towerofanimus | (no subject)

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Characters: Terra-Xehanort and anyone who wants to find him
Setting: Dorm Room 1-08, Floor 99, Floor 83, Floor 47, Floor 77, and the Elevator and Cafeteria.
Format: Will match whatever you reply with.
Summary: Terra-Xehanort wakes up and has no clue what's going on so it's clearly time to explore.
Warnings: None currently. ~~feels weird not to use the xehanort warning~~

Room 1-08

[When the sleep paralysis finally wears off he curls, clutching his head briefly as though fighting off a rather nasty headache. A few minutes later he uncurls, sitting up and looking around in confusion.

Nothing looks familiar, but that isn't saying much. Words come to mind to describe the surroundings... but his mind is blank. Completely. No memories spring forth to tell him what is going on. The pages left to him give no solace, merely stating that whatever he didn't remember has been destroyed.

Slowly he gets up, a bit unsteadily at first as he attempts to find his footing. There has to be people around. Perhaps they knew what was going on]

Floor 99

[It's exciting at first, as there's so much to look at, and he eagerly wanders over to the prominent formations to take a look. Examining the crystals here proves to be a bit painful, try as he might. There's something about the infinite depths, however, that sticks in his mind even as it hurts his eyes. However, there are plenty of spots to sit, or even curl up if one doesn't mind the dampness. He finds one such spot and claims it for his own, resting his arms on his knees and his chin on his forearms as he tries to think more about what's going on.

Of course, nothing comes of it. What does one expect from the void?]

Floor 83

[Oh... something that isn't a white skin-tight jumpsuit that leaves little to the imagination. This seems like a good idea, though he's not picky. He begins to stort through the piles of clothes, looking for something roughly his size. Whatever that his. He holds up random shirts against his chest, checking to see how big they are, before continuing on his search through the massive piles.]

Floor 77

[This looks vaguely relaxing. He's not sure if he was ever interested in this sort of thing, but for the moment it seems like a nice idea. There doesn't seem to be anyone around, so he pushes into the mixed area. The locker there surprises him, as if they were expecting him... ah, but then again, they clearly must have been, if he was here instead of whatever passed for the ruin of where he came from. Tying a towel around his waist he pushes into the sauna proper, flopping onto one of the ledges to soak up the heat.]

Floor 47

[There's nothing there at first, just the curtains, and he wanders through aimlessly. A flicker out of the corner of his eye... did he see something move? The rustle of fabric... the pitter of footsteps. Is something else there? He begins to move in a calculated fashion, as though tracking from the sounds... until at last he stands before one of the curtains, an almost pleased expression on his face.]

You thought you could hide... well, I've found you.

[And he reaches out to pull open the curtain and reveal his quarry.]

Elevator, and Obligatory Cafeteria

[After everything his stomach announces that it's hungry, and he decides to indulge it if only to get it to be silent. It's a long way to the cafeteria... longer than expected, and dull. There isn't much to look at in there, and he's not really sure he wants to go scouring the darkness inside his head again.

When the doors finally open he shuffles into the cafeteria, glancing at the menu briefly. Before he can even order anything, though, he's presented with the classic starting dish. No amount of attempted arguing or cajoling or anything seems to make a difference. It's thrust at him until he finally relents and takes it.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[His eyes go big for a moment when he finally spies his observer. He mimics the wave, more of a sort of distracted wag of the hand than anything resembling a proper greeting. It's strange, this person here... how long had they been there? Were they watching him?

He shifts, turning to face the stranger properly.]

Is there something I can help you with? Or were you coming to look for clothes as well?

[Though that coat sure looks nice... on second thought, he doesn't even really need clothes, does he?]

['Why' can be summed up by 'as close to intense curiosity as Xemnas is actually capable of getting'. Which compared to a normal person isn't all that much but it keeps him in place. The complete lack of recognition that the younger man has is telling in its own way too. Xemnas was older and had very different clothing, but there was no mistaking their resemblance.

Either Xehanort had never encountered a mirror, or he was far better than Xemnas at feigning a lack of knowledge.]

