boxofsleep | (no subject)

"I saw the sand. I guess I didn't ... really register it," Kousyxe remarked with a shrug. Not like he'd been registering much, really, without it being pointed out to him. What was supposed to matter? What wasn't? It was all blending into a whole. About time he started paying attention, really, though... "Get what you're saying, though. I'd like to see the palace sometime..."

He didn't really want to meet the guard's eyes, all the same, though. Even if the man wasn't paying them any attention, he really didn't want to cause trouble on his first day.

Demyx offered a friendly but clearly perfunctory greeting without even breaking his stride, as though there weren't a thing in the world he expected he could be stopped for; the guard mumbled a response more for the sake of being polite than anything else, hardly looking up as they passed. It was the very picture of casual neglect; ignorance was bliss. What the man didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

He didn't even bother waiting until they were out of earshot to begin speaking again, or to lower his voice. A little calculated brazenness, after all, was important to avoid attention of the wrong sort for being too meek. "We should probably be able to see it sometime later today, I'll bet. More incentive to get things out of the way fast, right?" Demyx laughed; better to work smarter, not harder. Then Kousyxe could have his fun, and he wouldn't have to stand over him in the heat watching him practice, when chances were he could do a lot of it himself.

Once they were a little farther out, though, he picked up their previous subject. "We're only out here to learn the basics today, so you technically don't need to start paying attention to that sort of thing just yet. But I think I like you, so I'll let you in on a little secret that most of the older guys don't always seem to remember, alright?" He let go of Arpeggio with one hand to gesture around in a wide sweep. The harsh golden glare of the mid-morning sun, the crunch of sand underfoot, the breeze blowing through the endless expanse of dunes stretching around them, the bright blue sky.....

"You don't have to care about any of this, okay? It doesn't need to matter to you. Love or hate it as much as you want, it doesn't make any difference. What's important is that you realize it's there, and understand what it means. That way, you know what to do about it, even if that's nothing at all. That's just as important in the Castle as it is out on missions--probably even more so, because you can't just run away from things getting dangerous when you RTC; you've got to actually live with these people. Even if you disregard 95% of what you see, you've got to get good at reading people and situations, for your own safety."

Seeing the previously casual Demyx turn serious pulled Kousyxe up from his idle gazing around the sandy vista - he stopped and listened even more carefully than before.

Understand what it means.

That was the problem, when it came down to it. Right now, what could mean anything to him? Love or hate... strange words for Demyx to use, too, for someone who'd lived this half-life so much longer. Only the concept of existing itself was worth it, as far as he could cling to that idea... but what Demyx was saying had enough impact there.
This wasn't going to be a safe, comfortable life. This wasn't going to be the day to day grind of Yosuke's existence. He'd have to learn to adapt.

"...I get the picture," he said, quietly.

The ones who called the shots around here..... they weren't joking around. They were in a bad, bad way, the two of them--the whole lot of them, really--, and not just because they'd lost their hearts. Coming back 'home' in a lot of ways was more dangerous than being sent out on missions to begin with--at least, the ones that Demyx preferred to go on. Kousyxe had to understand that, if he was going to last very long here: he couldn't just sleep through this like he might have with classes. That was the fast track to getting killed or turned into a Dusk. Even if they couldn't feel, it was just a basic fact: the place they lived and the company they kept was terrifying.

Even lazy, goofy Demyx could bare a side that was ice-cold and razor sharp, when he was pushed into it. He'd been forced to learn how to develop one, because he didn't have anyone to protect him. Kousyxe needed to learn that skill too, for his own sake--because realistically, if it came right down to it, Demyx knew that he probably wouldn't be protecting the kid, either. Everyone here had to save themselves, or there'd be no salvation at all, if there was ever any to begin with.

"Good." Demyx rested his hand on Kousyxe's shoulder--maybe in sympathy, or commiseration, or just reassurance. Either way, it only took a moment for the light switch to be flipped again; once more, Demyx was all easy smiles and lazy cheer, giving Yosuke an encouraging clap. "Lucky for you, you're with the expert! I'm the reconnaissance guy around here. It's not too hard, once you get the hang of it and figure out some rules of thumb."

He smiled as they walk, sly and mischievous. "Take our own crew, for example. Xaldin's smart as a whip, and he's good at talking people into doing things; he's probably one of the most persuasive guys we've got now. But the way he pushes his opinion on people and tries to break them down..... he's too aggressive about it to not have some personal stake in what he's talking about. He probably had some kind of bad experience while he had a heart. He's so stuck in what he thinks that he just can't see any other possibilities."

