http://quirky-sitar.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] quirky-sitar.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] discedo_logs2008-05-14 08:33 pm

[Log-in-Progress] Allies and Loyalties

Who: Zexion [profile] schemingwords and Demyx [profile] quirky_sitar
Where: Zexion's room, 406 on Marshall Street.
When: Immediately following this voicepost.
Rating: G s'all cool, folks.
Summary: With Xemnas back in town, there's some questioning about what former Organization members ought to do with themselves...
the log:


After the sounds of a loud clatter and several moments of manic reaction across the hall, There is a sudden, frantic knocking  at the schemer's door, and the voice of a very anxious musician. " Hey Zexion? Zexion, we gotta talk now... I saw the communicator, is he really- The superior-? Wh-what happens now, should we-"

 He isn't surprised to hear a commotion from the other side of the wall, but he finishes up his typing to said person before setting the communicator down and rising. Surely Demyx hasn't actually...Ah, but there he is, at the door, and Zexion answers it calmly. "Come on and keep your voice down," he orders gently. "There is no need to get everyone riled up about this."

 Demyx ducks inside in quick compliance, tugging and wringing at each long fingers on his left hand till the knuckles snap. "Zexion, the superior! What'll we do? We're not even nobodies now..." He hisses, eyes wide and worried. "Should we tell Harry? Or Torn?"

The schemer immediately presses two fingers to the man's lips to stop his babbling, glaring pointedly. "I said," he murmurs, voice gone icy and soft, "keep your voice down." Slowly letting go of Demyx's mouth, he gestures to the bed. "Sit. There will be no talk of this to anyone just yet. We do not know the circumstances by which he has arrived, what time he has come from, and what he has become in our absence. We know too little as of now to do much."

 He hums a small sound of protest against the smaller man's fingers, but nods slightly, and keeps silent, shoulders hunching a little at the dangerous low of Zexion's tone. He slouches over to the bed and sits carefully on the end, scratching at his own elbows and staring somewhat shellshocked at the floor. "...but either way we'll be in trouble, right?" He half-whispers, finally daring to meet the schemer's eyes again.

The slightly shorter man is pacing gently, just a simple walk to gather his thoughts. He stops at the wall opposite the door and frowns, placing a finger to his lips. With hearts, half of the Organization has no need to go back to Xemnas. But if forced for experimentation, they will be expected to return. Not all of them are satisfied; the group must return. His frown deepens, and he turns back to Demyx at his remark, eyes hooded and almost glinting with some sort of fear lurking down deep. "...No. No we will not. I will not stand for that.
 
It's unnerving, to watch Zexion go silent and pace, because it means there isn't a simple answer immediate on his lips...and that there are other factors in play, ones Demyx hasn't thought of yet beyond the initial rush of a mild panic attack....which is why his communicator's still there on the floor of his own apartment across the hall, recording dead air time. He fidgets on the bed, and turns his face up expectantly  at his associate's reply...somewhat a comfort, somewhat a queasy feeling that this will be...difficult, either way. "...You don't think he'll be mad?"

Zexion shakes his head. "If he is, then he has no right to be. We did what was naturally necessary for us to survive. We befriended people for assistance and comfort, received our hearts, lost....lost good friends, and we have been here longer than him. We died before him. Why should he be angry with us?" he asks. Brushing his bangs back just a little, he looks at the Nocturne sitting on his bed. "But I would be wary. He may wish to see our hearts."

 " ...'cause we failed at our assignments?" Demyx winced, apprehensive. He'd had a long time to collect offenses against the Organization, after all "Superior's always got something to say for that, and...well...we've made different priorities, some of us...we've been talking to the old traitors, and-" the wince only deepens as even Zexion warns to be wary, and he reaches a hand instinctive over his chest, rubbing against the flannel. "...See our hearts? But- but they're working now. I don't want it taken out again."

 "Oh, he won't take it out," Zexion says, a flickering of memory behind his eyes. Xehanort had always been willing to risk everything for answers, for a new solution to a problem. He risked his own heart, and the lives of his companions....all lost. "But he'll do any and everything else to find out why you received one, and what he can possibly do to recreate one...perhaps even using yours to do so."

