Fic: "Nice To Know Me" (Larxene, Darkness #4 - Knowledge)
Title: Nice To Know Me
Author:
doomweasel
Claim: Larxene
Characters: Larxene, a little Demyx
Theme Set: Darkness
Theme: #4 - Knowledge
Rating: PG for nudity, nothing sexual
Disclaimer: I own the game, not the characters
A/N: This takes place when Larxene is first brought in to the Organization. Just for reference, this story occurs about three days before my other fic, Proof of Existence.
The rooms were disappointingly bare. When Larxene had first been brought into the castle of the World that Never Was, she had been expecting dark, neo-Gothic opulence - like Dracula's lair. Instead, there was a lot of gray and very little else. She ran her fingers along the white, empty bookshelves and sat down on the low bed. It was neither uncomfortable or comfortable; she should have expected as much.
“This room and the next one are yours,” Demyx explained, pointing to the adjoining door. “That coat on the bed there is for you, too. It's just like mine - pretty snazzy, huh?”
Larxene grabbed the folded leather coat and held it up at arm's length. “So what is this - some kind of uniform or something?"
“Uh... yeah, kinda. Don't you like it?”
If she were her old self - her complete self - Larxene knew she would have thought the outfit was tacky and contrived. But this new, hollow version of herself didn't really care. She shrugged. “Whatever. As long as it fits.”
Demyx grinned, as though relieved. “Great! Well...” He rubbed his gloved hands together. “I'll see you around?” Larxene nodded. “Cool!” A dark portal opened up behind Demyx. He turned to enter it, then paused and looked back at Larxene. “Oh yeah - I know this sounds totally corny, but... welcome to the Organization, Larxene!” With a final wave, Demyx slipped into the darkness, leaving Larxene alone.
For several long minutes, Larxene sat, unmoving, on the edge of the bed. Finally, as if awaking from a deep sleep, she stood and walked over to a full-length mirror across the room, her Organization coat tucked under one arm. She stared at her reflection; a slim, blond-haired stranger with cold blue eyes stared back. She'd better get to know her better. “Larxene...” she whispered. “My name is...”
She shook her head. This isn't me, she thought.
Even now her old self-image was fading away, but she still knew that the body she currently inhabited wasn't really hers. Her hair should be darker, longer... her face rounder, her body fuller... The girl in the mirror seemed like a pale waif - albeit a mean-looking one - compared to what she remembered of her old self.
Still, I'm stuck with it. Larxene knew that with as much certainty as she knew her body had changed. She glanced down at the leather coat. If she was going to get to know this new body of hers, she figured, she might as well get started.
She slung the coat over the back of a nearby chair and, after a moment's pause, pulled off her shirt in one smooth motion. Next she removed her pants, stepped out of them and left them in a small pile on the floor. Her clothes meant nothing to her; when she'd first gained consciousness she'd been completely naked, and she'd merely put on whatever she could find nearby.
Nude once again, Larxene straightened and looked at her new body in the mirror for the first time. She drank in every detail she could find, committing everything to memory, eager to learn about her new form. Her breasts were small and firm, her arms and legs toned but not too muscular. She spread her arms out, then raised them above her head, watching her muscles flex and ripple beneath her pale skin with fascination. It was like wearing new shoes that were the right size but hadn't yet formed to fit one's feet - her body wasn't uncomfortable, exactly, but it was new. It wasn't yet used to moving.
Larxene turned to the side to see her body in profile, smiling slightly with approval at the sight of her bottom. Not a bad - not bad at all. If she ever met her real self on the street, her real self probably would be attracted to Larxene, but she felt nothing more than a vague sense of satisfaction. She may not have a heart, but at least she had a tight ass. As if it mattered anymore.
She ran a hand through her hair, which was a little shorter than she was used to but more convenient, and glanced over her shoulder at the Organization coat. Somewhat reluctantly, she padded over to it and held it up against her body so she could get a feel for what it looked like without actually putting it on. It looks like something out of a sci-fi movie, she thought, one eyebrow raising skeptically.
Who came up with this outfit, anyway?
Shrugging, Larxene unzipped the coat and slipped it on. The leather was cold against her skin, but she didn't mind it. She'd wear clothes underneath from now on, anyway. The metal beads on the hood-strings clanked together as she zipped it back up, adjusted it, and put on the accompanying necklace and black gloves. When she was done, she looked at her reflection once again.
She wasn't sure why, but now that the coat was on, it seemed... right. She still felt that horrible void in her chest, that persistent, nagging feeling that something important was missing, but now she felt a little more at ease in her skin. The longer she stared at the person in the mirror, the more she forgot what she used to look like, who she used to be. All of it - all of what happened before, seemed insignificant. The past was irrelevant; what mattered was now.
Time to introduce herself again. Larxene tossed her head and said, “My name is...” No, that wasn't quite right. Try again.
“I am Larxene.”
