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X I G B A R [userpic]
by X I G B A R (shot_first)
at September 24th, 2006 (12:02 am)
current mood: Hungry
current song: Apollo 440 - Stop the Rock

Who: Xigbar and Demyx.
When: Wednesday.
Where: Kardela, capital city of central Kinta.
What: Demyx hikes to Kardela, and catches up with Xigman.
Warning: GHAY content, and a few bad words.

Edit: This had to be cut in two parts, because apparently LJ is a bit of a bitch at how long entries are allowed to be. Bitchy.


"I'm so out of luck..." Demyx moaned slightly looking around, distressed, shielding his eyes against the glaring evening sun. He had lost his way again...he just was not used to these crowded streets. How was he supposed to find his way when people were bumping in to him every time he stopped and _tried_ to think. He was allready confused and distracted by the unfamilliar surrounding....Blinking neon lights, the roar of vehicles, people of all kinds and looks....
The youth scratched his neck absently and started to walk down the street....Now where exactly was he going again?....ah yeah...right. Earlier he had over heard something about a big party some where in this area....he had figured that if he attended he would be able to gather information about this place, Kinta, newcomer as he was.....but most importantly, he needed money- his belly already ached from hunger and...he really had no clue of where he would sleep this evening. Out on the roadside he had allways been able to find a nice patch of soft grass to rest on...but he dreaded to sleep alone in this place...*

CATCH-22 was an okay club. The music was good, the prices fair. The drinks undiluted. The stairs down the building in which it was located were clean and hard to slip on, even if you were so pissed that you saw three sets of steps, and the locale large enough to house at least three hundred individuals. Like this, before opening hours, it was well lit and a slow place to hang around, people getting ready for the night ahead by scrubbing glass, preparing the stage, putting tables in order, and other necessary little changes.
Xigbar was sitting in a heap of electrical equipment with a screwdriver between his teeth, frowning irritably as he tried to fix the maltuned bass run of one of the loudspeakers, balancing it on a precarious tilt to be able to get inside the tiny hole in the back where he could make the proper adjustments. The way it sounded now was bad enough to make the floor rumble when it was turned on and allowed connection to any of the electrical appliances. He had not signed onto the Organisation because of his technical knowledge, and so he was muttering swearwords under his breath as he worked, fingers fumbling with wires small, large and eternally tangled in his lap.
Frankie was still sick, and wouldn't be able to come in. Shit shit.
But he had his 'phones tucked into the recesses of his pointy ear, letting the soothing beats take over the world, allowing him to focus on practicing for the upcoming night rather than just let anger wash it away. He needed those lyrics to stick, and they needed to do so now. So he swore in time with the sashaying, swaying melodies of sex and punk and ignored the perspiration - appearing despite the fan humming away behind him - dripping down his back, staining the white tank he wore for the occasion of barely covering his chest. It even read "Born To Be Wild". He wouldn't be caught dead in something like that other than amongst these people.

*Wearing a overly large, white t-shirt, a backpack, and worn jeans with scrubbed open knees Demyx looked like just another one of the kids on the streets. He'd been given these clothes by the woman that had rescued him and nursed him back to health. Apparently the clothes had belonged to her younger brother who was at least a couple of sizes larger than Demyx. The youth took shelter in a stairway. Slowly he slipped along the wall to sit down and look up at the passing crowd with a look as if he was a abandoned puppy. Someone actually threw him a small coin that unfortunately hit him between the eyes before falling the ground and spinning around. Demyx picked it up and expatiated it before putting it in his pocket. He should have summoned his Sitar and played for money- music as his thing….but....he hung his head. He just did not have the spirit to do so...he was quite sure he still could perform his old tricks but...did he want to?
He hung his head a little. After he had awoken...he had experienced a new kind of peace...and as much as he longed after the others...as much as he felt loyal to the organisation....he just wondered if perhaps it was not the best to let it go…He could be happy like this couldn’t he? If only…He wondered what had become of the others…Were they still struggling?….fighting…betraying…..dieing…..With a sigh he rested his head on his knees and spied a crowd gathering near a entrance down to what was obviously a club….CATCH-22….such a odd name.*

