sirenspull | Tenth Journey // Video - Backdated to earlier today

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Tenth Journey // Video - Backdated to earlier today

[You're very tall today, Siren's Port. Or rather, Sora's in a place high enough that we should all watch our step or risk a very, very long fall. Sora's rather at home at the edge of the rooftop though, and the NV's steady where it's been set. Sora's busy chewing on his pencil's eraser, pondering what to write.]

I've been thinking. We've all got things we regret. We beat ourselves up, even if there's nothing we can do about it.

[Sora's pencil takes to the paper, scrawling out his thoughts.]

'If I could just go back in time, maybe I could fix it. If I could do it all over again, I'd really change things! Make it all better.'

Right?

[He finishes decisively. Then... turns it over, folding it lengthwise. Corners down, foldback the edges and... there. One completed paper airplane, wings branded with Sora's distinctive handwriting.]

The other day, a really brave friend taught me something important. Me and my friends, we've been in some pretty scary places. When you're lost in the darkness, it can get really hard to find the light.

[He pushes up off the ground with a small bounce an stands upright on his own two feet.]

But it's always there-- you just gotta look for it. I mean, if things never happened the way they did, who knows where or even who we'd be. I'm me because of the good and the bad. Mistakes and all. I'm me because of my memories, and the people I've met along the way. Including everybody here in the Port.

It's not easy letting go. Sometimes it takes forever. But one thing I know that really helps... [One flick of his hand sends the paper airplane flying off the edge. Sora shields his eyes from the sun and stands right at the edge, watching as the wind sweeps it up and takes it on a spiralling path out of sight.

Feels good.]

... is having a somebody who'll hear you out.

So how about it?

Ever look back? Or wish you could do something all over again?

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[Vanitas turns, casual as you please, lifting his head from reading the diary to meet Sora's gaze.]

What are you willing to give up for it?

[He very nearly says 'anything,' but that's not true. He's not willing to help Vanitas hurt any of his friends. In any case, he doesn't even know what Vanitas would go for. The last thing he wanted was the χ-blade and that went south. Who even knows what Vanitas wants these days.]

I don't know. [He's thinking as he says this. Then remembers his time in Vanitas' body. Maybe...]

Wait a second.

What about sleep?

[... Sora. that's almost enough to throw him off from his original intention - almost being the keyword here; Vanitas is looking for something very specific, and Sora isn't getting the diary back until he gets the information he wants.]

[still, satisfying his curiosity in how in the World Sora's brain works is hard to resist.]

How do you intend to give me sleep?

It's a spell! I know it's not easy for you at night, so... I could teach it to you.

[He's not about to say Roxas is the one who knows it. He'll have to learn the mechanics himself if the deal takes.]

It worked just fine on me when I was you, so it'll probably work the same way now.

[Ventus favors that spell, actually, now that he thinks about it - Vanitas has been on the receiving end on it more than once.]

[look at him considering this offer. considering... considering... considering...]

[nope]

I'm going to need a much better offer than that.

[No deal. But he's still at a loss.]

What is it that you want?

[Because he's prepared to give quite a bit to get that back.]

Information.

[thanks to a very obnoxious spell last month, Sora is probably very familiar with producing Unversed, and the advantage to having extensions of oneself anywhere at any time - the second that negativity is eliminated and returns to him, it's almost as if Vanitas himself were physically there, knowing and seeing what an Unversed saw.]

[the same could be applied to Unversed born from negativity not his own, though to a lesser extent. without warning, Vanitas steps forward, a hand raised, his expression flat. Sora might feel something like a painful tugging at his chest, like something's trying to drag him forward, to draw and pull out every twinge of an unpleasant feeling he might have felt recently, at one time or the other.]

What- [Having been in Vanitas' shoes, he knows more acutely than anyone what that means. Unfortunately, he doesn't realize the other's intentions until he feels the beginnings of the pull. It's sudden and abrupt, a tug that has him physically reacting, yanking him forward on his feet.

The diary invokes more than just sadness; it represents a whole host of feelings, all brought to light the moment he realized it was taken from his care. It's sorrow over what's written in its pages, uncertainty over him and and the diary's owner, memories of helplessness, and guilt for not being able to keep something so important safe. It represents a deep well of feelings that Vanitas helps himself to without a moment's hesitation.

He's on his knees before he knows it, arms crossed over his chest like he's trying to hold himself together. He feels like the wind has been knocked out of him, aching like something is missing.]

What're you...

