Personifications: A Literal Exploration With Axel
It was such an innocent night, almost too innocent. As if the night itself was a personification that had wanted Axel to let his guard down, knowing full well how the events of its time lapse would play out.
Axel stood—correction, leaned on the railing separating the observation point that was the man-made cliff of cement from the pearly white sands below. The night was clear, as most were on Destiny Islands, the oh-so-familiar salt air rolling in with the never-ending ebb and flow of the tide. It filled Axel's nostrils, consequently clearing his mind and allowing it to think its first rational, unbiased thoughts that night—or morning, seeing as it was now one AM. Axel honestly didn't care what time I was, ungodly or otherwise, he finally felt comfortable, like himself.
Out here, at this state of daylight (or lack thereof) there was no one to scrutinize him but the stars, and they welcomed him, as always, with open arms and comforting twinkling smiles. Axel responded by scrutinizing them right back, taking the time as he did so to locate the major constellations present for that season. He caressed each one with his gaze, paying each celestial speck of dust—no matter how dim or bright, planet or otherwise—a small part of his learned attention. As per usual, the stars did not do a thing to object. The gentle whisper of the undertow not thirty feet away from him seemed to do nothing but encourage him; not that Axel needed encouraging.
In Axel's mind, he was synonymous with the stars, but of course, only the stars knew that. That being said, not a single soul that was of this green Earth was aware of Axel's intense fascination with the stars. Or the sky in general, but mostly it was stars that took his breath away. One would think a pyromaniac like himself would be far more interested in things of a more…combustible nature, such as fireworks or, at the very least, magnesium; hell, even volcanoes wouldn't be a stretch of the imaginations. But stars…
Well that was exactly it. As a result of his fascination with them, Axel knew everything about stars, including what they were made of: gas, one giant ball of flaming gas pulsing with activity and what, if one weren't careful, could almost be been mistaken as life. If one really stopped to think about it, stars were the ultimate pyromaniac's dream. But there was more to it than that, aside from being balls of fire millions of light years away from the planet, stars were like fire with a story. Imagine that, the enigma long thought to be one the four major elements, with a story. Axel had the Greeks and the Romans to thank for that. He loved the way he could glance up at the night sky and determine the plotable shapes the masses of fire made. If Axel was ever kidnapped somehow or taken somewhere remote and he was given no implication of the time and place, all he had to do was look up at the night sky and he'd have a general idea of where he was and least what season he was in within a few minutes.
"Clearly, you must be some kind of teenaged masochist, or something."
True, Axel was startled by the unfamiliar voice that unexpectedly wedged its way into the silence stretching out behind him. Truer still, Axel could practically taste the knowing smile that cradled and shaped the words. Despite this, Axel still managed to give a noncommittal shrug without breaking his gaze with the stars.
"Or something."
The foreign being came to stand beside him and mimic his eye-fucking session with the Milky Way. Axel didn't even have to look, he could feel and hear the energy emanating to the right of him.
"So, you decided to ditch precious adolescent sleep in favor of stargazing?" the way the mysterious figure (who Axel still hadn't attempted a glance at) said it, it was less of a question, more of a conjecture. In fact, Axel hardly thought it was directed at him at all, more of an observation that the stranger—definitely male—had made to himself. Despite this train of thought, Axel found himself responding all the same, however cryptically. He managed another one-shouldered shrug.
"Something like that, what's your excuse?" upon the transition of his reply to a question, Axel finally turned to regard his partner in insomnia. The second he did so, however, the part of his brain that actually wanted to keep a real and decently engaged, by teenaged standards, conversation proceeded to mentally slap himself. By comparison, the part of Axel's brain that thoroughly enjoyed any and all types of eye candy had just found its newest insatiable craving.
To say the kid was hot was not only an understatement, but it was so nondescript an adjective in comparison to the boy's actual looks, that the compliment would forever be referred to as an insult in Axel's mind.
And yes, Axel knew it was naïve. Axel knew it was cheesy. He sure as hell knew it was typical.
