Beating Drum Heart [1/6]
I still feel really bad about posting here, but I don't want to see it die.
Author: tunasaladsonnet
Chapter Title: Happy Not-Birthday
Rating: G. Will go up the teeniest bit in later chapters.
Spoilers: KHII - Second visit of Port Royal.
Notes/Continuation: My mind finally sat down and explained this to me. This chapter takes place during KHI, probably while Sora & Co. are in Atlantica or thereabouts.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
Beating Drum Heart
Chapter 1: Happy Not-Birthday
I think of a hero as someone who understands the degree of responsibility that comes with his freedom.
~ Bob Dylan
Everyone knew Zexion didn't like to get his hands dirty. But Lexaeus wasn't everyone and he watched as the Cloaked Schemer wiped warm Gummi wax off his bare hands with a rag. He smiled up from under his bangs. “What do you think?”
The Silent Hero crossed his arms over his chest and had to crane his neck to take in the entirety of the new ship. “...You know what I think.”
“Ah, Lexaeus. Truly you are the master of critique.”
“You know I think it's the best you've done, don't you?” He leaned a hand on the younger's shoulders, easily forcing his knees to give out as he pushed down. Zexion laughed and brushed the hand away.
“Only joking. I am rather proud of this one.” He slung the rag over a bare shoulder, and pressed a button on the remote next to the rest of his tools. The gangway hissed, then lowered down to the bay floor at their feet.
“Shall we?” Zexion asked, gesturing with his arm.
Lexaeus shook his head in amusement, stepping up into the ship.
---
“I can't believe I'm saying this, but you've outdone yourself. Again.“ He reached up and just-barely brushed the top of the glass dome. He took a seat behind the wheel and looked at the dark control panel that controlled the engines and (massive) cannons he had seen below. “Have you ever wondered what the Neophytes would say if they found out you were the genius behind all this?”
Zexion smirked out the side of the cockpit, looking across the castle's Gummi bay at the other Gummi ships he had designed, built and modified almost entirely on his own (the Illusionists pitched in a hand sometimes, but they weren't entirely useful. Especially around the blowtorch, poor highly flammable things). “Xigbar would have a lot of explaining to do, first of all.”
“Why do you let him take all your credit?” Lexaeus asked, curious.
“The man controls space. He can move from one world to another in the blink of an eye. He doesn't require a Gummi ship, and thus do I let him... amuse himself with the notion that he's the expert on Inter-Space travel, even in the realm of Gummi block technology, when in reality, he doesn't have an inkling about these ships.”
“Ah.” Lexaeus folded his hands. “You're doing the vocabulary thing again.”
Zexion blinked. “What vocabulary thing?”
“You expand your vocabulary when you get annoyed. Ienzo did it too.”
“Oh. Where were we?”
“Xigbar? Gummi ships?”
“Right. All the same, he might be upset with me when he finds out I ripped his ship apart to build this one.”
There was a long silence as Zexion leaned against the glass, continuing to stare out at his creations. Eventually he turned back to evaluate his friend's frown.
“...You took apart Xigbar's ship.” Repetition of a statement, not a question.
“To make this one, yes.”
Lexaeus didn't stutter, didn't flounder for words. He just waited for an explanation.
Zexion sighed. “You realized that his ship isn't the only one missing, didn't you?”
Neither of them moved besides V's ever-so-slight tightening of the eyes. He had thought some of the blocks down below looked like some of his own. But their outer layer had been melted down, so they had been shiny and metallic, slightly smaller and tougher...
So Zexion had taken apart Xigbar's ship and merged it with his own. This was his ship. He looked around the cockpit with new eyes. “I can't accept this,” he said, not realizing he had skipped Zexion's question.
But he was used to it. (Chunks of their conversation often went missing, as they were perfectly capable of figuring out each other's riddles in their own thought processes.) “Oh yes, you can. If you can help Luxord design Castle Oblivion into all hours of the morning when Marluxia and Larxene are supposed to be doing it, you can accept a new Gummi ship.”
Lexaeus tried, in vain, to fight the twitching at the corner of his lips. “Zexion...” He let the shared smile take its course before posing his next question. “This isn't just because of my helping Luxord, is it?”
The silence in the cockpit thickened at an alarming rate. VI dropped his eyes to the tips of his boots. “It's Aeleus's birthday today.”
“Technically speaking... You're making a present for someone you've never met.”
Zexion raised his head again so quickly his bangs got into the one eye he depended on not being covered. “Oh, no. You are not pulling that excuse on me.”
Lexaeus raised an eyebrow. 'Excuse?' he asked silently.