[he doesn't stop when a swirl of darkness that amasses and forms into one familiar monster. the second it seems like relief might be finally found, Vanitas is drawing another one into existence. and another. and another.]

[until finally, now that he's surrounded by wild bruisers and mandrakes and hare raisers, a medium sized purple one unfurls in his outstretched hands, and he.... quirks an eyebrow.]

[Vanitas is relentless, prying one Unversed after another from Sora until he pitches forward onto the pavement. He can scarcely breathe, beset by once lancing pain after another, heart doing it's best to convince his body it's being ripped wide open.

What he feels now are just echoes, but they ache right down to his core. He might've dipped in and out of consciousness, he doesn't know. It's finally stopped, but Sora can doesn't look up to see what's caused the other confusion. He's concentrating on taking a few ragged breaths.]

[what Vanitas really wants to know, what he really wants to gain out of this is why. what business does one very unrefined, not even properly trained kid like Sora have wielding a Keyblade - not only wielding a Keyblade, but so thoroughly affecting almost everyone he comes into contact with?]

[Sora is the beginning of a fairly long line of people who have no right wielding the weapon, as far as he's concerned. a wielder is chosen by a previous master, not subject to chance, to a random bout of fate. they are the result of years of training, of perfecting tactics and finesse. grabbing a Keyblade and improvising is downright insulting to the purpose of the blade to begin with.]

[and, perhaps unsurprisingly enough, the dots and lines of nearly all of those in that line of pathetic, undeserving people somehow lead right back to Sora. but why?]

[what is it about Sora that latched on to Ventus all those years ago, and what is it that second-handedly affected him?]

[there are plenty of wayward emotions standing around him, all of them familiar to himself - emotions Vanitas has probably felt himself one way or the other - but none of them are quite as intriguing as the Unversed currently trying to escape his own grip. there's no better place to start in finding the answers he wants than with that one single creature.]

[he bends down to the ground, placing the Prize Pod flat on the grass, his boot placed firmly on the black wings at the top of the Unversed so it can't escape. Void Gear slaps into his hand with that familiar clinking sound of a Keyblade summoning. he twists the blade in his grip, raising it so it is pointed straight down at what he assumes will be the answers he's about to absorb back into himself, and drives the sharpened edge right between the eyes of the Prize Pod.]

[and with the burst of darkness that unfolds, and with the lasts wisps that are absorbed back into his body, in his mind, Vanitas suddenly thinks he sees the interior of a castle. he suddenly catches wind of overwhelming worry, of something akin to surprise and a sudden, vague understanding ("Kairi's inside me?").]

[he senses determination. he senses finality ("you'll never take Kairi's heart!"). like watching someone within a dream, he sees Sora aim a weapon toward himself, marching stupidly toward his own demise. he senses irrationality. he smells darkness, he can see Sora staring death straight in the face, completely unafraid.]

[and just like that, it's suddenly gone, an emotion that's nothing more than a hollow echo.]

Edited 2012-09-12 04:11 (UTC)

[of course. Vanitas has his answer, and he hates it so much in its simplicity and in its simply being, he wants to spit.]

[love. friendship. that's it. nothing more.]

[he stands, leaving the other Unversed behind momentarily, and steps closer to Sora's form still lying on the ground. he bends down again, directly in front of Sora, waiting for that stupid embodiment of everything Vanitas has grown to hate as a being of pure darkness to recompose himself, and to look up at him.]

Edited 2012-09-12 02:03 (UTC)

[Given the choice, he'd much rather lie there for a while. Couple hours maybe. Vanitas stepping into his vision eliminates that right quick. He gets his hands planted on the ground with a grimace, uses his elbows for just enough leverage to lift his head. And then after a moment, turns to look up at Vanitas.

He's still in one piece, but he's in a bad place. He knows he is, and isn't in any condition to do anything about it. He needs to get up, he needs to summon the keyblade, he needs to get himself out of this mess. In spite of everything, once he's got the capacity to cobble together any semblance of thought, his mind eventually gravitates to one thing.

He'd seen it. It was right there. The thing he's been agonizing over for weeks, that Roxas had entrusted to him to keep.

It isn't just a book. It's more than that. And he can't leave without it.

Vanitas will get little more than murmur with the same single-mindedness that's brought him here.]

Diary... where is...?

[Vanitas shouldn't be surprised that the first words out of Sora's mouth aren't anything at all about the danger he might be in. no, of course he'd care less about himself and more about how much he cares about his friends.]

