La Cité des Cloches

The Cathedral Square

~ To the bells of Notre Dame ~

~ To the big bells as loud as the thunder ~

~ To the little bells soft as a psalm ~

~ And some say the soul of the city's ~

~ The toll of the bells ~

~ The Bells of Notre Dame ~

The thunderous noise echoed out in the city square that rattled the windows of windows several city streets away. The vibrant and flamboyant shades of meadow greens, poppy flower yellows, flamingo pinks and royal regalia blues made the crowd clash together like splatter art on a canvas was a treat of the eyes. The mixing and blending together the ale stench burps, horns trumpetting to the melody of an unknown song and the clamorous laughter of the townspeople drowned the city with a cacophony of commotion. The towering jokesters on stilts juggling sharp knives, colored round pins and belching plumes of impressive fire into the air to the applause and enjoyment of the festival folk. The frivolous masks and decor were a sight unlike any other. Be it animal masks, exaggerated faces of people, to more abstract concepts like stars bursting and waves crashing in a storm sea, the ranges of the looks were hilarious coverings and terrifying vizards.

Xion's head ducked back into the alleyway when a short troop of guards marched by, their breastplates a shining silver clad over a leather vestment of a deep stormcloud gray. Their helms strapped under their chins and in their hands polearms of heavy steel and hard oak. The Organization member let her gloved hand rest against the wall as she dipped back in between the buildings. Trying to blend in as well as she can into the shadows.

The mission of the day was to recon a newly uninvolved world for the Organization, a world that she had never been to before. Due to Roxas currently being asleep for the foreseeable future, Xion had been tasked with picking up the slack left by her comatose comrade.

It was beginning to weigh on her considerably, the added responsibility was having her being sent out on missions every single day. It's been since Roxas' collapse while out on patrol with Xigbar that she had been out on missions every day since to maintain a proper schedule for the Organization. Kingdom Hearts still needed to be completed, worlds needed to be observed and patrolled, and heartless needed to be slain.

"Demyx," Xion began to speak, her hands anxiously rubbing over her knuckles to feel the padding of her gloves to ease her thoughts. One of the most important rules when out on these scouting missions is to not be noticed by the locals. And a rambunctious festival full of drink and merriment in the center of the lively city, where it felt like every single soul was in attendance, was certainly not an ideal way to attempt to stay hidden and out of sight. There were far too many eyes, way too many opportunities to be noticed and to be seen. She couldn't mess up now, not with so much riding on her. She wouldn't be turned into a Dusk, a nothing shell servant. She wouldn't dare be changed when she still has so much to offer. "I think we should RTC. There's too many people here. We could get caught."
"Listen here, shortstuff," Demyx pulled a cerulean cloak off of a currently unconscious drunkard, whose tankard of ale rested on his rotund stomach that rose and fell to the labored snores of the snoozing bum. The dark blonde hair of the Melodious Nocturne, was raked by sitar stung fingertips to pull the bangs that framed along his face and hung across his forehead to lay flat against the top of his head. He slipped the mask of a pristine white Comedy style face, with high bulbous rosy cheeks and deep blue painted lips that were in a permanently fixed smile and topped with a wrinkled forehead. Demyx's shaved temples on the side of his head and his long and messy mullet were hidden and tucked respectively under the hood of the newly apprehended cloak, the Sitar player's hands splayed out as he summoned his instrument into his hands.

With three sharp pointed heads, a thin azure colored neck that curved into a wide body that deepened into an ultramarine color as it reaches the bottom of the body's bend. The shape of the instrument mimicked the Organization's moniker, with its three points, narrow body, and wide rounded bottom. Demyx strums a few absent minded notes as he walks to the mouth of the alleyway. Xion's eyes go wide as Demyx hums to the appropriate pitch of the note being strung. Tuning the instrument as he needed for the desire sound. "This is an opportunity for me to play my music freely without some killjoy like that blonde witch asking if I take suggestions and then suggesting that I stop playing. So, do me a favor, and shut your face."

"But, Demyx-" Xion begins to speak out only for Demyx to wave off the concerns of the younger, and in his opinion, more irritating member of the Organization. With a flick of the wrist and turning of a nose, Demyx begins to play his instrument. He sashays out into the crowd, easily blending into the migrating crowd as he continues to play his sitar and hum. "Demyx!"

"I can't hear you! Unless you have a request for me to play a diddy, stay in your lane! Au revoir, Fourteen! Au revoir!" Demyx shouts, soon vanishing in the crowd, only the strums of his sitar being heard for a few moments before soon being lost amongst the rest of the instruments and their tunes.

Xion grumbles to herself in frustration, glancing around and trying to find a similar cloak and mask set up. She was going to RTC, but this mission would be heralded a success by the time she returned to base. Even if she has to compete against Demyx's laziness to get it done. It would be a Herculean feat, a task like that seemed to be.

