I decided to write the backstories for Saix, Axel, Demyx, Luxord, Marluxia and Larxene, because...well it's fun. I have weird ideas, so bare with me. For Saix...or Isaac or Ias I had something to do with him coming from a mentally unstable family. Yes, that make's perfect sense why is Nobody is damn crazy. For Axel or Alexander/Alex his family was in a cat cult. Don't ask why. He just seems like someone who would follow a cat cult. Demyx or Edym was a mermaid. Everyone could see that coming. Luxord or...Lord was an aristrocrat. Marluxia or...Ralium was a heir to an expensive mansion and Larxene...or...Relane was a runaway. Yes, my ideas are weird. Don't kill me. First part I'm posting is about Ias/Isaac. It's...kind of weird. Remember to read and review. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Part One: Cheshire Moons (Number VII) Perfect… Perfection Those words only mattered to him in the long run and though he was never able to live up to others ingenuity, originality or brilliance for that matter, his capacity for creativity and art was never doubted. Perhaps the wild lupine shape-shifters provided better company for him than the people he associated with. Slow, clumsy Not at all perfect, not at all a molded sense of perfection like him, not like he considered himself to be… It was a cold, damp night. The snow hardened into abrasive ice, the heavens were moving slowly across the Republic, and the frost-covered trees moved their bodies ever so slowly in a miserable dance to keep warm. It was a bitter life. All they did was criticize and complain instead of build up anyone. He thought of going back to his family and friends for their gathering, a large dinner. But he wasn’t sure anymore if he should. They expected him to be perfect. The ideal host, faultless in all aspects of life, they just wanted him to be that. Finally, he made his decision, and maybe he would regret it. He opened the door, his full, semi-spiky black-blue hair soaked and sticking against his fairly pale face. Pale hazel-yellow eyes looked around, almost scrutinizing. “There you are, Isaac,†one of ladies mentioned, “Stop bumbling and help.†What another pitiful family gathering. *** “Why did you have to come?†Isaac mentioned angrily as he was going to take a dip in the cool water. Lizella smiled disarmingly as she leaned upon a frosty tree. “You’re going to get sick.†“Sick my ***,†he dove in the water and predictability let out a loud hiss and a shriek which caused the girl to laugh. His teeth chattered and he shot a indignant, sulky glare of defeat and waited for another minute of “I-told-you-so,†from Lizella but she, astoundingly, remained quiet. “What? No lecture?†He called from the lake, tying his hair back, and brushing the stands of iridescent silver blue-black away from his face. “You seem to despise your family,†Lizella spoke finally, “Have they wronged you?†The chestnut haired girl was curious to find Isaac’s answer. “They just piss me off.†“All families—†“You don’t understand. They blather on about me being perfect, genius…it gets tiresome after a while.†“Honestly, your family sounds like an overly expectant child, and you sound like a spoiled slacker.†“Shut up, Lizella and go **** around with your boyfriends and leave me the hell alone.†His voice, though extremely choleric and irritated, his expression remained vaguely deadpan. Lizella scowled, narrowing coal-blue eyes and frowned. “I hope you get what you deserve.†Don’t’ we all, don’t we all. *** Stray tendrils of smoke filled Isaac’s sleeping nostrils and the astringent smell of char filled the air. He darted from his sleep, his pale yellowish eyes now darting around in smoke engulfed darkness as he felt his way down the hallway and then down the meandering steps. What the hell is going on? He saw the curtains and drapes on fire and his attention quickly turned to the blue-white haired woman lying in the kitchen with her head pressed against the counter. “Nara,†he snarled, “Wake up.†Her gossamer gold-green eyes opened up lazily and she simply vomited. Intoxication, he thought. He saw that the conflagration was shooting up from the stove. He hastily tried to beat at the flames but with no avail. He turned off the stove/oven but in no way or form could deal with this blazing hot inferno. He glanced at the bottle of liquor on the ground and bit his lip in frustration. He grabbed Nara and tried to lead her out the burning house but the torn boarding of the abode started to fall upon the carpeted floor and the smog became unbearable and tight, as if it was wrapping around his windpipes. Perhaps, this is what Lizella meant. He tried to open the door but recoiled from the hot knob. Truly scalded, Isaac charged at the wooden door and found himself stumbling through fire illuminated darkness. He at long last reached the end of the corridor and outside into the cold, night, staring in angered horror as their whole house went up in a wildfire in which, nobody saw coming. *** “She was drunk, Lizella,†Isaac explained as he wrapped his burned hands. “Damn her.†“She was probably stressed.†“I don’t ****ing care. I wouldn’t drink a bottle of brandy and then try to operate a stove.