milliways_bar

Entry tags:

EP

Days in Castle Oblivion have a tendency toward the featureless. Vexen's view rarely changes; if he emerges from the stark and sterile world of his laboratory, it is to wander the stark and sterile halls of the upper levels, or at other times the darker but similarly repetitive - if convoluted - hallways of the basements. The neophytes rarely visit the realm that the Chilly Academic calls his domain, and he does his best to avoid theirs when at all possible.

Mixing the neophytes with the founding members of Organization XIII has been, in Vexen's experience, not dissimilar to dropping a chunk of pure caesium into a bowl of water with the lights off.

But aside from the occasional explosion, run-ins with the neophytes, and visits from his Superior, Vexen's non-existence is relatively quite and undisturbed. He's left to his own devices and spends his days in blessed quiet and solitude.

It's no wonder that when he steps into the bar, he looks... surprised, to say the least. It's crowded, it's far darker than he's used to, it's loud, and it's warm. All things that are immediate strikes against the place in the Academic's book. But in the past decade, he's seen stranger things and been to far more unusual worlds.

Which means that he's pulled his mantle of unflappability back around him within short order as he presses further into this strange new 'world', or whatever it is.

A scientist must never turn away from an opportunity for the acquisition of new knowledge.

[OOC: Mun has to leave at 12:30AM MST, but feel free to tag and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. X3)

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She can't not notice the resemblance. And just as much as she can't ignore that, Kida really can't not get up to investigate further. She can be curious, when she wants.

"Are you new?"

The voice, of course, gets his attention. Because it's directed at him, of course, but more than that, it's familiar. It's one he hasn't heard in decades, centuries, the blink of an eye to most Atlanteans but an eternity to a man severed abruptly from all he had known for nearly ten millennia.

When he turns around, he actually looks astonished. The expression is exaggerated, as all of his are, but it's not displeased. And while his attire and hair may have changed, the green eyes haven't.

Then muscle memory kicks in. Vexen, more than some of the other Nobodies, has clung to the memories of who he was and where he came from. The memories are all he really has; after losing his heart, he'd withdrawn from the others. Or perhaps it was the other way around, but whatever the case, those memories were the closest company he kept.

He kneels, head bowed slightly. The crystal around Kida's neck makes the markings on his face, hidden for so many years, flare back to life, bright blue and vivid. There's a new one above his right eye, but other than that they're unchanged.

'Princess,' he says quietly in Atlantean.

"Even," she breathes, watching him kneel, the markings light up. "It's been millennia..." Kida of course wonders where he went, where he is now, to have changed so much, but she can hardly give the questions voice.

She crouches down where he's knelt, taking in those depthless green eyes. They had always been so pretty, so different. "What happened?"

The question gives Vexen pause, even more than the name. He hasn't been called that in ten years, but that's nothing compared to the prospect of having to explain his folly and the consequences. The Organization knows, of course, but many have been through something similar. The rest are told during the course of their indoctrination.

'A... great deal, Princess,' he replies carefully. 'Life moves apace, away from our homeland.'

He's not so very different physically - the hair, certainly, but he hasn't aged much and his build is the same - but there is something different about him. The way he carries himself, his responses and reactions, the chill radiating off his body. He's trying to suppress it, though. It's unlikely that he'll extend the same courtesy to anyone else, but for his princess he'll extend the effort.

"Will you tell me? Call me Kida, Even. Like you used to."

She doesn't know his name has changed, but she can feel the difference of everything else, even the chill. "You left. A long time ago..."

Hearing that name is still strange, but he hasn't forgotten how to respond to it. Vexen nods his head, though he hasn't moved from his kneeling position.

'I am not certain whether that would be wise, Kida. Perhaps I can, in time, but I would need to figure out how to tell you, before I could do that. Though if you wish, I will try to explain what I can.'

It remains to be seen whether he'll mention the change prior to enlightening her about what happened (the whole truth of it, anyway), whenever he finds a convenient excuse to do so. He can't feel guilt over withholding the information, of course, he can't feel anything, but he can pretend like he does very well.

'A very long time ago. Though, I believe that the proper term is 'exiled', not 'left'.' It had not been his decision, after all. It had been his punishment for seeking the truth. 'Whatever the case, I do not think that I would be welcomed back. Your father would not stand for it, and my father has enough sway with the Council to get them to uphold his decision.'

"Atlantis is...different, now." The lights were starting to fade, the city was crumbling in front of their eyes. "It isn't the same as when you were there."

Seeing her old friend, after so very long, is...confusing. She hadn't ever forgotten him completely, of course, but it had been millennia since they'd last even seen each other. "Have you never come here before, Even? It's...it's so different, here, in this little universe. There are all kinds of creatures. And people, from hundreds of centuries after us. You were always the one searching for knowledge."

It was never glorious when Even had lived there, but he had seen it deteriorate. The idea that it's fallen even further would be upsetting, if Vexen could experience that. As it is, he reacts as if the idea saddens him.

'Then we have fallen even further? It was bad enough when I left; what else has happened, in the meantime?'