As the hours had moved and things snapped into place as they should, people had started waddling in after supper hours to lounge into their favourite seats, sipping their favourite drinks. It was only Wednesday, but it was the ultimate mid-week day to let loose. Folks allowed themselves a spot of luxury, a bit of relaxation and a show, and most didn't stay very late anyway. Xigbar didn't know if he was lucky, or just an all-out desperate guy who'd been bestowed another boon from a particularely miracle-generous god, but somehow they had been able to dig up a replacement guitarist to take Frankie's place for the night. He wasn't top-notch material, but he did good enough with the stuff they gave him. And a few beers and four songs down the line and Xigbar wasn't even hearing the wailing strings.
He was drunk on the smiles and glittering lights playing in people's eyes, the throb of their hearts, the gushing of blood flooding the veins of their faces when he rubbed against the stand of the microphone, letting the suggestive words roll off of his tongue like thick come or honey. He could live, heartless, for this, no problem. His hair had come loose with the tossing of his head, the jerking of his now provocatively clad body, and it stuck to his face in the sweat the lights and the excersize his mad hip-rolling produced. It was euphoria; the best way to earn your living ever. The pace would slow and he went down on his knees, crawled to the edge of the stage, letting the hot fingertips of a reaching audience feel the breath expelled from between his grinning lips, just out of reach, whispering his cruel affection toward them, meaning every word.
This was the world.

*Demyx sort of followed the crowd through the gaping maw of CATCH-22. His blue eyes sparkling with fascination and eagerness as he looked around at all the gathered people and felt their high. The drunk happiness, warmth and excitement of the many bodies pressed together on such a small surface made him feel giddy on his own and he made his way through the crowd, heading for a table that still had a empty seat...The sudden wailing of the guitar vibrated through the air and tickled his back and spine pleasantly ....And then a voice rose towards the ceiling and over the crowd, carried on the music. Demyx stopped dead in track and struggled to turn around and face the stage. Unfortunately for him a really rather big and tall guy was in his way so the youth, slightly wide eyed and flustered with excitement, slipped around him clumsily and moved through the crowd until the stage was within clear view.
Breathless he watched with eyes gone very big, that skinny, sinewy man making love to the microphone with body and voice, infront of the awed masses. He watched that long, black and iron grey hair cling to a sweaty shirt and muscular, pale arms. Saw those familiar hands, strong hands, travel over the microphone with such sensuality and he remembered them travelling over clean and cared for metal of a pair of very much unique guns.
Demyx lips were parted from the shock and then a wide smile of recognition and excitement formed on his lips.
”XIGBAR!” he called out without even realising he had given the thought voice and happily started to push his way towards the stage, skillfully avoiding the grabbing hands of those that wanted to hold him back and out of the way, not even hearing the curses aimed at his back.*

Having his name called out in the middle of the jeering crowd wasn't an irregularity, he prided himself something monstrously on knowing that he did, in fact, have fans. But this voice was special, it rang little bells of memory from behind the wonderful haze of drawling, focused singing when he told the tale of an old mans fate under the lips of a pale, ravenous young girl. It was so grating on his concentration that he allowed the scene a more scrutinizing look - it could be trouble, after all. Someone wanting to start a mosh amongst the emos, or something like it. But he couldn't see Raoul or Simon - two of the bouncers he knew by name - anywhere, so it mustn't be something too important. There was a definitive shift and stir down in the audience however, and he decided to slither his way away from the edge slightly when the music picked up and allowed him to scream, grating on his vocal-chords, on top of his lungs of desperation and attraction.
The flow of people parted not unlike the water Demyx controlled so well, allowing him passage through dancing, moving bodies closer toward the stage until a long-armed leap would allow him to grip Xigbar's black leather boot, a million buckles and piercings heavy, jingling as he moved.

*Demyx stared up at Xigbar with mouth open in a smile, blue eyes wide. He could almost not believe it! It really was Xigbar, squirming and writhling upon the stage in a way that Demyx could never in his wildest fantasies have pictured the freeshooter. If it was no for the fact that he was so excited about the mans sudden appearing infront of him he would have probably been redfaced and embarrassed by the sight. He grabbed a hold of the stage edge and stood there, staring happily up at the man before taking a impressive leap up and grabbing for him with a gleeful exclamation.
"XIGBAR! OH MAN! Icantbelieveit'syou!" like a excited child, struggling to get up and reach the man.*

Too surprised to react at the sudden appearance of someone he knew /quite/ well, Xigbar was dumbfounded as the young man leapt up against him, hands slipping around him and crushing his sweat-soaked body before he could even protest. Madmanfriendfoerapistvictimohshitwaitasecondit'sdemyx! ohgodwhatthehell!?
He found the same mad exhilaration that he'd felt when he had been given word that Axel was alive and well return, and now it was all he could do not to cling back against that lithe, youthful frame, a gleeful cry erupting in his throat; matched by that of his audience, who realised faster than he what they were seeing. An emotional, joyous reunion. The musicians played on, the singing part thankfully already at an end, letting the rhythm milden somewhat to let the two hear what they were saying over the din. Not that they were saying anything. Xigbar, old and routined and presumably macho only moments previous having crawled over the stage, licking a microphone, could only leap up and down on the spot for happiness at seeing Demyx alive and equally happy to see him. His adrenaline was already peaking; this did nothing to
change that.