“Who was the one who reorganized the whole lab after Xaldin and Xigbar...”
“Obliterated it?”
“In a word, yes.”
“That would be me,” V answered, suddenly the epitome of unenthusiastic about the direction this conversation was taking.
“And who was the one who nursed Vexen back to health after he refused to sleep for... was it a month?”
“That-”
“And when Luxord and I got lost in Wonderland? Who found us?”
Lexaeus didn't even bother to start a sentence, knowing the other would-
“And Xemnas nearly killed Saïx before you convinced him to stay.”
There was a pause.
“Is that all?” Lexaeus asked.
“Not nearly. I could go on and on about the amazing things you do that you don't take credit for. You deserve a vacation, a trip, something. This was the least I could do.”
“Well... If it'll make you some semblance of happy, I suppose I could try,” the man smiled, without fighting it this time.
“If that's the motivation you need to get out of here, than yes, it would make me very happy. Or... you know.” Zexion pushed himself off the control panel and stood next to his seated friend.
“Right,” Lexaeus smiled down at the wheel, before remembering a very important little fact. “Xemnas will be wondering where I've gone.”
“You'll be off on a mission. Xigbar said there's a spot of Inter-Space that's been loosing Worlds recently. He wanted to try exploring it, but you could probably waste a good couple of days around there. The coordinates are programmed into the console already.”
“...Let me guess. There are enough supplies down in the storage room to last me a week,” he said, looking up at the younger.
VI shrugged. “I knew you'd agree in the end. And before you try delaying this any more, Xaldin and Xigbar were planning on making you a cake.”
Lexaeus furrowed his eyebrows. “That doesn't sound so bad.”
“When I last left the kitchen, they were putting their goggles on.”
“I'll just start the ship up, then.” He pressed the button in the center of the wheel. The control panel flashed on and off before all of the switches and dials remained glowing orange.
Zexion smiled proudly as the engines hummed below them. He patted his friend on the shoulder, before turning to leave. He paused in the doorway back down to the depths of the ship.
“You know, Lex, there's a reason we call you the Silent Hero.” He looked back at him from behind shimmering bangs. “Maybe you'll finally find it out there.”
The Hero frowned at this, waiting until he heard the gangway lowering signal and Zexion departing. He turned back to the controls and started the flight sequence.
Perhaps I will.
---
He wasn't sure how many hours had passed since that conversation ended, but he made a mental note to make sure no one ever explored areas of Inter-Space where Worlds were disappearing. Overrun with Heartless ships.
He tried to push himself off the control panel, where he had been thrown in the collision with one of the remaining Worlds. Unfortunately, he realized, his head was already outside the ship, along with most of his upper body.
He could see the ground below, grass sprinkled with splinters of glass. How... oddly poetic. He wondered if the prickling sensation at the back of his neck was particles of glass, or the blood rushing to his head from being halfway upside-down. At least this place smelled nice. Dry leaves and the cleanest air he had breathed in a long time.
“Hello?”
His vision was starting to slur with exhaustion, but he thought he saw a woman standing at the edge of... the clearing? Meadow? Wherever he had crash-landed.
“Hello!” he called out, far more relieved than he should be. Having an inhabitant see him would make this all the more complicated. Still, he would need help. “If you don't mind me asking, would you be able to-”
“Help you? I can certainly try,” she was saying, nervously, and he could see her approaching the ship. She climbed up on a couple of dislodged Gummi blocks (looked like parts of the wing) and grabbed one of his arms. One pull and he could felt like he'd be able to dislodge himself.
Time skipped, and he was suddenly on his back in the grass. He tried to remember the fall out of the cockpit, but couldn't.
She must've moved him, the poor kind thing. He couldn't feel any glass behind his back, so he couldn't be lying right next to the ship's wreckage. He didn't want to think about how heavy he must be.
“Are you... Are you alright?” the woman asked from... somewhere. His right, his left, he wasn't sure.
Suddenly, as he breathed in the cold air (it must be nighttime, then), he was aware of the fact that he was alive. He hadn't even realized that he had been afraid of dying as the ship came crashing down. It had been some odd instinctual feeling that had guided him through the pre-crash procedure with shaking hands. But his body had reacted, and it had reacted with fear of death. How very exhilarating.
His steady breathing devolved into loud laughter. He laughed, knowing he'd be able to go back to Zexion and Vexen and his friends and everyone else after all this was over. “Yes,” he struggled to answer her question (no point in being impolite to the person who may have just saved your life). “Yes, I'm fine.”