She had found a wide cape of hastily sewn together squares making for a checkerboard style look with each square a different color and pattern folded on a barrel behind her. While the fleur-de-lis were sewn into every square, one square held the symbol in gold with zig zagging whites and reds behind it, another was blue with white thunderbolts sewn along the edges. So on and so forth. Giving the fabric an eye catching effect. It was too loud and abrasive in color for her, but at least it would be familiar to the crowd. Enough for her to blend in.

Xion tied the shawl around her shoulders and neck, draping it over her Organization leather coat and grabbing a hold of a discarded mask off of the floor. Taking hold of the strap and slipping it over her face. Making sure it fit tightly on her face before walking out into the crowd.

The masquerade mask was a mid wing flap butterfly, with the wing veins black with accented oranges, the forewings pulled out into sharp tips that held shades of vanilla with wisps of blue stripes along the wing cells. The hindwings were, in opposite of the white, a deep ebony with reflected red stripes moving concurrently with the blues painted above.

Xion dipped into the crowd, feeling her chest compress and her hands begin to tighten and lock at her sides. The noise all blended together, ringing in her ears. The bodies around her knocked and crashed into her small body, nearly knocking her off of her feet and into the grime of the street. She could feel as if every hand that passed her dragged their nails across her body, every breath in her direction would have felt the same down running down her neck, every obscene and thundering word she heard felt as though it was meant specifically for her. It was overwhelming.

Xion, her breathing beginning to get more erratic than hastily beaten percussion and was shallow enough to make her lightheaded, quickly darted off into a nearby tent. She had to get out of the street immediately, she needed to get someplace quiet and alone. She threw back a tent flap and smashed into the back of a hunched over body, hearing them grunt as her knee got slammed into their shoulder. Nearly knocking them off onto their side.

"Hey! Come on! Watch it!" The voice shouted, rising to their feet and glaring at her. Their familiar horizon colored eyes meeting her sweet sea blues, his silver locks pulled back into a loose ponytail as he holds the edges of a mask with a broken bind in his hands. Xion's stomach drops, her hands clapping over her mouth. She didn't know how it was possible, or why she found the same tent, or even if she was imagining this, but had wandered into the tent that a recently arrived Kuro had snuck into.

Kuro, as opposed to his typical jacket and jean attire, was now a crimson tailcoat, with gray trim and a white dress shirt underneath. His typical boots were not steel toe military style footwear, but instead rose up to his midcalf, with buckles and straps along the side that shined a bright silver. His once very large dark jeans now have a pair of breeches with black and red stripes running vertically along his length. The Heartless huffs in response to the silence, his sights returning to the busted mask in his hands. He lets out a low growl, tightening his hold on the mask. So irritated he nearly snapped the wood in twain. He lets his hands fall to his side, the mask knocking against his waist before he rolls out a defeated sigh. "Sorry, I'm a little frustrated. This damn thing broke when I… stumbled around trying to get in here and I can't seem to fix it. The leather is so… Goddamn it."

Kuro thrashes his hand about, the wooden mask knocking against his knee. Xion's eyes dart to the mask, of which Kuro then properly shows the broken strapped mask's face to Xion, who recognizes the shape as a goat. With the upper edges of the wooden mask as opposed to the more prevalent papier-mache such as the one she was wearing, with the mask continuing past the edge to swirl and curl into carved horns. The eye holes the upper portion of the animal's own eyes, with the nose guard and mouth covered with the bridge and jagged front teeth of a typical goat skull. It was demonic, the whole deal. With the deeper carves painted swiftly with brushes of red, as if the mask were splitting and bleeding along the clefts along the surface.

The strap broke in the most inconvenient place, Xion had noticed upon closer inspection. Having ripped along the edges and found just at the notch behind where the buckle was seated currently, making it impossible to reattach without losing said buckle and fixing the mask all together with a new leather strap.

Kuro shrugged with discontent, walking over to a nearby stool and taking a seat. He glances out between the small edges of the flaps, seeing the condensed crowd still shuffling along in opposing directions and going every which way. The sight of the shuffling was nauseating, too many people in such a tiny place, Kuro offered half a smile, nudging his chin to the covering leading back outside.

"Avoiding the crowd?" Kuro inquired, Xion's head bobbing up and down rapidly in response. She cleared her throat, her voice forcibly dropping to mask her natural voice, although sounding like a gorilla with a coughing fit. Xion lifts her shoulders up, gnashing her teeth together as she looks over at Kuro. "I get it. There are a lot of people outside."

"You know," Xion's voice came out with an awful hoarse, harsh sound. It sounded as though it were a painful voice to start, much less to keep up. "I think there's too many people here."

"I don't know if I would say that. Sure there's a lot of noise and it's hard to keep track of things but to be around people? To celebrate and have fun? Wouldn't trade that for anything…" Kuro mumbled with a grin and a nod, inspecting the mask in his hands pensively. "Isn't it fun?"