* "OhgawdimsohappytoseeyouXigbaaar!" Demyx got out, almost mewling, swaying in the embrace and all but panting from the excitement, cheeks flustered with joy as he clung to Xigbar without a thread of shame or shyness. The crowd didn't exist to him now that he was face to face again with his dear friend... " It...It's so nice too see you. Everything's been so weird and and----" he bit together and smiled at Xigbar. "You look awesome man!" He stared with obvious adoration and joy at his senior. Xigbar was in many ways a hero to him, and he had always absolutely delighted in those times that the freeshoter and he had spent time together. Xigbar was just....awesome- witty, quick, experienced and skilled at just about everything!...And hanging out with him always made Demyx feel more confident himself afterwards! "Xigbar.....I didn't know you could sing!?!" another gleeful exclamation and hug.*

The old freeshooter managed to worm out from the choking embrace, a bit more aware of their surroundings, and raised the all but forgotten microphone to his mouth, lips bumping against the wire mesh drunkenly, making unprofessional little pounds ring out across the filled room.
'Thank you very much, friends!' he laughed, nigh breathless, raising the hand temporarily in the air to hail the massive cheer responding. 'Thanks for coming on down here and making me feel good, guys. I shall return!' His hand firmly lodged around Demyx's waist he hurriedly dragged the kid off stage. Yes, in the darkness of the wing he would be able to think, to find the words he wanted to say to his newfound companion. In the darkness of the wing he would be out of the stinging glare of the multicoloured lights burning his thoughts away. And the second they were there he pulled the kid close to himself again, not caring about the clothes clinging to his reeking body, not caring whether or not he had said even a single thing to tell Demyx how absolutely thrilled he was to see him again.
'Damn, kid,' he gasped, chin resting firmly in the nook of the youth's neck. 'Just.. damn. I'm so glad you're okay.'

*Demyx had been startled back to reality upon hearing Xigbars voice ring out from the loudspeakers and he stared, redfaced and a little stunned as he was lead to the safeness of the darkness behind the stage. He gasped out a little as Xigbar hugged him and having the freeshooter pressing his face against the curve if his neck,. "Xi-xigbar..." He murmured raising both arms up to embrace the man awkwardly now. "I'm too..I- I mean It's great to see you again I really...Um, sorry for having worried you...I just haven't had the chance to contact you guys after that happened and..." He bit down on his lip again, hugging Xigbar more firmly. Ah, there was so much he needed to say but as usual his brain refused to cooperate with his mouth. "...You look healthy man...wow...just wow... those clothes and that was some preformance!" he blushed happily.*

'Heh, yeah,' Xigbar grinned, refraining from giving Demyx's ear an affectionate nip before pulling away from the tight hug, 'and it's not over yet by a long shot. I'm glad you enjoy it though; praise from you should be good. You always were the musician among us, really.' It was true; the first time he'd taken hold of the microphone, palms sweating, he'd half expected the younger Nobody to come running up, shouting at him for stealing his gig. But now he just smiled and picked up a water-bottle from the floor, indulging in the liquid and cooling off his straining throat.
Demyx, huh? Well, that was a surprising turn of events. Just days after hooking up with Axel, and then number Nine crops up as well? It didn't feel like much of a coincidence. At this rate he'd be having coffee with Luxord next week. They'd skipped a few numbers though, he thought a little wistfully, but some was better than none. Strange that the kids were still okay though. But maybe they were made of sinewy, stronger stuff - like himself. Skinny, slinky little survivors. People like Saïx and Xaldin were probably more prone to fighting until the death than them.
'You don't look as fresh,' he pointed out eventually, lowering the plastic bottle from his lips, letting some of the water spill across his chin and drip down his already wet shirt. 'Lemme guess. Not been eating much, huh?' As much as those skinned-knee jeans suited the kid, it wasn't the height of fashion.