"I was just...nice to them, and they offered, to all of us. Thats all there was to it." The nocturne shrugs innocously, scratching now at the back of his head...the mullet's gotten longer, and he's kept it like that, even though the sides have been trimmed down neat as he can manage. He shrugs hopefully. "I could just...ask the Sweet One, you know, to make one for him too."

 At first, his mouth opens to reply with a "yes, that would be wise", but something stops him. Xemnas. Xemnas with a heart. Zexion thinks about it, and though it is something they have all hoped for, a longing each has had...Xemnas with a heart would be just like Xehanort: a mad man who would kill for research. "....How wise would that be?" he asks the other.

And he's watching keenly, eyes narrowed, to how Zexion responds. There's that hesitation, a something...all the older Nobodies always have so much better a clue, and while he'd always kept a respectful distance from their business, maybe he's better off in the know. "You tell me." The Nocturne responds with a sudden unusual coolness, settling both palms back on the bed, leaning, cocking his head to one side as he frowns carefully. "...I never knew him, with a heart."

 The very idea that Xemnas will be Xehanort again is bone-chilling to say the least. And yet...he, himself, was no longer Ienzo, even with a heart. So...perhaps he would simply be Xemnas with emotions, which in turn would fuel his normal activities and give him meaning. Now he would have anger with his commands. Drive to finish experiments. The will to actively keep his Organization together. And none of that sounded pleasing. "...Do not speak to him. If he calls for you, then answer, but do not tell him that you know the group, Demyx."

 "I don't really know, them, know them," Demyx shrugs modestly, realizing at once that he holds a fair amount of negotiating power in his pocket that he wasn't quite aware of till now. "...we're just on good terms, and sweet one slips me presents." he adds, poking at his neatly spiked crown...'snazzy', in Yorda-terms. "If he calls for me, then...What I wanna know, Zexion, if we got hearts now...does it even make sense for there to be an Organization anymore?"

 He shakes his head. "No...no, there is no reason for one, but he will call us together. Everyone who has just arrived, and Marluxia, still do not have hearts. He will want us there to complete the set."

An uncomfortable squirm, and the nocturne frowns. "But we're no complete set." He points out. "...There's still missing- And Roxas and Axel, they're not gonna cooperate."

 "Demyx," he interrupts. "Xemnas is not the Superior because he does not know how to persuade people. If they do not come, he will find a way to bring them to him. He will want as many of us as he can."

 "But there's no reason to." He protests in quiet, pained earnesty, almost sulking, looking away. "We've got ours. We don't need Kingdom Hearts anymore, and all that business...I don't wanna really do it, Zexion."

 The schemer watches him, hears the pain in his voice, and moves closer, stopping before him. "Then don't come."

 "Mona's got my coat, even." He mutters softly, as if it had been a silent statement already. "For awhile now, I didn't want to-" And then his gaze rises warily to the schemer, anxious, teeth pinching at his lower lip "This....doesn't mean we can't be friends, does it?"

Zexion shakes his head. "I have no intention of staying with the Superior, should he attempt to wreck havoc on this city. I will, however, stand nearby and watch, and gather all information I can about what he is planning. I will make my decision then. But you should stay away." His lips quirk into a gentle half-smile. "I wouldn't abandon you."

Cascading relief. The cloaked schemer's words are set right always, sometimes more comforting than the tons of water being rained down over this city every day. And it's so very rare that he smiles, even these days, with a heart...so Demyx closes his eyes and just nods in trust at first, then reaches out impulsively, to tug him even closer from where the smaller man stands, and leans forward. He rests his forehead to the schemer's chest, a more intimate gesture than he's ever really dared, but it's necessary now. "Thank you, Zexion" he breathes.

His eyes watch the Nocturne as he seems to collapse from all of his pent-up energy, and he sighs in turn, to show the other that things are relaxed now. They will work things through, but he'll be damned if he lets Xemnas get too close this time. Two hands suddenly tug him closer, and the schemer's eyebrow quirks, looking down in surprise at Demyx's gesture. It's awkward, and almost uncomfortable, but he doesn't move for several beats. Then, Zexion places his hands on the man's shoulders, rests them there gently, and nods. "You're welcome."