"I suppose it can be fun…" Xion suggested with a shrug and her cape cover arms crossing over one another. Giving her the look of her having thick burly shoulders and powerful limbs on such a short and quaint frame. "If you enjoy that sort of thing."

"There's nothing like this back home for me… so… I gotta enjoy it when I can." Kuro thought about the silence and the dark of Traverse Town, how much of a far cry it was from the commotion just outside the tent. Kuro recalled the way he would replay his records over and over again just so he could hear something. Anything that wasn't the nothing outside of his cottage's doors. Something that would never happen again. If helping AVALANCHE was his way to keep the lights on and stay around people, then it is what he would do. Kuro shook the mask in his hand with an insincere thought before tossing it aside. Letting it knock against the floor and bounce once before resting, face up and staring into the ceiling. Kuro stood up, towering over the smaller hooded figure, offering a warm smile to her. "So, I was rude. What's your name, stranger?"

"My name? Oh, I have a name. And it's a good one, too." Xion said with a deep intonation, measuring out her words to continue her fake baritone voice. Kuro's eyes squinted as a quick chuckle slips out. Making his shoulders bounce.

"Can't wait to hear it." Kuro said briefly, patiently waiting for this stranger to give him their name. Xion's eyes glanced around the tent, biting her lip before mumbling gently under her breath.

"Noi-Nope. Xi-no. Onix? Onyx? Onyx." Xion's chin rose, her eyes half-lidded with a pleased smile gracing her face. "My name is Onyx."

"Onyx?" Kuro said, wondering at which number that the stranger named Onyx decided to stop their drinking today. With how terrible they were trying to play up their voice to sounds deeper than it was, Kuro would guess in the low double digits. Kuro extended a hand bending his head down to her level. His warm stare meeting hers "Well, my name's Kuro. Nice to meet you."

Xion looked at the hand in question, nodding at it with a bewildering expression, before wrapping her hand up in her shawl and giving the Heartless a firm shake of the hand. The tightly bound sewn hand is held Kuro's eyes squinting with curiosity as he gives a shrug and walks over to the tent flaps. Xion, her eyes softening at the sight of him leaving, her lip being bitten as she didn't want to lose sight of him. Frantically, she searches for a way to keep him close by. That's when she sees the mask he tossed aside. She grabbed it, rushing to his side.

"Wait!" Xion called out, grabbing him by the wrist and holding him tightly. Kuro's gaze darted towards her with a bewildered expression, Xion's breath catching in her throat. She turned to the mask in her free hand, before showing it to him. "Let me see if I can get this on."

Kuro glanced at a nearby crate, giving her a nonchalant shrug before going over and sitting down. Giving her an easier access to the back of his head as he waited for her to continue. Xion stood behind him, her hands hovering around the crown of his head, pensively staring at his curling silver hair. There is a phantom sensation that numbs her fingertips for a brief moment, as if she had just recalled a dream and her hand responded in turn. As if she had done this before many times, but she couldn't have. She's never been this close to anyone.

Her hand gently reaches out to steady his stance, her fingertips skimming across the top of his head.

The first contact gets a jolt from Kuro, who shifts swiftly at the sensation of the hand. Xion, upon seeing his bold shoulders tense at the feeling, feels her lips begin to purse together as she curses gently under her breath. She, very gently, combs her fingers through his locks. The first stroke was hard, applying too much pressure to the tips of her digits and Kuro groans at the way her hand drags along his skull. Her fingers were anchors, tearing through earth trying to find solid ground as her hand was an in motion barge.

Seeing him not enjoying the feeling, she went for a different angle. Then, she moved to the rhythm that Kuro's body told her to. If his shoulders tensed, she was too hard and she eased her strength. His breathing was sharp and slowed her speed accordingly. When he started to gently hum, his easy breathing raising his chest and shoulders in a soothing way, it was an achievement. It made Xion's lips break into a soft smile. Knowing she could bring such comfort to him. Kuro's eyes rolled over as he relaxed, his breathing rattling his chest and easing the tension in his body. It reminded him of that night before Kairi disappeared, when she took his head into lap and she traced her fingertips through his hair. He swore he felt his head begin to dip back, leaning into her touch. Wanting more. As he felt his neck get too loose and relaxed, he tensed his hands and his claves, waking him up. He glanced over his shoulder, staring up at her. Those gentle blue eyes of hers were enamored by the repetition, that smile of hers peeking out from under her butterfly mask made his lips reflect her grin. Feeling a warmth spark in his chest.

"Onyx? The mask?" He inquired softly, seeing her shake herself out of her stupor and fix the mask against his face. She bites her lip nervously, taking the edges of the strap in her hands and working on fixing the buckle. Kuro lifts his hands up to keep the mask in its spot. "Thanks, for this."