*Demyx nodded. "Only Sandwiches!" he blurted out staring at Xigbar still as if he was some sort of holy revelation. "I...err, there was this girl who found me and took me in when I was out cold…and she sent with me sandwiches and some munny..." he had happily eaten half of the food supplies send with him the very first day….and then realised how un-clever that had been when later he would be spending the two last days of his journey in the company of a belly that kept voicing its complains rather loudly. "... She had found me in a wrecked old house...hehe..." he scratched his head. "She joked about me having crashed from the sky after the storm…she gave me these clothes and...I still have the coat!" he beamed. "It's a little patched up and...I figured it would not be very discrete wearing it around here...um…But...how did you get here? the others with you?" Hopefull and eager, big blue eyes looked up at Xigbar. Of course he did not know about their defeat. He had been the first one to fall*

'Ah, not really. Someone found me, alright, but that's not really.. vital. Sandwiches? Seriously kid, for how long have you been living on that? A growing lad needs about ten a day in order to survive, you know.' He smiled at the boy. So proud of having kept the coat in good condition. Jesus. Had he even remembered to pick his own up after he'd gotten his first new set of fresh clothes? Probably not. Hopefully some homeless person had salvaged it for themselves. It was a warm thing.
'Listen, kid, there's a lot of things I need to tell you about, and, well, it'll take a while. And I've got a job to do here, yeah? So what you're gonna do is that you're going to go down to the bar and tell Betty that you need a loan out of her pocket for a hamburger around the block. And when you're done stuffing your face you stick around until I get off the stage. Okay?' He took another deep swig of water, still parched.

*Demyx blinked. Ah yes, there was much they needed to talk about but this really was not the time or place to do so....and Xigbar was in the middle of a gig! He was almost jealous and determined to make Xigbar tell the whole tale! "Oh - Okay...I'll do that!" he threw himself around the older mans neck again and then stepped away, a radiant smile on his face and a puppy like bounce in his movement that told of his enthusiasm. "I'll be right back! And good to see that you're drinking water! Shouldn't ever drink anything else on stage!" He called out over his shoulder before he ran out on the stage and jumped down the side, but not before giving the crowd a playful wave and called out a greeting over their heads.
The skinny, energetic youth made his way down to the bar to do his best to charm this Betty into loaning him money as Xigbar had instructed him to do.*

Betty wasn't blind; she had seen the way that Xigbar had dragged the kid jumping him off stage in a more than friendly manner, and was quick to give up a bit of munny when he asked for it. The sparkle of happiness in his blue eyes more than showed that there was no way he was lying when telling her Xigbar had asked him to do so. And besides, if that wasn't so, she'd just beat him senseless with a broken bottle and take it out of his wallet anyway.
The gunner let his one gold eye follow Demyx's way through the club, avoiding people. Getting the cash. Leaving. Something wrenched in his gut, but he signed to the stand-in guitarrist to get things back on. He would scream his lungs raw tonight, but he would do so with one person on his mind, which might put things off a little bit. Three minutes into swaying and groaning however, and he was lost again. The image of that face not quite gone, he almost turned himself on, and it embarrassed him a little.

*Demyx clung to the corner watching his hamburger being made ready and served with hungry eyes, salivating. He paid and snatched it happily, burying his teeth into it joyously before turning on his heel and hurrying back, his sharp ears picking up Xigbar song and the music. The music and the food became a double pleasure for him and he waited outside the short moment that it took for the hungry youth to finnish his meal, before hurrying inside, eager to see Xigbar again, eager to be united with his friend and senior. He was again swept of his feet by the sight of the man, though differently this time. His eyes innocently wide and lips parted just slightly as he swayed with the movement of the crowd, his cheeks slowly starting to burn with heat. Xigbar was so...
...so unbelievably...cool. Though Demyx wasn't sure if cool really was the word he was seeking now upon looking at the man on the stage. No...Cool was what Xibar usually was, cool, playful and laid back....So different was this the raw, almost painful passion radiating from him as he gripped the microphone and danced that slow, sensual dance, mixed with aggressive and powerful movements...Demyx found it almost hard to breathe where he stood.*