He was still laughing when sleep crawled through the grass and claimed him.
Author: tunasaladsonnet
Chapter Title: Happy Not-Birthday
Rating: G. Will go up the teeniest bit in later chapters.
Spoilers: KHII - Second visit of Port Royal.
Notes/Continuation: My mind finally sat down and explained this to me. This chapter takes place during KHI, probably while Sora & Co. are in Atlantica or thereabouts.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
Beating Drum Heart
Chapter 1: Happy Not-Birthday
I think of a hero as someone who understands the degree of responsibility that comes with his freedom.
~ Bob Dylan
Everyone knew Zexion didn't like to get his hands dirty. But Lexaeus wasn't everyone and he watched as the Cloaked Schemer wiped warm Gummi wax off his bare hands with a rag. He smiled up from under his bangs. “What do you think?”
The Silent Hero crossed his arms over his chest and had to crane his neck to take in the entirety of the new ship. “...You know what I think.”
“Ah, Lexaeus. Truly you are the master of critique.”
“You know I think it's the best you've done, don't you?” He leaned a hand on the younger's shoulders, easily forcing his knees to give out as he pushed down. Zexion laughed and brushed the hand away.
“Only joking. I am rather proud of this one.” He slung the rag over a bare shoulder, and pressed a button on the remote next to the rest of his tools. The gangway hissed, then lowered down to the bay floor at their feet.
“Shall we?” Zexion asked, gesturing with his arm.
Lexaeus shook his head in amusement, stepping up into the ship.
---
“I can't believe I'm saying this, but you've outdone yourself. Again.“ He reached up and just-barely brushed the top of the glass dome. He took a seat behind the wheel and looked at the dark control panel that controlled the engines and (massive) cannons he had seen below. “Have you ever wondered what the Neophytes would say if they found out you were the genius behind all this?”
Zexion smirked out the side of the cockpit, looking across the castle's Gummi bay at the other Gummi ships he had designed, built and modified almost entirely on his own (the Illusionists pitched in a hand sometimes, but they weren't entirely useful. Especially around the blowtorch, poor highly flammable things). “Xigbar would have a lot of explaining to do, first of all.”
“Why do you let him take all your credit?” Lexaeus asked, curious.
“The man controls space. He can move from one world to another in the blink of an eye. He doesn't require a Gummi ship, and thus do I let him... amuse himself with the notion that he's the expert on Inter-Space travel, even in the realm of Gummi block technology, when in reality, he doesn't have an inkling about these ships.”
“Ah.” Lexaeus folded his hands. “You're doing the vocabulary thing again.”
Zexion blinked. “What vocabulary thing?”
“You expand your vocabulary when you get annoyed. Ienzo did it too.”
“Oh. Where were we?”
“Xigbar? Gummi ships?”
“Right. All the same, he might be upset with me when he finds out I ripped his ship apart to build this one.”
There was a long silence as Zexion leaned against the glass, continuing to stare out at his creations. Eventually he turned back to evaluate his friend's frown.
“...You took apart Xigbar's ship.” Repetition of a statement, not a question.
“To make this one, yes.”
Lexaeus didn't stutter, didn't flounder for words. He just waited for an explanation.
Zexion sighed. “You realized that his ship isn't the only one missing, didn't you?”
Neither of them moved besides V's ever-so-slight tightening of the eyes. He had thought some of the blocks down below looked like some of his own. But their outer layer had been melted down, so they had been shiny and metallic, slightly smaller and tougher...
So Zexion had taken apart Xigbar's ship and merged it with his own. This was his ship. He looked around the cockpit with new eyes. “I can't accept this,” he said, not realizing he had skipped Zexion's question.
But he was used to it. (Chunks of their conversation often went missing, as they were perfectly capable of figuring out each other's riddles in their own thought processes.) “Oh yes, you can. If you can help Luxord design Castle Oblivion into all hours of the morning when Marluxia and Larxene are supposed to be doing it, you can accept a new Gummi ship.”
Lexaeus tried, in vain, to fight the twitching at the corner of his lips. “Zexion...” He let the shared smile take its course before posing his next question. “This isn't just because of my helping Luxord, is it?”
The silence in the cockpit thickened at an alarming rate. VI dropped his eyes to the tips of his boots. “It's Aeleus's birthday today.”
“Technically speaking... You're making a present for someone you've never met.”
Zexion raised his head again so quickly his bangs got into the one eye he depended on not being covered. “Oh, no. You are not pulling that excuse on me.”
Lexaeus raised an eyebrow. 'Excuse?' he asked silently.
