Fanfiction ► Vibrant Pallidity

[TempestuousWind]

Okay, now this is one of my first fan fictions, so I'm fine with hearing harsh comments. I started writing this awhile ago, then dropped it, because I was too busy and thought it was a waste of time. When they had the big fan fiction craze, though, I thought about posting it. I won't tell you who it's about right off the bat, but you'll be able to tell later. I want those who share the same view of this character as me to see how I describe their life, how it might've been when no one was exactly around to see this person. I wanted to delve into their deep emotions.
There are three basic ways to write a KH fan fiction: past, present, and future; past happens before anything really started occuring (mainly used when you introduce a new character), present is during the storyline, or the games, as you may say; future would be after all the crap Sora went through is over (that would mean no Organization though). This story takes place in the 'present'.
Also, how I describe most of the characters in this story ARE BASED ON MY OWN THOUGHTS, VIEWS, AND HOW I IMAGINE THEM TO ACT IN A NORMAL ENVIORNMENT. I say this to the people who are die-hard fans of their character and are easily offended (fangirls and boys, you know who you are).
One last thing: Most people write in chapters; this is just one long story, but I have to seperate it some way. I call them 'Intervals', but they are made in the same sense as chapters.

Btw, you can read the whole story straight through (when I get it on there, be paitent!) if you really enjoy it, on Fanfiction. net, my username is TempestuousInquiry.

Thank you for sitting through all of this. Now, the story:

INTERVAL 1:
She wakes to the artifical sun shining through her translucent, pallid curtains. Slowly, each set of eyelashes flutter upon opening eyelids to reveal the immaculate, sapphire-tinted doorways behind them. Eys so full of innocence, wonder, and deeep emotion, you find it hard to look away. We begin with this.
Nudging her feet under, she pulls back the neutral bedspread into a corner on the mattress and stretches her toes to the floor. The sudden change in temperature causes her to recoil at first, then she steps onto the cold, tiled ground. She walks to the window and throws the hangings open, staring at the same sight she's woken up to for years.
A synthetic sun, breaking over no sky. There was no sky. Just emptiness, with the illusion of light in this bleak, darkened place. She closes those blue protals of hers again and whispers the same thing she's whispered every morning of her existance:
"My name is Naminé."

Okay, that's the end of Interval one. So, tell me what you think of it, and I'll post another interval soon, maybe later today.
Thanks a bunch!! ^_^​

 

[Bliip]

i like it! very nice description, i would just look out for spelling and grammar. other than that, really good! :thumbsup:

WOOHOO, 700!

 

[TempestuousWind]

INTERVAL 2​

Naminé unfolds the creased bedcovering back into it's place, the bed looking like she'd never slept there. The whole room shared that quality. The eggshell walls, the bleached armoire (which served absolutely no purpose), the lack-luster bed. A single thing proved she was alive there. Her sketches: the only things that brought color, brought life into the monochrome expanse. She loved colors, the reds, blues, greens, and violets, all running together to create amazing vibrancy. Naminé believed color was the root of life. Standing in the pale room did not make her feel very alive. Or like she existed.
She walks to her painted vanity and makes a quick conclusion: she doesn't like what she sees. Running an ashen brush through her tangles, Naminé speaks with her most precious friend: herself.
"Who are you?" The question comes out small and hushed; she clears her throat to begin anew. "Who are you?" she asks again. There is no response. She realizes she doesn't have one. Without warning, her mouth opens and her reflection speaks; her stomach drops at the sound. "I am you."​

[/SIZE]

Kay, that's the end of Interval two. Why don't you people comment? Don't be afraid to, I want to hear your comments even if they are mean.
Thanks again! ^_^​

 

[Bliip]

nice, very mysterious. and dont worry, soon the comments'll come.

 

[TempestuousWind]

INTERVAL 3:
​

As uncomforting as it was, Naminé didn't want to leave the cold security of her room. She couldn't stay in her room all day unless she was granted permission. She knew that no one's opinion would really change if she was out there versus her not being out there, but someone would eventually notice if she never appeared. Nobody came to check on her much, except the occasional visit from Axel, so this would be the only way for them to report to Xemnas that she hadn't been kidnapped or escaped.