†“You don’t know what you would do.†Isaac dipped his hand in refreshing ice water, winced and tensed at the stinging sensation and then relaxed as his palms became delightfully numb. ****, he thought acrimoniously, glaring at the blisters upon his palms. He glanced at Lizella. “Who gave her that bottle of brandy? Everyone knows Nara has a drinking problem.†“Does it matter? It is her fault for losing control.†Losing control… It must run in the family “Everyone has something they can’t manage—and for Nara it was drinking. I wonder what it is for you?†“If I find out you are the one delivering bottles of alcohol to our house, I’m going to tear you limb from limb,†he scowled passionately, vehemently angry as he jabbed pointed nails upon Lizella’s dumbfounded and frightened expression. She shrunk back, her brown eyes narrowing with spite. “What’s your problem? You always retreat, you draw to yourself to write or muse and yet you are the most foul, back-biting and violent person I’d ever met!†Her jangling voice was utter annoyance to his slightly pointed ears; he put on a jacket and spat at Lizella whose brown eyes became varnished with burning tears. *** Howling at the moon, so typical Isaac laid upon the defrosting grass, his eyes closed and his mind lost in a sea of thoughts and imagery. Unexpected reveries flared up in his subconscious mind, each more lucid than the last. He wanted to run, and dive, and probably sink. Life was unbearable and meaningless and everything else, might as well be scattered hopelessly to the wind. Unempirical goals and desires were part of everyday life. Now with no home or dwelling with to resume his worthless, hollow life, he would die out here. No one with half a mind would take someone like him in. He was always so terse and incensed. No one understood why he was so angry. He was probably infuriated at the world and everything he saw within it: frustrated at the cold hearts of men and the licentiousness of any other species of creature out there. With a serene sigh, he continued meditating under the flickering stars of the Ravish Republic…wondering where in God’s name could there be meaning for him. “I’m sorry,†he finally set to Lizella who had been crying for the last three minutes. He wiped a tear from her eye. “I’m just…†“Frustrated, I know…but…you have to trust other people than yourself.†“You hate me, don’t you?†“Of course not,†Lizella lied between clenched teeth, “I don’t hate you, I just…feel like you can do better sometimes.†*** “Yes, this is the Ravish Republic delivery/postal service. I want to know the delivery for a bottle of brandy—who was it from?†“Here are the stamps, sir,†the poodle-human said, “Shift through them and see what you to know.†Isaac did exactly that, throwing cards and ineffective and useless junk aside until he reached the packaging. His eyes darkened with anger as he recognized the address. Lizella “Don’t you dare hang up on me,†Isaac scowled as he shouted over the phone, “You sent Nara the brandy. You know she does dangerous things when inebriated and you did it anyway.†“It’s her fault!†The phone screamed, albeit Lizella was doing the talking. “It was a gift.†Isaac had by now hung up, infuriated and ready to deliver retribution for Lizella’s transgression. *** Having faced with too many problems with family before, he swore vehemently when he pounded on Lizella’s door. The girl opened and was brusquely shoved out the way as Isaac glared petulantly at her while Lizella returned the death-glare with her impudent gaze of her own. “You got some nerve barging in my house like that,†Lizella shouted, “Just who do you think you are?†“You said you didn’t hate me. What a lie.†“I should ask you that question! You treat me like ****!†Isaac reacted in a mixture of shock and antagonism and he delivered a brutal blow to Lizella’s shoulder, pushing her down. “I do hate you. You stir aversion between me and my family, you spread lies, gossip and now, even though you didn’t cause it, inadvertently responsible for me losing my home.†“Don’t you hit me!†Lizella hissed. “I wouldn’t even touch you, you worthless whore.†She grabbed the nearest glass item and smashed it upon Isaac’s head, causing him to crumple and cough up blood. He growled, bending over in pain. Lizella grabbed a handful of black-blue and silver hair and tugged him ferociously. However, Isaac fought back and this time twisted Lizella’s arm and began to fracture it until was completely broken. She fell on the floor, whimpering and screaming, unable to fight back with a ruined limb. Isaac had taken the opportunity to beat her senseless as he gathered household items and began to thrust it upon her fallen frame. “Stop!†She scowled, holding up her good arm to block the crushing blow. She buckled, spitting blood out of her mouth. She realized that he may kill her if she didn’t get to a phone immediately. She scrambled, upon her knees, desperate to reach a phone. Isaac cracked his neck to the side, sauntering towards her as she began to dial a number. “Help!