Yes, it's Toy Story
Sep. 10th, 2006 12:45 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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kh_drabbleChallenge:: None
Title:: Talking Toys
Word Count:: 511
Characters:: Zexion, Buzz Lightyear
Author's Notes:: An idea in the works. Toy Story is partially owned by Disney, and it would boggle some minds as to how the toys actually do come to life.
Zexion envisioned that sleep was for the weak, the apathetic, those without something to drive them. He ignored the neophytes who skipped out early, their loud complaints explaining that sleep was better than “cramming the collective knowledge of the universe into your brain until it busts” as Axel had skillfully put it. Useless, that’s what they were. Help from other parties had the tendency to get in his way. Save if the help came from Vexen. The man was competent, like-minded -- driven.
Only the latest experiment that Vexen had been pursuing had become a growing obsession. Always careful of whom he allowed entrance to his labs, Vexen now made it impossible to gain access without expressed permission. If VI could have been miffed about not being invited to partake in the research, then he would have been. Lexaeus had told Zexion of the new project. Something of toys talking and animated of their own free will.
Zexion agreed with Xigbar’s point of view: Vexen had gone off the deep end.
In his own time Zexion sought a way to disprove Vexen’s research, to put him back onto the right track. Unable to access the information within the databases -- heavily encrypted with a key-code he couldn’t fathom -- Zexion's attempts to lay his hands on the papers themselves met with no success. Vexen carried his notes with him everywhere. A night met with little sleep from both his own investigations and seeking to destroy Vexen’s, VI mentally chided himself that rest would do him good. The words blurred on the papers before him and even his tea cup danced in a wavering fashion.
Never would he back Vexen’s research, not on something as silly as talking toys. Everyone knew that toys weren’t alive; they didn’t magically walk and talk when the owners weren’t about. They couldn’t think or act logically on their own. Zexion firmly repeated his theory as he strode down the halls, quiet and empty, keeping with the late hour. His hypothesis was solid, airtight, and indestructible.
It was blasted into oblivion when he saw the spaceman toy running past him.
The toy was animated, moving with a purpose. Zexion even believed for a moment that the toy was logically assessing him; if the Nobody was a threat or not. Sprinting past Zexion, plastic joints clacking, the words “To infinity and beyond!” rang out in a burly voice. The action figure leapt boldly through the doorway that Zexion had come from, a triumphant shout echoing, before the latch clicked shut.
Dumbfounded, Zexion replayed what he had just seen over in his mind. Unconvinced at what his faultless memory showed, VI stared hard at the closed door. It was impossible… it had to be. The door was thrown open. VI looked back down the dark hall he had come from. Nothing looked back at him. No toy, no blinking lights, no colourful plastic figurine. He shut the door with a mutter.
He wouldn’t, he’d never give in and agree to Vexen’s theory about toys.
Zexion just needed more sleep.
Title:: Talking Toys
Word Count:: 511
Characters:: Zexion, Buzz Lightyear
Author's Notes:: An idea in the works. Toy Story is partially owned by Disney, and it would boggle some minds as to how the toys actually do come to life.
Zexion envisioned that sleep was for the weak, the apathetic, those without something to drive them. He ignored the neophytes who skipped out early, their loud complaints explaining that sleep was better than “cramming the collective knowledge of the universe into your brain until it busts” as Axel had skillfully put it. Useless, that’s what they were. Help from other parties had the tendency to get in his way. Save if the help came from Vexen. The man was competent, like-minded -- driven.
Only the latest experiment that Vexen had been pursuing had become a growing obsession. Always careful of whom he allowed entrance to his labs, Vexen now made it impossible to gain access without expressed permission. If VI could have been miffed about not being invited to partake in the research, then he would have been. Lexaeus had told Zexion of the new project. Something of toys talking and animated of their own free will.
Zexion agreed with Xigbar’s point of view: Vexen had gone off the deep end.
In his own time Zexion sought a way to disprove Vexen’s research, to put him back onto the right track. Unable to access the information within the databases -- heavily encrypted with a key-code he couldn’t fathom -- Zexion's attempts to lay his hands on the papers themselves met with no success. Vexen carried his notes with him everywhere. A night met with little sleep from both his own investigations and seeking to destroy Vexen’s, VI mentally chided himself that rest would do him good. The words blurred on the papers before him and even his tea cup danced in a wavering fashion.
Never would he back Vexen’s research, not on something as silly as talking toys. Everyone knew that toys weren’t alive; they didn’t magically walk and talk when the owners weren’t about. They couldn’t think or act logically on their own. Zexion firmly repeated his theory as he strode down the halls, quiet and empty, keeping with the late hour. His hypothesis was solid, airtight, and indestructible.
It was blasted into oblivion when he saw the spaceman toy running past him.
The toy was animated, moving with a purpose. Zexion even believed for a moment that the toy was logically assessing him; if the Nobody was a threat or not. Sprinting past Zexion, plastic joints clacking, the words “To infinity and beyond!” rang out in a burly voice. The action figure leapt boldly through the doorway that Zexion had come from, a triumphant shout echoing, before the latch clicked shut.
Dumbfounded, Zexion replayed what he had just seen over in his mind. Unconvinced at what his faultless memory showed, VI stared hard at the closed door. It was impossible… it had to be. The door was thrown open. VI looked back down the dark hall he had come from. Nothing looked back at him. No toy, no blinking lights, no colourful plastic figurine. He shut the door with a mutter.
He wouldn’t, he’d never give in and agree to Vexen’s theory about toys.
Zexion just needed more sleep.
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Date: 2006-09-11 02:16 am (UTC)That line will be used - it has to be. ^^
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