Yes. There is in fact something you can help me with.

[He doesn't clarify. Aside from raising one eyebrow, no comment comes for finding new clothes. What was wrong with what he was wearing? It was a very nice coat, thank you, and had a whole uniform below it, nice and comfortable and practical for all occasions and weather.

People should envy that coat.]

What do you call yourself?

[This is an important question, and not quite 'what is your name'. If Xemnas' appearance was unfamiliar, his voice likewise was probably going to be.]

[For a moment his eyes narrow, the clothes forgotten. There's something odd about this whole situation that he can't put his finger on, as though he's missing several key pieces.

This thought annoys him and he scowls for a moment, shoving some clothes out of the way.

At least the question posed is one he can answer. He's already found that answer within himself. It was the only thing he could find.]

Xehanort. And yourself?

An interesting name. Are you sure it's yours?

[After a moment, there's a brief, negating gesture with one hand.]

Unimportant. Xehanort, then. You may call me Xemnas.

[Not that Xemnas claims it's his actual name, it's just what he's called. There are fine and important differences, though the differences may only be important to him. Although finding any emotion at all in his voice is a difficult task, there seems to be a thread of amusement in it, and against all odds, he seems to recognize the younger man.]

I assume you've only recently awoken here. There was nothing else for you to wear in the box at the end of your bed, that you have to scavenge like a common -- [A pause.] I suppose there's something to be said for hand me downs.

[His tone changes, almost solicitous.]

Do you require assistance in finding something suitable?

[His frown deepens, defensively.]

It's perhaps the one thing I can be completely certain of.

[He's not sure how he feels about being brushed off, but there's an odd feeling that Xemnas gives off that makes him shiver and makes his heart beat faster. He's not sure how he feels about that... or the simple casual familiarity with which Xemnas speaks to him.]

Was there supposed to be something in that box? It was completely empty.

There are a lot of clothes. I will take some time to find something that isn't... [and he gestures at the pile of garments he's rejected.]

As you say, then.

[Xemnas won't argue it. It's interesting, a curiosity to poke at. One day he'd like to know how his younger self knew his name was Xehanort, as that period of his life was incredibly fuzzy. The apprenticeship was clear and sharp, but waking? Not so much.

He was pretty sure he got carried around like a lamb might be carried by a shepherd. It was disconcerting, even at that point he wasn't exactly a small person.]

Mine had various things in it. It's interesting to know this doesn't stand so for everyone.

[Another one of those pauses, and a ghost of a smile. Well there's one way he can handle this, whether or not Xehanort was possibly simply a simulation.]

If you find nothing that suits you, I will loan you one of my own uniforms. It may be a little large.. [Xehanort didn't have a decade of growing and physical exercise added on yet. Yet.] But I can guarantee it will be of benefit. It's the least I can do for a kinsman. Besides which..

[The heaps of clothes are given a dubious look.]

I mislike the idea of wearing things of dubious origin. Forcing another to endure it would be uncouth.

Perhaps mine was empty so that there would be nothing there to remind me of what came before.

[Of course that implies that this amnesia is intentional, which he has no evidence of outside of this potentiality. He's not going to argue it or anything like that. It's simply something he has to take in stride, desire to know notwithstanding.

At the offer he cocks his head slightly, taking in the look of Xemnas's outfit. Or rather, the coat, as that's all that he can tell, outside of the boots and gloves.]

Is that coat your uniform, or is there more beneath? Either way, I like the look of it.

Or perhaps there simply was nothing from before worth having.

[Xemnas was of the opinion that there was little Terra had that was worth keeping. Especially those horrible pants. The bodysuit was awful, but they were an improvement over the pants. Whether there was anything worth remembering was another matter, and would depend on exactly how much was forgotten.

That too would have to be found out.]

No. There are boots, pants, belt, vest, and gloves as well. Lined to prevent anything like chafing, though some prefer shirts. One may do without the belt but one never knows when having a belt on hand may be useful.

[Xemnas was proud - as much as he could be - of those uniforms. It might have been Xehanort's design originally, but he improved upon it.]

