Number of themes used: (x7). Members used: Vexen (x4), Axel (x4), Roxas (x4), Luxord (x3), Larxene (x3), Demyx (x4), Xigbar (x4), Saïx (x4), Marluxia (x4), Xaldin (x4), Zexion (x4), Xemnas (x4), Lexaeus (x4), Naminé (x1) Pairing(s): SaïxXemnas (one-sided, light slash)
A Little Extra
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Fifth Theme Set
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14. Smile
There are many different types of smiles in the castle of the World That Never Was. The original six of Ansem smile occasionally, the neophytes are more prone to the action, most likely from their age.
Xemnas smiles when the darkest of machinations begin to brew in his mind. The only other time is when he thinks about his precious Kingdom Hearts. He smiles only for himself or for his hearts, nothing else.
Xigbar claims he doesn't smile, but he does, almost as much as the neophytes in fact. He smiles whenever he wins a verbal battle, it is an arrogant expression of victory, but it is still a smile.
Xaldin's smile is the hardest to see, it is a small and nearly invisible upwards twitch of his lips. Even if he doesn't realize it, the simplicity of life amuses him enough to make him temporarily drop his facial guard.
Vexen's smiles creep up on him while he experiments on the unknown. He openly marvels about the problems he discovers the solutions of. Surprisingly he smiles at some of the jokes he hears despite his denial, that smile is where his heart was supposed to be.
Lexaeus has a kind smile, the sort a caretaker would have. His smiles are rare, but not unknown. He only smiles for those he believes need them and will fully understand the sincerity of them. It is another aspect of him that makes him the Organization's Silent Hero.
Zexion can mimic smiles easily. His real smiles are nuances of what should be amusement, but he does his best to hide them. Despite his cynical words, he can be shy when it comes to admitting his own pride. Every once in a while though, a truly bright smile manages to emerge from behind his stoic mask.
Saïx's smile is predatory most of the time. His smiles are twisted and sharp. He grins like the feral wolf that has just found the naive lamb even when no such prey is before him.
Axel limits his smiles to only one person. He smirks for everyone else. Not even he understands why he only offers his smiles to that one person, but it suits him.
Demyx smiles the most. Despite how many times he is so brutally shot down by the others, he continues to smile through it all. Some of the other members have come to believe that his face is stuck in such an expression. Apparently optimism was never considered a possibility for him.
Luxord's smiles are formal and filled with confidence. He claims to be saving his more charming smiles for the fairer sex. For what reason is unknown. But his poker face is always the same titled half-smirk.
Marluxia's smiles are usually grins of malice. He smiles when he knows he has the upper hand or if he is trying to hide his anger. His smirk only grows when he gets his little bird to sing for him. His smiles are a constant reminder to Naminé how possessive he is.
Larxene will wear a smile as the enemy cries for mercy. She'll wear a grin while they bleed helplessly on the floor. She'll smirk when she openly belittles her peers. Only the Dusks ever wonder who Larxene's single warm smile was intended for.
Roxas smiles the least of the neophytes. There are few people who are able to get cheerful smiles out of him. Those few are his sparse friends. Only one person is able to get a full smile from him. But that someone is not Axel.
The Organization has thirteen different smiles, each of them expressed for different reasons. But in the end it doesn't matter.
Real smiles can never come from someone who has no heart.
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64. Multitasking
Xigbar had entered the room with uproarious laughter that ceased the instant a deluge of paper crashed onto him. With more effort then he thought, he dug himself out of the pile, but only up to his waist. Sheets fluttering through the air came to rest at the ripples of documents pooling at his now exposed waist. Irritably he brushed off somehow shredded papers from his jacket; he couldn't wait to hear what the story was this time.
Xaldin looked over his shoulder to see Xigbar flustered by the deathtrap of pages that half-buried him. The lancer raised an eyebrow at him from his hunched position next to several nondescript and empty bookshelves. Casually Xaldin turned his attention back to the fallen book on the floor and tenderly picked it up and placed it onto the shelf.