†She scowled, “He’s going to kill me—†Lizella began kicking but it was useless, worthless waste of energy in which there was no hope to return from. Black and blue all over, she jolted underneath a table and shook. Get control, he thought, trying to catch his breath and calm himself down, don’t continue, just…calm…down…I have to listen to my heart and it is saying this is wrong. I can’t keep abusing her this way. Calm…down… He could feel a bloodied tear roll down his eye before he blacked out. *** Isaac awoke, not looking foreword to deal with the ramifications of such brutal violence he displayed last night. Lizella was on the floor, sleeping. I’m so sorry…he thought, and with that, he couldn’t believe he had such a demonic temper. He splashed water upon her fallen form, himself, disconsolate for his inhumane actions. However, Lizella did not stir. Is she unconscious…? He slapped her gently against the face a few times. It is then he noticed she was not breathing. I guess I’m not perfect like my family thought. It was evident that she passed out and had stopped breathing due to hysterical trauma and all the physical sores, beating and pain she endured upon her small frame. She hemorrhaged and the blood had darkened, pooling underneath her stomach and becoming gelatinous and thick. He glared into the mirror and saw a diagonal scar radiating from near his eye down to the ridge of his nose. He left without another word. *** He was already out in the streets and it had been a wearisome night, even trying to find a place to sleep was thankless. When a deluge erupted from the heavens that is when it had worsened. He pulled his jacket closer to his form and continued walking down the serpentine path which led to nowhere or anywhere. He had fallen asleep in the alleyway, weak and tired from hunger and his dreams remained frightful and one-dimensional. His feverish face was cooled by the licking of a wet, stringy substance that flapped near his eyes and cheeks. His eyes flickered open and there he spotted a wolf-like beast. Wolf-like because its legs and limbs were too long and gangly of that of a wolf—though the beast appeared like a fox-on-stilts, except its fur was a mixture of silver and other earthy tones and whimsical blue. “Yeah, even the dogs come to me at my darkest hour,†he whispered. However, another wolf—timber it seemed had food within its mouth and had dropped it in front of him. Isaac glanced at it and began to eat. Thank God… The wolves sprinted away. That was unusual behavior, but it was better than starving to death. *** “Nara…?†Isaac mentioned, “I’m going to leave now. Maybe I can find a job…at…Twilight Town or anywhere…but I can’t stay here. I have a problem. Lizella is dead and it’s my fault. She said people get what they deserve, and if I deserve to be shot, killed or maimed…then…you know why.†Nara breathed in slowly, a respirator attached to her limp body. “I’m sorry.†Words…meaningless, empty, hollow…words People get what they deserve *** Twilight Town was indeed a beautiful place, almost entirely filled with friendly people whose lives revolved around routine. Everything was so predictable and orderly, like a strange utopia without any form of government: people remained beneficent and reliable despite the enforcement of rules or laws, like if goodness was forced into their hearts. Isaac did stand out from the rest, however. Looking for a job was excruciatingly difficult and almost impossible. His family connections were vast, many sisters, aunts, uncles, brothers, cousins…and few nieces and nephews spawning from unintentional incest. Either way, when listing their names, he had no idea they would ask: “family problems†as in, alcoholism, gambling addiction, anger problems or disorders. Three of his aunts suffered from dissocative identity disorder, while two of his cousins were simply just immoral. He had only two brothers, and one committed suicide. All his sisters, which in total were also two, suffered from schizophrenia, one other cousin was an alcoholic and his nieces and nephews had obsessive compulsive disorders, fringing on the border to psychosis He wrote, “Insanity†upon the application. And if the outcome wasn’t obvious enough, the interviewer asked if he had “inherited†any of these undesirable traits. Well, he was supposed to be “perfect,†as his family thought, but now recently he discovered for himself he had an anger problem and would go “berserk,†under extreme stress or tension. Intelligent he was, the interview pointed that out, but when revealed he was crazy (in their words of course, he had anger issues), he was immediately rejected. There was no room for the clinically insane in their workplace. Perfect or perfection, whatever it was, he was once was, his tumultuous life was now catching up to him upon another employment application. “Have you ever committed a crime?†Does manslaughter count as a crime? He tore up the paper. It was hopeless…utterly hopeless. *** Wandering the night he had met a man who was suffering a similar fate—cast out of his own home and labeled a “freak,†by his whole family. He quickly had bonded with Isaac, calling him Ias as a nickname. Maybe both of them could find a job together, work together and even live together as roommates. Tough times had called for desperate measures. “Why do people cry?