towerofanimus | happy father's day, have a papanort

Entry tags:

happy father's day, have a papanort

Characters: Master Xehanort (

capax_infiniti) and YOU!
Setting: Your choice!
Format: Action, but will match
Summary: Xehanort's lack of inconvenience for the entire month. Eating monsters, doing the usual routines, hiding out and monitoring what he's got going on... and then the dawning realization that maybe some things are a bit beyond his control.
Warnings: Xehanort.

[For those with magical perception, there's something there not far from the stairs... a spell of sorts, a pricking at the back of the neck due to magical residue. It's hard to say how long it's been there - especially given the fauna of the forest - but it's quite potent. Those who can determine the type of spell would be able to note it's for detection.

Further in, to the untrained eye it's nothing more than just bushes, but those who can see details will notice that the bushes don't seem to be rooted properly... it's not quite right... it's a blind, large enough to hold a couple people and a little more, or one person quite comfortably.

Do you enter and see what is there?]

[Being in the dark and without power hasn't limited Xehanort in the slightest. He glides easily between floors silently, relying on mental maps and seeing in the dark to ensure he's getting where he needs to be. Of course, stopping to watch the others in their moments of confusion is always amusing. Perhaps he'll even help out. Positive reputation is a good thing to have in a place like this.

Perhaps he's going down the stairs, or gliding down the hall. Maybe he's stopped on one of the "safer" floors to see who's still around. The tower is rather empty, after all...]

[Even in the dark, the monsters there don't startle him. One lunges to attack, but he teleports out of the way, reappearing behind it and casting a spell that encases the creature in solid ice for a few moments. With a few careful whacks, the limbs are easily snapped off, leaving the beast to be quite helpless once it finally defrosts and flops limply to the floor, roaring in fury and pain.]

[[OOC: please contact me before posting to this particular part! Due to the nature of what is going on, I'm controlling just how many tag into it. Characters who can sense darkness feel free to have your detectors go off all you want though.]]

[It's a slow process, losing control. Not having a collar checkup hasn't really even occurred to him. There's enough in a day to keep him busy. Now, though, magic doesn't seem to come to him when he calls quite as reliably... a sign that something isn't right. He's never had that problem before.

There's no animals around, either.

And something else, something far closer, stirs within him and for a moment he concentrates, frowning in the effort, wrapping himself in that iron will he's so proud of.

But this time it's not quite enough, and that stirring grows, intensifying, pooling beneath his skin unbidden before surging forth, wreathing him in an aura of darkness that slowly begins to intensify.

His breaths choke in his throat as his hands grasp at the ground, for something solid to focus on as he attempts to rally himself, to push it all back down under his control where it belongs.

Yet, the aura still grows...]

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[Suzaku sees the monster leap and steps forward quickly to protect whoever is about to be attacked. However the monster is cut down before he reaches it and Suzaku blinked in surprise at the frozen monster, magic would never cease to surprise him, before kneeling to slit the creatures throat silencing it.

He looked up to see who it was that the monster had attacked.] Are you injured?

Your concern is appreciated, young man, but I am quite well.

[He bats one of the flopping, defrosted limbs out of the way with his Keyblade before dismissing it, no longer needing it for the moment.]

With darkness enveloping the entire building, these attacks are far more frequent. I'd imagine that most have become accustomed to such things by now. I assume you make it your business to travel between floors and check for those who cannot defend themselves?

[Suzaku nodded politely, noting the weapon; like Riku and Sora's. One that could appear and disappear, shaped as a key.] I do, there are many here who don't know how to fight and with supplies low there is no choice but for them to leave the secure areas.

How people react, what they do, the sort of groups they form... it's all quite interesting. What people will do in the name of survival.

Interesting... I guess it is... [Of course Suzaku had seen plenty of people struggling to survive, but here... with absent rulers, ones that you couldn't get at. With food scarce but available for those strong enough... it was an interesting situation he guessed... but Suzaku was more worried about actually helping those who couldn't help themselves.]

It is a sentiment not shared by many, I am aware. As one who is capable of survival in difficult situations, it's a simple matter for me to simply observe the actions of others.

I do what I can, but the timing is often difficult.

[Suzaku nodded, still frowning a little] Though... I believe that those who can survive easily have a duty to help those that cannot.