"So I'm calling it now--one of these days, him being that stubborn means he's going to ignore something important, and it's gonna come back and bite him in the ass. He's gonna deny that love and hearts could ever actually be good for anything, and he'll get his ass kicked or something by some lovers, or maybe siblings, or parents and children. Or maybe just best friends, I dunno; love can take weird shapes sometimes."

And that, right there, was one reason Demyx was so reluctant to actually believe in anything himself. Committing too strongly to anything, delving too deeply into any one viewpoint..... that blinded you to everything else. That chained you down. You had to be ready to flow and move, to be touched by and accept everything around you. That kind of commitment might give you power, but it sure as anything didn't give you safety, or perspective, or freedom.

What was safe, right now? What was free? All things that Kousyxe would have to learn the meaning of all over again, as they applied to the Organization's life. An alien thought, but - what choice would he have?

Again, he nodded along as he listened. "I ... guess. You know him, after all," he said, with a little bit of a shrug. Even with everything that Demyx's said, Xaldin was just a scowling figure in the vague background of these past few days. Not that he didn't appreciate the advice, of course... perhaps it'd all make more sense in time, he thought. Perhaps he'd see what Demyx was talking about.

It was at least clear enough that he was going to have to really watch his back around a lot of these people.

"Heh, yeah..... You'll either see what I mean, or if you're lucky, you won't have to get to know him even that well. Here's hoping, right?" Demyx shook his head, offering something between a wince and a grin. He wouldn't wish most of their co-workers on almost anyone. For that matter, he wouldn't wish almost any of this on anyone, not that it mattered. Kousyxe would just have to deal with it and figure things out for himself, whether he wanted to or deserved it or not. He'd say it was good for him, but really, all it was good for was making sure he either sank or swam.

Soon enough, Demyx stopped, turning to glance behind them; the walls of Agrabah loomed in the distance, rough and dusty and imposing. Nowhere near enough to hear a normal shout..... They'd be able to tell that someone was coming long before anyone got close enough to tell what they were doing, given that they didn't need that much detail. Even if someone came to investigate, they ought to be able to run away before anything came of it. That should probably be plenty of breathing room. "Okay, I think we're good to go. I'll provide the targets, and you can show off some while we figure out what's what."

"First thing's first, though....." Demyx planted Arpeggio on the ground and scrounged around in his pockets with his free hand, pulling out a pair of earplugs. With any of the older members, he probably would've gotten smacked for it, or at least been eyerolled at; why else would he carry around earplugs, after all, except to better ignore people like Xemnas or Saïx? In this case, though, it was just a practical matter; thanks to wanting to avoid lectures, he'd be able to at least partly protect himself from Kousyxe's powers.

Edited 2014-02-02 22:45 (UTC)

Here's hoping, indeed. Demyx's first comment got a "Right," in reply. Who in the group would he even need to know? Thirteen of them, all on their own paths, their own missions... including the - group he'd arrived with. Man, he was going to have some stories to tell them later, he was sure.

At Demyx's rummaging, he peered over - what was he up to? How was that going to help anything? But - alright, good thinking! Although it did bring up the question of why Demyx even had them when he hadn't known what powers he was going to be dealing with... "Shame they took my headphones. I'd have let you borrow them," Kousyxe said with a smile. ... Assuming, of course, Demyx was careful. Not that it exactly mattered, any more.

He stretched his hands out, flicked a knife up in his hand to catch it - man, that trick went a lot more smoothly than the last time he'd tried to do it! "So what's up first?"

Hey, hey, he was always careful with sound equipment! He understood how precious things like those could be. Kousyxe didn't have a thing to worry about there. For a moment, he left Arpeggio set where she was, taking a moment to fit the earplugs in snugly. That done, he grabbed the sitar again, giving it an expert twirl before striking a pose.

"Alright! For our first number, some good old-fashioned freestyle! Time to work out some kinks and see what you can do. Give me anything you've got, whatever magic you can manage to pull out, those knives, whatever. You're on offense first, so no time limit yet, and no need to hang back and cover yourself--just destroy the clones."