†He asked. Ias simply shrugged. “It is a natural human emotion. Everyone cries…†But of course, nothing was ever enough. Darkness had soon taken a shape and descended upon Isaac, flooding his heart and pulling emotion right out of him. He heard his voice in the distance, shouting, swearing and spewing profanities, even crying. But it wasn’t him. There was a frosty touch, similar to death, but…not physical death…but if he had died inside when the heartless ripped out his heart and every bit of human sentiment and memory with it. It was like falling into a bottomless pit, or an endless hole and hearing’s one voice reverberate forever. Drowning in what seemed like tangible darkness, twisting frantically in roaring torrent of imaginary water, he found himself looking at himself, unfettered but dissipating into nothingness. His vision grew dark, his heart stop beating and his skin became cold. No, he wasn’t dead. He could still breathe, touch and he was sensible. But…what was he now? Perhaps, Lizella was right, and she finally got her retribution. People got what they deserve.
Update I wanted to have Axel have a unqiue background. So I named his mother Altiva and put him a gang. But honestly, it seemed like he would be in a gang right? This may have some mature themes in it so...reader discretion advised. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Part Two: Aries and Mars (Number VIII) Oh Great Mother Dual Goddess of the Twin Sun and Moon Protector of all her followers, lover of many O Bast…protect us all The pool was beautiful, stretched out upon the hot dunes of the desert. The water was crystalline clear, glittering many facets as the sunbeams hit it, reflecting every spectrum of blue upon the marble pool and the temple. The temple itself was picturesque. Statues made from onyx depicted the goddess Bast. A gentle desert wind rattled the scarabs that were hiding in the sand. They scuttled out. He played in the pool, simply in his mid-teens. He enjoyed every aspect of life it seemed without a care in the world, under the sunbeams basking upon his pale skin. Baptized to Bast at an early age, things did change afterwards, dipping into the water blessed by a cat goddess and feeling one’s pupils dilate to the size of poppy-seed…it was an incredible experience in such a mad world. Alexander rested, smiling as he watched his ginger-haired mother, Altiva, clean up the offerings left over from the worshippers. They burned rose petals and delivered jasmine, myrrh and other delightful aromas. Her light mocha skin glistened in the sun as her gray eyes scanned the clean temple; she looked back at Alexander, eating berries from the stand. “Don’t be useless, come on and help,” she chuckled playfully. Twirling the sun pendant between his lanky fingers, Alexander leapt down and helped his mother polish the floors. Similar to his mother, Alexander possessed ginger hair, except much darker shade of red, almost a burnt scarlet-sienna color. His skin was fair, and his eyes were a feathered, gray with facets of emerald green upon the iris. “When you are done, you can run an errand?” Altiva asked. He looked up, his expression fairly petulant but quickly suppressed his emotions to appease his mother, “Certainly,” he responded. Though he tried to be nice, Altiva picked up faint choleric sentiment upon his intonation. “Never mind,” she stated, her tone amiable, “I’ll do it. Your father is out somewhere, I’d wish he’d come.” Of course, Alex’s father, Jasper, was either being promiscuous or gambling. It didn’t matter to him or his mother anymore. *** “The hell took you so long?” One of them scowled, tightening a bandana over his head. Alex returned his scowl with a feline like hiss and waited for the other members of the gang to assemble. It was night, but it was nowhere near silent. It was a blackout and the perfect time to wreak havoc, claim territory and gather provisions. Flashlight, a false-hearted, deceitful girl whose main purpose in life seemed to swindle the soul out of a person, pointed to the stores in which were untouched and the stores which they had demanded munny for their protection. She handed them their sticks, bats and bludgeons. “Alright, **** some **** up, right now!” Of course, rioting and gang battles were enjoyable, but the true pleasure was the acquisitions that they would obtain during their rampage. Three of the members hurled homemade smoke bombs into department stores and smashed the alarms with their bludgeons. The bunch of hooligans then entered the store and shot the department store owner while unleashing undeserved fury upon the shoppers. It wasn’t enough for Alex. Flammable materials were always used in his smoke bombs and he foresaw the damage it would do. He hurled it with all his strength and it rolled into an accessories’ shop that of course, had stocked up on potions the last week. The explosion left a blazing inferno and people within that shop had no chance of escaping. Their flesh was consumed alive the conflagration. “Yo, Alex, help us!” Flashlight shouted. With subtle grace he nimbly loped across the street where Flashlight was beckoning to him and then pointed to the highest apartment—the one that the idiots who inhabit it flashed their munny, trinkets and