"You're welcome." Xion doesn't bother to hide her voice for this soft utterance, too transfixed by the concentration of fixing the mask. Kuro's ears pick up on her tone, before shaking it off and dismissing the possibility. Xion clears her throat, ready to continue to pretend. Now, it was time to do some real recon work. "How did you get here? Boat? …Walking?"

"Oh," Kuro muttered, eyes glancing about in a quick confusion before clenching his jaw and clutching his hands tightly. Kuro didn't want to lie, but he couldn't exactly tell this 'stranger' he was from another world. He didn't know them like he knew Arthur. "I… a friend dropped me off."

A half truth, which felt like a good middle of the road answer for Kuro. Xion froze partly through the tugging of the buckle, wondering what kind of friend had the power to send Kuro here. She squinted her eyes in thought, before getting the buckle off and now trying to fix it to the left portion of the mask's strap.

"Are you here alone?" 'Onyx' asked with a sharp inflection, getting the buckle to settle into the next notch over on the once broken piece of leather. Kuro shrugs, then glances out of the tent. Huffing through his nose and shaking his head.

"I'm here with a friend." Kuro said with a smile, his eyes turning to the floor. "Are you here with a friend?"

Xion stopped mid-buckling of the strap, before glancing at the back of Kuro's head. She thought of their conversation the day before Roxas collapsed after his mission to Agrabah. That invitation to be his friend truly made her day, and she felt her spirit lifted with the joy she felt. Her smile was sweet and gentle, a slight hint of blush bleeding into her cheeks before she spoke again.

"I am. I'm here with a friend." She whispered softly, her words spoken tickle his ear, the cadence of her voice was charming and pleasant to Kuro. Kuro feels the mask's leather tighten. Kuro lets go of the mask's face, finding that the mask didn't slip or fall off. Kuro rose to his feet, successfully now wearing the wooden goat mask. Kuro turned towards 'Onyx', offering a grateful smile.

"Thanks, Onyx." Kuro said with a nod. Xion lifted her shoulders, offering a smile on return. The reflection of such a gentle gesture made Xion feel lighter in her chest, and her eyes couldn't help but linger on the tender expression.

Amidst their silence, Kuro noticed that there was a noticeable silence in the immediate area.

He hadn't heard the rogue belch or laughter of the crowd, so the traffic must've died down by now. Glancing over at 'Onyx', he then peeks out through the opening. He sees the crowd has lessened, having decided to follow the horns to the center stage, leaving the outside tents unimpeded by the crowds. Kuro nudges his chin to the opening as he pulls the tent flap back and ushers Xion outside. Xion keeps to Kuro's side, as he closes the tent behind them and glances around the now empty space.

"Should be a little easier to breathe." Kuro noted as the pair walked out of the tent and into the street. Kuro's hands fold behind his back following the bulk of the crowd to the central stage. Kuro peeks through the townspeople, seeing the master of ceremonies trotting across the stage with a huge grin and an infectious energy. Hanging off of his turnt up bill hat was a huge golden feather, with his nose and eyes covered in a pink covered mask. A large golden loop hanging off of his left ear. His cloth cowl was a shade of dulled over yellow, with bells hanging off the edges of it. His shirt was split vertically, his right portion a violet and his left was rose colored. His leggings had one leg that is purple, while the other was a more vibrant shade with golden stripes running vertically along it. The Jester clapped his hands around the stage, to gather the attention of the crowd before continuing on with the entertainment.

~ Come one, come all ~

~ Hurry, hurry! here's your chance ~

~ See the mystery and romance ~

Kuro's eyebrows rose in surprise for what was being promised, leaning down towards 'Onyx' beside him and giving the butterfly mask-wearing person a nudge with the elbow. Xion felt the nudge, her lips breaking into a short smile as she glanced over at him. Kuro's bewildered gaze meeting hers.
"Mystery and romance? Really?" He questioned, crossing one arm over the other as he leaned up against a nearby tent pole. His left leg bends around the calf of his right. "I thought we're trying to have some fun."

"Maybe it's going to be a play?" Xion grumbled, shrugging as she mimicked Kuro's crossing of the arms, even leaning in the opposite direction. Her eyes saw his leg placement and following suit. Kuro shrugged with a single shoulder, leaning his head towards 'Onyx.'

"So, how long have you lived in the city?" Kuro asked, turning to the butterfly mask who 'hmphs' in response.

"Not long." Xion lies, hearing the crowd hush as the master of ceremonies begins to speak again.

~ Come one, come all ~

~ See the finest girl in France ~

~ Make an entrance to entrance ~

~ Dance la Esmeralda… ~

The Jester sends his hand down into a striking motion, the action resulting in a cloud of rose shaded mist bursting up from the ground as if a grenade of color blew up, leaving in the place of a lanky clown a gorgeous dark skinned woman.

