saix wanted something. Daxter got tired of waiting, "Need somethin'?"
"I need to caution you against trusting Axel too much."
"Oh?"
"I fear he may soon start to act on his own. Treason is taken very seriously in this Organization. If you have any doubts, express them to me."
He was asking Daxter to spy for him.
This place was more tangled than a cave-spider's web.
Daxter was not going to spy for him. That was out of the question. He was not about to let him know that, though. He knew how to play the game. He wondered if he would try to bargain with him, see if he could get him to spend the worse of his arsenal, or run a small smear campaign against Axel. He waited. Whatever he said, Daxter could take it. He had forgiven Jak for some pretty serious stuff. He reminded himself that Saix and Axel had once been friends, of Axel's own admission. He started to be a bit more interested—JUST how much could turning into a Nobody, living with out a heart for ten years, change a person?
"Axel has already killed two fellow members of the Organization—Vexen and Zexion."
Daxter did not flinch. He wanted too—but he did not. He clenched his paw onto a tiny fist. This was a plan. They wanted him out. Daxter burned inside. What was the point? They did not hate him. How could they with out hearts? But this was part of a plan. This was all one big planned thing against Axel. He probably had not even killed them, or he had been under orders. Were they trying to hound him out? Why? "I'm game—what do you want to know?"
"Axel is notorious for shirking his work." Saix continued, "He goes somewhere all the time, Tarxed—I suspect it is Hollow Bastion, but I could be mistaken. I need you to tell me where."
Daxter waited for anything else. Nothing else came. Saix gave him a curt nod and left him standing there. Just that? This was a test. He could get in to a greater fold, but Axel was a rung in the latter.
"Sucks for you." Daxter grumbled, "Axel's my friend."
He gave the empty air the finger, knocked softly on Axel's door. He did not answer. Daxter looked up at the door knob, then down at the floor—the distance was about the same. He knelt down, saw no boots on the floor. He listened again, and heard, from down the hall, "If you wanted the Colosseum mission you should have said something."
Silence.
It was Demyx. Daxter did not want to miss a word. He crawled along the floor to press his ear against the gap at the bottom of the door. The silence continued. He heard pacing, a bed caving. Axel must have decided to trust Demyx, Daxter wondered if he though it was a mistake now, or if he would come to think it later, "I don't like going to Hollow Bastion."
"But you went just the other to meet Sora with out complaining."
"No, I didn't."
"...Oh?" There was silence, "Now that I think about it, you were... strangely quiet."
"So, will you trade?"
"No." Demyx sounded sympathetic, at least, "No, if you didn't go before, Xemnas might know. He's offering you the chance to redeem yourself."
"Redeem myself!?"
"I suggest you take it. I have to go. Hercules isn't going to turn himself into a heartless, okay?"
"It'll be you next."
"Axel, no one's doing anything to you."
"Like the others—"
"Axel, you can't say things like that." His voice was quick, pleading, a little, "You're freaking me out."
"No—I don't know. Something's going on. There's something he's not telling us."
Demyx's voice was like a door stop, a judge's gavel, a final beat of music, "I have to go."
"Watch your back."
Daxter slipped away from the door, he expected it to open, for Demyx to walk out and nearly step on him. He heard a doorway to darkness opening, and Demyx must have gone through it, because he heard Axel sigh, then he took a few steps, opened the door, and look around. He looked pale, a little scared, as if he had known someone had been listening in. He saw Daxter.
"You heard that?"
"Yes."
He looked relieved. Daxter considered telling him about his brief interaction with Saix. The sooner that was in the open, the better. But then he considered something else; that could make Axel leave. If he left, they would have a free pass to kill him. If he stayed, he would know they wanted him out, and maybe they would find out why. More importantly, he would be alive. He would not tell him. Not yet. It could wait.
Daxter took a step closer. Axel was too tall to jump to his shoulder. He had to wait for permission to come aboard. He did not get permission. Axel sighed again, ran a hand through his hair, looked at his gloved palm. His chakrams dangled from a chain on his wrist, dormant and tiny. "Well—"
Well nothing. What ever idea he had, he did not follow up on it. He opened a corridor into the darkness. It was just a swirling, beckoning hole of blackness. Axel stood still for a moment, clearly waiting for Daxter to go first, while Daxter considered just staying behind—he was not a Nobody, and so Xemnas would have a hilariously hard time turning him into a Dusk.
He broke the ice, "So—ah, you're going after all?"
Axel shook his head, "Going to do one thing first."
"What?"
"—normally I save it for after, but—"
He did not finish that sentence. He just walked through the darkness and disappeared. That was a clear attempt to pique Daxter's interest. It was working.
Daxter knew the coping process a little better than most. He had seen plenty of mechanisms. Jak had stashed plenty of tricks up his sleeves to distract and beguile him into forgetting about the important things, like what ever trauma he had suffered. And he had seen them all work. He had never been too sharp, but his Ostelle's mind made him forget. Out of sight, out of mind.
He also knew how to screw it up a little better than most. He knew letting Axel do what ever he pleased would accomplish nothing. Letting Jak do as he pleased had not accomplished much, either. Still, he followed him into the darkness and into the betwixit—the real mind bender. Being inside it make him want to hurl. He raced through to catch up with Axel, who was walking through the light at the other end.
This light lead them to the top of a clock tower over looking a sprawling, rosy city that looked perfect and at its most natural in the evening light, though now it was mid morning. He was worried, only for a moment, that Axel was going to throw himself off rather than face his past. He breathed in deeply, put his hands on his hips, like the air made him a new man, and then beamed down at Daxter. "Wait there."
He seemed exited now. He vanished again, came back two seconds later with two blue, frozen treats on sticks. Ice cream. He was a man of strange priorities and many mysteries. He sat down on the ledge and tried to tempt him closer with one. Daxter leaned forward, but he was wary of the edge. It smelled... suspiciously salty. Daxter narrowed his eyes, eyed it, eyed Axel, and he said, "Roxas loved it."
Daxter knew then that his interest was painfully obvious, and that this was where Axel played hookie to.
"You paid for this?"
They did not exactly get paid, did they?
"Nah." Axel chuckled softly, "Roxas did. I just pop into the freezer and steal it."
Daxter sat down beside him, took one of the suspiciously salty treats from his hand, and gave it a little taste, "Ugh."
"Acquired taste, maybe?"
"That implies I'd want to acquire it!" he said. He took another taste. Salty and sweet. A terrible combination.
He took another taste.
An interesting combination.
And another.
A palatable combination.
He stopped, tongue halfway to the ice cream, "Tell me about Roxas."
I want Axel's mission in the Hollow Bastion to throw him right into the path of Kairi's Grandmother, who immediately recognizes him, invites him for lunch, and asks him if he's seen Kairi recently—but what if we find out in KH III she's dead!?