Slowly Xaldin turned back to another fallen book and began to place them back onto their respective shelves.
The sound of shuffling pages and the occasional boot clicks were the only things that broke the silence of the room. Xaldin loyally continued at his task as Xigbar literally and figuratively wallowed in the multitudes of books that weighed down his legs.
The lancer finished one aisle and had begun working on the neighboring row before Xigbar scoffed and rested a chin exasperatingly on his palm. A bitter half-smirk emerged on his scarred face, "Gee Xaldin, ignore me will ya? What kinda friend are you?"
A mahogany book was placed in its rightful home. Xaldin titled his head at the shelf and shrugged his shoulders, "It's near impossible to ignore you. I am simply focusing on a task more important than idly conversing with you at the moment." The lancer turned and for a split second he gave a pointed stare at Xigbar before picking up another book off the floor. The sniper rolled his eye; books were better than talking with him? Since when did text outclass the single most badass sharpshooter in all of Radiant Garden? What did some bastard named Hemmingway have over him?
An arm clad in black reached up to the topmost shelf and a gloved hand lined it up with the end of the bookcase. "Oh and in case your ego is wondering, you can always console yourself with the fact that I don't like talking much."
Xigbar at first nodded in agreement then nearly leapt out of the pile in a flash of indignation. Unfortunately, a quickly forgotten but still existing factor was that his legs were being held fast to the ground by an exorbitant amount of books. As a result he gave his midsection an interesting twist that left him clawing in the direction of Xaldin as he gasped for air.
A few of the dislodged books flopped to the lower sectors of the pile and Xigbar cringed downwards once the pain in the lower sections of his body finally caught up to his brain. Open palms came to rest on the infernal buildup of books. Xigbar's mind ticked with displeasure, if only the books weren't there...
Strange spans of tranquility passed by as Xaldin finished another aisle of books and he worked his way to the third alignment of shelves. He heard the falling of books and assumed the sniper was still trying to extract himself from the pileup. In a way he almost pitied his comrade, but at the same he didn't (and for reasons other than the lack of a certain vital organ).
In the Castle That Never Was, there was an unspoken rule that implied that the books in the library were to be treated with the closest thing to 'love'. There was apparently another unspoken rule amongst the more lax members of the Organization, which was to disregard the previous rule.
Every other resident besides himself, Xemnas, Vexen, Lexaeus and Zexion, had utterly no respect for the proper placement of books. If the neophytes (plus Xigbar), didn't outright destroy the book they borrowed, then it would come back horribly damaged. Even if by some spectacular miracle a book actually made it back to the library, then it would be thrown blindly at a bookshelf it could have possibly originated from.
The books silently endured this long line of abuse, as did the senior members. But on one unchanging morning, the lancer found that "The Spy Who Came in From the Cold" had made a new home on the maroon carpet floor.
If could almost be said that Xaldin 'liked' that book. If could almost also be said that Xaldin felt like he was being too tolerant of the impudence of others. Regardless, he snapped.
Violent tempests roared through the rows of books and the books were scattered to the winds, but still within the confines of the library walls. By the time the lancer had thoroughly vented, the floor was completely covered with tousled books. Particularly the door which was now blocked by a towering mound of ripped pages and book covers.
And that was the story of how the pile had ended up on Xigbar's unknowing person.
The previous sounds of books falling had stopped. Xaldin assumed that the other had either finally "portal'd" out, as Xigbar called it, with the pile of books or he had stopped struggling against the coiling papers.
Assumptions were put to rest when a book spine stuck the back of his skull. The lancer motioned to rub the pain out but he stopped his hand partway.
Xigbar was most likely doing it for attention. The sniper had a tendency to act immature at times.
An aloof voice chimed in the air, "Come on, stop acting like an ass and help me outta this stack of stuff. I know you can hear me. Hey! Don't think that's the only book I'll chuck at you." Reassured by Xigbar's empty threat, Xaldin resumed his task.
Moments later he felt a strange movement in the air. Before Xaldin knew it, his favored lances materialized and dutifully minced up the book that had been hurled at him.