Holding her sketchbook in one hand and the doorknob in the other, she looked back once more at the cage she will most likely be entering again soon. Glancing around the room, she caught her reflection in the glass, remembering her sudden outburst. She quickly closed the door with a small click and took a deep breath to face the strange people she had spent her life with the past years.

She walks down the hallway.​

 

[TempestuousWind]

INTERVAL 4:​

She passes a couple empty rooms, starting to wonder where everyone was, but she isn't worried. They were all most likely wandering around as she was, looking for something to do to pass the time. Sure enough, one approaches her now.

Naminé doesn't have to guess who it is -- they hardly wear their hoods anymore and when they do, it isn't usually around her. Recognizing his face from afar, her stomach deflates and she becomes apprehensive. She tries to hide in an adjoining room, but he has already caught sight of her and marches forward, brisker than before with purpose. "Ahh, Naminé." She freezes at his voice, feeling like a trapped rat. She isn't too fearful; she knows what will happen next.

She keeps her back facing Vexen. "How are we this morning?" he asks her; she can see the false, caring smile in her head without looking. Keeping her breath at a steady pace, she just stands in silence, hoping he will lose interest. Vexen. Number IV. Element: Ice. Eldest member, and yet least respected. Naminé knew all about him. She knows also what others didn't.

As his hand touches her shoulder, she shudders. "Come now," he goes on, turning her around to face him. "I know you can speak. Now why don't you use that pretty little voice of yours, Naminé?"

Naminé. He is one of the few that called her Naminé, but it was only to her face. It was to make her feel comfortable with him, which she wasn't at all. She keeps her eyes away.

"Naminé? Don't you want to talk?" He grabs a lock of her dulled, golden hair between his fingers, slowly letting it fall and brush her face. Then she makes a mistake. She looks briefly at his face, his eyes; just a second, but he's seen it. And she's seen it as well. The hunger. The desire and deprivation in those easily readable eyes of his. It was her he yearned for: her innocence, her purity, but as pure as she was, she was more knowledgeable than he was, no matter his age.

She pulls away. "I've to see Axel about a sketch," she lies horribly. He holds on for a moment longer, then lets the last strand of hair slip out of his grasp. He sighs. "Run along, Naminé. I have things of my own to finish. I'll see you later, I'm sure." She hopes not. She tries to throw him a look of disgust, but she can never manage a proper grimace. She lets him trudge on down the hall, watching until he was too far to see, then does she ran the opposite direction, locking away the new hate she feels for the ignorant man.

 

[Bliip]

Nice, keep it up! it's gettin better and better :thumbsup:

 

[madammina]

wow. Scary. Poor Namine.

 

[TempestuousWind]

INTERVAL 5:​

Catching sight of the library, Naminé walks straight in without hesitation. Pleasant experience or not, Vexen has seen her, so she has one witness; he can report to Xemnas if necessary. Although she's not sure how well the others will believe his word, she isn't in the mood to run into anymore unsettling confrontations.

The library was one of the few rooms in the place with color. She loved to sit and sketch here; the books gave her so many new ideas. She'd read all of them, of course, without Xemnas' permission, but she had an unquenchable curiousity; her mind soaked everything up like a sponge. Sometimes her and Axel would sit here and tlak, but he is nowhere to be found today.

She sits at the large center table, a little disappointed and relieved that no one is around. She opens her blank sketchbook to the first empty page. Getting up, she walks to one shelf and grabs the book she was looking at the day before. Or perhaps it was earlier that day. It is impossible to tell time here; for all she knew, she could have been living there for years or mere days.

She opens the novel in her hands, letting it fall to a page she's previously marked. Naminé smiles; this is one of her favorite books. It talks about an island in the middle of the ocean, crystal and sparkling, always changing colors.

There is a drawer under the table she opens. She keeps her pencils here. She pulls the flap of the case and lets the pencils fall to the surface with small taps. Naminé closes her eyes and imagines the shore of the island; the waves pulsating on the land, the trees swaying to the sea breeze. Soon, a flash of an image comes to her, almost like a forgotten memory, followed by a feeling of familiarity and grief. She ignores it and, with pencil in hand, begins to draw.

Each stroke is given special attention and detail as the scene takes shape. She needs no eraser; she makes no mistakes. Any slight smudge or mark fades into the backround and becomes part of the picture. She takes care in choosing the colors; reds, oranges, violets, blues.The dark green of the plants. Naminé took this much care with all of her sketches: the sketch knew what it wanted to be and used her to give its image shape.