Song after song rolled off of Xigbar's heating lips. He slurred and he groaned and he cried and he screamed and there was no way that he could possibly stop. He wrapped his leg around the bassists', hanging over his shoulder and promising sweet relief to him, but his eye was out amongst the audience, loving only them. He couldn't spot the blonde, undercut mullet he was hoping to find, but it was okay. His trousers were tight and his body hot and wet and his hair a clingy mass that burnt the skin it touched. He would have kept on breathing and panting down the head of the microphone like he would have down between the legs his lover, but the absence of strings and drums made him look up and realise the time, and that it was over now. Hands and mouths were reaching for him, cheering, jeering, wanting him amongst them. A hand on his shoulder pulled him back from the perilous edge at which he was teetering, about to throw himself down into for the hell of it, maybe have his clothes torn off and his aching body ravaged by a hundred boozed up, cracked down people. Would be another rush to live off of.
But he didn't. He backed away, and could only smile wryly, raise a hand in farewell as he staggered off-stage into the relief from shadow and shoving the half empty bottle of water down his own throat. Chugging and suckling at its neck as if it was the grandest elixir of life. Raoul was there now, to keep people outside at bay when they attempted to stumble away into the safety of the back rooms, trippy from the adrenaline and exhaustion. Was Demyx back by now? he wondered airily. Had he seen him loose control like this? He hoped that was so.

*Wide eyed Demyx stood as if rooted to the floor and had stared at Xigbar making his grand leave, disappearing in behind the stage. The youth felt a confused, warm, breathless and somewhat anxious feeling. When the crowd had started to split he made his way over to the stage and climbed on to it, walking over to where the bouncer was standing, his pulse racing. "Um," he peered past him and then looked up at him looking very humble "I'm Xigbars friend...err....I _really_ need to see him," Oh great, he really hoped the big man would recognize him from before or else there was no way he'd be let in. He thought about the look on Xigbars face as he had balanced so very close to the edge of the stage, a look of drunkenness on his wolfish face that Demyx very well understood....The memory of Xigbar breathing down the neck of the bassist and whisper sensually to him was enough to make Demyx swallow once and twice and for just a moment he shivered, so easy it was for him to imagine what it must feel like to have that sinewy, strong body lean on to you and pant out intimacies and promises that would tickle your skin and make you want to…His face grew instantly hot...he needed a private talk with the old man now!*

Raoul gave the grovelling lad the Eye, scrutinizing him. Luckily for Demyx, he was the smart one. Had it been Simon, he might not have been so lucky. This time it only warranted him a curt nod, and those incredibly muscular arms - speaking of a lifetime of weight-lifting - unfolded. He jerked a dirty thumb over his shoulder.
'Yeah, I remember you. Xigbar's little groupie. Hitch inside; there's just the one door, you can't miss it.' The bouncer moved aside slightly, allowing him to squeeze past. 'I'm picking you up in ten.'
Inside the back room, Xigbar was just throwing himself into a rundown piece of rugged brown sofa, sighing deeply from glee and weariness slowly soaking into his limbs as adrenalin gave way to lactic acid. His face was tingling, red in odd patches, and he leaned his head back, arms and legs astride.
'Good night,' he said definitely to the room at large, and his colleagues grinned and nodded their agreement. 'Real good night. Great work, guys. Remind me to sign up for Wednesdays more often? Them damn emos sure have a flair for the dramatic stuff.'
'Yeah, well, so do you,' Frankie's stand-in sniggered, and they all shared a laugh at it.

*Demyx murmured a thank you and slinked past the big man and in to the room. He instantly spotting the freeshooter turned rockstar laying stretched out on the sofa like some kind of sleek feline creature. Demyx stood there for a moment, catching his breath and trying not to stare too hard at his seniors new attire. But it was proving extremely difficult..
"Y-yo!- I'm back" he got out, grinning shakily, very much flustered. "Some show err...." he looked around, taking in the run down interiors of the room. "Cozy place this is!" He patted the door frame a little and then invited himself to step inside and look around some more, appearing absentminded and very flustered.*

Xigbar's head rolled around and up when he first heard Demyx speak, and a tired grin spread on his face. 'Hey, Dem,' he replied, making inviting motions with the part of his hands that currently still obeyed him. 'C'mere. Did you eat something like I told ya?'
The rest of his colleagues gave eachother pointed looks and started hurrying up what they were doing in order to leave the two in peace to talk. Like Betty, they weren't blind either, and figured they'd just been given a show of Xigbar's past, and they would be pumping him for it now that he couldn't slither out of the fact. But later, maybe. He dragged one throbbing leg back to the other to give Demyx some space on the couch if he wanted to.

