Impressions (Axel/Roxas, #10)
Title: Impressions
Author: libekory
Claim: Axel/Roxas
Prompt: #10 ["joker"]
Warnings: None that I can think of?
Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts and Kingdom Hearts II are the property of Square-Enix, Disney, and associates. No copyright infringement intended, all rights reserved, etc.
Impressions
Roxas valued his first impressions because they tended to be accurate.
His first impression of Twilight Town, when he woke and climbed slowly to his feet, dizzy and recognizing nothing but still sure, somehow, that he belonged there.
His first impression of the Superior, a man so tall he seemed to block out the light, a man who had known just what to say to make him follow, no matter how alarming he was on every single level.
His first impression of the World That Never Was, twisting skyscrapers and starless nights and emptiness, so much emptiness.
His first impression of the others, a sea of hooded faces and black coats just like his, silent except to nod in turn as the Superior introduced them by number and title.
Then one of them had raised a hand, as if impatient, and in a drawling voice said, "Okay, we've met the new kid, can we get to dinner now?"
His first impression of Axel.
The one to his right, VII, had hissed that name with oddly-vivid fury, and it was the only name except his own that Roxas heard for days.
Clown, he remembered thinking. And Axel had certainly looked the part. That bright red hair and brilliant green eyes, those funny marks on his cheeks like tattoos -- everything about him clashed with the others. With Never Was itself. He was too brash, too extravagant, too blunt and inescapable to be one of them.
Like a jester, entertainment for the real Organization members.
Roxas had been ready to dismiss him completely, and he would have, except that his eyes kept wandering back to stare at that thin figure.
There was something -- hypnotic about his lack of respect. The way he tipped his head back as if the featureless sky was more interesting than his Superior's words. The way his body swayed every now and then, shifting from foot to foot but almost in a kind of dance. Roxas remembered wondering if he had a music player hidden under his coat, and being startled by the twitch of a smile that came to his own lips at the thought.
Fascinated, he sought Axel out after the meeting ended, caught him by one bony elbow and then dragged him down by the front of his coat so he couldn't tower the way the Superior had. So that he'd look surprised instead of disinterested when their eyes met.
The surprise only lasted for a second. "Oh look! It's the kid."
He'd said it without thinking. Dismissively. And that twisted in Roxas somehow, when he hadn't been able to look away. He tightened his grip on the coat, dragged Axel down another few inches, and told him flatly, "My name is Roxas." Into one hand, he summoned one of his weapons -- a bright silver thing he knew, on some level, was a keyblade -- and brought the gleaming edge to Axel's throat.
It did the trick, made those eyes widen. "Roxas," he repeated obligingly, almost obediently, and Roxas was -- satisfied. Very satisfied.
He wanted more.
"That's right." Releasing Axel's coat and letting the keyblade vanish, Roxas brushed past him and left the red-haired man to stare after, preferably slack-jawed. The next time, he thought, Axel would come to him. And that was satisfying, too.
Later IV would assure him in clinical tones that anything he thought he felt, anything he thought the others felt, was only an imitation of the emotions they remembered -- and that, because he had no conscious memories, his "feelings" would be few and far between. And Roxas would believe him, even though his first impression of that was bullshit.
He valued his first impressions, but they were still wrong, every once in a while.
Right?
Author: libekory
Claim: Axel/Roxas
Prompt: #10 ["joker"]
Warnings: None that I can think of?
Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts and Kingdom Hearts II are the property of Square-Enix, Disney, and associates. No copyright infringement intended, all rights reserved, etc.
Impressions
Roxas valued his first impressions because they tended to be accurate.
His first impression of Twilight Town, when he woke and climbed slowly to his feet, dizzy and recognizing nothing but still sure, somehow, that he belonged there.
His first impression of the Superior, a man so tall he seemed to block out the light, a man who had known just what to say to make him follow, no matter how alarming he was on every single level.
His first impression of the World That Never Was, twisting skyscrapers and starless nights and emptiness, so much emptiness.
His first impression of the others, a sea of hooded faces and black coats just like his, silent except to nod in turn as the Superior introduced them by number and title.
Then one of them had raised a hand, as if impatient, and in a drawling voice said, "Okay, we've met the new kid, can we get to dinner now?"
His first impression of Axel.
The one to his right, VII, had hissed that name with oddly-vivid fury, and it was the only name except his own that Roxas heard for days.
Clown, he remembered thinking. And Axel had certainly looked the part. That bright red hair and brilliant green eyes, those funny marks on his cheeks like tattoos -- everything about him clashed with the others. With Never Was itself. He was too brash, too extravagant, too blunt and inescapable to be one of them.
Like a jester, entertainment for the real Organization members.
Roxas had been ready to dismiss him completely, and he would have, except that his eyes kept wandering back to stare at that thin figure.
There was something -- hypnotic about his lack of respect. The way he tipped his head back as if the featureless sky was more interesting than his Superior's words. The way his body swayed every now and then, shifting from foot to foot but almost in a kind of dance. Roxas remembered wondering if he had a music player hidden under his coat, and being startled by the twitch of a smile that came to his own lips at the thought.
Fascinated, he sought Axel out after the meeting ended, caught him by one bony elbow and then dragged him down by the front of his coat so he couldn't tower the way the Superior had. So that he'd look surprised instead of disinterested when their eyes met.
The surprise only lasted for a second. "Oh look! It's the kid."
He'd said it without thinking. Dismissively. And that twisted in Roxas somehow, when he hadn't been able to look away. He tightened his grip on the coat, dragged Axel down another few inches, and told him flatly, "My name is Roxas." Into one hand, he summoned one of his weapons -- a bright silver thing he knew, on some level, was a keyblade -- and brought the gleaming edge to Axel's throat.
It did the trick, made those eyes widen. "Roxas," he repeated obligingly, almost obediently, and Roxas was -- satisfied. Very satisfied.
He wanted more.
"That's right." Releasing Axel's coat and letting the keyblade vanish, Roxas brushed past him and left the red-haired man to stare after, preferably slack-jawed. The next time, he thought, Axel would come to him. And that was satisfying, too.
Later IV would assure him in clinical tones that anything he thought he felt, anything he thought the others felt, was only an imitation of the emotions they remembered -- and that, because he had no conscious memories, his "feelings" would be few and far between. And Roxas would believe him, even though his first impression of that was bullshit.
He valued his first impressions, but they were still wrong, every once in a while.
Right?