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Hi! This is my DemyxZexion friendship fic. Sound crack? I know it is. My KH Mood has been on lotsa crack lately. Don't know where it's been getting it... It's just have I've gotten into these two being buddies lately, thanks to ffnet. It's a long story, so just trust me on this...
Don't expect any epics here: this story will be more or less three chapters long.
Mostly ramblings and silliness this chapter. I'll work on the actual plot in the next two.
Storytime!
Chapter 1: "Demyx, What Are You Doing?"
A soft vrum resonated in the all-too-still halls of Castle Oblivion. Steps lightly kissing the chilled floor seemed like explosions of sound in the frozen silence. There was no reply to these loud little sounds; No Heartless skittering in to investigate, no clamber in the upper or lower floors, no other vrums sounding off to check out this lone trespasser. There were only the steps, stirring up a think layer of dust as they reluctantly moved themselves forward, in this hollow shell with walls white as winter, white as death.
This isolated intruder wore a black cloak, the upward hood hiding the face from sight. The figure soon lowers his hood, however, revealing a boy in his late teenage years, with dirty blonde, mullet-styled hair and rich emerald eyes. It was none other than the ninth of the Organization; The Melodious Nocturne, Demyx, and he didn't seemed too thrilled to be here in this neglected palace.
Demyx figured that he was the first one that had come here ever since the incident three months ago. Ever since Marluxia's attempted rebellion against the Organization left five of its members dead. Even though the castle was still useable, everyone who survived in the account, even those who were hardly involved at all, had developed a distaste for the place. Perhaps developed a fear of the place was more accurate, but no one would ever admit that.
Well, anyone besides Demyx anyway. Oh, he was more than willing to admit it; this place scared him now. Just the thought that five of his former colleagues had perished here was enough for him to feel uncomfortable here. Sure, Vexen was a big grouch, and Laexaus kinda scared him, and Marluxia was just....Marluxia, but that didn't make their deaths any less terrifying.
And then there were the people he liked. Larxene had been the third to last to fall, thanks to the Keyblader. Yeah, she was plenty scary even when she wasn't mad, and when she picked on him she tended to be downright mean, but he'd always crushed on her anyway. Stupid, he knew, especially when she was the object of interest of someone like Axel, but he couldn't help it...
And then there was Zexion.
The Cloaked Schemer, Zexion, or "Zexy", as he usually called him, much to the other's chagrin, had been the first he had befriended at the Organization...sort of. Actually, at first their "friendship" mostly consisted of the mulleted blond following the calm purple-haired teen around, blabbering on about whatever while the other ignored him, or tried to, anyway. Sometimes Zexion would let him hang out at the laboratory with him, telling him that if he touched anything he would probably get turned into a girl or some other unequally pleasant state of being. That was more than enough to keep the water-wielder far, far away from the chemicals...usually.
After a while, Zexion spent less time ignoring him and more time actually talking to him. Not that Zexion was a quiet person; it's just that he hadn't been talking to him that much. But then he would occasionally reply to whatever Demyx was talking about, whether it was out of interest or an attempt to the get the Melodious Nocturne to shut up. Other times he would suddenly go off into philosophical ramblings for no reason. Sure, he didn't get much of what the purple-haired boy was saying, but it was interesting nonetheless, and Zexion seemed to enjoy having an audience for it.
While they weren't exactly buddy-buddy, they did cover each other's backs. Zexion would go rescue Demyx whenever he had a berserk Saix on his tail, while Demyx would let Zexion know when it was the best time to get revenge on Axel for putting lots of neon green dye in his shampoo bottle. Truthfully, it was usually Zexion saving Demyx's hide, but that didn't mean that the purple teen didn’t appreciate those times when it was the other way around, even if he never admitted it. Zexion could be far too prideful for his own good.
They often hanged out as well. Zexion would give Demyx some metal puzzles to figure out, and he would watch in amusement as the Melodious Nocturne threw fits trying to undo them. The purple-eyed teen would read Les Miserables as Demyx played some of his calmer tunes on his giant sitar or slept, though Zexion would throw one of his spare books at the blond if he was getting a little too riled up playing his sitar or snoring too loud. Demyx had even, after much persistence, gotten Zexion hooked on comic books. Though it made Zexion fall behind on his other, more sophisticated readings, the Cloaked
Schemer wasn't sure whether to be mad at Demyx or not.