After all, pushing him to use magic before he's given any panels? That ought to force him to tap into his affinity early, just out of necessity. Demyx strummed his sitar, a deep rippling note, before starting to play. It was a strong, driving rhythm, upbeat and fast and crackling with energy--a dance beat, if there ever was one. Suddenly, the air was alive with shimmering iridescent bubbles, swirling around him and Kousyxe both.

They soon congregated into three swirling masses, popping and releasing a flood of water that definitely hadn't been there a minute ago. The water shaped itself into..... well, him. Hims? Three identical Demyxes appeared, easily distinguished by the fact that Demyx hadn't bothered to make them look realistic in the slightest; they looked more like water that had been poured into person-shaped glasses than actual people. They sprang into action immediately regardless, scattering into quick evasive maneuvers as the music played.

Now, how cool was that? How many people got to fight to soundtracks?

"...Wait, clones?" Kousyxe glanced around at the sudden surge of bubbles, and at the forming figures, his eyes widening.
If they'd looked any more like real people, it might have brought up images of the past. But ... as it was, without any gut feelings on the matter, without any feelings - they were just shapes. Targets. As for the rest of the scenario...

He realised that this was the first music he'd heard since ... since then. Almost involuntarily, he found himself tapping his foot to the beat - feeling the rhythm...
Battles didn't usually come with their own soundtracks, true, but he'd often brought his own along. It'd helped him focus, helped get him in the mood. And now, the melody was doing more than even that... it felt like it was going right through him in ways it hadn't before. It couldn't fill the void within him - what would be able to? - but just for a moment, it didn't matter...

"Got it."

Kousyxe dashed after the first of the clones. Not going to try anything fancy yet, just plain old knife strikes, the same as he'd have done with any weapons he'd had to hand. He wasn't sure how well it would affect water, but... first try, right? Unconsciously, he found himself matching his blows to the beat he was hearing - that he was feeling.
If they weren't going to strike back, this wasn't going to be a problem.

Unsurprising, given his element--after all, Demyx moved his creations with sound. How much more could he do with--or to?--Kouxyxe, given his affinity? The entire battle would play out to the sound of the beat he was laying out, from Kousyxe's slashes and stabs to the way the clones ran.

They weren't striking back just yet, but it still wasn't going to be that easy; Demyx was adopting a dance beat for a reason, after all. The clones were fast, and tricky, prone to weaving in confusing and unpredictable patterns. Still, Kousyxe was a fast guy himself, and those knives were no ordinary knives.

If they had been, this probably would have been a doomed strategy right from the start--the clones were nothing but water, after all, and he probably would've just fallen right through them, flailing and splashing. But those weapons were special, magical enough to strike solid and true. There was a violent splash, a spray of water hitting Kousyxe's face--probably not such a bad thing, in the heat of the desert sun--as one slash arced straight through the clone's chest, and it promptly collapsed.....

.....into a shimmering watery music note, a target that was far smaller, and far more of a headache to catch than the clones were, zipping erratically through the air like some kind of bizarre hummingbird. Just stabbing them might not cut it, unless Kousyxe wanted to try and run himself ragged and hope he got lucky.

Kousyxe spluttered a little as the splash hit him, before seeing what his target had been reduced to - oh, that was just rubbing it in!

...Was it, though? Was this a taunt or a hint? As he ducked and dived, trying to get a hit out on the tiny target, his mind was racing. Demyx wouldn't be setting him an impossible challenge, would he? And Demyx was manipulating these things, they couldn't think, they were just constructs of water...

No. Water and music.

And if he couldn't hit one of those...

He stopped, listening to Demyx's rhythm for a moment - feeling it... and... there. With a lightning-quick motion, he stabbed at the air, at the music itself - catching it on his blade, and redirecting the force into a shockwave, a harsh scream that he sent rocketing towards the little note fluttering past. Little waves of light outlined his attack, faint phantasmal notes shone for a second - but would it do any good?

To be fair, it was what his clones almost always reduced to by default, when they hit--but sure, it could be a taunt or a hint! Why not? It fit, didn't it? As long as Kousyxe thought so, and as long as it motivated him, Demyx was perfectly happy to let that idea stand.

His challenges were hard, yes, but rarely impossible, especially not now that he was training someone he actually liked. The music note flit around, only inches from where Kousyxe slashed one moment, high overhead the next, skimming the sand by his feet the next. It swooped and dove without any regard for the laws of physics.....

Until Yosuke figured it out.