It's confusing for Vexen, too, because that's a state of mind rather than an emotion. 'No, never here. But I have noted that the population is quite diverse.' He shakes his head. 'I have found much knowledge since I left, things that I am uncertain whether or not our people ever knew before. But the worlds that I have seen do not have this sort of... cultural mix to them.' It's one culture per world. Atlantica, Agrabah, Deep Jungle. Only places like Twilight Town have any real diversity.

"The lights have dimmed, some are going out entirely. Father refuses to try anything to restore them."

That, insofar as it could be said, was true. Her father could be stubborn; he was the King. It was what had always worked, why change it unnecessarily? "No one can read the old papers anymore. The glyphs on the stones? They're lost now." She'd not gotten so far as to know them before the Mebelmok, and certainly not after...

'That surprises me very little. Your father has hidden much from his people. That is not a good stance for a ruler to take.' Advice that Xemnas could use, too, really. And Vexen firmly believes that his exile was on account of his inquisitiveness and yearning to recover the glories of the past, a quest that while noble, would probably bring him too close to the truth of what Kida's father had done.

It was not the gods who had cursed Atlantis, but her King's folly. He'd tried to use the city's life-force as a weapon, and had brought ruin to his people. And then, instead of admitting to his mistake and working to correct it, he had hidden it under the guise of traditions and things working as they were.

'Has he even considered permitting study of what was lost? I can understand that those who could once read have forgotten how, but surely it would come back to them with effort.'

"No, he hasn't. He is...unrelenting. Even more so, since Mother is dead."

It's obvious Kida doesn't know the extent to which her father is at fault for the city's fate, and her own mother's. And eventually, what will be her own.

"Even...we will be lost, if nothing changes. You know that as well as I do. We must change to survive."

'Yes, we must. But you have seen what happens to people who try to change, Kida. They are ostracized, and finally banished for trying to do what is considered subversive and undesirable. That will not change, unless you can convince your father to do so.'

See exhibit A, one Chilly Academic, the physical remnants of a kind and generous man who'd wanted nothing more than to learn how to bring his people the life they had once known. That was part of what had driven him, aside from an insatiable quest for knowledge. There were reasons he'd been so interested in memories, instead of just the chemistry and biotechnical engineering and computer programming.

'I have... other obligations,' he says carefully, 'but I will do what I can to help you.'

He can't care, but he can remember.

"I never wanted you exiled. I tried to make him...reconsider, but he would never tell me why he wanted you gone," she murmurs. She'd never been told, and couldn't find out what had happened, and that, for years, had made her into the person she was. A warrior, who fiercely protected what was hers against everything else.

She hadn't quite been able to do that with Even; at the time Kida had no idea what he was trying to do. "You look so different now..."

If Vexen possessed the capacity to be touched, he certainly would be. As it is, he'll be glad when he does have one and thinks back on this. He's never really figured out whether Nobodies can have friends, or simply form bonds of convenience; he suspects the latter, since friendship implies emotional attachment.

Kida seems to come close, though. He has no reasons to be civil or expend energy on artificial emotional responses save for Even's memories, but those seem to be enough for now. He's certainly never considered plundering his homeworld and her people for his test subjects.

'I know you would not have,' he replies. 'You had no reason to, and as determined as I remember you, you were not a cruel or unnecessarily vindictive person.' Harsh when she had to be, but never wantonly unkind.

'And circumstance, if not the relatively short time I've been gone, tends to precipitate change,' he says with a wry, humourless little smile. Just a quirk of his lips, nothing of it reaching his eyes. 'But I like to fancy that life has not been too unkind, after that fashion.' Scars and hair styled for convenience, but nothing too drastic.

"I remember you being warmer," she says softly, on a little sigh. It's...confusing, that she can't remember much of when Even had left.

"I've missed you, these past few years."

'And I you,' he replies. That at least is the truth, save for the past decade. Even had missed everyone, but especially his family and friends.

And still he'd followed Xehanort willingly into the darkness, knowing that losing them might be the price of the knowledge that he sought so desperately. He'd had a genuine curiosity by also, he realises now, something to prove, even unconsciously. He looks up at Kida from his kneeling position, and shrugs.

'I was warmer,' he agrees. 'My work has necessitated that I embrace certain things I might not otherwise. And of course, to gain something one must sacrifice something else.' Not the whole truth, but not a lie. It's enough for now.

"Come sit with me," she says, noticing he is still kneeling. "Your skin is like Damian's, now; his is cold, unless he has just fed."

Unthinkingly she rubs a hand over the side of her neck, where he'd bitten, but the small mark has already healed over, and there is no scar. "If you would like I have a room you may rest in. It is like home."

Vexen manages a wan smile, but obediently rises and takes a seat next to Kida. At least she seems used to the idea of abnormally cold humanoids, though nothing but touch by someone warmer can drive the chill out of the Academic's skin, and then only for a few moments.

Her offer is tempting, more than he thought it would be. He hasn't seen anything Atlantean in centuries, save ruins on the surface and what Even took with him.

'I do not require much rest these days,' he says carefully, 'but I do find myself thinking of home. It would be good to see that which would remind me of it. Perhaps we may speak there, and you can tell me more of what I may do to help you.'

She smiles, and leads him up to her room, padding up the stairs on silent feet. (http://of-atlantis.livejournal.com/920.html)

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