Is that so? And perhaps there are other duties that countermand such things... one must be careful in choosing which duties to uphold and which to not, it seems.

[Suzaku knew that well, duties that collided, one being opposite to another. No way out but to betray one duty...] It is a fine line to walk, but I believe we should at least try and be compassionate, there is no gain in not being so.

I think there is something to be said for assisting, and then for coddling. A baby must learn to turn itself over lest it grow up and be trapped so easily.

[Suzaku nodded] But here I believe it would be better to train those that cannot fight when the circumstances are better, for during times like these they need extra help.

As one who trains others as a course of duty, it's a matter of recognizing strengths and weaknesses. Some individuals are just not suited well to such things.

Anyone can be taught, everyone has potential.

[Even someone like Lelouch who was awful at anything physical could fight using his mind, it was just a matter of finding how to match your skills to the situation.]

[Master Xehanort is never late to training. He's always there, waiting for her, and when he isn't today, Xion can't help but fret. She waits, thinking maybe he got held up by monsters or talking to someone, or maybe this is part of the training... But after half an hour passes by and there's no sign, she starts to worry more. An hour later, she decides she can't stand it any more, and leaves to go look for him. She works her way up the floors.

She's on floor twelve is when she senses his familiar darkness. Relieved and assuming the darkness is from his fighting a monster, she searches the floor for him, but... He's nowhere to be found, and there are no sounds of combat at all. Confused, she slowly continues up the staircase. She can sense him on floor twelve, too, and more so, but his figure isn't silhouetted against the starry sky. There's no one else there but her. As she climbs the stairs again, concern is twisting in her stomach.

So when she finally finds him in the cathedral, her heart soars -- and then immediately plummets.]

M-Master Xehanort?

[She can't help it -- She's rushing to his side. What's wrong? Is he hurt? Why is the darkness --

She thinks back to the past week, and how her light has become more difficult to control. It has come to her even when she hasn't called on it, and it's been stronger than it ever has been, which she hasn't understood. She's forgotten to ask him about it, they've been so busy with her training. Is... that what's happening with him?

This much darkness, though... She didn't realize there was that much of it. How did she miss that? He must have such amazing control. But, for all his talk of balance... Why is there only darkness here?

Maybe it's what comes most naturally to him, she thinks, the way the light naturally comes to me. Or maybe he values balance, despite only being able to use one? Something still doesn't add up in her mind, and it makes her uneasy, but she doesn't know what to do about it but push it away for now. Whatever it is, it isn't important right now. What's important is that he's hurting, judging by the way he's breathing.

She kneels beside him with one hand resting on the ground for balance, the other reaching out to touch his shoulder.] Master Xehanort, are you -- ["Are you okay" is a stupid question right now, isn't it?] Is there something I can do to help?

[Shadows and darkness swirl in his vision, or maybe his eyes are closed, he can't tell either way. He can hear a voice calling, something familiar, and he tries not to blink, to lose focus on what he's doing lest it all escapes from him. Let it ravage his body, that's what healing is for. He's concerned about his heart, about letting that volume of darkness finally have its way with him once and for all. It's that which he's clamped down on, trying to fend the void off from.

"Sh...sh..." he murmurs, the owner of the voice springing to mind unbidden, and he grits his teeth for a moment, a hand reaching up to clutch at his chest in concentration. "Xion..."

The aura of darkness around him deepens for a moment in response to the proximity of the light radiating from her and he groans deeply, trying to keep it in check. It had never bothered him before, but then again he'd been able to keep the darkness well below his skin where it belonged. Now, she seemed impossibly bright and he wanted to wince, to shy away from how hot she made the air around them feel. As though there was resistance, their own atmospheres burning each other away.

It's fascinating just as it's unpleasant. He takes a quick breath, managing to form words. "You shouldn't be here..."

Xion falls silent in response to what she thinks is hushing and she draws her hand back, but something in her chest still cries out with worry and a stir of emotions she can't recognize when he clutches at his heart, when he makes that pained sound. The darkness around him is almost palpable, to the point she can nearly taste it in the air and feel it on her skin, slick and sticky and oil-like, and there's something not quite like a smell hanging all around them, thick like humidity and murky like fog. It fills her lungs, cloying and smoky, and she has to fight to cough, to focus.