It has many uses beyond simply being articles of clothing. You may however find something to your liking here.

[There is something in his tone that suggests this is probably not going to happen or at least isn't even remotely ideal.]

[That's a possibility he hadn't even thought of, that his previous life was simply rubbish. It might explain a few things... but he still dislikes the empty feeling in his mind where there should have been something.]

Many uses? Such as..?

[His curiosity has been piqued. The clothing around them has been forgotten for the moment in the wake of this new potential supergarment.]

It is waterproof, windproof, resistant to extremes of hot and cold - but will catch fire if you stand in fire long enough, so don't - and protects one from the unmitigated ravages of the darkness when using corridors to get about. As leather goes it is not the most outstanding of armor but will offer protection against a natural beast's claws or fangs.

[Leather made decent armor, but not spectacular. It wasn't designed to be defense against fighting.]

It's designed to be easy to move in no matter one's favored style of fighting. My own has many pockets inside, though that varies as well.

[Xemnas doesn't bother to mention that it also looks amazingly slick and good on just about anyone and anything, that part wasn't as relevant as the more practical uses.]

If I had the resources I did before arriving here I would be able to tailor a set to your specific height and build, but I am somewhat limited here.

Why would I want anything like this [and he makes a sweeping gesture at the clothes around him again] when you're offering me something like that? Even if it's not a perfect fit, it's better than these colour and pattern monstrosities.

I've learned to not make assumptions about the rational ability of those around me. You might have become suddenly and inordinately fond of something for no apparent reason I could possibly grasp.

[Xemnas seems utterly sober when he says this.]

Very well. I will return shortly. It's in your best interests that you don't follow, unless you relish the idea of being devoured by darkness.

[This could actually happen. Xehanort was Xehanort, after all. A seething black hole in space erupts into being directly to his left, neat and enticing looking. Xemnas promptly steps into it and disappears from sight. If Xehanort doesn't follow, he'll be back in short order. If he does, things are suddenly going to get a lot more exciting.

But barring that, Xemnas will return in under five minutes. He knows where he's going.]

I feel that anything would be better than this... [and a gesture at the white jumpsuit he's wearing.] I would be a fool to decline your offer, however. It is more appealing than anything I've seen here by far.

[He watches Xemnas leave with interest, pondering his words. Devoured? In what sense? Completely physically destroyed, or lost as in a dark wood, or something else that's more abstract? He takes a few steps towards the portal in interest, wishing to stick a hand or his head inside to take a peek, but it closes before he gets close enough.

Vaguely annoyed, he simply waits for the Nobody to return.]

Yes. You mentioned something to that sort already. I will return.

[It's for the best Xemnas isn't followed. He'd be willing to explain the corridors and all the dangers therein so long as he doesn't have to worry about dragging the younger man back out before the darkness overwhelmed him. Xehanort one day would be a master of the element but for now, he was six feet of victim waiting to happen.

It would be inconvenient.

But Xemnas does return in short order, with various items in his arms. All black leather and edged in silver, neatly cared for, and probably far better (or at least less hazardous) than anything to be found on this floor. Perched atop is what looks like a small mirror, though where he found that is questionable. The black vortex he's using to travel about hangs there for only a few moments before collapsing in on itself.]

Good, you didn't try to follow. Better for both of us. Here. What do you recall beyond your name?

[Perhaps it's for the best that the other doesn't know about his failed attempt to follow. He seems more pleased by the idea of him having stayed put at least. He bobs his head in agreement at Xemnas' statement, eyeing the bundle appreciatively.

The next statement, though, makes him frown deeply.]

Nothing. All I can recall is events from when I awoke here. The name came to me, but so far nothing else has arisen from the void in my mind.

[There's no real hesitation in handing the items over. They might not fit perfectly, but Xehanort would grow into them eventually, if he kept them long enough. Leather was durable, it might last.]

Get dressed.

[Xemnas himself hadn't bothered seeking seclusion to put his own clothes on; he might have around females but other men? What's the point? If Xehanort felt differently there were plenty of piles of clothing to hide behind.]