jewelry to flaunt. He spat on his hands, rubbing it together. “See, this why you guys need me. I’m the best thief here, got it memorized?” He snapped at Flashlight in which the cornflower blonde had no intention of arguing. Alex stepped back, having a speedy running start and leapt on the fire escape with effortlessness, scaled up the wall with remarkable alacrity and agility. When he reached the two buildings that created an alleyway, he back-flipped from the wall and pounced upon the ledge and scaled up the two pipes connected to the penthouse of this rundown apartment. Now slipping on leather gloves, he smashed the glass window and stepped into the house while the members were still in there. Releasing a barrage of profanities and frantic screaming, Alex bashed their heads in effortlessly with the bat. As they lay unconscious, bleeding copious amounts from the head he snatched their jewelry and jumped from the tallest point of the window straight onto the street. Without any injury he silently and gracefully landed feet first upon a chain-link fence and slid down. “Chow,” he said to Flashlight, tossing her the bag full of jewelry. “Way to go.” *** “Alexander,” Altiva hissed dourly, “I found this upon your clothing.” Between crimson painted fingernails, the woman held a fabric belonging to the gang, having all the colors and the patterns. The boy thought fast but it was evident that Altiva knew…and was disappointed. She sat next to the teenager. “Do you remember when you were a little boy?” Alex sighed—how could he forget. He spent endless hours basking in Bast’s temple, swimming around myrrh and perfumes and essences or his mother helping him hone his gifts and talents with vigorous physical therapy. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Good, be as good as you were when you were that age.” O mother of the twin sun and moon O mother… Sound of dripping water, the smell of perishing flowers…Alex awoke from his sleep, slipped on his clothes and headed outside. *** “Yo dude, what’s the problem?” Leader asked as Alex was smashing the skull of an innocent person in a failed attempt to mug him. “I’m angry.” “So you’re bashing the skull of a person because you are angry?” Alex shot Leader an unreadable look and could feel his pupils taper into thin seeds. He threw the bat aside and the person, who was now bleeding from the head, looked up, wanting clemency from his attack. But Alex simply grabbed him by the collar and started to shake him viciously. “Leave me alone!” Leader shrugged and simply walked away even though the man was calling for help. “Have a heart!” The man shouted. Alex let him go and spat on his face, disgusted at his own behavior and the man’s cowardice. *** He wanted to be alone for a little while, indulging into profligate actions as he and a few of his male gang member friends entered a whorehouse named the “Spiraling Sunset.” The theme seemed apocalyptic. They weren’t interested in the diseased prostitutes, or the drug-addicted whores, rather they wanted to establish protection so they skipped the entire strip dancing and went straight to the manager. “This place, I swear is worst than Hollow Bastion,” they laughed as they brandished broken bottles, knives, bats and blades upon entering the Madam’s office. Despite the name “Madam,” she was young, a dark-haired individual with slightly tanned skin and bright hazel eyes. “What is it?” She snapped but then held her tongue as she recognized the colors. “If you want to safe from those other gangs and us, you’d better start paying us 500 munny a month, understood?” Leader snapped. The way that Madam’s posture was indicated she was going to protest to that horrendous deal, but instead she once again held her tongue and refused to risk getting it slit by one of the shady looking characters. “Now, let’s start. Pay up, now.” Madam shook her head, this time firmly and resolute. “I need that munny,” she responded adamantly. Oh well, it was her demise. “I said pay up.” When there was no action or reply, the gang walked out of her office, providing her with a false sense of relief but Leader had signaled to Alex to stay. “Do stuff, anything, she doesn’t pay up, send her *** to hell.” Alex was usually a reasonable person, but orders such as these he was much too excited to carry out and pleased that this was an interesting setting to carry it out. Noticing that one of the men wouldn’t leave, the Madam had begun shuffling around for a weapon or an arrow to use against the intruder. Alex locked the door behind him, and between a slink and step advanced towards her. “Shhussssssh,” he urged, noticing how pathetically miserable she appeared. It was delightfully pitiful. After finding his way through these treacherous slums and Byzantine streets, he was finally going to give the inhabitants what they deserved. He lunged at her. *** “Dude,” Alex beckoned as he pulled up his fluid-stained pants and re-buttoned them, “She didn’t talk or pay up.” “It looks like you had fun,” Flashlight pointed out disdainfully. “So what did you do?” “You know that fireplace she has?” “Yeah?” Alex led them back to her office and they saw her body burning. Alex twirled a pouch of munny