Why had he always admired Zexion so much? That was easy. Zexion was the coolest, most collected person he had ever met. Nothing could faze him. He could be stuck in a raging inferno and still be calm enough to escape with nary a singe (though the fact that he often had to deal with Axel's pyromaniac tendencies would help him in such a situation as well) And he was so much smarter than anyone else Demyx had ever known. Zexion wasn't called The Cloaked Schemer for nothing. His coolly calculated plans could outsmart even the slickest foes. In short, he was everything Demyx wasn't, everything Demyx wanted to be.
But Demyx hadn't come here to say goodbye to Zexion, though he considered doing that while he was here. No, he had been sent here against his will, to clean Castle Oblivion, of all things. Not that anyone planned to move in anytime soon. He had no idea how the Superior's stolen TV got into his room, he swore it. It had to be Axel, he was sure of it. Unfortunately the Superior didn't see things this way, and, since Demyx had already swept The Castle That Never Was from top to bottom just a couple days ago, he had been sent to clean here instead.
So, here he was, stuck in Castle Oblivion, with only a rag and overbearing silence to keep him company. And there were thirteen floors of this...he was currently on floor five.
...Although he supposed that he didn't have to be quiet too. After all, he doubted anyone was watching him in this colorless tomb…
A huge, unusually-shaped cocoon of light appeared in his grasp, the glow soon slipping away to reveal a blue-and-white sitar that was just as tall as he was. Strumming a simple chord, a legion of water forms, either taking on the appearance of Demyx himself or of large musical notes, rose up from the floor.
"Well, might as well have some fun," Demyx said to himself. "DANCE, water, DANCE!"
The Melodious Nocturne let loose with some high-octane power rock music that blasted away the predatory silence. The water clones and notes swerved and twisted to the song's whims, splashing against the walls and throwing themselves against the ceiling and washing away any grime that had built up over the past few months. New forms popped up whenever others had done their duty. Soon the floor was submerged under a thin layer of liquid, the remains of the forms that had sacrificed themselves in the name of cleanliness.
And Demyx? He couldn't have been having more fun. The emerald-eyed teen glided across the water's surface, like a boundless breeze, his fingers stroking out the melody like it would be the very last song he would ever play.
But this grew tiring after a while for the Melodious Nocturne, so left the sitar to play on its own accord. Snapping his fingers, he summoned one his minion Nobodies, a Dancer. This underling had only a vague human shape, a feminine one, with cream and pink coloring. The scarf tied around its upper head and the "pants" it wore were of a rose hue, while the rest of its gangly body, save for brown cross across the center of its body, was of a pale tan coloring.
And right then it made the perfect dancing partner.
Demyx playfully bowed to the Dancer before he took it into his arms and floated across the floor with it. He twirled it, he lifted it up into the air, he tossed it up and caught it in a dramatic fashion, treating the dancer as if it was an actual person. They went through a variety of dances as they drifted across the floor; slow dances, tangos, discos, the moonwalk. With some of the larger dances, such as the electric slide, he puppeted the water forms to join as well, so they were one synchronized, tranced force. The blue-and-white sitar followed obediently behind its master, changing tunes as Demyx willed it to.
He and the Dancer were in the middle of the cha-cha when Demyx heard the voice.
"Demyx, what are you doing?"
The Melodious Nocturne was so entrenched in his euphoric high that he didn't fully realize who had spoken.
"Oh, hey! Dude, you gotta come down here! I'm having an awesome time with this Dancer here! I can summon one for you too, you know. C'mon, you know you wanna try it, Ze-"
And THEN it hit him.
The sitar struck a sour note and abruptly burst into light, leaving not a trace of itself behind, the water forms promptly dissolved, and the Dancer skated off when its partner suddenly froze in place and lost all interest in dancing.
Then slowly, stiffly, Demyx turned his head around to the source of the voice.
At the top of the entrance steps to the sixth floor, just above all the excess water produced by the blond's antics, was a purple-haired boy in his late teens dressed in a black cloak, just as Demyx was. His arms crossed, his purple eyes scanned the waterlogged scene before him, finally resting themselves on the emerald eyed-blond before him.