The Nobody in the mirror grinned back maliciously, like a hungry fox. Nice to know you, she replied.
Author:
doomweasel
Claim: Larxene
Characters: Larxene, a little Demyx
Theme Set: Darkness
Theme: #4 - Knowledge
Rating: PG for nudity, nothing sexual
Disclaimer: I own the game, not the characters
A/N: This takes place when Larxene is first brought in to the Organization. Just for reference, this story occurs about three days before my other fic, Proof of Existence.
The rooms were disappointingly bare. When Larxene had first been brought into the castle of the World that Never Was, she had been expecting dark, neo-Gothic opulence - like Dracula's lair. Instead, there was a lot of gray and very little else. She ran her fingers along the white, empty bookshelves and sat down on the low bed. It was neither uncomfortable or comfortable; she should have expected as much.
“This room and the next one are yours,” Demyx explained, pointing to the adjoining door. “That coat on the bed there is for you, too. It's just like mine - pretty snazzy, huh?”
Larxene grabbed the folded leather coat and held it up at arm's length. “So what is this - some kind of uniform or something?"
“Uh... yeah, kinda. Don't you like it?”
If she were her old self - her complete self - Larxene knew she would have thought the outfit was tacky and contrived. But this new, hollow version of herself didn't really care. She shrugged. “Whatever. As long as it fits.”
Demyx grinned, as though relieved. “Great! Well...” He rubbed his gloved hands together. “I'll see you around?” Larxene nodded. “Cool!” A dark portal opened up behind Demyx. He turned to enter it, then paused and looked back at Larxene. “Oh yeah - I know this sounds totally corny, but... welcome to the Organization, Larxene!” With a final wave, Demyx slipped into the darkness, leaving Larxene alone.
For several long minutes, Larxene sat, unmoving, on the edge of the bed. Finally, as if awaking from a deep sleep, she stood and walked over to a full-length mirror across the room, her Organization coat tucked under one arm. She stared at her reflection; a slim, blond-haired stranger with cold blue eyes stared back. She'd better get to know her better. “Larxene...” she whispered. “My name is...”
She shook her head. This isn't me, she thought.
Even now her old self-image was fading away, but she still knew that the body she currently inhabited wasn't really hers. Her hair should be darker, longer... her face rounder, her body fuller... The girl in the mirror seemed like a pale waif - albeit a mean-looking one - compared to what she remembered of her old self.
Still, I'm stuck with it. Larxene knew that with as much certainty as she knew her body had changed. She glanced down at the leather coat. If she was going to get to know this new body of hers, she figured, she might as well get started.
She slung the coat over the back of a nearby chair and, after a moment's pause, pulled off her shirt in one smooth motion. Next she removed her pants, stepped out of them and left them in a small pile on the floor. Her clothes meant nothing to her; when she'd first gained consciousness she'd been completely naked, and she'd merely put on whatever she could find nearby.
Nude once again, Larxene straightened and looked at her new body in the mirror for the first time. She drank in every detail she could find, committing everything to memory, eager to learn about her new form. Her breasts were small and firm, her arms and legs toned but not too muscular. She spread her arms out, then raised them above her head, watching her muscles flex and ripple beneath her pale skin with fascination. It was like wearing new shoes that were the right size but hadn't yet formed to fit one's feet - her body wasn't uncomfortable, exactly, but it was new. It wasn't yet used to moving.
Larxene turned to the side to see her body in profile, smiling slightly with approval at the sight of her bottom. Not a bad - not bad at all. If she ever met her real self on the street, her real self probably would be attracted to Larxene, but she felt nothing more than a vague sense of satisfaction. She may not have a heart, but at least she had a tight ass. As if it mattered anymore.
She ran a hand through her hair, which was a little shorter than she was used to but more convenient, and glanced over her shoulder at the Organization coat. Somewhat reluctantly, she padded over to it and held it up against her body so she could get a feel for what it looked like without actually putting it on. It looks like something out of a sci-fi movie, she thought, one eyebrow raising skeptically.
Who came up with this outfit, anyway?
Shrugging, Larxene unzipped the coat and slipped it on. The leather was cold against her skin, but she didn't mind it. She'd wear clothes underneath from now on, anyway. The metal beads on the hood-strings clanked together as she zipped it back up, adjusted it, and put on the accompanying necklace and black gloves. When she was done, she looked at her reflection once again.
She wasn't sure why, but now that the coat was on, it seemed... right. She still felt that horrible void in her chest, that persistent, nagging feeling that something important was missing, but now she felt a little more at ease in her skin. The longer she stared at the person in the mirror, the more she forgot what she used to look like, who she used to be. All of it - all of what happened before, seemed insignificant. The past was irrelevant; what mattered was now.
Time to introduce herself again. Larxene tossed her head and said, “My name is...” No, that wasn't quite right. Try again.
“I am Larxene.”
The Nobody in the mirror grinned back maliciously, like a hungry fox. Nice to know you, she replied.