Much time passes, and when she is complete, the art is magnificent. The pristine image of of a sunset beach, tide coming in complete with a backround of vegetation. The drawing is a perfect replica of her vision. Naminé smiles, proud of herself.

Just then, Larxene comes in, head turning. "Ah, there ya are," she says with a sly grin. She walks up to where Naminé is at the table. Naminé looks up at her with big eyes. She'd rather look away, but that would make Larxene angry.

Larxene, Number XII. Element: Thunder. She had a tendency to let her anger get the better of her, and she had a wicked attitude. Those who knew what set her off stayed away, and most everyone did. She looked out for her self and only herself. If it benefited her, she was in on it. Another thing about her Naminé had learned: she hated children. Intelligence-wise, she wasn't exactly a child, but books are usually judged by their covers.

Larxene caught sight of the pencils and sketchbook. "Come on, brat, pack up the doodles," she motions over the mess. "Clean it up. Marluxia wants to see you. Why, I've no idea," she softly mumbles to herself. She walks out, not waiting on her, but Naminé doesn't have to be told twice. Swiftly, she slides the pencils in the case and back into the drawer. She flips the sketchbook cover over; she snaps the book shut and places it in it's postion on the shelf. Before she darts out, Naminé tucks her sketchbook under one arm, following Larxene. The library is back to the way it was before. She could have never been there.

 

[Bliip]

awesome story Isabella! gettin really good :thumbsup:

 

[Star Light]

The story is great. I'm surprised no one has read this. I love it, it's great. I'm not a huge fan of Namine, but the story just it's great.

 

[Essence of Elegy]

Pretty well done for your first. The only thing I'd like to suggest is to not narrate in present tense. Meaning it should be "She opened the novel in her hands" not "She opens the novel in her hands". (Just an example).

 

[Bliip]

i agree with Shadow, but other than that you're doing a great job! :toungesmile:

 

[TempestuousWind]

Pretty well done for your first. The only thing I'd like to suggest is to not narrate in present tense. Meaning it should be "She opened the novel in her hands" not "She opens the novel in her hands". (Just an example).

That actually was the style I was writing in. I wanted to experiment with it and make it seem like you were going through it with her.

Oh, and Star Light, thanks a bunch!! Taht makes me happy to hear!!
*gives a big smile and hug*

 

[TempestuousWind]

INTERVAL 6:​

The familiar hallway. All the hallways gave her this strange, habitual feeling; the corridors prosaic in their simpleness. Larxene goes on briskly; Naminé switches to a more rapid pace to keep up. She wishes she would slow down. It wasn't too long ago she had woken up, after all.

They continue on, the sound of their swift footsteps the only thing surrounding them. Naminé thinks of speaking, perhaps to ignite a conversation, but the silence isn't making her uncomfortable -- just as well, she was used to it -- and she isn't sure what to say anyway. Larxene probably valued her silence as well -- Naminé didn't see her talk very much -- and didn't like her too much to begin with. What a human thought, she muses. She seemed to change day-by-day, and Naminé isn't too sure she likes it.

After a few turns and a few more minutes, Larxene points her to a tall brown door, a splotch of color thoughout the white and grey. "After you," she says, giving a mock bow. Naminé obediently enters the room.

It is now that she realizes where they were heading, standing in the middle of the Organization's meeting room. Although this room is as dull and bleak as any other, it is certainly more intimidating; the group of pale ivory thrones surrounding her, each individual seat uniquely shaped and heightened for each of the unique thirteen members.

But why would Marluxia wish to meet me here? she wonders, a bit unsure now. "See ya, kiddo," Naminé hears behind her, but when she turns her head, Larxene has already disappeared.

She feels like an insect under the microscope; there are more people in the room other than herself, and they sit upon those gleaming thrones, staring down at her.

"Naminé. It seems that Larxene was able to locate you after all," the tall, long-haired Marluxia remarks atop one of the mentioned, heightened chairs. His slanted, narrowed eyes peer at her with as much curiousity as hers did at him.