With thick wavy hair that seemed to flow in motion with her every step. Her curls coiled and bounced with her as she walked. Her attire was one of a form fitting red dress, with a low cut collar that hugged the edges of her shoulder and dipped into the valley of her cleavage. The dress emphasized her slim waist, powerful thighs, her toned stomach and her buxom chest. Her ankles and wrists catching the glint of the high sun with every jingle and jangle of her glimmering anklets and bangles. Her shoulders dipped, rolling back to sway and contort her torso.

Drawing attention to her chest as her hands moved and ran against the silhouette of her dress, drawing up the humline up to her knees and showing off her smooth and tanned legs. The hooting and hollering commenced, with golden coins being thrown onto the stage to encourage the provocative dance.

She pulled a sash out clear satin from her waist, adorned with stars, the moon and sun, and began to stretch and bend her body to drape the fabric across her slender shoulders or against her lower back to bring the eyes to her plump bottom. Her lips pursed into a playful grin, her eyes flared with mischief as she continued to dance down the stage.

All of every move and step was caught in the leering stare of every onlooker with a heartbeat and a lewd imagination. Kuro's eyes glance away from the entertainment, his cheeks blistering red as he giggles softly to himself at the display. Xion watches with curiosity, a little confused by the way the crowd reacted to the scene.

"Why are they acting like that?" Xion asked, turning to Kuro for an explanation. That's when she saw him staring at the dancer in an amorous way. His lips fixed to a baffled grin, cheeks flushed and hands tightly gripping the sleeves of his shirt. Xion's eyes narrowed, her hair. "Why are you looking at her like that?"

"Oh, um-" Kuro rubbed the back of his neck, nails scratching into his skin as he let out a short sigh. He glances back at the woman, who tightens her hold of the sash and walks it over to the high throne of the festival stage. Located in its own section, with a small fence and lavished upholstered chair, sat the infamous Judge Claude Frollo.

Frollo is an older man, with his wrinkled, weathered face held in a permanent scowl and white hair that was neatly combed and hidden under his ebony and violet tricorn hat. He was dessed in a black and purple robe, with matching black shoulder pads with red stripes that ran vertical along his arms. Adorning his thin shriveled digits were rings on his fingers, one of sapphire and ruby on the right and one of emerald on the left.

Kuro turned to 'Onyx' and flashed them a smile. When thinking of why he was staring at her like that, he thought of what exactly he was attracted to. It could have been her features, her confidence in her dance, but he had settled on the bounce and the sway of her ebony hair. The haze of his sunset eyes cutting into Xion and nearly blinding her with their shine. "I think dark hair is very pretty."

Xion's interlaced hands clutched tightly, feeling her breath get caught in her throat. She nodded, turning back to watch the dancing.

The dark skinned woman's hips swaying and her eyes focused on the individual who sat in the prestigious seat made a sneering look at her. His eyes aglow in vexation. She seemed to have slipped into his lap, her sash finding its way around his neck and pulling him close to her face. Her primed plump lips pressed into the tip of his hooked nose. In his daze, she pulls the hat down in front of his face and saunters off with a cartwheel and a few winks into the crowd. She blows a kiss into the crowd, her left heel dragging forward and her right foot staying in place. Lowering herself into a split, she throws her hair back and flashes a joyful smile and a tight squint of her eyes before waving to her adoring crowd with a few full hand kisses and goodbye waves. The Purple Suited Jester returns to the stage, hands clapping and working the crowd up into a frenzy. Kuro sees a few bodies maneuver through the crowd, two pairs of hands grabbing him by the sleeves and one pair grabbing 'Onyx' by her shawl. Before the two could protest, the laughter and the screams commenced. The two of them were dragged towards the stage, as the Jester cups his hands around his mouth.

~ Here it is, the moment you've been waiting for ~

~ Here it is, you know exactly what's in store ~

~ Now's the time we laugh until our sides get sore ~

~ Now's the time we crown the King of Fools! ~

"Do you all remember last year's king?" The jester asked the audience, his eyes darting to the King of the last Festival of Fools, a bald drunkard who was hoisted up above the crowd in a regal way. The man retches to the applause of the crowd as many masked individuals are dragged and pulled towards the central stage.

~ So make a face that's horrible and frightening ~

~ Make a face as gruesome as a gargoyle's wing ~ ~ For the face that's ugliest will be the King of Fools. Why? ~

The lineup of masked individuals are led to the edge of the stage to be gawked at and be judged by the crowd, Kuro and Xion's eyes glancing about to see what exactly is about to happen. The red dressed dancer approached with a great deal of applause being directed at her. She then assisted one possible winner of the contest onto the stage by taking him by the hand and pulling him up.