“Who was the one who reorganized the whole lab after Xaldin and Xigbar...”
“Obliterated it?”
“In a word, yes.”
“That would be me,” V answered, suddenly the epitome of unenthusiastic about the direction this conversation was taking.
“And who was the one who nursed Vexen back to health after he refused to sleep for... was it a month?”
“That-”
“And when Luxord and I got lost in Wonderland? Who found us?”
Lexaeus didn't even bother to start a sentence, knowing the other would-
“And Xemnas nearly killed Saïx before you convinced him to stay.”
There was a pause.
“Is that all?” Lexaeus asked.
“Not nearly. I could go on and on about the amazing things you do that you don't take credit for. You deserve a vacation, a trip, something. This was the least I could do.”
“Well... If it'll make you some semblance of happy, I suppose I could try,” the man smiled, without fighting it this time.
“If that's the motivation you need to get out of here, than yes, it would make me very happy. Or... you know.” Zexion pushed himself off the control panel and stood next to his seated friend.
“Right,” Lexaeus smiled down at the wheel, before remembering a very important little fact. “Xemnas will be wondering where I've gone.”
“You'll be off on a mission. Xigbar said there's a spot of Inter-Space that's been loosing Worlds recently. He wanted to try exploring it, but you could probably waste a good couple of days around there. The coordinates are programmed into the console already.”
“...Let me guess. There are enough supplies down in the storage room to last me a week,” he said, looking up at the younger.
VI shrugged. “I knew you'd agree in the end. And before you try delaying this any more, Xaldin and Xigbar were planning on making you a cake.”
Lexaeus furrowed his eyebrows. “That doesn't sound so bad.”
“When I last left the kitchen, they were putting their goggles on.”
“I'll just start the ship up, then.” He pressed the button in the center of the wheel. The control panel flashed on and off before all of the switches and dials remained glowing orange.
Zexion smiled proudly as the engines hummed below them. He patted his friend on the shoulder, before turning to leave. He paused in the doorway back down to the depths of the ship.
“You know, Lex, there's a reason we call you the Silent Hero.” He looked back at him from behind shimmering bangs. “Maybe you'll finally find it out there.”
The Hero frowned at this, waiting until he heard the gangway lowering signal and Zexion departing. He turned back to the controls and started the flight sequence.
Perhaps I will.
---
He wasn't sure how many hours had passed since that conversation ended, but he made a mental note to make sure no one ever explored areas of Inter-Space where Worlds were disappearing. Overrun with Heartless ships.
He tried to push himself off the control panel, where he had been thrown in the collision with one of the remaining Worlds. Unfortunately, he realized, his head was already outside the ship, along with most of his upper body.
He could see the ground below, grass sprinkled with splinters of glass. How... oddly poetic. He wondered if the prickling sensation at the back of his neck was particles of glass, or the blood rushing to his head from being halfway upside-down. At least this place smelled nice. Dry leaves and the cleanest air he had breathed in a long time.
“Hello?”
His vision was starting to slur with exhaustion, but he thought he saw a woman standing at the edge of... the clearing? Meadow? Wherever he had crash-landed.
“Hello!” he called out, far more relieved than he should be. Having an inhabitant see him would make this all the more complicated. Still, he would need help. “If you don't mind me asking, would you be able to-”
“Help you? I can certainly try,” she was saying, nervously, and he could see her approaching the ship. She climbed up on a couple of dislodged Gummi blocks (looked like parts of the wing) and grabbed one of his arms. One pull and he could felt like he'd be able to dislodge himself.
Time skipped, and he was suddenly on his back in the grass. He tried to remember the fall out of the cockpit, but couldn't.
She must've moved him, the poor kind thing. He couldn't feel any glass behind his back, so he couldn't be lying right next to the ship's wreckage. He didn't want to think about how heavy he must be.
“Are you... Are you alright?” the woman asked from... somewhere. His right, his left, he wasn't sure.
Suddenly, as he breathed in the cold air (it must be nighttime, then), he was aware of the fact that he was alive. He hadn't even realized that he had been afraid of dying as the ship came crashing down. It had been some odd instinctual feeling that had guided him through the pre-crash procedure with shaking hands. But his body had reacted, and it had reacted with fear of death. How very exhilarating.
His steady breathing devolved into loud laughter. He laughed, knowing he'd be able to go back to Zexion and Vexen and his friends and everyone else after all this was over. “Yes,” he struggled to answer her question (no point in being impolite to the person who may have just saved your life). “Yes, I'm fine.”
He was still laughing when sleep crawled through the grass and claimed him.