niles
in
iitsumademo
#011; mummifiedmutant
Title: Identify.
Prompt:
--- 10pastryhearts; CHALLENGE #6: PATTERNS.
--- 10pastryhearts; O T H E R S I D E -- CHOUX PASTRY HEART.
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts.
Characters: Naminé, Marluxia, Larxene; mentions: Kairi, Xemnas, Sora.
Word Count: 476.
Rating: PG.
Author's Notes: See? Something with Larxene in it >:D Not too proud of my first entry to the current challenge over at 10pastryhearts so I decided to write another one.
--> This piece won "best use of imagery" for week/challenge six at 10pastryhearts.
"A princess of heart is too pure to lose herself to the darkness." A voice says, low to the ground, "and yet-- this girl-- She, she's different; she was born differently. She broke a cycle and a pattern not even we, the very products of that pattern, can control."
A pale girl in a short white dress presses herself against the door, sitting on her knees. She hears the voices of people she knows not to trust. They tell her things, of what she's supposed to do with the gift she holds, and she will do what they say when the time comes because she believes she doesn't know any better. Her eyes close, and she hears a voice, the voice that was supposed to give her a name. It says, she's in your hands, now; be wise, for she is powerful.
But she doesn't want to remember how she came to be, she wants to listen.
"Yes. Whatever," a woman's voice laughs, laced with lightning, "but what do you plan on doing with her?"
Distinctly, the other voice belongs to a man. He speaks with a dash of elegancy and light-red, although the girl who listens doesn't know how she can hear such a thing. "The Superior has left her in my, our, hands. That, Larxene, will be his downfall."
Larxene's giggle is twisted, demented, "you actually plan on overthrowing the Organization? How can she help you do that?"
"Memories--" the male announces, "--she can disrupt and replace and destroy as she pleases. Such a gift would work well against the wielder of the keyblade."
Larxene smirks; the girl can see so through the faint crack that runs along the edge of the door. "Sora."
To her ears, the name is short, sweet, and makes her feel protected against the lurk of the shadows and the two figures who talk. She feels connected to him, the keyblade wielder -- and maybe once upon a time she was, when the sky was soft and pure, and so was the sand. She sees the picture in her mind, can instantly see this special boy, Sora, as if he was all her heart could focus on when it wasn't so fragile and broken. When it was actually there...
Her head snaps up as the woman speaks again, "my, Marluxia, don't you think such a special girl deserves an equally special name?" Venom to her lips. "I don't believe the Superior ever bothered to give her one."
Slipping from her, the memory of chin-hugging autumn hair and bright blue eyes --of what she associates herself with while she has nothing for herself. The girl presses herself closer, waiting for her identity, waiting for the man to speak again.
He finally does, not a doubt to taint the one word he recites:
"Naminé."
Something ends. Something begins.
Prompt:
--- 10pastryhearts; CHALLENGE #6: PATTERNS.
--- 10pastryhearts; O T H E R S I D E -- CHOUX PASTRY HEART.
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts.
Characters: Naminé, Marluxia, Larxene; mentions: Kairi, Xemnas, Sora.
Word Count: 476.
Rating: PG.
Author's Notes: See? Something with Larxene in it >:D Not too proud of my first entry to the current challenge over at 10pastryhearts so I decided to write another one.
--> This piece won "best use of imagery" for week/challenge six at 10pastryhearts.
"A princess of heart is too pure to lose herself to the darkness." A voice says, low to the ground, "and yet-- this girl-- She, she's different; she was born differently. She broke a cycle and a pattern not even we, the very products of that pattern, can control."
A pale girl in a short white dress presses herself against the door, sitting on her knees. She hears the voices of people she knows not to trust. They tell her things, of what she's supposed to do with the gift she holds, and she will do what they say when the time comes because she believes she doesn't know any better. Her eyes close, and she hears a voice, the voice that was supposed to give her a name. It says, she's in your hands, now; be wise, for she is powerful.
But she doesn't want to remember how she came to be, she wants to listen.
"Yes. Whatever," a woman's voice laughs, laced with lightning, "but what do you plan on doing with her?"
Distinctly, the other voice belongs to a man. He speaks with a dash of elegancy and light-red, although the girl who listens doesn't know how she can hear such a thing. "The Superior has left her in my, our, hands. That, Larxene, will be his downfall."
Larxene's giggle is twisted, demented, "you actually plan on overthrowing the Organization? How can she help you do that?"
"Memories--" the male announces, "--she can disrupt and replace and destroy as she pleases. Such a gift would work well against the wielder of the keyblade."
Larxene smirks; the girl can see so through the faint crack that runs along the edge of the door. "Sora."
To her ears, the name is short, sweet, and makes her feel protected against the lurk of the shadows and the two figures who talk. She feels connected to him, the keyblade wielder -- and maybe once upon a time she was, when the sky was soft and pure, and so was the sand. She sees the picture in her mind, can instantly see this special boy, Sora, as if he was all her heart could focus on when it wasn't so fragile and broken. When it was actually there...
Her head snaps up as the woman speaks again, "my, Marluxia, don't you think such a special girl deserves an equally special name?" Venom to her lips. "I don't believe the Superior ever bothered to give her one."
Slipping from her, the memory of chin-hugging autumn hair and bright blue eyes --of what she associates herself with while she has nothing for herself. The girl presses herself closer, waiting for her identity, waiting for the man to speak again.
He finally does, not a doubt to taint the one word he recites:
"Naminé."
Something ends. Something begins.