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Entry 1: Juvenile Hospitality ByL Roseshadow

When Demyx had first joined the Organization there was no big welcome celebration just for him. No balloons, no confetti, no cheers or reassuring gestures. Not even the smallest bit of uplifting cheer. (Xigbar, though, had offered his complements by teleporting above him to see if he’d make good target practice.)

It wasn’t that the lack of hearts would hinder on the festive. Despite that emptiness in his chest there were still his memories that he was able to hang on to. Like the time when Myde had decided to throw a crazy party just because he made it partway through the school week; heck, he felt like throwing his arms in the air this instant and screaming at the top of his lungs. But the Organization members just shook their heads at him and his false hope and retreated back to their duties.

No, it wasn’t the kind welcome he had in mind at all.

So he set out to learn why each of the members were behaving specifically as they were.
It didn’t take him that long with his mad detective skills at his side.

Out of the original six he found Lexaeus to be the kindest. It was an odd truth, considering that he didn’t talk much and Demyx thought he would shove him into the nearest thing that resembled a locker; especially since when he first knocked on the older Nobody’s door Lexaeus was covered in a sheen of sweat with all those gigantic muscles pointedly staring at Demyx like he was their new karate chopping punching bag.

But Lexaeus only gave him a smile and opened the door wider, ushering him over to a rack of lesser weights for him to experiment on. It was to Demyx’s embarrassment that he could barely steady one of the weights over his head. Lexaeus, however, surprised him by elevating the sitar player over his standard height one-handed -save that it led to a momentarily exhilaration as Demyx quickly burst into a squealing fit, the weight he was still holding shifting and toppling him over to one side of the one-hand pedestal.

He made sure to return every now and then to show that dumbbell who the real boss was.

Axel made number one on his list of sociability, giving him a proper insight to each of the members and what to watch out for. Despite their elemental differences they got along great. And Demyx especially made sure to be somewhere nearby during one of Axel’s crossword fits to put out any unnecessary fires.

The Cloaked Schemer was the next to come close to mild friendliness. Upon entering his grounds it came to him almost immediately that Zexion reminded him of a flat cola; it just wasn’t good enough without the fizz. And when he tried bringing that effervescence back into his non-life he got a kick to the stomach and a door slammed in his face. A more lenient fate than what the remainder of the Organization would sick on him.

Once such fate from the aforementioned association being Saix, who, after Demyx spent much of a week observing his door without any success of opening, did not like to have any contact with objects not resembling the tiny heart shaped moon right outside the castle.

Never in Myde’s life or his just recent non-existence did he ever scream as loud as he had that day he decided to venture into the berserker’s room.

Next on the list was Xigbar, who’s first impression of him remained fresh in his mind whenever he ventured outside of his quarters. Demyx found his boisterous laughs off-putting by the fact that his gun arrows were likely to be armed, but that accent of his always had a natural affinity to make him burst out laughing regardless of it being a dead-serious conversation.

From there he realized that Xaldin made a good, quieter version of the Sharpshooter, if that was even possible. He even made him run away in the same fashion: screams and rapid dodging.

That left Vexen, aside from the Superior who he knew to be as a steadfast leader. It didn’t take him that long to get bored with the Chilly Academic’s endless warnings and take things into his own hands -literally.

It was from then on that he and Zexion spent more time together. Vexen had assigned the other Nobody to keep Demyx out of the way anytime he went near the experimental-potion filled lab.

Once he had finished with his investigation he was left to find various ways to entertain himself. That being painting the walls, playing his sitar, cooking, bothering the other Organization members again, continue his goal of defeating the dumbbell, and running away from Xigbar. There was one day, however, when he got news of an event that made him grin ear-to-ear:

Another member had arrived.

It was the best news he had heard at all, made him dance all around the kitchen floor until he realized he had to get his one-man celebration ready. It was up to him, after all; the other members would only ruin it with their sombre moods and he had enough cheer in himself to make up for it.