The contestant was hunched over, with his back having an acute curve with a massive hump along his right shoulder. His face resembles a snout, with a large wide nose and a large lump above his left eye that barely dropped over his eye and nearly covered it entirely. His chin was weak, his lips cheeks appearing to lead directly into his neck. His hair was kissed by fire, a vibrant red, with a pair of tender teal eyes. He wore a green tunic with brown tights.

~ Topsy Turvy ~

~ Ugly folks, forget your shyness ~

The first few contestants had their masks removed by the lascivious dark haired woman and they all attempted to make faces that were horrible and frightening. Only to be booed off of the stage and promptly kicked off the platform by the purple Jester as he sang and danced around the next potential King of Fools. Kuro shook out his hands, and when his mask was removed, flexed out his arms and bared his teeth like an animal in a frenzy. His eyes aglow with fury and his veins constricted against his throat as he roared.

Claude Frollo's jaw goes slack and his eyes narrowed at the sight of the demon he thought was world bound to that decaying town weeks back. He was here. In his world now. Frollo's eyes darken, gnashing his teeth together as he stared daggers at the Heartless.

This did secure a few claps and hollers from the crowd, but not enough to secure a guaranteed victory. At best, an honorable mention.

Kuro was promptly shoved off stage with a stern and hard kick. Crashing into the stone and slashing puddles of split liquor. Kuro glances up to the stage, ready to see Onyx's hideous face. Onyx shook her head, trying desperately not to participate in the game. Even going as far as to dodge out of the way of grabs. The master of ceremonies had gripped her by the shoulders, keeping her in place. Xion struggled and struggled, but it was no use, Esmeralda had taken her mask with a good yank and ripped it off of her face. Revealing her face to the world.

"Great job staying out of sight and out of the spotlight!" Demyx's voice shouted out amongst the crowd, mindless picking his sitar as he shook his head in utter disbelief. He shook his head, rolling his eyes under his half lidded eyelids. "What do you think they are going to say to me when they report this as a failure because you showed your face? So unprofessional, Fourteen. Very uncool, dude."

~ Topsy Turvy ~

~ You could soon be called "Your Highness" ~

Kuro's jaw dropped and his eyes widened at the sight of Xion's embarrassed and frozen face. Her anxious blue eyes met his and she grimaced at the sight of Kuro knowing she was there. Kuro felt his body decompress and his mouth go dry. In an instant, he lets out a sigh of relief and a comforted grin graces his face.

"You're ok…" Was all he could muster the strength to utter. He couldn't contain the joy that sprang in his chest to see his friend was safe and sound.

Xion, however, couldn't focus on that.

Her cheeks are a furiously bright red and her eyes pulled into needle points. The crowd immediately began to protest and boo her, and she was promptly knocked off the stage with a hand to the shoulder. Kuro rushes to the side of the stage, arms out and immediately catches her into his arms. Her knees tucked against his right arm and his left cushioning her shoulders. She bounces in his grip. Their eyes met once again and the audience got quiet all around them. As if they could block out every other distraction from the world and they could only hear one another.

"Hey." Kuro muttered with a tender tone, his hands gently squeezing her shoulder and knee as he couldn't try to fight the smile that burgeoned onto his face. Xion's smile reflected the warmth she felt radiating off of his arms and chest, a heat unlike any other.

"Hey." Was all she could think to say back. The two continue to stare into one another's eyes, getting lost in the joy they felt in one another.

~ Put your foulest features on display ~

~ Be the king of Topsy Turvy Day ~

Esmeralda took hold of the final contestant's cheeks and made a pivot to yank the mask off of the hunched back man. But it was not to be. As the woman pulled, the man followed with her. It's then revealed to everyone that the mask wasn't in fact a fun masquerade, but in fact his actual face.

"That's not a mask! That's his real face!" A townsperson shouts, her voice laced in horror and disgust. Portions of the crowd begin to cry out in fear, a few cries and gasps echoing in the silence of the audience now. "He's hideous!"

"It's the bell ringer!" A man shouted with a flabbergasted stare. "From Notre Dame!"

The Hunchback's dark eyes shift along the crowd, seeing all the scowls and their frightened faces at his appearance. He huffs and whines, his massive hands covering his face and his body curling down into a crouch and trembling in fear. Knowing that despite their words of disgust, they were only second to the disdain that he held for himself. Kuro glanced around the crowd, slowly easing Xion onto her feet and staring at the crowd. Kuro then turned to the Hunchback, the fear he felt stirring in the crowd which he discerned as unwarranted. He stared at the Hunchback, not quite sure what exactly made the man so ugly.

Different? Sure. But not ugly. He was a human, why wasn't that enough? Kuro stood there in confusion, trying to process what was happening and why.

"Everyone! Don't panic! We asked for the ugliest face in Paris and here he is!" The Jester takes the hand of the Hunchback, who hesitantly lets the Jester do such a thing. The Jester then raises his hand up in triumph and begins to speak with an overjoyed and proud tone. "Quasimodo, the Hunchback of Notre Dame!"