A fine confetti of what was once a non-fiction book rained through the air. Annoyed, Xaldin dispelled his lances and turned to where Xigbar was still rooted to the ground.
Xibgar wore a strained smile and he twirled his finger in the air. "If you can do your crazy lance thing, I'm sure you can multitask enough to talk to me."
Xaldin resisted the urge to roll his eyes and returned to his restacking. Carefully he picked up a book, this time from the pile that encased Xigbar. He tried to keep the amusement out of his response, "Alright I'll talk with you, but then I have to move this much slower."
The brunette moved sluggishly as he lifted up his foot to take a step forward. As the sloth-laced boot bottom was firmly planted on the ground he agonizingly began to take another slow step.
The lancer heard a peeved groan. "You suck."
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70. 67
Demyx pointed an enlightened finger happily in the air. "I think I figured you out!" The other blond tilted his head questioningly, but said nothing.
The musician quickly uncapped the blue marker sitting next to the board and drew a rough outline of the other blond on it. He carelessly tossed aside the used marker and picked up a red one. With as much dexterity as he could muster, he drew a line a little over the halfway point and abdomen of the sketchy diagram.
The other blond watched the water user color in the area below the line with red crosshatchings. Demyx tucked the uncapped red marker behind his ear after coloring in a satisfactory area.
Unabashedly he pointed to the diagram and then to the other blond. "See, this red stuff represents all the times you're happy." Demyx took up the marker from behind his ear and drew a somewhat unhappy face on the originally faceless person. "But, because its not higher, that's why you look so sad."
The other blond stared dismally at the diagram and then down onto his hands. Demyx's previous smile fell to a more sympathetic expression. "I-I didn't mean it that way! Don't worry about it Roxas!" Demyx waved his hands anxiously in front of the other blond as if to fan the sadness away.
Roxas looked up from his hands to Demyx, his face now blank. "Then what did you mean?"
The musician scratched the back of his head and laughed uneasily, "Uh well, you see...uhmmm..." He looked over his diagram with newfound shame.
Uneasily he wrote down a number to the side. Roxas read it out loud skeptically, "Sixty-seven? What is that, my 'happy level'?"
"Uh, yeah sure! OF COURSE!" Demyx turned back to the board to avoid the cynical glare Roxas was probably giving him. He'd actually meant to compare Roxas's expressions with Zexion's (6) and Saïx's (7), but any loophole for salvation suited him just fine.
With awkward, but renewed confidence, Demyx pointed his marker professionally at the diagram. "You're at 67 in terms of happiness, so keep doing whatever you've been doing since last week! I can see the change from that 64 of a couple days ago!" Demyx nodded his head up and down so frantically his brain seemed to hurt.
Roxas blinked at him, a shy smile creeping onto his face. "I see."
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75. Mirror
(slight slash)
A book dropped loudly to the ground. Out of habit his head turned up quickly, his eyes darting to the source of the noise. Saïx had been lazily reading about various constellations, but now he had something- someone more intriguing to look at.
Not surprisingly Xemnas was in the library as well. The both of them stared at the book, Xemnas more focused on it then Saïx was. It'd been the first time the berserker had ever seen the senior member skulking around for books. Usually the other already had the book in his hand and would be comfortably seated in his favorite chair in the open area.
Saïx looked from the sprawled form of the book back to the seemingly entranced Xemnas. Since when did the Superior drop his books? Was it an error or something else? A dark part purred in Saïx's mind, were there other things the Superior was clumsy at?
Silently, Xemnas bent down to pick up the book and placed it on the shelf that came up to his waist. Saïx merely blinked at the whole scene. Perhaps it was just a coincidence. Some books just had a mind of their own and fell off the shelves occasionally.
Xemnas's hand lingered on the book's spine momentarily before he pulled it away. Saïx wondered what it would be like if the Superior held him with such graceful hands... The berserker shook the ridiculous thought out of his head. Hormonal urges were reserved for the other neophytes.