He had rushed up to his room immediately and gathered an armful of necessary supplies he had collected in his minuscule missions (courteous of Xemnas’s observation of his less than standard inexperience): Makeshift party hats, confetti and a sign he had made just for this day. He teleported right down to the entrance of the castle and fought his way through the other Nobodies. Then spreading his arms wide open and releasing a great number of aforementioned colored paper into the air while dancing around in glee.

“Welcome to the Organization -the Superior probably told you all about it like he did with me but you’ll still need to look around and see how things are for yourself. I’m number nine, Demyx, and I know you’re number ten because you just came here and all but I still don’t know your name. Oh, by the way, I made you this sign ‘cause I thought it’d be nice and all but if you don’t want to wear it that’s fine with me. If you want I can show you to your room since mostly everyone here is really boring and Axel was the only one nice enough to do it for me when I came here. Am I bothering you in any way ‘cause everyone else usually thinks I’m annoying so just let me know, ok?”

Somewhere in the midst of Demyx’s long-winded speech had the other Organization members teleported away to leave the sitar player to show the newest addition around.
Furthermore, the blond had also bowed his head and stuck out both arms to reveal the sign he had made just for the Nobody standing before him. He remained there for moments that felt like aeons, wondering if number ten abhorred him already. And if he did, then what he would be left to do now that he was the only member left to do something..

What he didn’t realize that number ten was temporarily trapped in a fixed position and his eyes had gone just a little wide to show his surprise of Demyx’s verbal capacity; however, as soon as he had snapped out of it he smiled just as big as Demyx would at the prospect of picking up an edible treat during a mission. Then came a chuckle, and pretty soon he was reaching forward and lifting the sign out of Demyx’s dainty fingertips.

The sign was nicely crafted, made out of cardboard and decorated with glitter and ink drawings of stars, hearts, flowers and happy faces. In the center, brought into two lines, were separately glued on cut-outs of ‘Number 10’. There was a small white string that connected both top ends together to act as a makeshift chain.

“This is very thoughtful, thank you -Demyx, was it? You’re rather a loquacious sort.”

Demyx popped his head right up, an eyebrow travelling right up to his hairline. “Loquacious? What does that mean?”

The small movements of his body language seemed to fit perfectly to Demyx’s childlike persona and it made number ten burst into another chuckle. “It means you speak quite a lot. Oh, where are my manners!” He stuck out his hand, waiting for Demyx to shyly stick his out in return to the greeting. “My name is Rudol. A pleasure to meet you Demyx.”

Instead of getting the corresponding welcome in return, Demyx gasped and started to bounce lightly on his front toes. “Xemnas hasn’t told you yet, has he? I mean the…the lack of hearts and stuff?”

The other Nobody sighed, nodding his head in agreement. “He has, actually. The whole claim of not being who I once was before. It’s rather…disheartening.” By the time his hand had grasped the area where the hole in his chest resided had he realized the full extent of his statement and gave a little laugh.

But Demyx didn’t take it the same way. He continued to panic on the balls of his feet until he stopped, gasping at his own brilliance. “I know!” he cried, reaching over to the sign and placing it over number ten’s head. It managed to fit right over the top of his chest thanks to the small length of the string. “There! I know it’s not really the same thing but this can be your heart for awhile!” Demyx giggled, spreading his arms out wide and dancing around in circles.

The gesture hit Rudol hard. He remained rooted in place momentarily, slowly bringing himself out of the quiet shock and placing a hand over his handmade heart. He looked up, giving Demyx a warm smile. “Thank you, Demyx. Thank you for giving me a heart.”

The Melodious Nocturne only rocked back on his heels, arms folded behind him and a flushed grin on his face. “No problem!” he replied gleefully. He reached out, grabbing onto the Nobody’s hand. “Come on! I’ll show you to your room!” He paused opening a portal in front of him and startling the other member with a slight jump.
“You do know how to teleport and stuff, right? Or do you need some help getting that started?”

Number ten stared at him for a bit, not quite knowing how to answer that. “I’ll…need your help with that, I suppose.”