There will be a lack of socks. Apparently whoever saw fit to give me my uniforms did not see fit to provide socks.

[It may not be a problem.]

... It's likely you will never regain those memories, or at least for quite a long time, beyond.. brief flashes. Things that might seem familiar. I would suggest not dwelling on it but I know you will be incapable of letting it go so easily. There are some things that I may be able to tell you, to fill in some of those gaps.

[But not even most things. Xemnas is aware of most of it, but telling his younger self, when Terra's heart may still be trapped within, would be a very bad idea.

If the wrong one awoke, that would put a serious crimp in things.]

Edited 2013-09-09 23:03 (UTC)

[He doesn't need to be told twice, though he doesn't quite care for being told at all. There's little issue to undressing in front of a stranger for him, but then again if this person was so keen for him to wear the clothes then he could deal with a bit of nudity. Then again, it wasn't so much undressing as it was peeling off the rather tight jumpsuit. It was almost a relief to get out of it, and he rubbed his arms and legs once or twice absently before starting into his new garments.

He doesn't respond to Xemnas' comment until after he's pulled on the pants, and he stares at his bare feet, wiggling his toes in vague amusement. It is a bit big, but it feels much nicer than the jumpsuit did, and he's more than certain it's much better quality than anything that he could find on the floor.]

Wearing boots without socks... I will locate some myself. For the time being this is more than sufficient. Many thanks for your kindness.

[He inclines his head politely. Then, at Xemnas' next statement, his eyes go big and he's closing the gap one step at a time, quickly.]

You knew me before all of this?

[Xemnas was less keen on Xehanort getting into different clothes than he was interested in not seeing that bodysuit anymore. The difference was subtle but important. There were just some levels of ridiculousness he had trouble tolerating if he didn't have to, and that white outfit was one of them.

It wasn't, quite, offensive. He didn't really find anything genuinely offensive.

Some of these items in this floor are very near qualifiers however, and he prods a nearby pile with the toe of his boot, looking faintly disgusted. Hand-me-downs, the worst disaster to befall anyone with any sense of self-respect.]

So long as it is useful then thanks are not required.

[It's hard to imitate actually caring so he doesn't bother. Better to have his younger self in something immediately identifiable, as opposed to whatever generic nonsense one might dig up on this floor. There's a pause, when he's asked if he knew Xehanort.]

That's an interesting question. This place, this 'tower' draws not only from one reality but all possible realities based from it. I could know you, you may draw from the very universe I come from. But you may also be a stranger in a familiar shape, part of some other reality where things have gone much differently.

[...Multiple realities and time travel might be a little difficult to grasp right now, and after a moment, Xemnas sighs and makes a brief negating gesture.]

But more or less, yes, I know you. We are relatives of a sort.

[He gestures to the hand mirror he'd found.]

I too have certain memory problems, before roughly a decade ago. Everything before it is ... patchy at best. But I recall you. I know approximately where you should be right now, instead of this place.

[The difficult part is not lying about any of it, and still not being clear. A confused being, without Xehanort's heart awake and active, may well balk at what would come.]

I do know you have spent a good deal of your life in a world called the Land of Departure. There you trained to use a rare and powerful weapon. Where it is now, and whether or not you can still use it, I do not know. Nor do I know if you can still wield the power you once held over the darkness, or with your memory loss that too fell by the wayside.

[Truth - for both Xehanort and Terra.]

[It's a lot to take in at once, and he goes over everything that Xemnas says with a fine-toothed comb.

The matters of realities is a bit complicated, and he's not completely sure he understands, but it does ring true in a basic sense. The outcomes of different choices in a decision... in this place, those can exist at the same time rather than be bound by whatever laws govern such things. It's bizarre to think that there could be multiple hims... or that he's a multiple himself from the point of view of whom he's speaking with. It's sobering to think of, that his reality may not be a "core" reality.

The following admission though makes his brow furrow. What does that even mean, of a sort? distantly related? He takes the mirror wordlessly, peering into it, before coming to an understanding of his own. His appearance was uncannily similar to that of Xemnas, down to the pointed ears and skin tone, though Xemnas was definitely older than he was. Still, it's odd that he's being deliberately vague about their proper relationship. Is it out of a sense of not wishing to claim kinship, or is there something else to it? Are they properly related or is there a twist? He frowns deeply as he thinks about it.]

