towerofanimus

Entry tags:

[001]

Characters: Kuja and YOU
Setting: Floor 5, Floor 20
Format: Prose, but I'm willing to adjust.
Summary: Kuja woke up, dressed properly, then went to verify the note. He doesn't like what he sees.
Warnings: Depression, discussion of planet destruction, slight dissociation, suicidal thoughts

Floor 5

One of the first places Kuja found was the observation floor, peering into one of the viewing terminals. He had awakened disoriented and alone, wondering if he was in some sort of afterlife or final hallucination. The note he discarded as rubbish, focusing instead on finding true answers (and something more stylish). While he found his clothes easily enough (though many might find them startling), the red around his eyes is a touch crooked, the neutral color on his lips not quite perfect, his rust-colored nailpolish overlapping onto his cuticles in places.

What he found was a world destroyed. Gaia's once lush surface scrubbed clean of all life, leaving only dust and rock. Not even the Iifa Tree was left, no Mist leaking from caves, no monsters roaming the worldwide desert. The atmosphere was either sucked out or burned, the sky black and empty.

I won't let this world exist without me!

Floating up in a rush of agony and power, Kuja had unleashed it all on a half-dead planet. What plant life had managed to florish he cut down, burning glassy stems and watching them fall into other, asymmetical dominos falling and shattering against one another. Fauna was no safer than flora, an instant extinction as bodies were crushed by plants and scorched by magic. He even burned the silver dragons he was so fond of before, reveling in the beauty of their smoldering pale feathers. Bran Bal was crushed in a trice, and Kuja soared like a vengeful god cutting a swathe of judgement. Soon only the surface remained but it wasn't enough, it had to be hollowed and smashed just like Kuja, just like his ambitions and future and - and as the atmosphere was next to set ablaze, Kuja shaped some around himself as he sliced through the crust of the planet, molten chunks of the mantle exploding out and solidifying as it met the chill of space. Still not enough; not nearly enough. Kuja had to destroy more, had to stomp the pieces into space dust so there was nothing left, nothing but the void of space and the light of more stars with old screaming light that needed to be snuffed and silenced, nothing for ever more, nothing nothing nothing -

Nothing left. Nothing left of his past, nothing left for his future. Nothing left of his last pinprick of hope. Kuja stared at the console, numb with thoughts that circled but couldn't find rest. "Do I need a reason to help people?" was only met with "let's be happy here", a moral and a life and a soul made pointless for being cut short. A victory made pyrrhic by weak vacillation, by that damned boy who wouldn't back down and stole respect.

Eyes continued to stare at the wasteland, but they saw nothing.

Floor 20

On the edge of the platform into the empty space, Kuja sits, kicking his heels and heedless of the fall. Fair away from the staircases, he's hunched over, staring at the space below his feet. The note from his room is crumpled in his fist, but eventually he smooths it out and carefully folds it. Paper airship complete, he tosses it into the void, watching float downward before setting it ablaze with magic until it's reduced to ashes on the breeze.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"By all accounts, everyone here is from another world. Even those who know each other may be from other words as well. My former apprentice was from another world; I encountered him during my travels."

He isn't about to go into too much detail. Not at the first meeting, at least. If Kuja warms up to him enough, perhaps he'll explain a bit more about how the universe works from his perspective. There needs to be a hook, after all...

"Is that so..."

A startling notion. Were others also transported as he? Other worlds, other universes destroyed? Kuja would have to gather more data before jumping to a conclusion.

"If you don't mind my asking, if you had an apprentice, what were you master of?"

He took a moment to consider how to respond to this. A way that would leave a hook, a good impression, the desire for more knowledge... that was key.

"One could say that perhaps I'm a master of the universe itself - or all universes. Mine is a key that can unlock any lock, even the hearts of worlds themselves, and the power I wield is vast and limitless.

Quite a boast for one old man. Kuja didn't believe it for a moment - limitless indeed! and yet still here - but it wouldn't do to underestimate him: if he thought he was a master, then likely he had power and abilities to back it up. Best not to challenge it right now.

"Impressive. I've never heard of a world having a heart, but I'm sure you speak from experience."

"I wouldn't expect you to believe without proof, but such proof is hard to come by and potentially disastrous." Even thinking about finding the Heart of the Tower, let alone what catastrophe would result from its unlocking or locking, was something better saved for another day when there were more answers. It was better to go into an experiment with some inkling, of course... hence all of his research and study on the Keyblade War and Kingdom Hearts.

There were other, easier ways to demonstrate, but he didn't feel apt to show them. Not yet. If the young man was truly interested, perhaps. There was a seed of potential in him that could grow into something impressive if properly cultivated. Were that there enough time for such a thing...

"Most of my fellows prefer to keep the worlds in the dark about their true natures, forcing them to wallow in ignorance in order to uphold some semblance of stability."

Of course he couldn't demonstrate his powers right now. At least it was a good excuse. Kuja understood prudence in the face of potentially disastrous consequences. If he could truly access the "heart" of a world, well, that wasn't something to take lightly.

"That seems to be a common pattern: the choice between chaotic knowledge and stable ignorance. Some say the truth shall set one free, but first one must be prepared to know it, else one could become... well. The power of denial is strong indeed."

Kuja knew this himself so well, after all. Too well.

"The truth is rarely pleasant," Xehanort nodded, continuing that line of thinking. "It can destroy the minds of lesser men, turning their worlds into shadows and doubts. Just as one must be strong against darkness to keep it from consuming them, the truth must be taken in with an open mind and a strong will. Anything else simply leads to denial and delusion."

