Out, Out Brief Candle - Axel - R
Title: Out, Out Brief Candle
Fandom: KH2/CoM
Rating: HIGH
Word count: 947
Disclaimer: Disney, Square Enix, and Nomura own all.
Summary: Based on the Macbeth speech. Axel reflects on all aspects of life, and death.
Warnings: death fic. ;-; also, abuse of Shakespeare.
Signifying nothing.
They’re all just actors. They don’t really feel anymore, but things still happen and they jangle and rattle against memories of things that happened before and shake up memories of feelings, but no real feelings behind them. They’re all just reciting lines at each other and angrily acting out the blocking for this scene, then that one, then the close of an act, opening. Exposition. Rising Action. Climax. Resolution. They walk away no more real than they started.
Full of sound and fury
He’s noisy, but not because he is noisy, but because this dead man was once noisy and so he is noisy. He is angry and sarcastic and so damn cold to others that it burns them. He lights things on fire for fun. He toys with people for his personal entertainment, not just because rooting and burning out treachery is his job.
Told by an idiot
“Xemnas is clearly an idiot,” Larxene says. She is frustrated. But not because she is actually frustrated, even that is really beyond her. Similar circumstances would have stymied her Other and now they make Larxene act like she feels enclosed, trapped and is ready to lash out and latch onto whatever comes along that seems more appealing. Marluxia is also an idiot. He sees very little difference between the two.
It is a tale
Zexion has a book. Xemnas has a whole library of books. He knows that all the philosophers who do have hearts also have books. He has no idea if all these books all the said the same thing, but the boy and the duck and the dog all came like they all said. So maybe they did. To be honest, he thought the story was kind of ridiculous. The person he’d been would never have even bought all this stuff about hearts if he hadn’t had his own ripped out by an explosive red Heartless.
And then is heard no more.
He found the feeling of tearing through Vexen’s existence so, so satisfying. And feeling the rest of them fading out and leaving only him to flee the castle, that made him feel amazing. He really is a terribly dark person, or was. It was all very confusing, really. Gave him a headache to refer to himself without the present tense. But it was true, he didn’t exist. He had existed, at some point, but he no longer did. He no longer felt, no longer breathed, no longer was. Roxas goes missing, then, and that thrilled feeling dissipates like so much smoke. Thirteen is down to seven, and the emptiness is getting worse.
His hour upon the stage
He tells them that he will most certainly hunt down Roxas to the ends of the world and destroy him. He’s only acting, but how can they tell that he’s changed the script. Whoever expects the double agent to be working for himself after all? Everyone should, of course, but they never do. His Other knew that, so he knows that. But his Other never…
That struts and frets
He’s been kicked out. He’s having to chase a whole being, a boy he doesn’t even like very much or find very compelling at all all over the known universe. He is acting out annoyance, irritation, anger. Rage. He is going to tear out the keyblade master’s heart and he’s going to come very, very close to enjoying it. Saïx is on his tail, taking his place as the Organization’s hand of justice. If he can just… If he can just… Then it will be okay and he will be able to handle this, manipulate the situation to his advantage just like he has every other time.
A poor player
The bait sees right through him. The little bitch. He knows she’s a princess, but he likes Naminé a great deal more. With these freaks of the natural order, he prefers the versions that are not supposed to exist. Roxas is graceful and determined and his smiles are something special instead of something common and base. Naminé is quiet and clever and deeply intuitive. They are tricky, sideways, and he prefers that every time to something which is straightforward. He tried his best to win her sympathy. He didn’t even lie. But she sees that he’s just an actor, just reciting lines.
Life's but a walking shadow
It's no accident, because there are no accidents. He's been following the keyblade master. He's been skulking here, thinking. He can't feel, but he has all too much time to think. And of course the moment the keyblade master is in total darkness he'll get attacked by every creature in the Corridors. As said, there are no accidents. The keyblade master, then, is the one light in all that darkness. It throws him off, but he's still certain, he misses the shadow that keyblade master cast. But without a light, there is no shadow.
Out, out brief candle
Axel knows, there, that he's near his limits and it only makes sense to push them. Bangs, not whimpers, right? So there's that last brightest flame and then... Then. He isn't burning alive. Axel's been burning and dead for a while now. Now, he's not burning. Axel's fading, guttering. Run out of fuel to burn, oil, wax, will power, whatever it is that he's been making a half-life out of all this time. He's got a lot of things to fit into one last speech, things Axel wants Roxas to be be able to hear, someone to be able to hear. But, really, it's more important that the keyblade master go do what it is he does, right? So go. Go!