The crowd, having been convinced of this reasoning, converted their screams of fear into uproarious applause. Quasimodo glanced around, the wave of approval and joy overwhelmed him like a tsunami, and his grin was one of genuine happiness and joy.

~ Ev-er-y-bo-dy! ~

~ Once a year, we throw a party here in town ~

~ Hail to the king! ~

~ Once a year, we turn all Paris upside down ~

The previous King of Fool's was immediately disregarded, being bumped out of his seat to make room for the new King. Quasimodo is crowd surfed into the throne, now being bounced and carried through the crowd.

~ Ha ha! Oh, what a king ~

~ Once a year, the ugliest will wear a crown ~

~ Girls, give a kiss ~

~ Once a year on Topsy Turvy Day ~

~ We've never had a king like this ~

Quasimodo is led to a central stage, high above the crowd and being led to the podium but the Jester. The purple suited master of ceremonies then proceeds to drape Quasimodo with a regal cape and given a scepter. The Hunchback was crying tears of pure happiness, holding the scepter in hand and waving to his adoring public.

~ Topsy Turvy Mad and crazy, upsy daisy, Topsy Turvy Day! ~

The steamers and colored confetti rained down from above, surrounding the new King of Fools in an aura of golden glory. Kuro and Xion couldn't help but join in the festivities and celebrate the victory of the hunchback. Whose joy was infectious and inspiring. Golden coins fell at his feet, and loose roses were thrown out to the newly crowned King.

Then a tomato smashed against Quasimodo's face. The crowd gasped in surprise, as what was just fun and games became a spectacle for those who saw Quasimodo as nothing more than a commodity to be played with as they sought fit.

The second tomato hit his jaw, followed by a variety of different fruits and vegetables. The Hunchback was frightened, and immediately began to try to run away. Only to slip on the remains of a tossed tomato skin and slip onto his back. His regalia began to soak up juices from watermelons, tomatoes, peaches and the like as he thrashed on the ground trying to get up.

Kuro watched in horror as he saw these people harass and torment the poor man. Who simply wanted to bask in the shine of celebration for a moment. Kuro saw Xion's hands clap around her mouth, stunned at the display they were seeing.

Kuro's fury boiled as soon as a lasso caught the man's throat and the poor man began to wail in anguish and panic. Another rope caught his hand, two more found themselves around his ankles.

What was eerie wasn't the terror that rang out from the Hunchback, but the laughter and enjoyment the crowd got from watching the poor man be treated like an animal.

Kuro followed the line leading to one of the townspeople, whose initial lasso around Quasimodo's throat had begun this spiral of senseless depravity. Kuro felt his hands tighten into fists, charging to the man who he had now locked in his sights.

"Kuro?" Xion's voice was lost in the crowd, as Kuro quickly approached the man. The man gave the rope a cruel tug, hearing the struggling baying of Quasimodo made the man echo out a laugh.

Kuro's eyes widened, feeling this intense premiation darkness in not only this man, but in this crowd. It spread like a wildfire, moving fast and quick.

"Can you believe what you're seeing?" The man asked, as Kuro got close enough to hear his words. "We got ourselves a monster!"

Kuro didn't dignify the man with a retort, resolving to immediately slamming a cold cocked fist straight into the stomach of the man before he could speak again. The man dropped the rope in response, arms wrapping around his struck abdomen, doubling over in pain. Kuro followed up with a hammering from the bottom of the same fist to the back of the man's skull, spiking the man's face into the ground. One of the onlookers screamed in disbelief, seeing Kuro's eyes glance up to the podium and seeing Quasimodo continue to struggle against the ropes that bound him to the floor. Although now, he no longer was gasping for air and was breathing somewhat normally.

"I got you. I got you. Give me a second." Kuro mutters to himself, following the line that leads from his left foot to two men who were tugging on it to keep Quasimodo tethered. Kuro set off to the other two men, taking off in a run and slamming his shoulders into the pair of men. Spearing both of them and taking them to the floor. The resulting actions knocked the rope loose and out of their grasp.

Kuro stumbled to his knees, before he felt a heel crash into his cheek and a bottle of half drank wine bang against the back of his head. The bottle shattered, covering the stones beneath him in shards of sudsy, glistening glass.

Kuro growled out in a fury, grabbing the ankle of a would-be kicker and pulling them to the floor. The body crashes into stone and is met with an elbow to the nose. Kuro crawls onto the top of the man, slamming a fist into the cheek and rattling their teeth with his strike and pulling back for another punch when he hears the roar of the crowd immediately die out. He turned his eyes to Quasimodo, seeing a figure move up the steps. With strong poise and a strong presence.