[of course it would be the exact same thing he'd just felt himself, absorbing that Prize Pod back into himself, and the exact same thing that disgusted Vanitas so much to begin with. of course.]

[without warning, his expression contorts into something akin to fury, and he reels a fist back, aiming to slam it right across Sora's face.]

[Sora's head whips downwards with a soft noise of distress. It's another ripple in a sea of agony, but this feels different from everything else. More real. He won't feel the worst of that until later when his cheek swells up, but it's enough to make sure Sora doesn't lift his head again after that.]

[no, Sora doesn't get the luxury of hiding his face in searing pain, Vanitas isn't done expressing his disgust yet. he reaches a hand out and shoves harshly at Sora's shoulder, intending to roll him over, to force him to look up at Vanitas as he looms overhead.]

[Vanitas should kill him. he should wipe that pathetic sense of love and caring right off the face of the island - and judging by the way he's suddenly, again, bent right over Sora, a knee pressing harshly into his shoulder to keep him from moving, and holding Void Gear over his throat much like he'd been holding it over that Prize Pod earlier, he might actually be considering it.]

[he may share the same face as Sora, but he would much rather keep the face than he would the complete lack of self-preservation in certain situations. no, if he ended things now, he'd probably be ended himself just as quickly.]

Why do your friends mean so much to you, Sora? Why would you give up everything for them? [idiot. though that last word is merely implied in the undertone of his voice.]

[It's funny; No one's ever asked him before. It's so much of what drives Sora to do what he does, the core of what makes Sora Sora. Part of him might even feel sorry for Vanitas, that something as important as friendship eludes him. He doesn't understand.]

[Speaking is no easy task when each breath alone is a miserable, concentrated effort... But the answer is so clear to Sora.]

That's ... what friends do. They'd do the same for me. Even if it's crazy... or dangerous or stupid. If you can keep the people you care about from hurting. If you can keep them safe. You do whatever it takes.

[What strength he and his friends have isn't from the keyblade, or from any weapon. It's from each other.] My friends-- they're the reason I'm strong. They're my power.

[he had been expecting that answer, of course... Ventus had said the same words to him in some far-off memory in the back of his mind.]

[what Vanitas wasn't expecting was the force behind those words, to be the one bearing down with the gravity of death and one's own tenuous grasp on existence, to only be pushed back and tossed aside like a discarded note. this is the one thing Vantias treasures the most, and Sora is willing to throw away completely — and for someone else, no less.]

[it's not quite that Vanitas doesn't understand. it's sort of hard not to have some sort of understanding, when he's connected by cosmic threads to a kid — several kids — who embody what it means to have positive emotions. being the sort of creature he is, he's simply not capable of feeling it. no love. no friendship. no family. not even a passing fondness for the idiots who decide to put up with his presence.]

[no. logically, there's nothing on that spectrum of emotion that he is capable of experiencing. but maybe, just maybe, there's a tiny part of this half of Ventus who still remembers what it's like to have a family, to love and cherish every single moment spent with them. content. joy, even.]

[and maybe there's an even smaller part still who desperately misses it.]

[Vanitas recoils, as if Sora is the one throwing punches in this fight, a sudden, unbearable loneliness unleashed within him. several miles away, a group of Hareraisers tear through the air from darkness and sprawl across the ground, wracked with grief.]

[Vanitas himself is expressionless as he stands, almost unbalanced, his mouth drawn into a thin line and his features darkened. he can't bring himself to make direct eye contact with Sora again. he immediately turns away, his gaze focused on some point past the empty sort of city they'd called home for so many months. the silence seems to drag on, in his mind, for hours.]

[there's a dull thud as he drops the diary at Sora's feet, as if Vanitas suddenly no longer cares that he'd spent the last near-month lording over Sora and his many doubles with it. he probably doesn't.]

[what does he do now? Vanitas spares a sideways glance in Sora's direction, and, for a half-second, he looks utterly stricken. it's gone almost as soon as it manifested, as much so as that brief look at Sora did, and he finally turns his full back on Sora. and he walks away.]

[people like Vanitas don't deserve a chance to do it over again. maybe he'll get one. maybe Sora will happen across him in a dream one day.]

[otherwise, Vanitas is alone.]

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Tenth Journey // Video - Backdated to earlier today

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[Action] Is that a no?

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[Action] I'll trade my Blue Eyes White Dragon for your girly diary

[Action] Sorry, I just really needed to finish this