*Demyx nodded and walked over to the couch and sat down, biting his lip a little and then grinning down at Xigbar. "...Hey.... you look absolutely exhausted! Don't over do yourself or I will have to worry!" he spoke happily, squirming and making himself comfortable where he sat. He patted Xigbars leg a little, innocently happy and Xigbars smile did nothing but to make him smile more. It had allways done that, if he had been a dog he would have wagged his tail at that smile. "And thanks for letting me borrow the money..." he blushed a little more. He had wolfed down the hamburger so quickly he had barely tasted it but he knew his belly was singing from joy after eating it. "Thanks man...You're the best!" there was such earnestness in his voice.*

'No no, that was me borrowing money from Betty, not you borrowing from me. Consider it a donation from the Hungry Nobodies fund,' he laughed, and watched the innocent joy dance in Demyx's eyes. Damn it, the kid was sweeter than ever. He should get lost on the ether a bit more often if this was the sort of welcome back you received post-return. His band-mates were packing up the last of their equipment, and Frankie's stand in snapped the locks to his guitar-case shut.
'See you around, Xigman.'
'What, you guys leaving already?' he asked, bewildered and a little stunned from the sudden touch to his thigh, which was distracting.
'Yeah, we're going out drinking. We'd ask if you wanted to tag along, but you just spent your money on the kid.' He smirked and snapped his hand up in a dismissive wave in return at Xigbar's pout. 'Later.'
'Dang retards,' Xigbar muttered, but without any actual anger. 'Serves me right for cutting out on them a few nights back though.'

*Demyx happily waved the others off, almost but not quite bouncing from flustered energy.
"The hungry nobodies fund- that sounds really nice! Didn't know there was one!" He snickered a little. He watched Xigbars face and leaning over him. He seemed to slowly sober up a little. "Really glad to have found you...everything has been so confusing lately." He tilted his head. "I...really did not expect to wake up again after that." He shivered a little remembering the feeling of....fading out of existence. It was a memory he would rather forget. "...So....what are you doing here? I mean- except driving the crowd mad " he smiled happily, again pating Xigbar, this time his belly. "And feeding hungry nobodies?" *

'Not much, other than that, no.' He looked down at his stomach, confused at how Demyx seemed unable to stop touching him. Had he always been that clingy? 'Working and sleeping and eating. And occasionally drinking. You know. That's what normal people do, though I suppose we don't quite qualify as normal yet.' Shit.. He was going to have to tell the kid everything, he seemed to have.. returned, or whatever they'd done, just very recently. He'd been the first to.. die, so he couldn't possibly know what had happened after; unless he'd met Axel. Which he might've, if they were both zooming around Kinta.
'Listen, uh.. Demyx.' He scratched his neck absently, and then started fishing about his pockets for a hairband or something to avoid having to look into those exhilarated, happy blue eyes and say what he had to say. 'Have you been in contact with the Organisation after you woke back up?'

*Demyx straightened up and shook his head. "I havent...Until a week ago I was still in bed. I don't even know how long I was out...." he struggled to remember those fragmental pieces of regaining consciousness. "...Nope...you're the first one I had seen...." he murmured frowning slightly. He looked at Xigbar. "....What happened?" I mean...as much as he would have wanted to believe that Xigbar was just here to have a good time.....he knew better than that. Something was wrong. Very wrong.*

'Uh.. a lot happened after you. Listen. It's like this. I mean. Aw, shit..' He was going about this all the wrong way, but how the hell to explain? It was just too big for him. He found a small green scrunchie curled up in the depths of a pocket in those snug leather pants, and started putting his hair up, tousled and sweaty though it was, into his standard ponytail, averse to hiding behind the greying strands. 'The Organisation is gone, kid. Kaput, no more. And..' Jesus, this was /hard/. 'And.. everyone's dead. Xemnas, Saïx.. everyone. Except you and me and Axel. I saw the redhead last Sunday, but.. it's been three years since you died. 'Cause.. That's what happened. Sora came and beat the bajeezus out of all of us and.. we died.'
Of course, he didn't know if everyone truly were gone; he hadn't exactly been the last man standing. But if Sora was back safely in Rakichi, as he knew he were, then chances were pretty damned great that everyone had croaked.