It's hurting him, and she can't just leave him like this. She can't.

"I'm -- " Her voice wavers, and she clears her throat so she can speak firmly. "I'm not going anywhere. There has to be something I can do to help."

He huddles closer to himself, the brightness of light seeming to intensify with that focus on him. The darkness responds in kind, flaring up around him to make him seem larger, darkening him as though hiding him from view. It's hard to think like this, impulses rushing through him, everything seeming so loud, even the beating of his own heart...

It's mesmerizing in its own way and he has to pull himself back to realize just what is happening, that he has to keep from falling into that pattern of thinking.

It's hard when the light is burning at his skin, as though it's cracking and falling away into ashes, leaving nothing but emptiness and hollowness that darkness is filling. Where the darkness ends and his own thoughts begin is indistinct, unclear. He can't follow it very well anymore... a frightening thought.

It doesn't matter what it does. So long as his heart is safe...

Of course, she may be a tempting target. She should escape. Better that she not be frightened off or damaged. She's still important to the plan, no matter what.

"S-such as...?" He manages to mutter, keeping his focus where it belongs.

Xion draws back as the darkness grows in strength, fear thrilling through her. Her instincts scream at her to run, but she pushes against them. Even if he wasn't her master, he'd still be her friend, and it doesn't matter what happens to her if she somehow helps him.

"I..." She doesn't know. She doesn't know what to do. Her mind is so muddled right now... She needs to calm down so she can think. She takes a deep breath. Come on... Everything's going to be okay. But I need to focus. Think of it like a mission. Objective: Help Master Xehanort regain control.

It's as if a switch flips in her mind. Mission has been issued. No time for dilly-dallying. Now, think!

She thinks she knows what would help her if she was losing control. Having Axel or Roxas or Riku there with her, letting her know she isn't alone... But Master Xehanort doesn't seem to think like she does, especially not like that. Changing her focus like she just did helped, looking at it like a mission instead of a crisis. But that's how Master Xehanort thinks all the time, always with focus on the big picture, on the end goal, so if that isn't enough this time...

What did she do to help bring the light under control again? It reacted to her very thoughts, to the beating of her heart, to the briefest flashes of instinct. She had to be careful and make sure she was actively directing it to something whenever it flared up, otherwise it would go wild like it had a mind of its own.

"Maybe -- If you had something to focus it on, so it had something to do, instead of stewing... I could lure some monsters in here." But how many monsters would it take to bring things back down under control? "Maybe that'd let off enough darkness to where using a corridor to travel to another floor where there's more of them would be safe..."

He isn't sure he wants to move at all, as though if he does he'll dislodge that pillar of darkness weighing down on him and it'll all pour through him at once and disrupt the vague control he has managed to wrest for who knows how long. What she's saying has merit, and were he not so concerned about losing control - and thus his heart - he would probably be inclined to agree.

Though she does have a point. Burning it off, using it in some fashion will help bring it back down to a level he can control. It's just a matter of how to do it without disrupting his concentration too much.

It's too bad there isn't someone else here he could simply just shove it into. Her light is necessary, even as it burns at him imperceptibly. He's trying to foster it, not quash it.

"I cannot focus on anything else," he finally states, in order to explain the situation. "The merest lapse in my attention..."

Her concentration falters. No...? It won't work? If he can't focus, then, he... Then maybe it'd be best she did leave. The thought of it makes her... She doesn't know how to describe this feeling. Almost like desperation, tinged with fear and something... light, but sad at the same time. She doesn't want to leave.

What if there is something I can do I just haven't thought of? What if there's something I can do to help, and I just leave? There has to be something else. Come on, Xion, think!

She's silent for a long moment, brow knit as she circles around ideas in her mind. If he can't focus enough to externalize it like that, to fight, is there some other way to siphon it off? Is there something he could channel it into? Briefly, foolishly, she wishes there was some kind of magical bottle that could hold darkness. That would make everything so much easier...

"I wish I could just make it go away," she finds herself mumbling, but then she frowns at herself. That's... While it's true, it doesn't help anything right now. It's not like she can just take it herself. She doesn't know if something like that is even possible, and even if it was, she doesn't have a clue how she would go about doing it.