It was like someone tearing an object out of his hands, yanking away a blanket he'd been in the middle of trying to fold. Demyx's fingers stuttered on his sitar strings in surprise, and for a moment, the music faltered; so too did the way the clones and music note moved, suddenly coasting along in a straight line as their own momentum carried them.

The scream was enough to make him wince, but on the other hand, the shockwave was actually pretty impressive; the little note shattered the moment the shockwave hit, dissolving into a spray of water that rained down on Kousyxe and the sand alike. One down, two to go.....

That'd worked? It'd worked! Kousyxe paused briefly, pumping a hand in the air as best he could with it still clutching the blade, before sighting in in his next target. Not going to go after it close-up, this time: perhaps he could pull something like that again?

Okay, that one there. He pulled a second chord out of the air, folding it up, launching it screeching in the first clone's direction in the same way as the last shockwave had gone. The next one, though - okay, he couldn't really do the same thing for a third time. Maybe if he just... what could he do, what was in here-

"Ah!"

There. Weaker than pulling at the melodies he could actively hear, but it'd work - he slashed at the air, his knife singing, a wholly self-generated sonic shockwave rushing towards the last of the clones.

Demyx didn't stop playing, this time. Now that he was prepared for it, it was easier to hear the music twist and warp, break into a screech like the sound of feedback from a microphone and speaker brought too close together. It was kind of painful, but thankfully, the earplugs took the worst of the edge off. The self-generated one wasn't quite as bad, at least.....

Then again, maybe making his sitar make those kinds of noises was just painful in and of itself. Arpeggio was his baby!

"Bravo!" Still, painful noises or not, he'd gotten it! He was totally getting it down! Talk about a fast learner, this was awesome. Now, the question was, could Kousyxe use other sound waves besides instruments? The two clones he'd struck had been reduced to flitting music notes, each with their own respective showers of water as they collapsed in on themselves.

Well, no time like the present; time for a sound test! Demyx stopped playing his sitar, and started singing instead, picking the melody back up in wordless notes. For such an easy-going, comparatively soft-spoken guy, he's got a shockingly powerful singing voice..... then again, given his abilities, was that really so surprising? If he could use this, then Kousyxe could back himself up and provide a power boost just by producing his own sound to manipulate.....

"Hey, thanks!"

The steady beat of the song changing to Demyx's vocals threw Kousyxe for a moment, the rhythms flowing through him shifting, and he stumbled - just for a second, though. He hadn't realised that it would do that to him, that was for sure - was it always going to be that way? Was he always going to be so - tuned in, now?

Still, he could wonder about that later. He picked up the new pattern quickly enough. After all, it was still a constant melody, a constant source - shouldn't be any different, should it? Worth a try... he grabbed at the song, shot it back out, almost easily by now.

"C'mon! Take this!"

And once again, another blast.
This part, he could do.

Interesting, interesting..... Looked like the kid was pretty sensitive to sound, now. Totally tuned in! That was pretty cool. But the question was, how could it be used? What was the shape of that little phenomenon?

Well, they'd soon find out, wouldn't they? The music notes burst apart as they were struck, and as suddenly as it began, it was over; nothing was left to attack except a fine settling mist. Demyx lets his singing fall to a close, grinning and applauding. "Nice job!"

He scratches the back of his neck, thoughtfully looking Kousyxe over and reaching for Arpeggio again. Much as he doesn't like fighting, he's always thought the best offense was a good defense, sometimes. This part is necessary, even if it's distasteful. "Okay, so we've got an idea of how your powers work, and your fighting style. Think you're ready to pull it together and try protecting yourself?"

Kousyxe rubbed his head for a moment as the singing died back and he had a chance to catch his breath - all of a sudden, the quiet seemed weird. Still - the compliment from Demyx was worth a wide grin, he figured. He was getting this. No problem!

Idly, once more, he flicked one of his knives into the air a couple of times, then nodded. "Alright, let's do this!" he said, throwing all the enthusiasm he could manifest into the words.

"That's the spirit! Rock on!" Demyx flashed a thumbs up at Kousyxe before taking to his sitar again. This tune isn't too different, but still--there's a sharp syncopated beat designed to be jarring, now, as bubbles flood the air and whirl around them. They coalesce into three more clones, no different than the first set, save for their intentions. Two back off immediately, circling wide to try and keep out of range, all the better to flank Kousyxe and dart in to exploit any openings he left.