Companion to Signifying Nothing
Fandom: KH2/CoM
Rating: HIGH
Word count: 947
Disclaimer: Disney, Square Enix, and Nomura own all.
Summary: Based on the Macbeth speech. Axel reflects on all aspects of life, and death.
Warnings: death fic. ;-; also, abuse of Shakespeare.
Signifying nothing.
They’re all just actors. They don’t really feel anymore, but things still happen and they jangle and rattle against memories of things that happened before and shake up memories of feelings, but no real feelings behind them. They’re all just reciting lines at each other and angrily acting out the blocking for this scene, then that one, then the close of an act, opening. Exposition. Rising Action. Climax. Resolution. They walk away no more real than they started.
Full of sound and fury
He’s noisy, but not because he is noisy, but because this dead man was once noisy and so he is noisy. He is angry and sarcastic and so damn cold to others that it burns them. He lights things on fire for fun. He toys with people for his personal entertainment, not just because rooting and burning out treachery is his job.
Told by an idiot
“Xemnas is clearly an idiot,” Larxene says. She is frustrated. But not because she is actually frustrated, even that is really beyond her. Similar circumstances would have stymied her Other and now they make Larxene act like she feels enclosed, trapped and is ready to lash out and latch onto whatever comes along that seems more appealing. Marluxia is also an idiot. He sees very little difference between the two.
It is a tale
Zexion has a book. Xemnas has a whole library of books. He knows that all the philosophers who do have hearts also have books. He has no idea if all these books all the said the same thing, but the boy and the duck and the dog all came like they all said. So maybe they did. To be honest, he thought the story was kind of ridiculous. The person he’d been would never have even bought all this stuff about hearts if he hadn’t had his own ripped out by an explosive red Heartless.
And then is heard no more.
He found the feeling of tearing through Vexen’s existence so, so satisfying. And feeling the rest of them fading out and leaving only him to flee the castle, that made him feel amazing. He really is a terribly dark person, or was. It was all very confusing, really. Gave him a headache to refer to himself without the present tense. But it was true, he didn’t exist. He had existed, at some point, but he no longer did. He no longer felt, no longer breathed, no longer was. Roxas goes missing, then, and that thrilled feeling dissipates like so much smoke. Thirteen is down to seven, and the emptiness is getting worse.
His hour upon the stage
He tells them that he will most certainly hunt down Roxas to the ends of the world and destroy him. He’s only acting, but how can they tell that he’s changed the script. Whoever expects the double agent to be working for himself after all? Everyone should, of course, but they never do. His Other knew that, so he knows that. But his Other never…
That struts and frets
He’s been kicked out. He’s having to chase a whole being, a boy he doesn’t even like very much or find very compelling at all all over the known universe. He is acting out annoyance, irritation, anger. Rage. He is going to tear out the keyblade master’s heart and he’s going to come very, very close to enjoying it. Saïx is on his tail, taking his place as the Organization’s hand of justice. If he can just… If he can just… Then it will be okay and he will be able to handle this, manipulate the situation to his advantage just like he has every other time.
A poor player
The bait sees right through him. The little bitch. He knows she’s a princess, but he likes Naminé a great deal more. With these freaks of the natural order, he prefers the versions that are not supposed to exist. Roxas is graceful and determined and his smiles are something special instead of something common and base. Naminé is quiet and clever and deeply intuitive. They are tricky, sideways, and he prefers that every time to something which is straightforward. He tried his best to win her sympathy. He didn’t even lie. But she sees that he’s just an actor, just reciting lines.
Life's but a walking shadow
It's no accident, because there are no accidents. He's been following the keyblade master. He's been skulking here, thinking. He can't feel, but he has all too much time to think. And of course the moment the keyblade master is in total darkness he'll get attacked by every creature in the Corridors. As said, there are no accidents. The keyblade master, then, is the one light in all that darkness. It throws him off, but he's still certain, he misses the shadow that keyblade master cast. But without a light, there is no shadow.
Out, out brief candle
Axel knows, there, that he's near his limits and it only makes sense to push them. Bangs, not whimpers, right? So there's that last brightest flame and then... Then. He isn't burning alive. Axel's been burning and dead for a while now. Now, he's not burning. Axel's fading, guttering. Run out of fuel to burn, oil, wax, will power, whatever it is that he's been making a half-life out of all this time. He's got a lot of things to fit into one last speech, things Axel wants Roxas to be be able to hear, someone to be able to hear. But, really, it's more important that the keyblade master go do what it is he does, right? So go. Go!
Companion to Signifying Nothing