... she really doesn't know what to do. Helplessness and guilt rise in her. She can't... Why can't she ever actually help when she needs to the most? Her hands ball into fists on her knees and her head drops. (Her light fades, weighed down by these emotions.)

"I'm sorry," she says after a moment. "If I'm bothering you, maybe I should just leave."

She doesn't want to give up. But if leaving is her only option for helping him, then it isn't really giving up, is it?

Before he can say anything a surge rises within him, and for the moment he can think coherently he's glad he hasn't eaten in a while as he's sure he would have vomited. Instead, his body simply reacts, reaching out as though to strike, wreathed in darkness so deep it appears as a black void.

Thankfully, it never contacts her, as it jerks back against the force of her light. Even her dulled light is still strong, and he winces loudly as the darkness burns away, nullified by the light...

Or maybe there's a solution present, right under one's nose...

Hardly a pleasant option, but if it works well enough to eliminate the surplus, the rest could conceivably be controlled or burned off before it becomes a problem. Gathering darkness is not difficult in the tower, after all.

His lip curls just slightly at the thought of what he's about to say, before he just grits his teeth, preparing for what he's sure will be a most unpleasant experience. If their hearts were pure, it would be a simple matter - and he would already have what he sought. Instead... perhaps an active demonstration of the opposing forces of the universe.

"Muster your hope, your faith, your strength. Fix those who mean the most to you in your mind. Believe - in yourself, in others, in whatever higher power you hold dear. Bolster yourself, wreathe yourself in radiance. Let these forces themselves do the work."

When he suddenly moves, she barely has time to even look up and flinch. She blinks at him with those too-blue eyes, wide with shock. What -- What just happened? Why... Is the darkness that strong? To make him do something like that? It's a visible show of how difficult it's becoming for him to keep it in control.

She's surprised when he starts speaking. It's back in his normal rhythm, and it takes her a moment to realize what he's saying. At first, she doesn't understand why he's telling her to do those things, how it would help. It's clear that he has some kind of idea, because it strikes her almost as an order, despite the elegance of the words. And then it strikes her.

Wreathe yourself in radiance. Let these forces themselves do the work.

Radiance -- Light.

Wait -- That's it. I get it!

Xion nods firmly as her confusion clears, and she takes a deep, steadying breath and closes her eyes. Why didn't I think of that? a small voice in the back of her mind berates her. I let myself get carried away again. I lost my focus. I can still help, but I still failed. She shakes her head quickly, furiously, as if to dislodge the thoughts. That isn't light, she scolds herself.

The first images that come to her mind are of sunsets, of a sleepy Twilight Town, of the trains making their ways along the tracks. The blue of the ice cream stands out sharply against the red and gold light. It matches them, Xion thinks. Red and gold, just like their hair. She looks so different, with her tame dark hair. Or... She used to. She supposes that now she matches a little better, with brown being closer to the colors of sunset than black and spikes to rival Roxas and Axel's. At least her eyes have always matched Roxas', and if you combined the color of their eyes with Axel's, then you could probably get the color of sea-salt ice cream. Still connected. She places one hand over her heart.

My friends are my power! Sora's voice rises out of her -- his memories, like an old familiar ghost. (There's a strange echo there, like someone else said that, too, a long time ago, but she must just be imagining things.) She knows that it applies to her, too, just as much as it does to him. She wonders if it's because she's his replica. Well, if it is... She doesn't regret it. She needs to thank him for it. Of all the things she wants to fix, to do over, that... is not something she would ever, ever change.

Her friends... She doesn't know what she'd do without them. Without any of them. Roxas, Axel, Riku... her otherself... Master Xehanort... And even the people she didn't know terribly well, but had been kind to her, like Naminé and Reno and Princess Zelda. She feels like she owes them so much, so much, that whatever she does, it will never be enough to pay them back.

That's why... she was willing to give up everything, even being remembered, in order for Roxas to be himself a little longer, to come to terms with everything, to hopefully come to peace with what was to come... And why she was going to give up more than everything in order for Sora to wake up. She'd been living on borrowed time, even though she didn't know until it was almost too late. But that time that was given to her, his memories that she took from him... Because of all that, she had the chance to meet Axel and Roxas. She was able to be herself, even for a short year. Even if that year lasted too long, stretched thin to carry her to the Tower, to where she could meet even more wonderful people. Even though she ran away when she should've run forward, even though she made so many mistakes she could never undo -- Her time with them has made her life worthwhile.