Saïx continued to stare at Xemnas as the other man scanned the shelves. Skeptically and ruefully, Saïx returned to the words of his own book. He needed to clear his mind.
Near silent footsteps brought him out of his reading before he could even begin. Gladly, he turned his attention to Xemnas who was now standing next to him.
"How odd to see you here." Monotone as always, the Superior never did show much emotion.
Saïx clamped his book shut and tucked it quickly under his arm. It was rude to read while talking to someone one respects. "How typical to see you here. Do you need my assistance with something?" The berserker was looking directly at Xemnas, it was nothing out of the ordinary, one does not avert gaze when speaking.
An unusual glint appeared in Xemnas's eyes, and he turned away from Saïx's stare. Xemnas's thumb came to rest on the bottom of his chin as his eyes ran over the various shelves. Saïx tilted his head to the side. Something was...off about the Superior.
Xemnas's voice brought the blue haired man out of his thoughts. "Saïx, you've read many of the astrology books here correct?" The tanned man briefly regarded the other out of the corner of his eye.
Saïx nodded his head. Xemnas's eyes turned back to the shelves, "Which would you say is your favorite? I'm sure it is very interesting..." His gloved index finger tapped the side of his chin as his request trailed off.
The berserker's eyebrows furrowed a fraction. Saïx smiled toothily and he bowed to the other, "Oh, I'll show you where it is."
Xemnas trailed after Saïx as he was led deeper into the labyrinth-like aisles of the library. At the seemingly dimmest and darkest corner of the entire room, Saïx stopped in front of the shelves and reached into the rows of books. He pulled out a pale blue and relatively thin book from the range of azures and passed it to Xemnas.
Xemnas looked over the book in his hands and quietly admired it. Just as he was about to thank the lower ranked member, he felt strange skin against his own.
He didn't move from where he stood as Saïx pressed his pale lips to Xemnas's dark ones. There was nothing in it, no attempt to add any false warmth of endearment, simply an action, a slight pressure, and nothing more. He quietly felt something close to gratitude to the fact he didn't have a heart. Otherwise it would terrify him even more. Since when had Saïx thought or acted like that?
Saïx slowly pulled away, yellow eyes staring into golden orange ones. The blue haired man breathed out sharply, his expression returning to its usual dazed appearance. Xemnas stared slightly wide-eyed at him. The berserker started turning away to walk back, "Enjoy the book...whatever dark mirror you are."
Retreating boots clomped ever quieter away until there was nothing. Xemnas continued to stare at the place where Saïx had been standing. Slowly, threads of ebony began to unwind from his still form. The muscles of the black-clad body melted into a smaller and skinner build. Dark skin dissolved into a paler hue. Grey hair disintegrated into shorter strands that were a tinted blue color. Two orange irises vanished and only one light blue eye came to fill the empty space of one of them. The other eye could not be seen behind the new curtain of cool hair.
Zexion leaned heavily against the bookshelf behind him. His back slid down the frame of the shelves until his knees bent up to his chest and the book he was still clenching onto. Maintaining the disguise had taken its toll on him as did Saïx's bizarre actions.
The schemer took a deep breath before attempting to get back onto his feet. He'd gained new information about the eccentric other he wished he hadn't.
Apparently Saïx could be obsessed over something other than the moon.
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77. Test
Green eyes squinted behind protective goggles as they picked out the characteristics in front of them. On the table sat a near perfect orchid that was wallowing contently in a pale ceramic pot of soil. Vexen experimentally prodded one of the orchid's leaves. Nothing happened.
The scientist knew it was no ordinary houseplant; it had been extracted out of Marluxia's room after all. That juvenile prick's element was flowers of all things...whatever decided that deserves the Nobel Prize. Vexen shook away the quiet laughter that was beginning to grow in his throat. He scratched his chin as his free hand found its way to the unnaturally green leaves of the flower. Still, it's odd that it doesn't have a more responsive defense mechanism... Vexen's thoughts trailed off just as his eyes wandered over to some of his more dangerous lab equipment.