But all of a sudden, the stars didn't seem as beautiful anymore. In fact, the entire world paled in comparison to the stranger in front of him. Who, Axel only now realized, was looking at him with a slightly concerned look in those azure eyes of his. Axel dimly noted that they made the surrounding ocean—so often revered as being the clearest blue in the entire world—seem a pale grey. Those eyes, Axel thought, should be the eighth wonder of the world. Not some nondescript tide pool he'd grown up playing in that anyone with money could see. Because not everyone could see these eyes. Coupled with spiked, yet elegantly side-swept hair that Axel just knew had to not only be blonde, but a color of mid-afternoon gold that would put the sun's rays to shame; if the way it glowed in the moonlight was anything to go by.
Belatedly, Axel realized that he was staring and none too subtly, either. He blinked and shook his head slightly in an effort to clear it, reprimanding himself in his mind as he turned his head in the direction of the horizon in an effort to hide an embarrassed flush. When the beautiful stranger seemed satisfied by Axel's expression that he was in fact still among the living, he smirked coyly and graced Axel's once-casual question with an answer.
"Since when has insomnia ever needed an excuse?" he asked, raising a delicate eyebrow toward the heavens that Axel was so sure must be flushed with envy right about now, not that he would have noticed, "Last I checked, insomnia was a relentless bitch that liked to torment whatever unlucky suckers she chose on any given night with small, yet effective doses of the unfortunate disease she represents." The boy stated all this with a sarcastic sort of indignance. That, Axel might've been expecting; what he hadn't been expecting was a response that was so…well, deep.
He carefully masked his surprise, however, with a thoughtful tap of his forefinger to his bottom lip. His head once again directed toward the ocean as he honestly regarded the statement.
"Kind of like Queen Maab, if you think about it." he responded thoughtfully. Clearly, nothing was conventional about this boy, not a thing was even making an attempt at simplicity, so Axel figured he could procure the intelligently witty persona he usually hid from the undereducated scrutiny of his social life. He turned his head back to his companion in time to see the same eyebrow ascend his forehead further still.
"Shakespeare?" he quizzed, the question clearly asking for much more than a confirmation of the creator of the aforementioned fairy.
"You seem surprised." Axel prompted with mock accusation.
"A little," the boy admitted without a trace of guilt or apology in his voice, only pure honesty. "Though I can't say I'm disappointed." The coy smirk made a reappearance in tandem with the admission. Axel found the taste of the smirk to be infectious, as he matched it with his own version.
"Well, thank God for small favors."
The mysterious boy kept his gaze locked on Axel's, expression never wavering, "Amen."
Axel tilted his chin to the side, not breaking eye contact with his companion as his expression changed to one of mock reprimand, he tutted a little, "Ah but the insomnia still lingers, clearly no amount of praying can convince the good lord to set his aside his childish games in favor of appeasing his 'children'."
Axel nearly fell over the side of the railing at the reaction he elicited from the teen. In response to Axel's observation, said teen had thrown his gold-endowed head, allowing a truly angelic face to match wits with what Axel still believed was a jealous sky as some kind of heavenly melody managed to escape his lips. The melody, Axel realized, was laughter. And, oh, what a musical laugh it was. He wanted to record it and burn a CD of it. Axel didn't doubt that he could make millions outselling those sleep noise machines with one that omitted only a repertoire of laughs from this mysterious angel. Once again, Axel hid his awe with a knowing smirk. The laugh was short-lived, to be true. (Axel briefly noted that if it had been any longer, it would have been no different from a typical airheaded teenage girl who thought it was somehow so endearing to laugh at everything he said. It wasn't however. In Axel's opinion, it was anything but fake.) But to Axel, it had lasted nothing short of forever and he made sure to document that laugh to be reviewed at a later date.
"Well, you know what they say: a man plans, God laughs." Came the witty reply, still with traces of liquid laughter in his voice. That same laughter, Axel noticed, had been smelted into the amusement that was now reflected in the boy's eyes.
Axel gave him a pointed look, "Ah, touché." He conceded. He was met with a noncommittal shrug.
"I try." The entrancing teen trained his eyes on some nameless point out at sea, but not in a shy way, it was more enigmatic and pondering.
At that moment, the blunt and obnoxious side that was still Axel—despite his rarely tapped into intelligence—picked that moment to make itself known. Choosing to go about doing so with a rather blunt and uncalled for inquiry of: "Just who are you, anyway?"
The boy produced his first full grin of the night, revealing white teeth that glinted attractively in the moonlight, his eyes were alight with mischief—no, not quite mischief, although he supposed mischief could be a derivative of the word he was searching for.