*Demyx stared at him, his face instantly neutral. "I see..." his young voice was quiet now. Somewhere, under the cheerful surface he had suspected as much...Marluxia and the others- far more strong and dangerous than Demyx himself- had fallen at the hands of Sora and his comrades....They had underestimated the young keyblade master and all of that mess had come to this... "I...suppose I...some how I knew it..." He hung his head. "I was thinking...right before I got here...about what I ought to do....I felt it was over you know....I....I... really d-didn't want back to living like that....Fighting and fighting, " he sounded so tired and saddened by the thought" But...I missed you guys....I wanted to at least try to find a way back...to contact you...." he swallowed and straightened up
"But....If we are here and alive....then perhaps the others did too...?" he looked at Xigbar. "....Perhaps...they're just waiting to wake up like I did for 3 years..." he sighed, closing his brilliant blue eyes and his shoulders slumping. "Xigbar...what are we supposed to do now?" he sounded really small and lost then turning to his older comrade for guidance.*

Xigbar sat up and leaned in a little closer to the youth, wrapping a wiry arm around his shoulders and patting it for comfort. 'It's.. okay, kid. I've been missing you all for the past two years, but even though I can see you right here now.. for some reason I don't think they all pulled through. I mean. You, me, Axel.. we're survivors like. Skinny little cowards.' The corners of his mouth jerked up like rigor mortis, nervously, before faltering. There was nothing funny about the way that Demyx was curling up into a little ball of sadness where radiant joy had so recently played about. He didn't understand how they could even be discussing what they were; if you died you died, you didn't just stay dead a few years to wake back up as if nothing happened a bit later. It was frustrating and frightening at the same time.
'It's pretty whacked-out, all this. But there's nothing we can do, really. Of course, we could go back to what we've been doing, collecting hearts and hoping they end up in some collective space - maybe Kingdom Hearts is still around and all.. but it doesn't feel like it's what we're supposed to be doing. You've seen how I pass the time. It's not half bad, at that, but you sure are right in that it's not.. fulfilling, not knowing what happened, and what'll become of us now.'
His fingertip played with the loose strands of Demyx's mullet. 'Because you haven't gotten your heart back either, have you.'

*Demyx looked at him, eyes a little shiny and he shook his head. "I...don't suppose I have...I feel just the same..." he murmured, leaning his head against Xigbars touch just a little. " he frowned, remembering the words exchanged between him and Sora. " But ....I can still feel I am happy or lonely or sad..." he looked at Xigbar. "Perhaps...." he looked embarrassed and spoke in a very quiet voice, the secret thoughts he had had back then at the very end...thoughts that had felt like a traitor for "Perhaps....it isn't all that diferent from being...whole...I mean...even if it isn't....it still feels like it....I can allways try to pretend and just...go on...try to find something to do..." he swallowed. He didn't know how long that would work but...he had managed to stay himself for this long, he hadn't lost his sense of self and hadn't changed at all as far as he knew, since day one of his existence as Demyx "Xigbar....Can I stay around with you for a while?" he smiled a little. "I'll help out with the equipment and stuff and I promise won't be a bother for you and your gang...." *

The hold on Demyx's shoulder turned a little sharper, a little stronger. 'Sure you can stay, kid, but you have to get something straight. There is no "gang"; those guys are co-workers, that's all.' Almost as if he didn't want them to be friends. He scratched the skin under the white and red chequered patch he wore over his ruined right eye. The young man depressing the hell out of him by glassing over like that. And /turning/ to him, as if he had all the answers. He didn't, but it was hard telling him that. Because, well, he /used/ to be the big man, and he /used/ to have all the answers, back when it was all running around grabbing hearts. In a way, knowing your limitations were easier than going about trying to form a semblance of a life and knowing it just wasn't complete. And the older you got, the easier it was to forget things like nuanced emotions. Maybe that was why he went for the stage, now.
'I guess you don't have a place to stay, so you'd better come home with me. Free food and lodgings, you know. Stuff. If you want. And we can find you a job too, later, and get you on your own two feet.'
Maybe Axel would like his old companion to help out with that restaurant project he'd told Xigbar about. There would be something for Demyx, at least, of that he was certain. He would was so enthusiastic doing the things he set his mind to that he would be fine scrubbing gum from staircases if that were so.

