[There isn't even an answering machine message here, only some horrible recreation of the theme from that one SBaHJ video he did made completely of clips of different bird calls.]
[He's waiting for her, too agitated to sit, his arms crossed over his chest and tail twitching slightly like a cat's. He looks up when he sees her and unfolds his arms to offer her a hand.]
[ She's not in the street clothes she's taken to wearing. She's in her full Organization uniform - the first time in weeks she's bothered to put on the whole outfit. That alone says something for her mood. When she steps onto the roof and closes the portal behind her, she has to lower her hood - which she'd apparently been using to hide her face.
Without thinking, she takes his hand. ]
... hey.
[ She can only look at him for a second before her gaze falls, and her grip tightens just a little bit. ]
... I have a lot to explain. I should have told you sooner, but... I guess I was hoping it wouldn't need to come up.
[After a moment, he lowers his line of sight, too, until he's looking at their hands--the way the black leather of her gloves catches the faint light from his fingers.]
Don't worry about it. We've all been there.
[He tightens his grip as well, just enough to reassure her that he's there, and looks at her face again.]
[ Practicality. Good. It's what she needs. To think about this strategically, instead of emotionally. ]
His name is Xigbar. He works... for the organization I used to work for. Organization XIII. [ After a moment's pause, Xion adjusts so she can sit, gently tugging on his hand to encourage him to set beside her. ]
... he was one of my superiors. I worked with him sometimes on missions. He ... he wasn't so bad. [ She says, fidgeting. ] ... but like I said, he doesn't remember who I am anymore. And he'll want to know why... I wear our cloak. Xigbar... is the type of person who would do whatever he had to, to find out something he wanted to know.
[ Xion pauses, taking a deep breath. ]
I need to explain... what happened. With me, and with the Organization. Because... if Xigbar remembers who I am, and what I did... [ One corner of her mouth turns down sharply as she looks at him. ] ... it could be trouble.
[Davesprite sits with her, curling his tail in front of them like a rampart. While he's listening, almost half his attention is bent on watching her, too--the way she fidgets when she tries to make whatever it is she's talking about sound less bad than it is, the hesitations as she talks about it.
He brings his other hand up to join the first, holding hers between both of his and smoothing the back of her glove with both his thumbs.]
We won't let anything happen to you.
[It's a promise. Maybe House 12 is down a few people, but between him and Dirk, he's sure one guy can't be that much trouble. They take care of their own, and Xion is one of theirs, now.]
Does he have any powers or anything, like you? How good is he?
[ When he brings up his other hand to join his first, she directs all of her attention to him for just a moment. She is seized by the urge to curl into him, to hold close until these things she's feeling - stress, agitation, concern, frustration, and a little bit of fear - go away. She has this feeling like if she just held onto him long enough, all those things would go away.
But she does not curl into him. Instead she swallows hard and shakes her head. ]
... I know you won't. But I don't want you to get hurt, either.
[ A breath. ] Everyone in the Organization had powers like me. It was just Roxas and I who could wield the Keyblade... but everyone else had weapons and powers, too. Xigbar is a sharp shooter. I ... I beat him, once. But I took him by surprise...
[ She shakes her head. ] I knocked him out so I could run away... Davesprite, I betrayed the Organization. More than once. If he remembers that I did that.... that I hurt him to do that... I don't know what he'll do. He's strong.
Sharpshooter, huh. [He keeps rubbing his thumbs over her hand as he thinks and listens.] I wish Jade were here. She was our Annie Oakley.
[Her hand is so small, it's fascinating. He sort of can't believe it's real, it looks so tiny and slender and delicate, even though he can feel the strength there from fighting. He runs the pads of his thumbs gently down the bones in the back of her hand, gently massages her palm.]
Is he stronger than me?
[But that question isn't worth much to him, and he follows it immediately with:]
She doesn't know what she wants. Being with him makes her want something she cannot describe. He explores her hand with his own and she has to huff a breath out through her nose. Gently, she untangles herself from him, but only so she can peel her gloves off. Once her hands are free - the only part of her aside from her face not hidden by black leather - she reaches out again, taking one of his hands in both of hers and mimicking his actions from before. Though only briefly, before she pauses and simply curls her fingers, warm and gentle, against the back of his hand. ]
.... I don't know. The thing is, they're such different kinds of fighters.... besides, if something happens, I should be the one to take him on. [ The look she gives him is fierce. Prideful. Not arrogant, just ... steely. ] I'm the one he'll be after. He's my problem. I know you and Dirk will want to protect me, but... you shouldn't have to.
[It's not the mirroring of the hand-holding, so obviously affectionate now that he sees her do it, that makes his stomach--or whatever--flip stumblingly inside him. It's the way she handles him like he's something valuable and dear.
No one is ever so careful with him.
He turns his hand to hold her fingers in his palm, then closes his hand gently around hers. His voice is hushed and shorn completely of any of his usual fronting.]
[He's spoken about this before, but not so barely. In other retellings he shielded himself by digging into how stupid it was, the ridiculous trappings of his ridiculous world; here, the details feel too raw. He skims over them, leaves them unstated.]