She has understood why Sora took the Keyblade of People's Hearts and plunged it into his chest for some time, now, but it has never rung more true than this very moment. She knew that he would do it again and again and again to save his friends, and she knows that she would, too. Her mind and heart have never felt so clear before, even when she made up her mind to go to Roxas that final day on the Clock Tower.

I wish I could go home, truly go home, she thinks. If I could, I would set everything right again.

Xion opens her eyes. She isn't aware of the light positively radiating from her heart, from the memories that form the foundation of it, from the echoes of other hearts within her own. She hopes that it's working, because she can't stand to see someone she cares so much for in so much pain. Master Xehanort, he -- For all the doubts she's had, at the very least, he has given her this moment. He's helped her, he's taught her, and while she knows she still has a lot to learn, she knows he's guiding her to find her purpose again. Maybe she can't go home, maybe she can't return to Sora, but... That just means she has the chance to find a new path, one that she chooses to walk, not one that she has to because of the circumstances she's in.

Saying "thank you" right now would be... odd, she knows, so she doesn't. Instead, she just smiles (and it's all her but there are echoes of Sora and Roxas and... and someone else there, too), and she reaches out to gently cover one of his hands with hers.

She's glad she didn't give in to that moment of weakness, that she wasn't allowed to dwell on it. She's glad she didn't leave. Now... She can only hope that it's working, like he thought it would.

Edited 2012-06-25 11:52 (UTC)

Her hand burns white-hot, the skin beneath his glove raising in welts as the darkness rushes up, dissipating violently against the pressure of her light-imbued hand. The radiating light from her is like a blast of burning air, the darkness and light burning away almost audibly in the violence of the action. He's vaguely aware that he's made some sort of sound, probably a choked cry due to the blistering, overwhelming pain as all the surface and outer darkness roil off as balance exerts itself between the two cosmic forces.

While there's still a great deal left, it's manageable for the time being. All that remains is the scent of ozone in burned-out air and the prickling at the back of his neck that he usually got when around those with strong light.

For one brief moment, he lets himself feel as old as he actually is and sags slightly, awash with sundry aches and pains from the experience. He's not entirely sure he wants to risk casting a healing spell, with how unreliable his magic has become.

Xion's smile vanishes and is replaced by a look of concern and worry at his cry. She almost pulls away for a moment, afraid she's hurt him, but she catches herself and instead firms her grip. She doesn't know she understands what's going on, exactly, or what it's doing to him, but once this is all done and over with and he's okay, then she can ask him to explain it to her, and everything will go back to the way it's been for the past month.

"Are you... okay now? Master?" she asks tentatively, still not pulling her hand away from his.

It takes a moment or two for him to register that she's talking. There's a vague buzzing in his ears, one he attributes to the rapid turnover of light and darkness in his immediate vicinity. He feels burned all over and his hand feels sticky, fabric clinging to skin due to burst blisters and leaked serum. He's only just aware of the pressure of her hand over it.

"Manageable," he says quietly, taking a long breath. "For the interim."

He's okay. She breathes a sigh of relief. He's okay. It worked. (She didn't entirely fail him after all.)

There's something welling up inside her, now that fear and worry are subsiding, and it's bright and clear and... happy. It worked. It worked. All at once, that something bursts and she can no longer sit still.

"Good!" she finds herself crying as she throws her arms in the air in a celebratory fashion. The next thing she knows, she's hugging him in sheer joy.

For one brief moment everything is relatively stable.

And then suddenly there's a Sora clone radiating light latching onto him and he's very grateful that the surplus of darkness has already burned off because judging from the results of the small contact it would have been very unpleasant indeed. His skin is raw and sore and chafes where the fabric rubs against it, and he's vaguely aware of the throbbing heat being drawn out by contact with another living creature.

She's having a moment. He considers briefly before finally deciding to play along. In a manner of speaking, perhaps, he does owe her that courtesy. He settles his arms loosely around her, wryly wondering to himself just how long it's been since he's done this, whether imitation or genuine.