Demyx choked on his words a good deal before he could force them out of his throat.
"Z-Zex!"
Don't expect any epics here: this story will be more or less three chapters long.
Mostly ramblings and silliness this chapter. I'll work on the actual plot in the next two.
Storytime!
Chapter 1: "Demyx, What Are You Doing?"
A soft vrum resonated in the all-too-still halls of Castle Oblivion. Steps lightly kissing the chilled floor seemed like explosions of sound in the frozen silence. There was no reply to these loud little sounds; No Heartless skittering in to investigate, no clamber in the upper or lower floors, no other vrums sounding off to check out this lone trespasser. There were only the steps, stirring up a think layer of dust as they reluctantly moved themselves forward, in this hollow shell with walls white as winter, white as death.
This isolated intruder wore a black cloak, the upward hood hiding the face from sight. The figure soon lowers his hood, however, revealing a boy in his late teenage years, with dirty blonde, mullet-styled hair and rich emerald eyes. It was none other than the ninth of the Organization; The Melodious Nocturne, Demyx, and he didn't seemed too thrilled to be here in this neglected palace.
Demyx figured that he was the first one that had come here ever since the incident three months ago. Ever since Marluxia's attempted rebellion against the Organization left five of its members dead. Even though the castle was still useable, everyone who survived in the account, even those who were hardly involved at all, had developed a distaste for the place. Perhaps developed a fear of the place was more accurate, but no one would ever admit that.
Well, anyone besides Demyx anyway. Oh, he was more than willing to admit it; this place scared him now. Just the thought that five of his former colleagues had perished here was enough for him to feel uncomfortable here. Sure, Vexen was a big grouch, and Laexaus kinda scared him, and Marluxia was just....Marluxia, but that didn't make their deaths any less terrifying.
And then there were the people he liked. Larxene had been the third to last to fall, thanks to the Keyblader. Yeah, she was plenty scary even when she wasn't mad, and when she picked on him she tended to be downright mean, but he'd always crushed on her anyway. Stupid, he knew, especially when she was the object of interest of someone like Axel, but he couldn't help it...
And then there was Zexion.
The Cloaked Schemer, Zexion, or "Zexy", as he usually called him, much to the other's chagrin, had been the first he had befriended at the Organization...sort of. Actually, at first their "friendship" mostly consisted of the mulleted blond following the calm purple-haired teen around, blabbering on about whatever while the other ignored him, or tried to, anyway. Sometimes Zexion would let him hang out at the laboratory with him, telling him that if he touched anything he would probably get turned into a girl or some other unequally pleasant state of being. That was more than enough to keep the water-wielder far, far away from the chemicals...usually.
After a while, Zexion spent less time ignoring him and more time actually talking to him. Not that Zexion was a quiet person; it's just that he hadn't been talking to him that much. But then he would occasionally reply to whatever Demyx was talking about, whether it was out of interest or an attempt to the get the Melodious Nocturne to shut up. Other times he would suddenly go off into philosophical ramblings for no reason. Sure, he didn't get much of what the purple-haired boy was saying, but it was interesting nonetheless, and Zexion seemed to enjoy having an audience for it.
While they weren't exactly buddy-buddy, they did cover each other's backs. Zexion would go rescue Demyx whenever he had a berserk Saix on his tail, while Demyx would let Zexion know when it was the best time to get revenge on Axel for putting lots of neon green dye in his shampoo bottle. Truthfully, it was usually Zexion saving Demyx's hide, but that didn't mean that the purple teen didn’t appreciate those times when it was the other way around, even if he never admitted it. Zexion could be far too prideful for his own good.
They often hanged out as well. Zexion would give Demyx some metal puzzles to figure out, and he would watch in amusement as the Melodious Nocturne threw fits trying to undo them. The purple-eyed teen would read Les Miserables as Demyx played some of his calmer tunes on his giant sitar or slept, though Zexion would throw one of his spare books at the blond if he was getting a little too riled up playing his sitar or snoring too loud. Demyx had even, after much persistence, gotten Zexion hooked on comic books. Though it made Zexion fall behind on his other, more sophisticated readings, the Cloaked
Schemer wasn't sure whether to be mad at Demyx or not.
