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kh_drabbleChallenge: [71] Castles
Title: Freewill
Words: 604
Technicalities: Larxene-centric, set shortly before Sora arrives at Castle Oblivion.
Warnings: (Possible) grammar/spelling errors, spoilers, barely hinted Marluxia/Larxene.
"There's a reason the walls are white," said Axel, who had a nasty habit of finding people's fault lines and cracking them open. "No better way to contrast our miserable existence-"
Larxene was not the type for formalities, especially when Axel talked nonsense. She launched a right hook at Axel's current position, waited until he ducked to his right - her left - and caught him with the other hand and a kick for good measure.
She didn't wait around to see him land in an uncomfortably low split at a distance of several feet; she'd seen enough cheap party tricks to know that this one was nothing spectacular. By the time her lips had turned up in a sneer, it was for the ice queen, not the flexible pyro, several floors away.
"I thought I made it clear that you aren't worthy of this place," hissed Vexen, his fingers clasping the stem of an invisible pencil that spun idly over a piece of paper, where a human-like figure was sketched. "I don't expect someone of your experience to appreciate my work."
"I appreciate the work you put into that comment," Larxene taunted. "'You aren't worthy of my greatness, Larxene, therefore-'" But before he could respond, she was gone again, floors above the laboratory in a place where his retort went as unheard as her own: "It's laughable, really, that I'm your superior, now that numbers don't mean a thing. Downright lovely."
The thought was bothersome enough to delay her journey for a moment. When she went on her way, ready to greet whomever appeared next with a disconcerting leer, she traveled back in the direction she had come.
She met unexpected resistance in the form of a fully-drawn cloak.
"Nice to see the lap dog has come out to play," Zexion commented smugly. "We don't see you very often, but you never come without wanting something-"
A second figure lurked in the background, thoughtful but imposing nonetheless. "We don't need trouble," Lexaeus scolded, speaking to Zexion while staring coldly at Larxene. Larxene sneered pointedly at the two as she prepared to leave, but not before she caught a glimpse of a scowl beneath Zexion's hood.
Not to be trusted, she told herself as she disappeared from their view, holding Zexion's hateful gaze with a smirk.
The accusation - lap dog - burned her senses by the time she reached the top of the castle. She knew that he was waiting, and launched into an explanation right off the get-go: "Axel followed me for several floors; he's getting anxious. Vexen's toy is well underway. And as for the others-"
"Larxene," Marluxia interrupted excitedly, "We won't have to wait much longer."
She was tired of hearing about them when there were problems within the Castle.
"You must be prepared to greet them personally," said Marluxia, his thoughts already distant when he brushed her cheek with the back of one gloved hand and walked past. "You'll have plenty of fun with them, won't you, Larxene?"
"If Axel doesn't get to them first," Larxene commented, but by then Marluxia was out of hearing range. She took a moment - the first in a while - to relax, letting their angry words slide off of her conscience. None of this was personal. She was just doing her job. If they hated her now, they would see through to the heart of her scheme when the tension of being unable to trust one's fellows was gone. Until then, she would play the role of the spy and lap dog... It was her choice, after all.
She forced a laugh that sounded oddly bark-like in the silence, echoing off Castle Oblivion's white walls to infinity.
Title: Freewill
Words: 604
Technicalities: Larxene-centric, set shortly before Sora arrives at Castle Oblivion.
Warnings: (Possible) grammar/spelling errors, spoilers, barely hinted Marluxia/Larxene.
"There's a reason the walls are white," said Axel, who had a nasty habit of finding people's fault lines and cracking them open. "No better way to contrast our miserable existence-"
Larxene was not the type for formalities, especially when Axel talked nonsense. She launched a right hook at Axel's current position, waited until he ducked to his right - her left - and caught him with the other hand and a kick for good measure.
She didn't wait around to see him land in an uncomfortably low split at a distance of several feet; she'd seen enough cheap party tricks to know that this one was nothing spectacular. By the time her lips had turned up in a sneer, it was for the ice queen, not the flexible pyro, several floors away.
"I thought I made it clear that you aren't worthy of this place," hissed Vexen, his fingers clasping the stem of an invisible pencil that spun idly over a piece of paper, where a human-like figure was sketched. "I don't expect someone of your experience to appreciate my work."
"I appreciate the work you put into that comment," Larxene taunted. "'You aren't worthy of my greatness, Larxene, therefore-'" But before he could respond, she was gone again, floors above the laboratory in a place where his retort went as unheard as her own: "It's laughable, really, that I'm your superior, now that numbers don't mean a thing. Downright lovely."
The thought was bothersome enough to delay her journey for a moment. When she went on her way, ready to greet whomever appeared next with a disconcerting leer, she traveled back in the direction she had come.
She met unexpected resistance in the form of a fully-drawn cloak.
"Nice to see the lap dog has come out to play," Zexion commented smugly. "We don't see you very often, but you never come without wanting something-"
A second figure lurked in the background, thoughtful but imposing nonetheless. "We don't need trouble," Lexaeus scolded, speaking to Zexion while staring coldly at Larxene. Larxene sneered pointedly at the two as she prepared to leave, but not before she caught a glimpse of a scowl beneath Zexion's hood.
Not to be trusted, she told herself as she disappeared from their view, holding Zexion's hateful gaze with a smirk.
The accusation - lap dog - burned her senses by the time she reached the top of the castle. She knew that he was waiting, and launched into an explanation right off the get-go: "Axel followed me for several floors; he's getting anxious. Vexen's toy is well underway. And as for the others-"
"Larxene," Marluxia interrupted excitedly, "We won't have to wait much longer."
She was tired of hearing about them when there were problems within the Castle.
"You must be prepared to greet them personally," said Marluxia, his thoughts already distant when he brushed her cheek with the back of one gloved hand and walked past. "You'll have plenty of fun with them, won't you, Larxene?"
"If Axel doesn't get to them first," Larxene commented, but by then Marluxia was out of hearing range. She took a moment - the first in a while - to relax, letting their angry words slide off of her conscience. None of this was personal. She was just doing her job. If they hated her now, they would see through to the heart of her scheme when the tension of being unable to trust one's fellows was gone. Until then, she would play the role of the spy and lap dog... It was her choice, after all.
She forced a laugh that sounded oddly bark-like in the silence, echoing off Castle Oblivion's white walls to infinity.
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Date: 2006-08-02 06:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-08 02:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-08 04:09 pm (UTC)It was good to see an Organization-centric drabble in this challenge. :D
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Date: 2006-08-15 12:48 pm (UTC)