*Demyx looked at him. "Thank you...." he slipped his arms around him and hugged him lightly, and then more firmly. "...Xigbar?" he murmured. "wanna...you know...do something?" he murmured against the pointy ear. "....I mean....I suppose this would be a good time to get....drunk....or something..." he felt bad, really bad seeing the torment on the older mans face. Thinking how that his being here was what had disrupted that from the really really good time that the man had had before his showing up. He....didn't want it to be like that. He didn't want the reunion with Xigbar to be sad and awkward like this. "....I don't think we ever got around doing that together...." he poked Xigbars back a little.*

Relaxing slightly against the body pressing against his, the freeshooter nodded carefully, giving himself and the boy the luxury of nuzzling into the blonde hair, for dual comforting. The dirty, ever-present little sneak at the back of his head said that HELL YES he wanted to, you know, do something, and that thing was Demyx, and how about right now? But he squashed it with a vengeance.
'You need a drink, huh? I understand. I wouldn't mind just the one nerve-straightner-outner either.' His smile was a little wobbly, but his lips pressed against Demyx's ear before he pulled away. 'Let's pretend we snuck away real careful-like, and the hoppers can yell at me tomorrow for running away. We need to get you settled at my place anyway. You got any luggage or something?'

*Demyx could have almost shivered when the Freeshooters lips pressed against his ear and he found himself reluctantly leting go of the man as they parted their embrace. He nodded at the backpack. It was the only thing he had on himself other than his clothes. "I travel fast and light," he murmured giving Xigbar a steadier smile and then he got up offering his hand to the older man to help him up.*

As if Xigbar needed any help. He rolled up on the balls of his feet, worked abdomen flexing as he refused to use his hands, or the one offered, to get up from the seat. 'Thanks anway, kid,' he smirked, and picked up the backpack, shouldering one of its straps lightly. He couldn't be carrying much with a virtually non-existant load like that. Like he said, light. Must just be the coat and a few sandwich wrapping papers. He walked over to a pile of discarded clothes on the floor and picked them up; just because they were sweaty didn't mean he was going to litter all across CATCH.
'Alright then,' he said, straightening. 'Hold on to my sleeve and we'll be lounging at my crib in five seconds.'

*Demyx stepped up to Xigbar and grabbed his sleeve. It would be nice to get away and...he was truly looking towards to see where Xigbar lived now. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen how the man lived before but....this was diferent. Xigbar was diferent...and him too...He was really glad that he would get to stay with the man for a while....Until things calmed down. He squeezed the sleve just a little at the moment not at all caring about how perfectly childish it might have looked if someone would have watched him clinging to Xigbar like a lost child. At the moment they were pretty lost the two of them weren't they...so it was OK he supposed....and it felt good to have someone to hold on to.*

Conjuring up the Dark Corridors were as easy now as it had always been. Black, swirling shadows coursed up from the floor and wrapped around their legs, their torsos, their heads, engulfing them in welcoming, nurturing darkness and shifting them through space to where Xigbar's mind guided, willed, and demanded.
All the lights were off in his apartment, but that didn't matter much. The enormous panoramic window of the livingroom covered almost all of the wall, allowing the night-lights of Kardela; every single lamp, street-light, neon sign and flicker of a match lighting up a cigarette reflecting and enhancing and brightening until it was almost like the moon was outshone by a world of light. Long, cold shadows hung on the opposite wall from the sparse furnishing; sparse but fine and modern. And very, very comfortable. A group of sofas and armchairs, a wide-screened television with a remote control so large there had to be a manual chucked away somewhere larger than a three-piece dictionary. Plants, exotic and leafy, hung and stood a bit of everywhere, giving the room some life and character, and a long, rectangular framed photo of what looked like nothing but a black, black doorway hung on the opposite wall; a little threatning.
The room was linked with an open-spaced kitchen, a small little thing consisting of only the bare essentials but still managing to look modern and expensive, with a bar island on which there was a mysterious sense of un-clutter that was very much not like Xigbar. Three doors led out, and were presumably bathroom, bedroom, and a thicker door for exit.
Shadows shifted with a tear and sparkle, and then the owner of the apartment and his younger protegé manifested right by the sofa, facing that impressively large window.

*Demyx looked around with an awed look on his young face, his lips slightly parted. His blue gaze stared out the window into the dark eternity and drowned in the bright flickering lights of the lively nightly city below. "Woahh...." a breathless sound, hoarse. "This is...awesome...." he turned to look at Xigbar, wide eyed and then a happy smile brightened up the previously tired face. " Xigbar man! That is it! I'm moving in with you!" he almost squealed with delight "Oh damn....I mean, I knew you had style and----just wow!"
He shook his head and calmed down a little, looking around with that look on his face like a street kid having been invited into the kings palace. And in some ways it was almost the same, because Demyx could not have been more impressed if it had been the palace of a king.*