[ Now she understands. She isn't going to ask about his best friend; he's mentioned it before, and the way he's always couched it has made her think he probably doesn't really want to talk about it. But she gets why he's telling her the story now, without the usual obfuscating sarcasm.
Xion sighs through her nose, indecisive for just a moment before she shifts her body -- closer. Leaning forward, she bumps her forehead gently against his. ]
I'm not going to get killed. I promise. I wouldn't ever leave intending to fight him. And if I did, I'd tell you or Dirk first. I'm just saying that... if it came down to a fight, I could handle myself, and I don't want you to get hurt for my sake.
[She's too close. He doesn't say anything about it, because he can't. He just closes his eyes, lowers his forehead against hers, and lets pieces fall off his heart.]
I don't want you to get hurt at all.
[He lifts his head then so he can look at her, squeezing her hand gently.]
I don't want any of my friends to get hurt. That's what I'm here for. So it doesn't happen.
... no. [ She says, quiet and firm and just a little fond. ] You don't have to be here to protect me, Dave. You just have to be my friend. That's all I want. [ She huffs out a sigh, shutting her eyes. ] That's all I need, too.
[ For a moment she says there, leaning against him and drinking in his warmth. His solidity calms the anxiety she's been feeling in the restless, blurry hours since she left Xigbar on the clock tower. ]
I don't want to get hurt. And maybe... maybe if I could just keep talking to him, I wouldn't have to. No one would have to. Maybe he'll listen to me. [ She leans back, sitting up straight, though their hands remain linked. ] ... I don't know for sure, but I think I have to try.
[None of that is anything he wants to hear, but there's something about "I think I have to try" that he can't argue with. He breathes out through his nose and lowers his gaze--it's a concession, but he's not exactly happy about it.]
All right. If that's what you've got to do.
[He sets his jaw stubbornly.]
You can't tell me not to keep an eye on him, though. I'm not undoing two years of neurotic jackassery just 'cause you asked me nice.
[ Her smile flickers and fades, though does not disappear entirely. ]
... I don't know yet. I guess I'm hoping... that all of this will be pointless.
[ Still. She sighs out, then squirms a little, trying to get comfier on the cold, hard roof. Once that's done, she adjusts their hands, too - letting go with one, but using the other to thread her fingers through his, and holding tight.
Then she leans on his shoulder and watches the sky. ]
... thank you, Dave. For listening. And ... being here for me.
[He isn't thrown until he feels her weight against him. Davesprite's gotten used to the intimacy of so much counsel and hand-holding, but the easy way Xion leans on him, her unassuming closeness--she just bypasses all his usual locks and hits him at his core. It jars him because she always strikes him exactly where he needs it.
Xion trusts him. Xion relies on him.
Slowly, carefully, because she has his hand, Davesprite spreads his wing behind her so it covers her back. It's a cloak, perhaps--or a shield. A comfort.]
Of course.
[His voice is as light and gentle as it ever gets, and quietly fond.]
[ A soft sound escapes her - almost, but not quite, a gasp - when his wing envelops her. She looks around and up in wonder, and then huffs the quietest of laughs as she lifts her free hand to brush at his downy inside feathers. Then she smiles up at him, broad and warm, and her cheeks are noticeably pink. ]
[His wing twitches a little and he lets out a little laugh through his nose--almost all his laughter is like that, unvoiced and breathless and brief--because he isn't used to being touched on that side of his wings, and it tickles. He bumps her shoulder gently with his.]
Good. 'Cause you see, you passed the Strider pad endurance test, and first prize is getting pretty much stuck with us for the rest of forever. Sorry about it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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why
whats up
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... can you meet me on the roof?
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is it a friend
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I'll be there in a minute.
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[He's waiting for her, too agitated to sit, his arms crossed over his chest and tail twitching slightly like a cat's. He looks up when he sees her and unfolds his arms to offer her a hand.]
Hey.
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Without thinking, she takes his hand. ]
... hey.
[ She can only look at him for a second before her gaze falls, and her grip tightens just a little bit. ]
... I have a lot to explain. I should have told you sooner, but... I guess I was hoping it wouldn't need to come up.
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Don't worry about it. We've all been there.
[He tightens his grip as well, just enough to reassure her that he's there, and looks at her face again.]
What's our situation?
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His name is Xigbar. He works... for the organization I used to work for. Organization XIII. [ After a moment's pause, Xion adjusts so she can sit, gently tugging on his hand to encourage him to set beside her. ]
... he was one of my superiors. I worked with him sometimes on missions. He ... he wasn't so bad. [ She says, fidgeting. ] ... but like I said, he doesn't remember who I am anymore. And he'll want to know why... I wear our cloak. Xigbar... is the type of person who would do whatever he had to, to find out something he wanted to know.
[ Xion pauses, taking a deep breath. ]
I need to explain... what happened. With me, and with the Organization. Because... if Xigbar remembers who I am, and what I did... [ One corner of her mouth turns down sharply as she looks at him. ] ... it could be trouble.