Moments later the scientist was carefully turning the tiny nozzle of the Bunsen burner. He carefully held a small blow torch cautiously close to the open flame of it. A sparking sound crinkled in the air and a blue flame danced to life from the mini torch's mouth. The burner was turned off and Vexen proceeded to inch the triangular fire of the torch to the glistening leaves of the flower. The scientist nervously licked his suddenly dry lips.
The fire touched the unmoving leaf of the flower and a silent shriek seemed to elicit from it and throughout the room.
A once meadow green leaf was now just a shriveling and blackened shell of its former glory. With an almost sad sigh, Vexen moved the goggles up from the bridge of his nose. "So it really is a normal plant...How anticlimactic." He proceeded to turn off the torch; enough oxygen had been wasted on that pitiful experiment. Having stowed the instrument away, his hand ghosted over the plant.
For a moment he thought he could hear strange cries still coming from the plant. Casually he shrugged his shoulders and picked up the horribly burnt plant to discard. No sooner had he taken a few steps to the waste bin did he hear strange and violent banging on his door.
Before he knew it, Number Eleven had broken through the unlocked door and Vexen found himself pressed painfully up against one of the walls.
Blazing blue eyes bore into tired and somewhat surprised green ones. "What the hell were you thinking?!" Before the scientist could even open his mouth to respond, he felt his back being slammed forcefully into the cold wall again. The vials in the shelves overhead cried quiet clinks as they shook from the sudden action. Marluxia leaned dangerously forward and hissed at the older man, "If you say it was for some goddamn experiment, I will kill you."
Vexen blinked at the other, his voice was devoid of anger, but spoken slowly as if to a child. "It was only a test." How typical for neophytes to act as if they had emotions. Yet they don't even have enough sense to show any respect, pathetic.
Marluxia said nothing. Surprisingly, Vexen's previously dangling feet were now back on the lab's pristine floor. Ruefully he rubbed out the pain in his shoulders. The other man had turned on his heel and was storming out of the room.
The brunette stopped in front of the door that was still hanging open from being torn open previously. His hand held the knob lightly, but his tone was harsh and threatening, "Enjoy your petty science games while you can old man, it will be one of your last."
The door was slammed loudly. The blond shook his head to get the reverberating echoes to cease. How interesting.
Vexen's hand once again curled over the bottom of his chin, his eyes widening slightly at a newfound revelation. So Marluxia was not as egotistically impervious as he seemed.
A skewed crescent formed over where his gloved fingers were curled, "I simply must conduct more tests to confirm this."
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85. Spiral
All members were accounted for and seated in the meeting room. Xemnas was talking at the front of the room as usual; occasionally he would gesture with his hand or momentarily raise his voice. The meetings had become a daily routine given how each passing day seemed to bring about new subjects that had to be announced to the Organization as a whole.
"...and that is why Dusks are not meant to attempt to use plungers within the vicinity of any other member, especially me." Xemnas opened his eyes upon finishing his near interminable and lecture like monologue. Not much to his non-existent sense of surprise, the other members looked in every degree bored out of their minds. Internally the Superior rolled his eyes before purposefully coughing into his hand.
The other snapped to their respective attention. Xemnas took a habitual breath before beginning a new topic of interest. Somehow he managed to sound more deadpan than normal, "For practical purposes, Vexen will be conducting a brief psychology test."
A chorus of anguished but hushed moans came from half of the members. Xemnas placed heavy hands on the ivory table and leaned forward to regard his seated peers. His golden eyes traveled to each of the younger members and they immediately ceased their protests, "Pay attention to him like you would to me if not more so." Only a nuance of emphasis was placed in the words but the fledgling members visibly stiffened at them.
Satisfied, Xemnas retook his seat as Vexen walked to the front of the table in his place. The scientist placed several unlabeled folders onto the table. The blond briefly brushed back his bangs as he began his explanation. "Yes, well as the Superior has said, this will be a rudimentary test of your thought processes and an assessment of your intellectual potential."