Marluxia. Number XI. Element: Flowers. He was quiet and sly, but when it came time for him to speak, he had a whole library of vocabulary at his dispense. He believed beauty spoke for itself, and she knew he was quite beautiful. Not necessarily attractive, but he radiated beauty, nonetheless. He was almost always seen with a flower -- usually a large, tinted carnation or rose -- but the flower in question is absent now, showing his seriousness.

Marluxia is also one of the only members who treats her like she exists for a reason. He was in charge of her watch: what she did, where she did it, even if that meant breathing. Xemnas was far too busy to keep track of a child, but she was a graet asset to him, so Marluxia was appointed babysitter. That didn't mean he treated her as an equal, he just gave her the respect of a living being.

Naminé doesn't respond. She knows Marluxia is putting the sentence simply as a sort of greeting. She stands perfectly still, a feat she's learned to perform over time. Two other pairs of eyes look down at her. The cold, hard stare of Saïx and Demyx's mildly interested glance. More uncomfortable confrontations.

"Naminé." Marluxia's voice cuts the silence, getting straight to the point. "Has Axel spoken to you lately?" Her face shows confusion for but a second, then she composes herself and prepares to speak. "Why do you ask?" Her voice is small and forgien in the daunting chamber. She decides not to give any information until she understands the situation, but it looked like Marluxia read her thoughts. Saïx intrudes the conversation. "Answer, girl! Your superior asked you a question! Don't play with us!" Naminé knows he is trying to hit her low: she was faithfully obedient, but she hadn't shown any disrespect at all, she knows that.

She ignores him and stares at Marluxia, the question lingering in her eyes. He either gives up or sees nothing wrong with the inquiry and answers, "We need to know if he spoke to you of any intentions of leaving, and if so, where to." Not exactly an answer, but at least ahe has an eyelet into the state of affairs. "Has he left, Marluxia?" She knows the answer, but asks to be sure. Saïx scoffs and looks away, annoyed with her 'apparent' impudence. Demyx is still quiet, now interested. "Yes, indeed he has, Naminé," Marluxia says, not dropping their gaze. "You may have noticed his absence."

Indeed she did, but she doesn't respond to that comment verbally or physically. A thought dawns on her. "Roxas," she starts, breaking the her held gaze, and with it, the silent conversation their eyes were having. She looks to the wall; staring at the ground would make her look conspicuous. "Has Roxas returned?" Demyx looks to Marluxia, who ignores the questioning look. This kind of drama was just the kind that entertained him.

Saïx glares at Marluxia as if daring him to speak. "That is none of your concern - " "No, in fact, he has not, Naminé," Marulxia interrupts, clearly ignoring Saïx's threat. "That is why I - we've - asked you if you've heard from Axel. He seems to have gone after him, for some reason or another. That is why we need to know if Axel has spoken to you; we cannot locate Roxas's postion."

Finally, the whole story. At least she knows generally where they are, and if they are together, that eases her worry even more. "No," she says, looking back to Marluxia so he could see the truth in her eyes. "We haven't spoken recently, and the last time we did, he mentioned nothing of the sort. He doesn't tell me much about what's going on," she adds. Naminé's train of thought: might as well give them what they want. She just wants to get out of there now.

Before she is given permission to leave, Demyx leans over, getting involved. "But, why do you care, Naminé? Why does it matter if either of them came back?" She freezes; fear shines in her featuresfor a fraction of a second. Demyx probably didn't catch it, but Saïx's stare makes her nervous. She hardens her face and puts a wall behind her eyes, preventing anyone to see in, to see the lie in her response.

"Does it? No," she looks Demyx dead in the eye; he fidgets from the sudden stare. Giving a sly, mysterious smile, she responds, "It doesn't bother me one bit if they returned. If you returned." Demyx looks away, a little perturbed by the child's response. Marluxia just smiles. "You are excused, Naminé. Thank you for your assistance."

Namine turns on her heel, leaving with steady steps. Closing the door, her security fails her, and she runs through the halls - fear written on her face - hoping to find her room before her self-control fails her as well and her tears spill over.

 

[TempestuousWind]

Since none of you people will give this story a chance (or at least post, goddarn it), for those of you who do want to read it, go to:

Vibrant Pallidity, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic - FanFiction.Net

Thanks for those who will actually go to read it, and if you do, please comment. I do want to know if the story is any good or not.

Thank you.​