If there's one good thing that will come from this, it's that the secrecy of the event would be secure. She's been bound to silence... breaking that oath would lead to rather dire consequences.

She is having a moment, thankyouverymuch, and probably to Xehanort's relief, his returning the hug shocks her out of it. She never expected him to reciprocate any form of physical affection ever, even in her subconscious, and the sudden contact almost makes her jump. At the very least, it seems to have brought her to her senses, as she's now turning absolutely red and retreating, pulling back until she's sitting on the cathedral floor and trying to hide under her hair.

"I -- uh -- S-Sorry." Why is she apologizing? He hugged back, so that meant it's okay. ... Right? "I -- We should get moving, right? You said it's okay for now, so we should find some monsters, and... Sorry."

It's something of a relief when she pulls back, as it means there's no longer the required pretense of physical comfort. He's more than content to give her as much space as she wants - if anything, her reaction is highly amusing.

"For the time being, I will retreat to where I have been staying and recover appropriately. Then perhaps I will deal with what remains, if necessary." After all, Braig would be quite useful in gathering some supplies, and a poultice didn't require any magic to make.

"Okay." I'm glad to have helped, she thinks about saying, but decides against it. A more playful option of I told you I could help also comes up, but she casts it aside, too.

"Is there anything else I can do?" All things considered, she... didn't actually do much of anything. And if there's still something that he needs, then why shouldn't she get it for him?

He rises to his feet, not nearly as gracefully as he would have liked. A chorus of aches shoot through his legs and once again he's reminded of the pressing need to find a new vessel.

There's far too many things to do, but the rest of the tower needs to be back before they can really begin. He closes his eyes in contemplation for the moment. Perhaps some good will come of Ganon's scheme, in that perhaps the rest will be drawn back.

... they were to have some sort of lesson today. He shifts slightly, holding out an arm. "You may escort me back, while giving a verbal report on what you have learned from our activities today."

Without thinking, she takes his arm. It's become habit, now, and even if it wasn't, she still reached for him when he stood.

His words catch her entirely off-guard. "Wha -- I -- uhhh..." She probably shouldn't be terribly surprised by this, she knows. He's a vigilant teacher. "Well... A person's light can fight off another's darkness, even if their hearts aren't in direct competition..." That much is obvious, though. She hesitates, but then ventures, "And I tend to... Well, thinking of dilemmas as missions helps calm me down. It's funny -- For so long, I thought I didn't have a heart, and I wasn't sure if I had one, but, when I think about it... There's no way for me to not have one."

He's leaning a bit more than he would have preferred, slow and careful steps that fall in time with hers as they go.

It's an impromptu lesson, but one that will still bear some fruit even if it's not what he'd been planning. "Of course. That's a simple fundamental. Light and Darkness are always in opposition regardless of circumstance."

What she says about herself is curious and he files the information away for future reference. It's a good way to keep her compliant, if nothing else. "Finding the right motivation is essential. There are often many duties one must do of an unsavoury nature, but they are still essential. A framework to fall on even when one must get their hands dirty ensures that one does not wither or fold regardless of what comes.

You have memories and emotions, do you not? The heart is the seat of these things."

"Then... Maybe... That's why I have a heart to begin with." Xion lifts her free hand to rest over her chest. "Sora..."

She really does have so much to thank him for, doesn't she?

Anyway -- Back to the rest of the topic. "Motivation isn't really my problem, though. It's more like... Emotions get so overwhelming, sometimes." She can't help but wonder exactly what he's referring to, though, when he talks about getting one's hands dirty. To her, it implies doing something bad. But, what she did just now... It wasn't bad, right? It was helping a friend. She'd never consider that "dirtying" her hands.

"You are young, it's natural for your feelings to get the better of you. It takes a great deal of practice and discipline in order to keep them in check in difficult situations. As a Keybearer, often you may be forced to make difficult choices..."

Of course some reinforcing training would take care of that... but for the time being, having her emotions as wild and free as they were would be useful. Until it was determined what exact role she would play in things, at least.

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happy father's day, have a papanort

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TEAL DEER CROSSING AHEAD

oh my god I'm dead I'm actually dead

/casts full life

/sobs gently in a corner

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............................................ /joins you in that sobbing corner

/packs up tiny little suitcase sobbing forever

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