"So what, do we look at random splotches and describe 'em or something?"
Vexen reached out for the topmost folder and began to shuffle through the various sheets in it. "Why yes Axel, but it's actually just a simplified version of the Rorschach inkblot test. Anyway, when I show you the picture, say the first thing that comes to mind. Please speak clearly so I can hear you all."
"Wait, all of us?"
The scientist scoffed loudly and looked at Axel as he would have to a particularly stunted Dusk underling, "Well of course. I don't have the patience to test each of you individually."
The red head stared despite the blunt answer. Vexen paid no more heed to him and pulled out a card he felt was satisfactory. The blond clipped the card to the ever present board that sat at the front of the room next to Xemnas and he pointed dutifully at it.
"Traditional Mosquito repellent?" Axel looked blankly at the blots and scratched the side of his face in confusion. "The burn-y kind?" He added on hopelessly.
Xaldin grunted. "Tornado."
"Ornate sediment layers?" Lexaeus questioned hopefully.
Xigbar barked, "Retarded target?!"
Demyx's answer was oddly quieter than usual, "A seashell?"
Zexion looked from the blots to Vexen, "Hypnotism?"
"Cosmic formation." Saïx didn't look from the blots.
Luxord smiled from his seat. "Roulette."
"Barbed wire." Marluxia commented apathetically.
"Chain and rope." Larxene chuckled to herself and smirked.
"...Dizzy?" Roxas looked wide-eyed at the image. He had no idea what he was supposed to say.
Xemnas tapped the table and spared the blots a glace. "Vortex to Nothing," he muttered absently.
Vexen nodded slowly at the results. He folded his arms and began to contemplate possible meanings for their answers once the room became quiet again. Green eyes looked at the blots once more before looking back at the group. The others stared back at him mutely.
"You have such interesting responses...all I see is a spiral."
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95. Advertisement
It was another group meeting. The topic at hand was no stranger to the more common conversations, 'How to get our hearts back.'
Xemnas was motioning to the elaborate and text filled jargon on a large display board before a discrepancy of opinion broke out. Currently the senior members were in a heated and elaborate six-way debate with each other about how they would go about solving the problem of their missing hearts.
The six former apprentices were so wrapped up in their own affairs, that the other seven members were completely ignored since they had less knowledge about the subject matter. Given the new freedom, Axel had predictably scooted his chair over to chat with the ever shy Roxas. Marluxia, Luxord and unexpectedly, Larxene, were chatting amongst themselves about Russian Roulette. These migrations across the room had ultimately left Saïx and Demyx to themselves. Saïx happily zoned out and became lost in his own daydreams. Demyx on the other hand, looked miserably at the older six members.
The musician was actually acquainted with the older members more than the younger ones, specifically Vexen and Zexion. They were actually rather 'good' people once one looked past the cynical comments and condescending euphemisms.
At a loss for other activities to occupy himself, Demyx decided to try and follow the argument that Zexion and Vexen were so readily verbally assaulting the others for. 'Oh and once you wrench the hearts from the darkness you expect them to just MAGICALLY FOLLOW YOU?!'
Amidst the insults, Demyx came across his own light-hearted idea.
"Maybe we can put out an advertisement for hearts..."
Even though the water user had not spoken very loud, the other twelve had managed to hear it. Twelve pairs of eyes regarded him with shock. A majority of them also held a hint of something that affirmed their beliefs in the questionable intelligence of member Number Nine. Demyx shrunk back in his seat nervously as he braced himself for their rebukes.
Couldn't they take a joke?
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That was 'ok', little emo, little funny, little weird, and a little slash. It's like a salad of not-so-eloquent words! I have maintained the Demyx gets 'beaten over the head' tradition! Not many people replied to the other chapter, so I will assume the worst in that readers did not like it. Oh well. This time around, I think I got a bit more 'balance' in the prompts in terms of members. Bah, some members are much easier to write for than others. Feel free to guess some of the references. Also, to anyone trying to email me, I have changed my mail to an MSN one. I apologize.