Demyx all but cheered. “Great! But first we need to get started on your name. Now that you’re in the Organization you need to switch all the letters around and add an ‘x’ somewhere in it.”

The other Nobody titled his head slightly at the blond’s interpretation, an eyebrow raised to relate. “An anagram of sorts? That Xemnas fellow did mention something about that. Very well, then.” He paused, looking at the dark portal cautiously. “Nothing bad will happen once we go in there, right?”

Demyx laughed, dragging him forward. “Don’t worry. This’ll just take you up to your room. Nothing to be afraid of.”

Number ten laughed warily, not having much choice in the manner. “…Right.”

~

It was a few weeks later that found Demyx alone in a large hall. He was seated on a table situated on the far side of the door, strumming his sitar to produce a cordial rhythm. Before him were his water clones dancing in pairs, every one of them gyrating around the hall in quick steps.

It was in times like these that Demyx wished he were near real people and playing a real effulgence of music instead of just pretending with his one-man band; his imitations could only do so much.

He was interrupted from his musing when the large door across from him had opened. Demyx shot his head up, fingers faltering and prompting his clones to fall apart in multitudinous tendrils of liquid. Luxord had glanced around the expanse of the room, eyes finally settling on Demyx and heaving a great sigh. He quickly entered the area, walking on the imaginary red carpet as he made his way over to the younger blond.

“Demyx, you and solitude don’t seem to make a very good combination,” Luxord said, still on his path to the other.

Demyx bowed his head, a light blush on his cheeks. He readjusted his sitar in his lap off to one side. “I was just practicing,” he paused, glancing up as a thought occurred to him. “Does Xemnas need me for something?”

“Do you think that’s the only plausible reason why I’d come find you?” Luxord replied, eyebrow raised and stopping by the Melodious Nocturne with crossed arms. He shook his head. “You and alone really don’t go well together. Where’s that spirited young boy I’m so used to?”

The blond pouted. “I’m not that young!” he cried in indignation. “I happen to be nineteen for your information!”

“In body, yes, but in mind you behave so much like an eight year old,” Luxord replied with a smile. Demyx pouted, at once commanding the still floating tendrils of water to soak the other Nobody with a wave of his hand. Luxord came out spluttering, wiping away the water from his face and trying unsuccessfully to shake it off his clothing. “Hey, do you want me to catch a cold?!”

The sitar player huffed. “Well it serves you right!”

Luxord began laughing. “If you want to think up a better comeback I suggest not dousing your enemies with a bit of water,” he lectured. “Take me for example, I make daring battles into a game. I am the Gambler of Fate, after all.”

“You’re just really good at playing cards,” Demyx countered. He stood up on the table, arming his sitar and pointed at the other Nobody defiantly. “Alright then, if you’re Mr. Know-it-all then lets see you deal with this: Defeat a hundred of my water clones in thirty seconds, and if I win you have to leave me alone!”

Challenge set, Luxord had no time to mention what he would get in return for winning as the Melodious Nocturne began strumming out a quick solo. Scores of clones instantly began materializing around the gambler with their sitars drawn threateningly. Luxord quickly reached into his coat pocket and drew out his cards, sending them out into the surroundings to enlarge and slice through the various clones. The gambler himself was wrestling with the liquid copies and shoving them into each other, ducking every so often when a stray sitar flew his way.

With fifty-two powered up cards backing up the gambler, he won in no time at all. In his anger, Demyx struck hard on the strings, summoning a tidal wave to wash the other Nobody away. Luxord acted quickly, teleporting himself away from harm and over to the sitar player, knocking them both down to the floor. Demyx struggled vigorously, lashing out with his limbs violently. But Luxord held him fast, acting very much like a human paper weight.

Finally, the Nocturne calmed. Luxord chanced an upward glance at the Nobody he was sprawled over, deciding to release his hold a bit. “If you fought like that more often I’d bet you’d make a better fighter than the others,” he deliberated. “You just need to structure your force more calmly.”