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He brings his other hand up to join the first, holding hers between both of his and smoothing the back of her glove with both his thumbs.]
We won't let anything happen to you.
[It's a promise. Maybe House 12 is down a few people, but between him and Dirk, he's sure one guy can't be that much trouble. They take care of their own, and Xion is one of theirs, now.]
Does he have any powers or anything, like you? How good is he?
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But she does not curl into him. Instead she swallows hard and shakes her head. ]
... I know you won't. But I don't want you to get hurt, either.
[ A breath. ] Everyone in the Organization had powers like me. It was just Roxas and I who could wield the Keyblade... but everyone else had weapons and powers, too. Xigbar is a sharp shooter. I ... I beat him, once. But I took him by surprise...
[ She shakes her head. ] I knocked him out so I could run away... Davesprite, I betrayed the Organization. More than once. If he remembers that I did that.... that I hurt him to do that... I don't know what he'll do. He's strong.
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[Her hand is so small, it's fascinating. He sort of can't believe it's real, it looks so tiny and slender and delicate, even though he can feel the strength there from fighting. He runs the pads of his thumbs gently down the bones in the back of her hand, gently massages her palm.]
Is he stronger than me?
[But that question isn't worth much to him, and he follows it immediately with:]
Is he stronger than bro?
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She doesn't know what she wants. Being with him makes her want something she cannot describe. He explores her hand with his own and she has to huff a breath out through her nose. Gently, she untangles herself from him, but only so she can peel her gloves off. Once her hands are free - the only part of her aside from her face not hidden by black leather - she reaches out again, taking one of his hands in both of hers and mimicking his actions from before. Though only briefly, before she pauses and simply curls her fingers, warm and gentle, against the back of his hand. ]
.... I don't know. The thing is, they're such different kinds of fighters.... besides, if something happens, I should be the one to take him on. [ The look she gives him is fierce. Prideful. Not arrogant, just ... steely. ] I'm the one he'll be after. He's my problem. I know you and Dirk will want to protect me, but... you shouldn't have to.
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No one is ever so careful with him.
He turns his hand to hold her fingers in his palm, then closes his hand gently around hers. His voice is hushed and shorn completely of any of his usual fronting.]
I let someone go off alone, once, and he died.
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His voice.
Unthinking, she tugs their joined hands a little closer to her chest in a protective motion, and her face is full of sympathy. ]
... a friend?
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[He's spoken about this before, but not so barely. In other retellings he shielded himself by digging into how stupid it was, the ridiculous trappings of his ridiculous world; here, the details feel too raw. He skims over them, leaves them unstated.]
It happened a lot, after that.
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[ Now she understands. She isn't going to ask about his best friend; he's mentioned it before, and the way he's always couched it has made her think he probably doesn't really want to talk about it. But she gets why he's telling her the story now, without the usual obfuscating sarcasm.
Xion sighs through her nose, indecisive for just a moment before she shifts her body -- closer. Leaning forward, she bumps her forehead gently against his. ]
I'm not going to get killed. I promise. I wouldn't ever leave intending to fight him. And if I did, I'd tell you or Dirk first. I'm just saying that... if it came down to a fight, I could handle myself, and I don't want you to get hurt for my sake.
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I don't want you to get hurt at all.
[He lifts his head then so he can look at her, squeezing her hand gently.]
I don't want any of my friends to get hurt. That's what I'm here for. So it doesn't happen.
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[ For a moment she says there, leaning against him and drinking in his warmth. His solidity calms the anxiety she's been feeling in the restless, blurry hours since she left Xigbar on the clock tower. ]
I don't want to get hurt. And maybe... maybe if I could just keep talking to him, I wouldn't have to. No one would have to. Maybe he'll listen to me. [ She leans back, sitting up straight, though their hands remain linked. ] ... I don't know for sure, but I think I have to try.
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All right. If that's what you've got to do.
[He sets his jaw stubbornly.]
You can't tell me not to keep an eye on him, though. I'm not undoing two years of neurotic jackassery just 'cause you asked me nice.
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That's okay. Just don't get caught. Hehe.
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He'd have to be one hell of a hound dog to catch me.
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... I don't know yet. I guess I'm hoping... that all of this will be pointless.
[ Still. She sighs out, then squirms a little, trying to get comfier on the cold, hard roof. Once that's done, she adjusts their hands, too - letting go with one, but using the other to thread her fingers through his, and holding tight.
Then she leans on his shoulder and watches the sky. ]
... thank you, Dave. For listening. And ... being here for me.
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Xion trusts him. Xion relies on him.
Slowly, carefully, because she has his hand, Davesprite spreads his wing behind her so it covers her back. It's a cloak, perhaps--or a shield. A comfort.]
Of course.
[His voice is as light and gentle as it ever gets, and quietly fond.]
Where else would I ever want to be?
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Hehe. I don't know! But... I like it here, too.
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Good. 'Cause you see, you passed the Strider pad endurance test, and first prize is getting pretty much stuck with us for the rest of forever. Sorry about it.
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