Why had he always admired Zexion so much? That was easy. Zexion was the coolest, most collected person he had ever met. Nothing could faze him. He could be stuck in a raging inferno and still be calm enough to escape with nary a singe (though the fact that he often had to deal with Axel's pyromaniac tendencies would help him in such a situation as well) And he was so much smarter than anyone else Demyx had ever known. Zexion wasn't called The Cloaked Schemer for nothing. His coolly calculated plans could outsmart even the slickest foes. In short, he was everything Demyx wasn't, everything Demyx wanted to be.
But Demyx hadn't come here to say goodbye to Zexion, though he considered doing that while he was here. No, he had been sent here against his will, to clean Castle Oblivion, of all things. Not that anyone planned to move in anytime soon. He had no idea how the Superior's stolen TV got into his room, he swore it. It had to be Axel, he was sure of it. Unfortunately the Superior didn't see things this way, and, since Demyx had already swept The Castle That Never Was from top to bottom just a couple days ago, he had been sent to clean here instead.
So, here he was, stuck in Castle Oblivion, with only a rag and overbearing silence to keep him company. And there were thirteen floors of this...he was currently on floor five.
...Although he supposed that he didn't have to be quiet too. After all, he doubted anyone was watching him in this colorless tomb…
A huge, unusually-shaped cocoon of light appeared in his grasp, the glow soon slipping away to reveal a blue-and-white sitar that was just as tall as he was. Strumming a simple chord, a legion of water forms, either taking on the appearance of Demyx himself or of large musical notes, rose up from the floor.
"Well, might as well have some fun," Demyx said to himself. "DANCE, water, DANCE!"
The Melodious Nocturne let loose with some high-octane power rock music that blasted away the predatory silence. The water clones and notes swerved and twisted to the song's whims, splashing against the walls and throwing themselves against the ceiling and washing away any grime that had built up over the past few months. New forms popped up whenever others had done their duty. Soon the floor was submerged under a thin layer of liquid, the remains of the forms that had sacrificed themselves in the name of cleanliness.
And Demyx? He couldn't have been having more fun. The emerald-eyed teen glided across the water's surface, like a boundless breeze, his fingers stroking out the melody like it would be the very last song he would ever play.
But this grew tiring after a while for the Melodious Nocturne, so left the sitar to play on its own accord. Snapping his fingers, he summoned one his minion Nobodies, a Dancer. This underling had only a vague human shape, a feminine one, with cream and pink coloring. The scarf tied around its upper head and the "pants" it wore were of a rose hue, while the rest of its gangly body, save for brown cross across the center of its body, was of a pale tan coloring.
And right then it made the perfect dancing partner.
Demyx playfully bowed to the Dancer before he took it into his arms and floated across the floor with it. He twirled it, he lifted it up into the air, he tossed it up and caught it in a dramatic fashion, treating the dancer as if it was an actual person. They went through a variety of dances as they drifted across the floor; slow dances, tangos, discos, the moonwalk. With some of the larger dances, such as the electric slide, he puppeted the water forms to join as well, so they were one synchronized, tranced force. The blue-and-white sitar followed obediently behind its master, changing tunes as Demyx willed it to.
He and the Dancer were in the middle of the cha-cha when Demyx heard the voice.
"Demyx, what are you doing?"
The Melodious Nocturne was so entrenched in his euphoric high that he didn't fully realize who had spoken.
"Oh, hey! Dude, you gotta come down here! I'm having an awesome time with this Dancer here! I can summon one for you too, you know. C'mon, you know you wanna try it, Ze-"
And THEN it hit him.
The sitar struck a sour note and abruptly burst into light, leaving not a trace of itself behind, the water forms promptly dissolved, and the Dancer skated off when its partner suddenly froze in place and lost all interest in dancing.
Then slowly, stiffly, Demyx turned his head around to the source of the voice.
At the top of the entrance steps to the sixth floor, just above all the excess water produced by the blond's antics, was a purple-haired boy in his late teens dressed in a black cloak, just as Demyx was. His arms crossed, his purple eyes scanned the waterlogged scene before him, finally resting themselves on the emerald eyed-blond before him.
Demyx choked on his words a good deal before he could force them out of his throat.
"Z-Zex!"
I heart it dearly.
