dear_mun | on looking for certain castmates @ sirenspull

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on looking for certain castmates @ sirenspull

Pining again, are we?

I come on here, ramble vaguely about how nice it would be to have the "old guard" together again, and you sit there, all a-quiver, with anticipation -- you know it doesn't really work like that, right?

Numbers III, IV, V, and VI -- you'd have better luck pulling an ingrown toenail then getting us all together.

I do have to hand it to ya, though, kiddo: it is a very nice thought.

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[ completely. ]

That dog, then, must be disciplined — or else, it must die.

Already done, dude.

[ But it shouldn't have happened at all. ]

The things I miss-

[Interruptions from the basement peanut gallery, because this is the most appealing news to hear from Xigbar in some time.]

So he is no longer our of number?

Life goes on, Mr. Zexion.

[ A moment of weighted silence. ]

Ain't it a cryin' shame?

[ Said with little irony. But no, in all seriousness, he's had his fill of the Seventh, and if he tries to stick his nose where it doesn't belong again, the Second will do worse than he already has.

Dogs have no place amongst the superiors, isn't that right? ]

Dreadful. It's only a shame that traitors yet walk among our Organization.

You know what they say, Mr. Zexion.

A weed-whacker's job is never really done.

Especially when he's skiving duty.

[ Really, Zexion? He tsks. ]

Still sour about that, are we?

You turn your back but a moment, and just look at all the mess that upstarts are capable of.

One would think that a lesson we'd already learned.

Did you know, Mr. Zexion, that the sun rises in the east?

Yet replacing the secretary merited a mention. There must be more to this tale.

So. Just what did he do?

Exactly was I said, Mr. Zexion.

[ Again, that hint of profound, if not violent displeasure. ]

Rabid dogs don't usually just aim for the hand.

[The repetition is earning a roll of his eyes this time- 'Mr. Zexion' is a stale joke that truly needs to be let go.]

And here I always suspected he'd lunge for throat, at the right chance.

But you seem particularly put off about it. Did it catch you off guard?

Is that the real reason you're calling for reinforcements?

[ It's a habit, that nickname, so he doesn't give it much thought when he uses it, But this issue -- it has him piqued, stirred up in ways he hasn't been for many a long year. Why and how when he has no heart to speak of isn't really the point; it's extraneous and has no bearing on the situation as it is which he finds increasingly unworkable.

That it was Saix, of all beings, to actually land a killing blow -- the attempt was no surprise, but the actual success, he still cannot fathom -- so yes, that's part of it, but he's already taken his token vengeance for whatever that may before worth. That Xemnas couldn't apparently save himself from someone who was undoubtedly his inferior also grates, in no small amount. But more than that, it's the sense of having the world pulled out of under him, the foundation upon which he's stood for more than a decade ripped to shreds simply due to chance, a singular even that never should have been. It's a hard pill to swallow, especially after all his plans, everything he worked towards with Xehanort (before and after amnesia struck) left all of them in shambles.

It's a difficult thing, less so without the weight of a heart in his chest, but logically, on the level of thought where reason and cognizance are born, he finds maybe he is getting too old for this. Maybe he does need reinforcements, as Zexion so delicately put it.

He could deny it, of course, swear up and down that he has everything under control. But does he really? Has he ever?

It couldn't help that much, even with all of them assembled. Just more machinations and intrigue, as they were always wont to do.

Still. He gives the question the consideration it's due, and when he does answer, it's with a pointed lack of flippancy. ]

You tell me.

I suspect...

[His eyes narrow shrewdly, because he hasn't seen Xigbar this agitated in years. Not even when the diviner was ascending in right hand responsibilities, to the point where several of the newer membership might question why Xigbar was still ranked the Superior's second-in-command at all.

So it can't be Saix alone, to have rubbed him the wrong way.

Zexion counts down quietly from six, on his hands, echoing the call for VI, V, IV, III... The final two remain. He taps his thumbs together in a longer deliberation.]

That you are beginning to doubt that you can handle him, all on your own.

[ Always on point. That was the Schemer, the little genius turned illusionist and manipulator. It's not actually comfortable, being called out on the fact that he isn't enough, that his capacity to keep everything in order without real support is less than adequate. Demyx and Luxord, for all they are good for play, can't really fathom and see the way the missing numbers, the once-apprentices could. They can't be trusted either, Axel especially, and Saix isn't due much more than scorn and a bullet between the eyes.

And then there's Xemnas, the first of the Nobodies, the once-Superior of the In-Between. His journey from his point of origin to this is something he can't actually trace. From the Master to the Apprentice to the Nobody, yes -- but what of after? That world he's spoken of from time to time, a curious place with a heart at its center? He can't know all that happened there, not without asking, and that's unlikely to happen.

So what? What can he do that he hasn't already done? How can he keep the Superior focused, on target instead of tangential?

A quandary if there ever was one.

Finally: ]

He shouldn't need me to hold his hand.

[ They're old enough now, they've seen enough worlds, times, and places, experienced things no one with decency ever, ever should, and yet there is this issue. It's not the same as lofty speeches or pining for a faraway moon -- it's a lack of vision, one he thinks has lent itself to such reckless, if not lackadaisical behavior. But how to amend it?

He still has no answer. ]

He doesn't need you.

[A bland observation, coupled with a quiet scoff, because Xemnas needs everything and nothing, all and no one, with so many individuals wafting like meaningless matter in-between.

He could have managed it all alone, probably, without extending the invitation to the rest.

Zexion shakes his head, because that isn't quite the point. It isn't just the problem that Xemnas poses unto himself, and for that-]

But you should keep him in range, all the same.

[Maybe Xigbar has always toed just close enough to the very lip of chaos to know him best, but that doesn't mean that he can afford to let the Superior slip out of his sights. A true watchdog for the Organization.]

And as for the mongrel, good riddance.

[ Of course. To imply that Xemnas, the first and foremost and strongest of them all would actually need him is not only arrogant but presumptuous, in more ways than one. Not that he doesn't have an ego -- he does, and it's actually quite healthy in size. He just doesn't flaunt it or have the need to over-compensate. He's good, and he knows it, his experience stretching even beyond what they all discovered in those early days of research. He knows things, secrets that are his alone to bear, and as much as Zexion's comment rings true, it also rings utterly false.

Xemnas is Xemnas; that much is true. He made himself their lord and commanded from on high, his reasoning kept secret, known only to himself. And yet, he thinks of Ansem, that foolish king who thought himself so wise. He surrounded himself with vipers, not knowing the day they would strike.

A king must have vassals, but even those can't always be trusted. And so it begs the question- what good is a king without his watchdog, faithful and unwavering where others cannot be? And how much use is said watchdog without the one he guards?

A hint of a smile turns the corner of his mouth, sharp and secretive, his teeth just barely showing. ]

X marks the spot, Mr. Zexion.

[ He knows how to handle "mongrels". And as for the rest...well. ]

We'll stay the course.

[Zexion looks a little less than entirely convinced by Xigbar's sharp smiles. A little too much teeth in the knowing, and there's something yet he's covering up. Always something, the dangle out of reach.

He resigns himself to sigh and settle duly for some hope of satisfying news.]

And what, pray tell, has been chartered to steer the wayward Organization back on course?

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on looking for certain castmates @ sirenspull

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