"Mirth." The boy stated matter-of-factly. Ah, so that was the word Axel was looking for! But wait…
"Mirth?" he repeated, somewhat incredulously, "Is that your name?"
The boy (Mirth?) continued to smile his knowing smile. He shook his head, apprehending, like he was wordlessly correcting a small child who couldn't seem to grasp a simple concept.
"No silly," he chastised, the apprehending note still present, "you asked who I am, not what I'm called."
It was Axel's turn to raise an eyebrow "Is there a difference?"
The boy gave a small chuckle, more too himself, though, like he was laughing at some private joke. His eyes met Axel's with the gaze version of that laugh. "For people like me, there is."
Axel frowned a little, not really understanding. His expression, it seemed, did all the talking for him as the boy proceeded to answer it.
The stranger huffed a little indignantly, blowing a stray strand of hair out of his eyes as he did so. It was something Axel found so endearing; he nearly tackled the boy to the ground right then and there, but he forced himself to remember to weight of the conversation.
"For humans like you," he began explaining, rather cryptically, "your name and your 'who' are one and the same, while your 'what'—that is, in this case, human—is an entirely separate matter. For people like me, my 'what' and my 'who' are the same, while my name is the entirely separate matter." He paused; attempting to let what he knew was a decently confusing explanation sink in.
Axel scrunched up his nose slightly to the right, something he always did when he tried making sense of something. After a short while, he repeated what he had gathered based on the strange explanation.
"So, you're telling me that you're Mirth? As in a living, breathing personification of?" his suspicions were confirmed when the boy he was addressing smirked and nodded, pleased that he didn't have to launch into a long and complex explanation. The smirk fell, however, when a look of perception dawned on Axel's face.
"Wait," he began, wary, "please don't tell me you're a figment of my imagination, cause that would really, really suck if you were." The look on Axel's face was desperate, and the stranger couldn't help but give a complacent little laugh at Axel's expense, relieved that he wasn't opting to rationalize or accuse him of playing a joke.
"Don't worry, I'm as real as it gets." To prove his point, he gently laid a hand on Axel's cheek, all of a sudden swiftly pulling him into a very effective headlock before Axel even had time to react. Just as quickly as he had initiated it, the boy released Axel and turned to face him head on, resting his weight on one foot and crossing his arms as he regarded Axel—who was trying to regain his wits as best he could—with an amused smirk.
Axel decided it was pointless to try and pass his obvious disarray off with some kind of suave maneuver he was usually known for, it would only make him seem insecure and this boy seemed to have a weakness for the sincere. Instead, he settled for coughing weakly in his hand and rubbing his collar bone. "Damn, you've got one hell of a grip." He mused with slight contempt, but the good-natured grin on his face ruined the effect.
The boy only gave a satisfied smile, "You haven't seen my left hook."
Axel grinned and held up his hands in mock surrender, "Okay, I believe you…?" he trailed off, his mocking demeanor unraveling as he prompted the boy for his name.
Said boy gave a theatrical bow, with a flourish of his hand as he proceeded to announce in a mock dignified manner: "Mirth, the human personification of said noun, also referred to as delight, joy, and merriment etc. etc. etc." he paused to flash another coy smile and a knowing wink at Axel, "But you can call me Roxas." Before Axel could respond in any way (Roxas, what a pretty name; You're so beautiful Roxas; Do your eyes match your underwear, Roxas? Well, maybe not that last one) or even decipher the meaning behind that distracting wink, Roxas was giving him a pleased, yet pointed look, "And to whom do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, keeping up the formal façade.
Axel grinned and supplied a bow of his own sinking down to one knee before Roxas' feet, "Axel, the human who is not of any metaphor, but does have a love for them, at you service." He paused to take Roxas' hand before adding, "And the pleasure is all mine." He punctuated his last statement with a rather archaic kiss to the boy's hand.
Rather than blush or giggle at the gesture like Axel knew most girls and, yes, even some boys would, Roxas surprised him by opting to give him a deceptively lethal flick in the forehead, deftly connecting with the direct center. This caused Axel to jerk backward with a brief yelp, momentarily letting go of Roxas' hand.
"Ouch!" he exclaimed indignantly, rubbing his forehead.
Roxas rolled his eyes, the blasé smirk still in place, "Oh, come on, it wasn't that hard, I flicked you for Christ's sake."