Something happening again, a pulse and churning, in his heart...and it's .not quite the same thing he feels for Billy, as he's getting along with identfying the feelings better now. But it's something warming on the insides, to have another who understands, who's sharper with things to say, answers to tricky questions, patience he'll never quite grasp. Zexion is a good ally, and an unlikely friend, and he wishes he were more useful for him sometimes, even beyond...well, the big things, rustling up hearts. Sometimes he's not sure if the schemer's really any happier with it returned. But at least now he has assurance, which is the most that is usually offered. He doesn't move from that spot, and his hands stay uncertainly splayed against the schemer's sides, but he sighs and rests and feels an unusual peace in the present undertow. From here, Xemnas is only ripples on the pond. "...Be careful, okay? Let me know everything that's up. I don't want to make any enemies, we've got enough here...I especially don't want the Superior for one."

 It's somewhat...assured here, to stand in Demyx's arms, and he nods, looking down at him. "Keep all information to yourself, and don't let Billy near him. I will inform Harry and Torn if something goes wrong," he murmurs. "But for all intensive purposes...consider Xemnas a threat."

 "Oh, Billy's not gonna have the wrong idea and give 'em any lip, I know he'll be smart n' keep away." Demyx sighed, settling back just a little, but still staring thoughtfully at the row of beading along Zexion jacket clasp. "No, I need to talk to Harry Mason...I told them, when they took my chip out, that I'd let 'em know, if any more nobodies I knew ever came...I'll just tell 'em to be careful. To make sure everything's in check."

Zexion nods again, quirking an eyebrow fondly at him as Demyx looks across the schemer's chest and clasp. "Fine then. Tell him that I will privately converse with him later...but for all else, keep away from Xemnas. I'm sure he's not thrilled about what's happened to us."

 "Okay." He agrees with a rougher sigh, releasing Zexion finally and flopping backwards on the schemer's bed, staring at the ceiling with something in his eyes that's still mildly (and justly) terrified. "Yeah..." he half-groans. "I'm banking on the worst."

: The schemer sits beside him gently, looking at him. "The worst may yet come, but for now...do as I've said. I'll give you every warning you need before anything happens."

 "Uh-huh." He sighs softly, kneading at his forehead a little. "...We'll just...work it out as we go, I guess. He'll need to get his chip out to do too much, anyway."

 "Vexen will be taking care of that," Zexion mumbles softly. No turning back then.

 "Vexen?" His eyes widen with a sharp wince of realization, and he makes an uneasy sound in his throat, sitting up again. "So he's sticking with then, huh? You know I tried to tell him, he should get to know some people here..."

 "He would never," he says softly. "Vexen is too proud to stoop to any level lower than a scientist or superior. And with Marluxia around, I can't see him stepping out for too long."

 "There doesn't gotta be levels, you know." Demyx mumbled softly, looking a little dissapointed. "Or superiors."

"Try convincing him of that."

The nocturne gives him a crooked, sideways smile "You're the better one at convincing."

 "Tch. He is still in higher ranking number than I, Nocturne," Zexion says. "He will never listen to someone as young as I. He never has. Never will."

"His loss." he murmurs, trying to be consoling, although Zexion sounds matter-of-fact about it...like everything. "If- If Lexaeus were still here, do you think then maybe-?"

The mention of his friend's name is enough to make him pause, a hand clenching briefly on his own coat sleeve. "...maybe. Lexaeus, at least, would have been able to convince him of other possibilities."

 Watching him carefully, he leans his arms forward on his knees, reminding the schemer gently, with an almost pitying urge to reach over and make some bigger show of sympathy, but he gets the impression that Zexion really isn't so hot on affectionate touching.  "...There are still lots of other possibilties, besides Lexaeus."

 He stares carefully forward, refusing to look at Demyx for several moments. Then he closes his eyes, swallows, and looks at him. "You can never replace something that has been written in your heart willingly. You cannot fill that void with something else once it's gone."

 "I'm not saying replace." Demyx shrugs slightly. "It'll never be a perfect fit, of course...those are big shoes to fill." Its moved away from Vexen too easily, and the musician's much better at talking about this stuff than power and sides...those things make him nervous. Now the heart...the nocturne knows that maybe a little better than scientists. "But I don't think he'd want you here alone and...seeming sad so much, and not....at least...considering other possibilties."

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