Esmeralda steadily and pointedly walks up onto the podium, approaching the terrified Quasimodo with a gentle and tender smile. She grabbed hold of the rope along his feet, taking a small knife and cutting him free of his binds.

"Don't be afraid. I'm sorry." Esmerelda spoke as softly as a psalm, her kindness an answer to a prayer that Quasimodo begged to be answered. She let her hand reach out and cup his cheek, her thumb brushing over the bruises of thrown objects and her eyes resting on the fresh rope burn along his neck. She felt her heart contort at the sight, an innocent man to be treated so harshly. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

"You! Harlot!" Judge Frollo shouted, rising out of his seat and walking to the railing of his private box. His striking eyes fixated on the dark skinned woman. "Get down at once! Leave that beast be!"

"Yes, your honor." Esmerelda spoke with a nod and bend of the knee. Offering a respectful tone for the unjust Judge. "I'll get down. Just as soon as I free this poor creature."

"I forbid it!" Frollo roared out with a pointed finger and a stomping heel. She had defied him, and it only served to deepen his resolve to make them suffer. "How dare you defy me!"

"You mistreat this poor boy the same way you mistreat my people." Esmerelda spoke freely and was impassioned by the courage that swept through her and gave her the strength to continue. She cut Quasimodo free as she spoke. Quasimodo immediately stumbled off of the podium and began to rush back towards the huge cathedral. Returning to Notre Dame. Esmerelda let him retreat without worry, focusing solely on the Judge."You speak of justice, yet you are cruel to those most in need of your help."

"Silence!" Frollo ordered the woman. His wrinkled hands closed into tight fists as he stared at her with a rage that could be felt as well as seen. His eyes were sinking in, his lips pulled back into a scowl and his hands shaking with fury. Xion rushed to Kuro's side, pulling him by the arm and dragging him off of the man he pinned.

"Justice!" Esmerelda responded, her hand clenched into a fist and is held definitely above her head. A symbol of power and courage. Kuro let himself be pulled by Xion, who took inventory of him and inspected his form. Besides the bruise in the back of the head, he appeared fine. She felt relief, her eyes diverting to the ground as Kuro's gaze turned towards the cathedral. Seeing Quasimodo shuffling up the steps and throwing open the doors to the church.

"Mark my words, you degenerate derelict. You will pay for this insolence." Frollo promised the woman, his chin turnt upright with his dismissive stare now complimented but a fiendish grin.

"Then it appears we've crowned the wrong fool." Esmerelda removed the crown of Fools off of Quasimodo's head, tossing it towards Claude Frollo with a look of disdain. "The only fool I see is you!"

"Captain! Arrest her and the vagrants who are causing a commotion in my city!" Frollo roared, the guards came forth and began to tear through the crowds. Kuro turned to Xion, pulling away from her grasp. He gave her a reluctant nod, before turning to the guards who began to move towards him.

"I need to go!" Kuro shouted, before taking off in a sprint. Xion ran after him, keeping up with his stride as he maneuvered through the crowd.

"Right behind you!" Xion shouted after him. The two of them rushed towards the cathedral. Kuro was sure Quasimodo would know where they could lay low for a while, as well as Kuro had this feeling that he needed to make sure that the man was alright after such an ordeal.

Kuro saw a small troop of guards ahead of him, taking position and ready to strike. Kuro ducked under a halberd swing from a guard, and raised his elbows to charge through the unsteady stance of a guard. Knocking him off his feet and sending him crashing to the floor. Meanwhile Xion dodged an overhead strike by tucking and rolling ahead of her. She saw a guard standing ahead of her, the tip of the halberd primed for a spear thrust, only for them to miss her as she dodged out of the way and duck underneath the swinging fist of another guard. He had underestimated Xion's speed as well as his immediate vicinity as his guantlet crashed into the cheek of the guard Xion juked out of the way of. The pair continued their sprint, the guards getting lost and stuck amongst the crowd if they weren't outright missing them.

Kuro and Xion reached the steps of the church, barging inside the hallowed ground in unison and shutting the door behind them at once. Kuro's back pressed to the door to keep it braced in case of a sudden charge from the local militia. Xion's hands slipped off the handle and she sank to the floor to rest on her knees. Her forehead resting against the cool iron of the door.

She felt her jaw clench, and her heart race. She had never been attacked by a person before. Heartless dozens of times. But a living human? It was distressing.

Kuro glanced down at the shaken Xion, nudging her foot with his own, getting her attention. He offered a smile incredulously, and then chuckled. He had wondered what he would say to her if he had ever seen her again. He cleared his throat, a hand pounding on his chest.

"So," Kuro began to speak, glancing around the cathedral floors. He patted his hand against his thigh, a breath of relief blew out of his nose. He saw those blue eyes, that thin smile and was captivated as he was the first time he saw them. His goofy grin spoke more than his words could express. But he tried. "How have you been?"

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