Axel stood to regard Roxas with a smirk of his own, though he was still nursing his forehead, "You know, for the personification of mirth you seem pretty cynical."
Roxas only gave a challenging smirk, "Do I? Huh, I guess that would make sense, my mom is Irony, after all."
Axel quirked a brow, "Is she, now? Well that would explain a few things."
Both pairs of eyes intended to meet in a friendly, but challenging stare, but ended up getting embarrassingly lost in the others' eyes as a result. They stayed like that for some time, until Axel broke the silence.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're beautiful, Roxas?" Axel had meant it to be tender and endearing, and to make the moment last longer, if not intensify it. Instead, this seemed to be what broke the spell for Roxas.
With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Roxas huffed, once again blowing a strand of hair out of his eyes, an action Axel could get used to. "Don't even mention that insufferable jerk. I'd much rather not be described by him, thank you very much."
Axel blanched; his attempts at being flirtatious apparently backfired, and responded to Roxas' declaration with an intelligent, "huh?"
"Ugh, Riku, he's the personification of Beauty." Roxas rolled his eyes again, "Personification of Arrogance is more like it. I have no idea what my brother sees in him. And don't even get me started on Kairi, just because she's Perfection doesn't mea—
Roxas was cut off by a pair of warm lips invading the personal space of his own, not that he really minded, of course. He wasted no time in returning the kiss in full, his mind didn't even slow down to think cliché thoughts about the way Axel tasted or anything. Because honestly, it was just Axel. No Altoid or breath spray, no cigarette smoke or alcohol—just the plain and natural, uninhibited taste of human. Something Roxas wasn't met with very often when kissing, he could definitely see himself getting used to it.
Reluctantly, they pulled away from each other when the length of the kiss became too long for a first kiss. While Roxas was still attempting to clear his mind from the hazy post-kiss fog that surrounded his consciousness like he had taken some incredible hit from a bong, Axel wasted no time in continuing where he'd left off in the conversation.
"So, what should I refer to you as?" he asked in a low mummer, absently rubbing circles up and down Roxas' petite back.
Roxas shifted a little in Axel's arms so that he could look him in the eye, giving Axel the perfect view of what he would eventually come to know as Roxas' most sincere smile, the one that was actually a true smile and not a grin or a smirk. "My brother…" he said, almost wistfully.
Axel raised his brow after a moment, realizing that Roxas was talking about a sibling and not suggesting a title for Axel to refer to him by. "Oh?"
Roxas continued to stare meaningfully into Axel's biohazard eyes; they really were an entrancing shade of green. Roxas recalled himself thinking earlier that night how he had wished that a drop of Axel's iris would escape and fall onto Roxas' hand, and wondering if it would burn him or not. Realizing he was digressing, Roxas forced himself not to get distracted, no matter how intriguing Axel was. "Yeah my brother, you should call me by that metaphor." Axel continued to gaze meaningfully at Roxas, a gesture for him to continue. Roxas took a deep breath and widened the sappy smile on his face.
"His name is Sora; he's the personification of Love."
It was such an innocent night, almost too innocent. As if the night itself was a personification that had wanted Axel to let his guard down, knowing full well how the events of its time lapse would play out. But if you asked the night about it, she'd tell you that was a different story for a different time.
Ahem, wasn't that just SAPPY you guys? Yeah I had to do it, I needed some fluff, what can I say? Plus I LOVE AkuRoku
Anyway, I am hoping to getting around to updating Finding the Beat, but I could REALLY use some help from any of my potential readers, if you would kindly make your way over to my profile and vote in the poll it would help me crank the thing out WAY faster, because I have one of two ideas, and I'm not sure what order I want to put them in, so pwease vote? o.o
So of course I don't own Kingdom Hearts, Square Enix, you kill me, really you do *tear*
By ze way, if anyone actually reads this and cares: The first person to guess which Shakespearian play Queen Maab is from and which character brings her up (without looking it up! This should be easy anyways XD) will get any kind of KH oneshot their little heart desires, any pairing, genre, theme, crack or angst, you name it. Just to make it a little harder: you have to be able to vaguely understand the comparison I made, though it's probably not a very good one XD Happy Guessing!
So anyways, whatd you think? I really liked the way this one turned out, even if it is kind of weird XD lemme know what you think: Giselle the review button get lonely sometime *sad face*
Kisses,
~Vindi