within his fingers. “Don’t worry; a new Madam will take over.” “That’s a bit too literal,” Leader scoffed. “You said ‘send her *** to hell,’ and that’s what I did. I do what I’m told, got it memorized?” “Why didn’t your mother name you Mars? You’re like a wild fire waiting to explode.” “Hilarious dude, I got to get home.” “Not what that **** on your pants,” Flashlight once against pointed out, “It stinks, you’d better wash it off and find some new underwear and you’d better check for an STD. Those whores are filled with it.” “Whatever,” Alex hissed, “You rape one woman and then you are blabbering on about STDs? Surprisingly, you should be talking about it knowing the amount guys and girls you sleep with Flashlight. You’re like Twilight Town, open 24/7, from morning to midnight…and later.” The other males laughed at Alex’s wounding words as they trotted out of the brothel. *** Maybe he should have listened to his mother. The last grand heist was surely his last. It seems like the congregation of evil happened when morals degenerated to the point that heartless could penetrate a seemingly protected town. His inner flame, his young voice was stolen and his heart, though not completely pure, wasn’t completely soiled. But now, as darkness advanced him, covered him in black flame, he wished that he could have apologized to everyone he had hurt and stolen from—but especially his mother, Altiva, whom he had grieved. But memories were de-fragmented, torn right out from him, leaving only glimpsing memories of Bast the cat goddess and his mother, whose name he had forgotten. Now left as a soul and a shell, it seemed like forever, and if he could, he would take one step back from everything and continue basking in the sun. O mother of the twin sun and moon O mother… Sound of dripping water, the smell of perishing flowers…
Part Three: Ocean’s Edge (Number IX) Waves, the color of aquamarine washed upon an amazing coral reef, beautiful, exceptional gorgeous stunning and picturesque wonders of the ocean. Upon the water, a silhouette of a merman graced the surface of the water, dodging the beams of sun raining upon the reef. Songs filled the air, birds shrieked; it was an idyllic paradise of exuberance and sensations. A sapphire blue fish scale glittered upon the surface before submerging below, sinking among the twisting seaweed and wondrous coral. Hazy blue-green eyes scanned the surface world, wanting and waiting. A small touch interrupted him from his daydream. “Come on,” a redheaded mermaid sang. “Yeah,” he said with a sheepish smile, “Last time I took you here, your father tried to feed me to hungry sharks.” He shuddered at the memory of jaws lashing towards his tailfin, “I honestly don’t want to live through that again.” Ariel smirked, interested, furtively rubbing the pale hair of Edym, faintly streaked with faded coral green. Nonetheless, she sank down into the water and swam back without him. Of course, King Triton hadn’t trust this merman. Familiar threats such as suffocation via suction cups or driving him off had always had the musical merman a bit on edge when around Ariel and her sisters. Strange, though King Triton didn’t enjoy his company, he still tolerated him—maybe because Edym was truly protective of Ariel and her sisters. He wouldn’t let anything harm them, but in all actuality, the sisters were the one who shielded him from emotional harm. Uninvited, unwished for, Edym came upon the royal grounds. Silly merman He sang to himself, lifting his marvelous voice but was soon interposed by the sound of gargling and laughter. North of the spiral shaped rock were two mermaids, drowning an innocent bystander under the cold depths of the water. They continued pushing his head into the water as even from here, Edym could see the man’s fair skin turning blue out of freezing water and the lack of air. His sporadic coughing meant either hypothermia or suffocation. They swam away, obviously bored. The man dragged himself upon the sand, throwing up salt, blood and water. From the distance, he saw the distant man fade off in a blur. *** “Edym,” Flounder called out, “Hey, hey! Come one! Edym! Edym!” “I’m coming you piece of shark bait,” the merman scowled, “So ****ing annoying at times it makes me sick.” “Ariel needs your help choosing—” “A husband?” Edym asked ecstatically, he characteristically performed an aquatic loop and a joyful dolphin noise as well. “No,” Flounder said, squelching his laughter, “Earrings—for the music show.” Edym glared at him, pushing the pudgy fish out of the way, “Way to ruin my mo-jo,” he intoned despondently as he entered upon the cavern where Ariel and her six sisters happily got a long. “Aria,” Edym greeted the green haired mermaid with white shells and pearls in her hair and a tailfin which was blue streaked with green, her brilliant green eyes glittered with happiness as she saw Edym. “You’re still alive!” She squeaked, indicating that she expected King Triton to fry him. “Hi Amana,” the merman said, providing salutations to the second oldest, sporting brown hair and light brown eyes and fair skin. Her burgundy tail fin flipped in greeting. “Good morn,’ Lithia.” “Morning Edym,” Lithia responded, the purple