The younger blond sighed, a defeated look on his face. “Get off me,” he muttered quietly.

Luxord only held on. “You’re still upset about the card game, aren’t you?” he thought carefully. When Demyx didn’t reply he groaned, laying his head down beside the other’s. “It was just a game, Demyx. There’s no need to fret over it!”

“You didn’t tell me how good you were at cards!” Demyx snapped back. “You didn’t tell me that it’d be so hard to play! You didn’t tell me you’d have to strip in that damn game! The next time I get sent out on a mission I might as well report you to Gamblers Anonymous!”

Demyx, of course, was talking about a game of strip poker that had happened a few days past. He happened to walk in on the gambler and the others during play and Luxord had offered a seat for him. He had agreed, believing it to be just for fun and deciding that it was an opportune time for Demyx to brush up on Myde’s knowledge of the game.

He had realized too late what he had gotten himself into when the others drew out their socks to throw in the center of the table. He had stayed, however, trying to prove himself until Luxord brought out his gambling abilities and blew them all away.

A few rounds later, Demyx was left with his pants covering his dignity and the mocking laughter from the others as they waited for him to give up the article. He quickly teleported away and had been in hiding since the game, going from his room, to the city or to any other vacant space in the castle.

Luxord was distraught. The last thing he had wanted was to make a bad impression on the boy who gave him a heart. “At least I retrieved you clothing,” he muttered pathetically. “And I had told the others to stop with their insistent laughing.” Demyx stayed quiet, not giving in to the gambler’s confessions. “Please Demyx, I’m sorry -I mean it. If you want to kick me in the groin or have me drown in a pool of water then go ahead, I deserve it.”

There, he had said his apologies. As long as the other didn’t hate him he would gladly leave his possible torturous fate in his hands.

Demyx hadn’t strayed from his silent position throughout Luxord’s declaration. The Nocturne stayed quiet for a few moments longer, finally closed his eyes and heaving out a sigh. “Though kicking you in the groin would probably be a good thing, it’s a bit much. Besides,” he added slowly, “It wouldn’t be a very nice thing to do.”

“Does that mean you forgive me?” Luxord dared.

“…Yeah,” Demyx answered. “You’re kind of getting me wet, too, so get off.”

“Right away, Demyx.” He reached over, giving the blond a quick kiss on the cheek and heaved himself up. The sitar player blushed, accepting the hand that was offered down to him and stood up.

“There was another think I wanted to tell you,” Luxord said as the two made their way to the door. Demyx looked over at him, listening, and the gambler took that as his cue to continue. “Xaldin’s gotten rather tired of cooking again in your absence. He’s been…stabbing the others quite significantly if they disturb his concentration. We can’t teleport in to grab a snack anymore unless his spears will hunt us down. You have to do something!”

Demyx smirked, actually finding himself in a position of control for once. “I want everyone there -I want them to give a meaningful apology and know how valuable I am to them.” He stopped, turning to face Luxord and the soggy mess that made up his clothing. “But first, you need a wardrobe change.” He grinned, his mood instantly brightened, and summoned up a portal.

Luxord gave a small laugh. “Just get behind me if they go to far with their grovelling. I don’t want you covered with sloppy kisses or anything of the sort.”

The Nocturne rolled his eyes. “Of course, you of all Nobodies would hate that,” he laughed.

Luxord grinned in reply. He allowed the other Nobody to enjoy his laugh momentarily before gathering up his strength and tackling Demyx into the portal beyond. The younger blond g a loud squeak in surprise.

Also by Miss. Roseshadow

napshot

Pence was not a stalker. Stalkers were people who had super secret ninja skills and spied on their prey hungrily. Stalkers were people who inappropriately shower someone with unwanted attention. Stalkers were another form of Peeping Toms who hung out under someone’s bathroom with a digitally enhanced super clicking camera firing away at said person.
Pence wasn’t a stalker. He questioned, he snooped, he hid in treetops and became one with the dirt. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to find out the truth behind truths!
Above all, he was just a normal, curious boy with some journalism skills.