The other one, though? That rushed Kousyxe as soon as it formed, swinging its sitar in a tight arc at his head to go for the biggest advantage it could get from the element of surprise. There was a lot more give and take this time around, more for Kousyxe to pay attention to and keep track of, more that he needed to care about and react to appropriately as he learned and adapted on the fly. The stakes weren't exactly dire, but they were still there; his constructs might have been water, but they still packed enough force that each blow would be about equivalent to a hard punch from a normal person.

Yes, even the music notes, small as they were. As quick and erratic as those were liable to be, he was probably going to need to learn the value of a good solid blocking technique, if not a strong counter-attack.

No chance to feel for the beat, this time, and that rough rhythm one that had him thrown at the start - Kousyxe fell back on sheer physical defense as the first clone rushed forward and swung. He yelped slightly, stumbled back, but he'd at least managed to get his blades up and raised to take the worst of the blow. His recovery from the hit was far from graceful.

He couldn't let the clones push him around, couldn't let the beat push him around. He had to strike back - and the first clone to strike got an awkward knife to the face.

The clone wavered around Kousyxe's hand as it and the knife plunged straight through its face, eyes opening comically wide in surprise; Kouxyxe would get a full-body spray this time, as it collapsed down into a music note. But even that didn't stop it from rushing forward, intent on skimming straight under the outstretched knife to ram into Kousyxe's chest; that one, obviously, was working on an agenda of pure aggression.

Meanwhile, another clone rushed at Kousyxe from behind while he was dealing with the first, sitar swinging to club him squarely in the back. It was ready to dance back as soon as it made its shot, whether it hit or not; the other two were playing it considerably safer, as it were, more intent on harassing their target while their fellow was a straightforward distraction. A bit of tactics mixing never hurt, after all--a lot of the people left were straight-up bruisers, but not all of them were. Xigbar, for example, or Axel.....

The splashing was expected, but Kousyxe still couldn't help but give a splutter as it hit him in the face. Still, he couldn't really call it unwelcome in this heat... the note smacking into him, though, he could do without. And something else hitting him from the rear, too? Not cool! He let out an 'oof!', stumbled for a second, but recovered quickly enough to spin around - his blades whirled in a circle, singing, leaving a shockwave behind them.
Okay, where did that thing go...?

The shockwave kicked up a vicious cloud of sand, but it was no use; the clone had skipped blithely back out of range, waiting for another chance to strike--a chance it might soon get, with vision obscured like this.

Of course, that chance was far more open to its other two companions. The little musical note darted in to smack him again as Kousyxe presented his back to it when he whirled, sure to remain close and throw itself at him as long as it could manage. In the meantime, though, the other clone charged in to smack Kousyxe from the side, aiming to peel away as soon as it hit or missed, much like its fellow.

Damn. That'd made things harder on him - same as ever. When did he ever manage to do something right without it having a catch?
Those things were going to keep bashing him backwards and forwards unless he tried something else, weren't they? He was going to try and take out that damn note, first, though. While he could hardly call himself irritated, it wasn't making it any easier for him to think about what he was doing! Okay, back to the sonic attacks. Self-generated for the moment, with that beat being what it was: he started shooting them off wildly.

That was the trouble with power without control, wasn't it? It had unintended consequences! Collateral damage and side effects, if you would, like kicking up a choking, blinding cloud of sand around Kousyxe. Even Demyx couldn't help coughing, backing farther away to keep clear of the miniature sandstorm Kousyxe was engulfing himself in. Geez, the kid was really jumping the gun, wasn't he? Talk about over-excited.....

His shockwaves nailed the little music note--eventually, and through pure luck more than anything else--, though it might have been hard to tell, given the reduced visibility. The clones, however, were playing a safer game, using the cover of the flying sand to their advantage. They were swarming now, dancing around Kousyxe to swipe at him from all angles and make things as confusing as possible. The wet sand sticking to them didn't help in the slightest, either--wasn't built-in camouflage really something?

Aw, crap. There was no point in him shooting off any more attacks until the sandstorm died down - or at the very least, he'd need to focus. To not hit the sand when he was firing. For the moment, he was just striking at whatever came within knife range, hoping for the best: when he could actually see worth a damn, he started aiming off more targeted blasts, aiming for head-level to try and stop them splashing up any more sand.

First day in the coat and it was already covered in mud. Ah, hell.