So it would seem, though I would dare ask in what fashion.

[Appearance-wise, at least, they could pass for siblings. He won't voice that sentiment, though.

Hearing about Xemnas' memory issues is curious as well. Is it a familial thing, or is there something more at work here? The idea of where he 'should' be makes his brow furrow again. Are they not in the same place? Or is he referring to the extra-dimensional thing again? It's any wonder that Xemnas can keep all of this straight, if his memory is as full of holes as he claims.

He takes in what Xemnas gives him, longing for more but not voicing that request. There's something in him that refuses to simply beg details, especially from this man. He will take what he can get when he can get it, and slowly extrapolate the rest.

He tilts the mirror to take in more of himself, noting the shape of his arms and shoulders. The build suggests someone with upper body training, that could easily fall in line with a weapon. The darkness has little meaning to him, though his mind can spin meaning easily enough.]

I do not know of this weapon, nor of any sort of dark power. I have nothing to my name outside of what you see. I wouldn't even know where to begin for that sort of power.

[Not that he isn't curious to find out just what it can do... perhaps something like that hole in reality that Xemnas had travelled through previously.]

For all intents and purposes we are brothers. You may eventually find another man here who resembles both of us, but is younger than I and older than you, with brown hair, he is likewise ... related. He is from a different 'reality' than I and thus possibly also different from yours, but we are still kin.

[Why lie when the truth will do?]

There is of course more to it than that but you may lack the resources and education to truly understand it, which means I will have to teach you myself so you are capable. If your experience with memory loss is anything like what I endured, attempting to figure out too much too fast and pushing your memories much more strongly than recommended, will lead to ... well, fairly painful migranes and I would prefer to spare you that if I can. It's not worth the pain; you might think otherwise at this juncture but perhaps you'll feel differently after you've endured them yourself.

[Or wasn't for him, at any rate; Xemnas would prefer to gague the temperment of this younger self's bearing and heart before gently pushing him in the right direction. At least the matter of education is true, how could he explain fracturing a heart and scattering it through thirteen vessels without explaining what hearts were, why they were relevant, and the rest?

... Then again it might be easier for Xehanort to assume that they are replicas. ... He'll field that when it arrives.]

All of us deal with this problem sooner or later, as far as I can tell. I did not have anyone to aid me when I suffered through it, so perhaps this trouble will be less terrible for you. ...In that, I envy you. But I will do what I can.

[He felt no real envy. Nothing at all, in fact, but he was not quite prepared to try to field what a Nobody is, when Xehanort might not even understand what a heart is. Small steps. Assuming Terra didn't roll in and destroy everything, at least; he didn't look foward to playing damage control. A pause, and a slight shrug.]

As for your forgotten talents, that too I can likely help with. I have some skill with the darkness, though not as much as you are capable of; my greatest talents lie elsewhere. The darkness is a dangerous power, but worthwhile if you're strong enough to controll it and not be controlled by it. A weak heart will only become its plaything. But mastered and kept to heel, things such as the corridor of darkness I opened earlier become.. childs' play. This will be far more risky than simply teaching you of your past and a proper education, but not as terribly unsafe as learning it on your own. I will understand if you are afraid to take the chance.

[It's bait, but if Xehanort truly remembers nothing then it would be in-obvious bait. Xemnas was curious if his younger self would rise to the challenge simply because it was a challenge, or if caution would win out.]

[Ah. There was confirmation after all, and the idea of being tangentially related to someone from another reality... it seemed so strange. From nothing to family just like that. Extended family, even. Still, it was satisfying in a way. This individual was clearly looking out for him, as an older brother would. Even if there came times of strife, family was stronger than such matters. He would have little to worry about in that regard in this place, then.

Xemnas' words do make a good deal of sense. Revealing too much at once without the background in understanding would simply lead to trouble that the older man wanted to avoid. The idea of learning more of these things, though... even if it means a little pain, the end result would be worth it.]