He'd seen this enough times to know sharing his own truths with others was worthless. The teachings of light permeated the Order too strongly. Even the younger ones here were mostly caught up in its staid ways. Seeing Ventus' reaction was more than telling enough.

Despite himself, Kuja chuckled at the exclusive turn of phrase.

"And only men are susceptible?" He shook his head, "How odd, where I come from, dark magic affects all in the area, friend and foe alike."

Regardless, the rest of what he said aligned with Kuja's experience. Whether hiding it from themselves or for other, Kuja had used the truth as a weapon and armor both.

It took a moment to realize what the young man meant. "Pardon my poor choice of words, then. I spoke of mankind, however, there are more sentients in the universe than simply those of humanoid shape. Neither darkness nor truth discriminate in such a way."

At the correction, Kuja merely gave a bland smile. Poor phrasing wasn't what he truly wished to discuss anyway.

"No, I find that magic is an equalizer, unless one takes pains to protect oneself against it. Shame that talent is not so evenly distributed."

A curious shift in conversation, although one that Xehanort is quite familiar with. "Perhaps, although with the levels and powers inherent within, magic is good at its own divisions. Protecting oneself against the truly potent spells can be quite difficult unless one has mastered them oneself."

"Is that so?"

If people were from different worlds, might magic also vary? Might the very laws of nature and physics as Kuja know them be utterly backwards? If planets could be tiny, or flat, there wasn't much he could rule out.

"Where I come from, casting and defending oneself against magic need not be wholly related. It's easier to develop both when one becomes stronger, but I have seen people and monsters alike that might excel at offense but falter at defense, or the reverse."

"So it is," Xehanort replied, nodding. "One does not preclude the other. And some creatures have natural defense or inclination to one or both. However, the understanding one gains of magic with the knowledge of a spell often gives them assistance in learning to counter it manually."

"Theory can lend itself to practice, yes."

Something which Kuja took far more advantage of than most other mages he met, in fact.

"Some are content with only retreading pre-established spells, though. How dull."

"Some merely don't have the capacity for unweaving the workings of magic to develop their own applications."

Or they were merely limited to playing within the rules by their own limited teachings. Either way, they were pitiable.

"And you're not one of them."

Now Kuja was intrigued. Magical experimentation was far from unknown on Gaia, but no one ever seemed to push its potential like Kuja had. If he could find another who embraced and delved into that area of study, well. He'd forgiver worse things than being a bit pompous.

"The power is waiting there to be mastered, to be grasped and wielded in whatever form one desires. Making it one's own is a simple matter."

There's a rather satisfied smirk. He's fairly certain only Yen Sid himself could rival his magical repertoire. He's studied far to long and worked far too hard to not have a great deal of personally developed abilities up his sleeves... and a great number of surprises that people would never expect as well.

"Of course. Magic is by nature malleable, at least the kind I am familiar with."

At first Kuja thought coming here was a curse, and maybe it isn't a blessing, or even a good thing, but... Now the opportunities are unrolling before him. Because of the proximity of so many from different worlds, couldn't Kuja find different sorts of skills, sorts of knowledge, sorts of magic? What things could he create if he could join them?

"I wonder... if our magic is different, perhaps we should explore the results of a hybrid."

Oh, Kuja. You just said two of his favourite words, "explore" and "results". His curiosity is definitely piqued, and he carefully regards the young man before him. Perhaps there's something there after all, that potential, that spark he could fan and make into something truly astounding.

Of course, it'll take some observation and testing first. One shouldn't rush into these matters... especially with the judgmental horde of lightbearers waiting to leap upon the unexpecting. No, if Kuja really has that potential, it'll be evident in their future dealings. Then, perhaps, the offer.

For the time being, though... "I would be quite amenable to such an experiment. The compatibilities of magic is something that has not been studied so intensively in any recorded format."

Likewise Kuja's imagination is sparked from the potential. How much more sophisticated could his powers be if he took new skills and merged them?

"As would I. I'm afraid I don't have the tools for conventional instruction of my magic, but I don't mind using my own magic as a subject for comparison."

Xehanort chuckles low in his throat. "As a master, I am well-versed in the training of magic. If you cannot share yours, it is a simple matter for me to attempt to educate you in mine... provided that the powers are similar enough to be passed on in such a fashion."

He's still growing excited though. The potential to learn new magic is never something to pass up.

"That would be delightful. In fact, if you can teach your magic, perhaps you could reverse-engineer mine in some way. On my world, items are imbued with the spells and one practices with them until one can cast it on one's own. I'm sure mages had to teach magic before such artifacts were commonly available."

For all that Kuja's first impression was poor, Xenahort was growing in his esteem greatly. If not for the magic, but for the eagerness he shared in wanting to explore the new possibilities.

"If you have an example of such an item, unweaving the magic from it should not be difficult at all." If nothing else, hands-on work was something he delighted in. Figuring out the mechanics, the form, making it work and heed his beck and call...

Taking this particular route had been a wise choice. Meeting with such a contemporary was a rare moment, one he could have so easily passed up without realizing. An honest, real smile - a rarity itself - crosses his face.

"It will be a pleasure to work with you."

Thinking back, there were a number of accessories in his trunk, were there not?

"I believe I have a few items, yes."

Kuja stretched out and took a few steps toward the stairs.

"I believe there are some things I need to arrange. But I will keep in contact for the proposed experiments."

Xehanort nods, moving into a bow. He's much more animated now, his interest in this endeavour cemented. "Of course. The next time we meet will be quite the fascinating experience!"

[001]

does that make things better or worse

Better because it's hilarious because it sounds like drunk spock

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Dang that's a great expression .D.

It's his proper "I'M LISTENING~" face

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too bad I don't have an icon of one

Oh well

Re: Oh well

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