Sanctuary Challenge
Apr. 28th, 2006 11:24 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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kh_drabbleTitle: Gaining and Losing
Challenge: Sanctuary
Words: 493
Characters: Demyx
Rating: uh...PG for sadness?
Notes: Demyx encounters a new world.
It was a sad reminder of what they were.
Demyx had been the first to investigate this new world. When he’d arrived he’d found the city in the middle of a festival. He’d felt something then, mingling with the crowd, surrounded by music and laughter, jostled by strangers dancing in the street…but he couldn’t have told you what it was.
Something familiar, like a forgotten memory, the vague sensation of fingers moving over strings. He thought it might be joy.
Whatever it was, it was always accompanied by music. Before, with only his sitar and the melodies in his head, it had been a small thing, just the bare glimmer of pleasure brought on by the feeling of his instrument in his hands and music in his ears.
The festival was something else entirely. It was excitement. It was other musicians filling the streets, gypsies dancing. It was some much more than anything he’d ever experienced in his (life?) existence. For a short time he’d forgotten about the mission, the Organization, everything. He’d laughed at jesters, sung songs with street children, and even danced to another person’s music. He immersed himself in it and…
It didn’t feel fake.
It wasn’t like the forced laughs, the smiles he gave his teammates. It wasn’t like trying to relive old half-forgotten memories of a real life. It was like living.
He might be a Nobody, but the people dancing to the sound of his sitar didn’t know it.
Then Zexion came and took it all away.
Apparently the Organization didn’t think he was being very productive. He’d been sent back to be chastised and locked up in his room as punishment. He’d have teleported out if he didn’t think that they’d catch him within five minutes of leaving. He’d had to wait for them to release him, wait before he could return to the newest world.
It was all gone now.
Zexion had been given the duty of corrupting the world. He’d done a spectacular job. The singing crowd was a screaming mob. Demyx could see Zexion’s influence in them, filling them with fear and hate. They’d be heartless soon.
In front of the mob stood a stone cathedral, more magnificent than any other building in the city. High atop the structure stood a short, disfigured monster of a man, defiantly holding up a woman above his head. Demyx thought he recognized her as one of the gypsies from the festival, though her brightly colored clothes had been replaced by a plain white dress.
The hideous little man was yelling something back at the crowd. Demyx mouthed the word silently to himself.
Sanctuary.
He watched as the mob tore through the front doors of the cathedral, spilling into the building with torches in hand, destroying the ugly man’s safe haven, the only place he could relax and be himself.
Demyx would play his sitar that night and imagine that this was what sadness must feel like.
Challenge: Sanctuary
Words: 493
Characters: Demyx
Rating: uh...PG for sadness?
Notes: Demyx encounters a new world.
It was a sad reminder of what they were.
Demyx had been the first to investigate this new world. When he’d arrived he’d found the city in the middle of a festival. He’d felt something then, mingling with the crowd, surrounded by music and laughter, jostled by strangers dancing in the street…but he couldn’t have told you what it was.
Something familiar, like a forgotten memory, the vague sensation of fingers moving over strings. He thought it might be joy.
Whatever it was, it was always accompanied by music. Before, with only his sitar and the melodies in his head, it had been a small thing, just the bare glimmer of pleasure brought on by the feeling of his instrument in his hands and music in his ears.
The festival was something else entirely. It was excitement. It was other musicians filling the streets, gypsies dancing. It was some much more than anything he’d ever experienced in his (life?) existence. For a short time he’d forgotten about the mission, the Organization, everything. He’d laughed at jesters, sung songs with street children, and even danced to another person’s music. He immersed himself in it and…
It didn’t feel fake.
It wasn’t like the forced laughs, the smiles he gave his teammates. It wasn’t like trying to relive old half-forgotten memories of a real life. It was like living.
He might be a Nobody, but the people dancing to the sound of his sitar didn’t know it.
Then Zexion came and took it all away.
Apparently the Organization didn’t think he was being very productive. He’d been sent back to be chastised and locked up in his room as punishment. He’d have teleported out if he didn’t think that they’d catch him within five minutes of leaving. He’d had to wait for them to release him, wait before he could return to the newest world.
It was all gone now.
Zexion had been given the duty of corrupting the world. He’d done a spectacular job. The singing crowd was a screaming mob. Demyx could see Zexion’s influence in them, filling them with fear and hate. They’d be heartless soon.
In front of the mob stood a stone cathedral, more magnificent than any other building in the city. High atop the structure stood a short, disfigured monster of a man, defiantly holding up a woman above his head. Demyx thought he recognized her as one of the gypsies from the festival, though her brightly colored clothes had been replaced by a plain white dress.
The hideous little man was yelling something back at the crowd. Demyx mouthed the word silently to himself.
Sanctuary.
He watched as the mob tore through the front doors of the cathedral, spilling into the building with torches in hand, destroying the ugly man’s safe haven, the only place he could relax and be himself.
Demyx would play his sitar that night and imagine that this was what sadness must feel like.
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no subject
Date: 2006-04-28 08:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-29 07:47 pm (UTC)Anyway, I might have shown a little (read: lot) of favoritism when deciding who to write for this. Demyx is my lovely little funky-haired muse.
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Date: 2006-04-29 08:00 pm (UTC)I love Demyx, man. Him and his mullet. <3
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Date: 2006-04-29 12:45 pm (UTC)Demyx's delight for his music and worry (perhaps?) for the town prove that he CAN feel, and I liked that.
no subject
Date: 2006-04-29 07:56 pm (UTC)Ahem...anyway, I think Demyx was mourning as much for his loss as that of the town, though he probably has trouble understanding the whole concept.
My poor, little Demyx...