I'm not afraid. Not of pain, nor of darkness. If it means I can reclaim what was once mine, so be it. If it means learning something further, expanding beyond this simple moment, even better. No matter how long it takes. Our worlds are destroyed. What else are we to do to pass the time?

[He gestures grandly, an eerily reminiscent movement.]

[There's a ghost of a smile at Xehanort's words. Some might think it's defiant, plunging after forgotten power and strength with little concern for the risks, but as far as Xemnas is concerned, it's appropriate ... and useful.]

That's good to hear. The sooner we find a way to get you back into form, the less likely it is you'll have to worry about the threats this place possesses. Conveniently, that uniform you now wear will protect you from the worst of the dangers. Though consider carefully.

[One hand rises, as if to stop Xehanort's train of thought, palm out.]

You are aware this is a simulation, yes? If not, there is something else you must consider, that is much more important than whether or not our worlds are destroyed.

[The idea of being 'back into form' is pleasing. Reclaiming. Even if he dosen't remember it, it's still where he's supposed to be.

He hadn't thought he'd be able to reclaim parts of his past so quickly.]

It's quite comfortable. I don't foresee any reasons not to wear it when possible.

[Though the next part of Xemnas' statement makes him look up in confusion.]

Simulation? What do you mean?

Ah. You haven't been informed of current state of affairs yet then.

[Xemnas' arms sweep wide, to take in the entire floor - and probably the whole tower.]

Everything you see is an illusion. All of it. A programmed simulation, a digital creation to trick the mind. Every floor, every bit of clothing, every item and object you interact with, either does not exist or exists in a form other than what you are allowed to see. Most others I have encountered are aware of this as well.

[He lowers his arms, expression thoughtful.]

And yet here we stand, and every object we interact with has the perfect similarity to reality. Food tastes like food. Warm clothing, as if they should, and so on. However I must reiterate, this is a simulation. It's not real. Sooner or later we will see the illusion 'shut off' and see the 'reality beneath the deceptions'. These will, I expect, be very believable. But once you are aware you are trapped in an illusion, how do you actually know it ever shuts off?

[Xemnas has actually thought about this quite a bit. He's done it to others - trapped them in worlds of his own creation. Perfectly believable realities.]

All those who brought us here would have to do is alter the simulation to fake yet another layer of itself. An easy task. Painfully simple. What better to keep captive a prisoner than convincing them they have nothing to return to, their worlds destroyed and friends gone? Obviously it is already capable of adapting to our expectations and memories. One step further is effortless.

[He'd heard of the terrors of this tower, but the only thing that settled uncertainty into the hollow where his heart should be was the certainty that he never again would know if he was free of the illusion. This place, adaptive, manipulative and layered illusions all, could effortlessly attempt to create 'power failures' and the like, if the goal is to torment those within.

No. The terror of this tower has nothing to do with the monsters within it, and everything to do with never knowing if anything will ever be reality again. Not when the senses are so easily deceived.]

I have no reason yet to think that the individuals I meet are part of an adaptive program to trick me into thinking I have 'company', as I couldn't imagine up some of the ... things I have encountered.

[Stupid things. Mindbogglingly stupid things.]

So it is best to assume that you are real. I am real. Possibly everyone you meet is real. Our power, our knowledge, our memories - these are things that can be altered and tricked, but as this place also requires a level of competence to 'survive' the simulation, it's best to progress anyway with reclaiming what has been lost to you.

Edited 2013-09-16 04:55 (UTC)

[It's food for thought, and he ponders carefully. Not real... if reality is so easily manipulated then...]

So my loss of memory may simply be a part of this illusion. Perhaps a means of ensuring my compliance to the structure of whatever game they're playing.

[Xemnas' seeming paranoia runs deep, and while Xehanort isn't quite sure he wants to go that far, those words do have merit. If one stares at things too long, the complex potential layers become apparent.

He's not ready to be that paranoid. There's too much to learn before he's ready to state a position on things.]

I'd like to see this happen. There should be ways to test things, to see just how deeply everything goes...