“Oh my God, Pence, are you at it again? Why don’t you just go up to his door and talk to him like any other normal person instead of checking him out from his window, you pervert!”

Pence waved an impatient hand at Olette from his perch in a tree, eyes still locked into place on the sleeping figure in the bedroom across from him. The man had his back to Pence, silver hair splaying out across the pillows for the dark haired adolescent to admire greedily. The man eventually rolled over, showing his tan face pouting in his sleep. Pence gasped, dropping his binoculars and dragging out his camera to zoom in take the picture. Olette huffed underneath him, and he finally tore his eyes away from his beauty to acknowledge her presence.

“Eh, yeah? Didja need something?” he questioned intelligently.

Olette crossed her arms, looking up at the other boy disapprovingly. “Roxas was looking for you, said it was important.”

“Oh…yeah. Comin’,” he mumbled, lifting up the binoculars again to spy on the occupant of the house across from him.

Olette seethed at the lack of attention. “Pence,” she hissed, “if you ever grow up and be one those creepy, old guys who goes after little kids I will personally carve your eyes out with a fork!”

Pence gave an incomprehensible mumble to show he responded to whatever she had just said. Her full meaning hit him a few moments later and he pointedly replied with: “I think you mean spoon.”

A moment of silence. A silver strand of hair fell onto the other man’s lips and Pence gasped again, reaching for his camera. He took the picture, pausing in confusion when he heard something akin to a kettle boiling and looked around for the source of the noise.

“Hey, Olette, do you hear that?” he asked, still searching for the sound. There wasn’t a reply. “Olette? Olette, are you listening? Hey -”

He stopped dead. Below him Olette was red faced and hissing like a volcano about to erupt. He gestured wildly with his hands. “No, no! Nooo, Olette, please! You’ll wake him up -don’t! Oh God no! I’m sorry if I said something wrong, but please Olette, whatever you do, do not scream!”

That did it. Olette became even redder, if that was possible, and opened her mouth with a deep breath…

“You have to be the most self-centered idiot you stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid -AH! You’re even worse than Seifer -at least he holds the door open for me -and you -you don’t even care or anything! You’re such a jackass you pervert! And I will carve your eyes out with a fork or a spoon or -I’ll even use my nails if I have to! I try to do one nice thing and come and get you and all you do is ignore me and stare at that guy! Well, screw you and your stupid fetish you stupid, sick pervert! Don’t you ever come back to the hangout -and that couch is mine!”

Olette gave one last undignified huff and stomped away from the boy in the tree. Pence, heart beating frantically after the outburst, quickly turned his head back to the window -

And toppled over backwards when he met up with piercing yellow ones.

~

After Pence’s encounter with the tan beauty he had ran away with his metaphorical tail between his legs. Then, after spending some much needed time sitting down and stuffing the contents of his water bottle down his throat, he decided to go find Roxas.

He thought to check at the hangout, but Olette happened to be there seething out plans of his demise to the others. So he headed over to the blond’s house instead and knocked on his door. Axel answered a moment later, unsurprisingly; it was rare to see one of them without the other somewhere nearby.

“Hey Axel, Roxas wanted me for something?” he greeted.

Axel looked at him up and down. “What happened to you?”

Axel was referring to the fact that Pence was still flushed from the sighting and running away that quickly -man, was he out of shape. No thanks to his sedentary lifestyle and unlimited stock of sea salt ice cream. Besides Olette, there wasn’t anyone else that knew about his…pastime. And so, as any other would do in a similar predicament, he came up with the first that came to mind. “I was just….really eager to help out. That’s all!” he grinned.

The red head raised a delicate eyebrow. “…Right. Anyway, we have job for you. Roxas is sick and won’t be able to deliver the paper tomorrow. That’s where you come in. Think you’re up for it?”

Pence shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. But didn’t you ask Hayner first? Or, better yet, why don‘t you go?”