haired mermaid winking a brown eye at him. “Hey Eve,” he wove. Eve looked at him with a nondescript expression and Edym cringed. She was not one of the friendliest of mermaids. “Hello Arcana, Hi Alada,” Edym waved to the yellow haired twins, waving their bright tailfins. When he at last saw Ariel, he smiled. “Hey…Ariel,” he said, smiling. The moment of truth had suddenly been ruined by Sebastian—an overbearing crab (literally)—swimming between them and informing the redheaded mermaid about a performance. Edym scowled visibly, always referring to Sebastian as a “cock-blocker,” and “crab-with-a-fake-***-Tropical-accent.” Even though the rest of the sisters were eligible single mermaids, his interest and sense of bonding was with Ariel, in which, could seemingly never be achieved with her insufferable friends and her overprotective father and a dead mother—(who couldn’t vouch for him). When the sisters were pulled away, he was greeted by a sympathetic Flounder who floated side with him. “You know, she may like someone else.” Edym glared at him, “You aren’t helping.” “You know I’m right.” “Go **** off you ****ing annoying, stupid fat **** who doesn’t know how to **** off when I’m trying to get a ****!” “There were so many curses in that sentence my ‘stupid-self’ couldn’t understand,” Flounder responded, tears rippling at the edge of his eyelids. Edym sighed, banging his head upon coral, “I had to open my mouth.” *** “Okay,” Edym repeated, once again, taking a deep breath, “Ariel,” he began to himself, “We’ve been friends since we were hatchlings…and I think we should…you know, become a little bit more. You have a beautiful voice…and…” The frustrated merman scowled and dispersed the small plankton laughing at his futile attempt to court a princess. As saucy as Ariel was, she was especially a good-natured being and that deserved anyone’s time. Even Edym, though he was a root from the lowest bloodline, not even remotely associated with royalty or even class. He slowed down his swim and picked up his hand-made stringed instrument, which was an intriguing cross between a guitar and a banjo. He began playing a song after tuning it, which always cleared his head. “All your sisters have some things That they may or may not trade Aria has beautiful eyes That glitter like stars in the night sky Amana has a wonderful mind So intelligent, thinks of things at the nick of time Lithia has lovely hair and I’m sure of that Eve has a perfect smile and all that jazz Arcana and Alada have laughter and humor that will brighten your day But you, my Ariel, have beauty and voice that will forever stay Won’t you be mine…? Forever to the end of time And…” “Good Lord, what the hell is that racket?” Flotsam, a cruel eel snickered. Edym scurried back, as everyone knew, he was terrified of those slithery, wet snakes. “Trying to charm the girl of your dreams?” Jetsam snickered. “Well, we have the trick!” They both chanted in unanimous expression. “What?” “Well, in your song, you mentioned the best attributes of King Triton’s daughters…” Jetsam took the liberty of hissing the end of that sentence to add a sense of vindictive malevolence to his countenance. “Repeat them…in fact, right them down. If you do, we’ll tell you how to win Ariel’s heart.” Edym nodded. “Well, Aria has beautiful eyes, unmatched, throughout the whole ocean.” Check “Amana is so…smart and creative.” Check “Lithia has this unique, lovely hair, long and purple like Libran Violets.” Check. “Eve has a wonderful smile, beautiful teeth and nice, shiny lips, I just wish she’d smile more.” Check “Arcana and Alada have laughter and happiness that it’s impossible to be sad…” Check “Ariel has this wonderful voice.” “And what about you?” The eels crooned devilishly, “What do you have?” “Plenty of heart,” he said with pride. “Then give it up. Give up your heart…and you will win Ariel…” *** Over the past few weeks, there was a dramatic change. One by one, the sea witch had concocted plots to obtain the traits of sisters, promising them what they most desired. She inquired and learned their motives, interests and fears, drawing a steady conclusion upon what they would most desire. Aria had given up her eyes and sight to obtain riches and gold and jewelry, only to realize she had no sense in which she could gaze upon its beauty. Amana gave up her mind to obtain immense masses of love and desire, but could no longer express herself the way she once could. Lithia had given up her purple hair, leaving it dull, dry and flakey to have wings so she could fly, but along with her hair, went her health. Eve gave up her teeth and smile to acquire happiness, but could no longer articulate her ecstasy or delight because she gave up her smile. Arcana and Alada mutually agreed to obtain human form in which they could share secrets to the world, but they could no longer laugh or provide happiness, which deemed them useless. And there was tears and gnashing of teeth. Detached, cold and embittered, Ariel was the last—and she could give up her voice to become human…to explore the world above…and find love. But Edym would do anything for her—even give up his heart to the darkness to acquire her love, but when he had done