“You think I’ll leave poor Roxas all by his lonesome? Hell no, what if he wakes up and wants some soup -just who will be there to tend to his every beck and call? Oh, and Hayner said he was busy, so you’re the lucky winner,” Axel grinned. He reached behind him to grab a sheet of paper and handed it to Pence. “That’s the route blondie takes. Come here around six tomorrow and I’ll have everything packed to go. All you have to do is jog your pudgy self around before seven and everything will be a-ok.” He tapped his head carefully. “Got it memorized?”

“Hey, I am not pudgy!” Pence cried in indignation. Axel only laughed and shut the door, calling out a muffled ‘see ya pudgy’ in return.

Conversation over, Pence folded the paper with the route into his pocket and headed off to find something else to do.

~

It wasn’t everyday for Xemnas to wake up to a girl PMSing outside his window. It also wasn’t normal to wake up and find someone hanging on a tree across from him ogling him with binoculars.

So when the boy disappeared from his view he decided to go down and observe the area just in case there were any hidden cameras or microphones watching his every move. No such dramatic or intensive device was found. Unless he counted the abandoned digital camera he found by the tree the boy had been on.

He went about studying its contents back inside with his coffee and newspaper -things he just could not start a day without. He took a sip of the black liquid, settling back into his chair after finally figuring out how to work the damn technology and searched through it.

A group of teenagers playing; isolated photos of said adolescents -that red head seemed familiar somehow. He scrolled through a few of them before coming across a large collection of himself. Many of them consisted of him sleeping in awkward to serene positions -why the hell was his a** in the air like that. There were some of him wandering around Twilight Town, some enjoying sea salt ice cream -it looked like he was having oral sex with it. It just kept going, picture after picture after picture with him as the star.

He took another sip of coffee. Looks like he had a stalker himself for a change.

~

When Pence had gone to his room for the day he realized he was missing one key object that held his fruits of labour and that defined his character at a glance: His camera. He went into a full ten minute panic about what could have happened to it, or who could have found his treasure -oh, no no no! If anyone found about his…pastime he would be dead. Dead, and forever in debt to the finder in order to keep their mouth shut.

And though he’d love to run out and search frantically in the dark, he’d be too tired to keep his word to Roxas and end up falling over somewhere with little kids poking him with sticks. So, he went to bed with a heavy heart and slept until it was time to deliver the newspapers for Roxas.

Axel had left a note on the carrier bag when he arrived, a simple ‘Thanks pudgy’ scrawled on it. He frowned deeply, mumbling a, “I’m not pudgy you damn red head,” and headed off on his journey.

The bag wasn’t that heavy, but at first he was reduced to waddling around from door to door until he could settle into an ordinary walking pace. The trip took him much of the hour but he managed to make it in time. He looked down at the sheet Axel had handed him to find the last house left and froze. He shook his head, wondering if it was just a trick of the eyes and looked again. But the address was still there:

‘1301 Seeker Lane’.

Pence started and let out a low whine. Of all the people who read the news why did Xemnas have to?

He took a deep breath and resigned himself to his fate, feet walking slowly up to the silver haired man’s doorstep. It felt weird going along this path when he was so used to hopping the fence and climbing up that one tree. He dragged out the last newspaper and delicately placed into the mailbox.

Or at least, he tried to. The door opened and out came Xemnas, pausing to stare at him intently before stating, “You’re that boy.”

Pence immediately starting sweating. “Uh…”

“It’s too quiet,” he explained. “That blond and red head normally gratify themselves on my door to get me up. You also took longer. I hate waiting so long for the paper.” He snatched the aforementioned information package out of the dark boy’s hands and held it under his arm. Pence continued to stay frozen throughout the one-man conversation and Xemnas barely raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re very skilled with a camera,” he continued. “I’d like to see some more of your work if that’s alright. Come by around four if you’re interested. Right now, I’d like to enjoy my paper and coffee. Goodbye.”

The door closed. Pence stayed there for a period of five minutes before he realized what had happened.

He also realized that he forgot to ask for his camera back.

Submission by ladrogueverte on Page 6



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