so, he shed his merfolk skin and lost all emotion, love and empathy and was forced to go to the surface, to breathe. When giving up his heart, he felt himself imprisoned, shouting and screaming for mercy. His pain was unbearable. It was if he was forced to Maleboldge and dipped into boiling pitch. All his memories and sentiment was torn right out of him, but the memory of a halo of red hair and lust had not vanished. Edym was certain that he had acquired what Ariel wanted—to love a human. But…everything that he was promised was a lie, a caricature. There she saw Ariel, with a handsome prince, in which she displayed no more interest Edym, or even remembrance. And there, he lay in the dirty sand, watching the waves advance and recede, wondering, what lay before the ocean’s edge. To me, Nobodies are the embodiment of a virture they had BEFORE a heart and when they lost it a vice. Really bad vice. The following prose/poetry shows what their motives and morals are and where they stand. Or some shiznat like that. Just...reaaaaaaaaaaaad. Nobody [No-Bod-De] Latin: Nothus/Verb To become a Nobody they must lose: I: Losing conscience: Seperation, lament and no hope of reconcilation II: Losing desire to live: Floating in a void of space and eternity III: Losing inner happiness: Suffocating, having the air ripped out of one's lungs IV: Losing morale: Freezing to death, cold numbness and the chill of darkness V: Loss of inner strength: Being crushed and blinded by dust and darkness VI: Losing all sense of self: Clouded by illusion. VII: Loss of sanity: hearing's one's voice when they are not speaking VIII: Losing morality: Being engulfed in burning darkness and fighting one's way to get up IX: Loss of heart: Being immersed in boiling pitch or boiling water, drowning X: Losing one's integerity: Attatched to the chains of fate, forever to lose in games XI: Loss of honor: Thorns tear out flesh, pierces skin and draw blood with poisons XII: Losing diginity and love: Hot hell rips through them, tumultlous and sickening XIII: Gaining Wisdom: An ephiphiany--of the knowledge of hope. Those are the things that make us human Without those things, we are nothing A Nobody's Sins "Nobodies have no emotions, they cannot feel guilt, remorse or sorrow" "They'll do whatever it takes to get what they want" "Strange, how they want a heart" "What did they do wrong?" "Some kill, some abuse, some destroy, some use" "Is that all, humans do that too." "Nobodies have no emotion. They cannot feel guilt, remorse or sorrow." "No heart, no desire." "When do they do wrong?" "Anytime they look into a human being, and steal what they have." "What do they have?" "A heart." "Is that all? Humans do that too." "Nobodies have no emotion. They cannot feel happiness, sorrow, lament or grief." "Strange, yet they have a soul." "Empty. They are a hollow spectral. Cursed to fade back to darkness" "To whom do they do wrong?" "To humanity." "They are inhumane?" "They aren't human." "Monsters?" "Yes. Monsters." "Are they fearsome? Grostque?" "They look normal. But inside, they want and yearn." "No heart, no desire." "Why do they do wrong?" "To obtain what they want. A heart, love, acceptance." "Are they evil?" "No. They are simply there." "They are monsters? The kind that haunt you?" "Yes. The kind that will always haunt you." "How do they do wrong?" "They plot and conspire, they swindle and divide, they lust and rape, they capture and destroy, they induldge and break the hearts of many. They steal and kill. They burn and they drown. They suffocate and they inclose. They trick the mind and destroy the heart." "Humans do that too." "Nobodies have no true emotion. They will do it without contemplation or remorse." "Where do they do wrong?" "Everywhere and Nowhere. Anywhere and Everywhere." "And if they do wrong--" "There is no if. They will do wrong." "They do whatever it takes to get what they want?" "What do they want?" "A heart so they can stop killing, stealing, murdering, rape, decieving, abuse, use, scheming, conniving, destroying, torturing, tricking, swindling, betraying, lying and indulging. So they can feel and love and live." "But they do that to get a heart." "Yes. And that is why they are cursed to fade back to darkness." Hah. I know that sounds kind of gloomy. It's between Yen Sid and Sora (because he is a ******). Honestly, how KH2 displays them, they ARE like monsters. Especially Saix. He's the biggest ****ing monster of them all. In CoM did you see all the **** they try to pull? To me, the Nobodies each represent a vice (not only the Seven Deadly Sins but also other vices). Like for example: Xemnas: Pride Xigbar: Sloth Xaldin: Despair Vexen: Envy Lexaeus: Apathy Zexion: Idolatry Saix: Wrath (or ***-kissing, one of those) Axel: Lust Demyx: Ignorance Luxord: Greed Marluxia: Gluttony Larxene: Insincerity In my take in the backgrounds that I provide for their Others, represent the opposite of what they truly are without their heart: Alex: Love (his love for his mother) Isaac: Loyalty Edym: Knowledge Lord: Charity Ralium: Temperance Larxene: Sincerity Yeaaaaah. Take their heart away, they lose their traits. Son of a *****. right? Right. Why did I chose these? You tell me.
