voidtreckerexpress | [closed] there's a beast

[closed] there's a beast

Who: Xehanort, Ansem
Where: Car corridors
When: Postmission
What: [A brief summary of your post.]
Warnings: Mentions of a previous log.

It wasn't that he was looking for him. Or- hadn't been, either. As much as Ansem knew beyond a doubt that he owed Xehanort many things - chief of which an apology - life on this train had a habit of getting away from oneself. Add the most recent events of living an entirely different life...

Ansem had a lot on his mind as he moved through the corridors of the train. Most of these thoughts, however, fled at the sight of a familiar white-haired figure exiting a room. But, quick to regain himself, the King cleared his throat-

"Xehanort- a moment?" A beat of silence, and then- "Please."

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Originally he had planned on staying in the gym car all night with everyone else, but ... plans change. And so it's slow progress back towards the sleeper cars, one hand on the wall for steadying - there's no shame in the weakness of exhaustion, over half the train suffered the same problem.

But he stops as soon as he spots Ansem and indeed seems intending to turn and leave or duck into the nearest entrance or something, except the King speaks, and he waits as bidden.

"Of course, Master. What can I do for you?" A flicker of a pause before he continues, "Though if it's strenuous, please give me a day or so first." He could, perhaps, contend with a jar of pickles. Anything else was questionable.

"Hardly." Or at least, hardly for Xehanort - or so he hopes. But he notices that pause, and forces it to steel his resolve as he tilts his head just slightly.

"I owe you an apology, among other things." But he would start with the simplest; "I wronged you, and for that, I am deeply sorry. Words cannot begin to mend the damage I caused, but I offer them nonetheless."

Admission of error; recognition of guilt. Simple things, really, but heavy nonetheless.

"Ah, good." Though his efforts to avoid all of those who's lives he'd ruined hasn't gone as well as he'd hoped, he intended to continue as soon as he could.

And then an apology, for what he didn't have to guess.

Xehanort doesn't let go of the wall, but his free hand does rise to rub the bridge of his nose slowly, eyes closed. "Master Ansem," he begins carefully, "While it's clear you feel ... misplaced guilt for .. our previous meeting.. It is misplaced." The more he learns, the more he suffers, the clearer that's becoming to him. "But if it will ease your heart, then I accept your apology and beg you to put it aside and think of it no more."

"It is not misplaced." Quiet, but firm. "It has become very clear to me that a change in circumstances can make one behave very, very differently - and go down roads once unimagined. I did not stop to consider this, before." It's as much proved by himself as Xehanort before him.

"If you wish to set my heart at ease, then understand that I owe you recompense for not allowing you even the slightest of chances before condemning you. You may have no desire to make use of it, but I owe it to you nonetheless."

He didn't know it was already likely much too late for any such Pollyanna idealism. Couldn't know, for who had Xehanort told? Who would he ever tell?

Xehanort's painfully tempted to argue it. To point out in excruciating detail the logic of the original course and the rampant foolishness of the new one, but ...

But what would it cost, really, to allow his Master his chosen delusions? Apparently at some point in the future he'd become quite good at such facades, starting practice now would at least let him work on it in a controlled environment. "A king must weigh not only the most hopeful of dreams, but the worst possible outcome, and while wishing for the former, prepare for the latter."

His voice is quiet; even in these hallways it won't carry far. "As my king I can't deny you the right to take what action you deem fit. But as for me, I consider there to be nothing owed to me, such a potential debt has long since been paid."

By virtue of opening world and home without hesitation. Though Xehanort couldn't, wouldn't ever return if he had a choice in the matter, he would not forget willingly the kindness they'd all offered to an amnesiac foundling.

"This is true. But there were other ways than ones as drastic as my own. If nothing else, this will serve as a stern lesson to my heart."

He lets out a heavy breath, shaking his head.

"I will not trouble you further- but I will ask that should anyone else ever trouble you on these matters, to direct them to me. In my eyes, you are fully exonerated of any wrongdoing another man bearing your name may have committed."

For all appearances, Xehanort has relented. There's no counter-argument, no attempting to remind him that all worlds were in danger, not simply Radiant Garden. That far more than Ansem and his people have been hurt, and thus Ansem's judgment was over-reaching at best, and the danger should be kept far more in mind given how he felt recently about others..

But he does no such thing. He merely inclines his head slightly in acknowledgment.

Not a soul will be pointed at Ansem, how could he prove himself to himself if he simply told everyone to go bother some random monarch they held no loyalty to? And with Demyx's accusation only minutes in the past-- "Don't you think," and his tone changes, deliberately, purposefully, towards something more impish. "I should be working on not hiding behind my master's labcoat? Fear not, I don't intend to be anyone's easy victim. If you'd like, you can think of it as a courtesy afforded only you. The rest have to wait."

For him to simply give in and accept someone else's judgment, at least.

Edited 2021-07-29 21:07 (UTC)

That's a bit of a bitter look in Ansem's face as the 'courtesy' is mentioned. Nonetheless, he seems to be relaxing...slowly. "A master has a responsibility to protect their apprentices, as does a king to their people." Which confirms that, at least in some way, Xehanort is still considered one of Ansem's own. "Nonetheless, should you find yourself in need of assistance, all you need is to call my name and I will find you."

Not out of obligation. But because he dearly wants to see what Xehanort can become, given the chance. Is that selfish, he has wondered?

"I am aware that you are capable of holding your own. But you need not stand alone, Xehanort."

"If it brings you any peace of mind at all, I do not think I will ever need to stand alone.. even should the very worst fall." There would be more animation, gestures to go with words, but weariness chewed away at all of that relentlessly. It wasn't about to ease up now.

He seriously hoped someone put leftovers aside in the kitchens. They weren't going to last long. "And not through whatever manipulations led others to follow me before." Of all the things he informs Ansem of, is this the right one?

Would it simply be seen as a brush-off, taken as a declaration that he has somewhere else to go and didn't need them? "I have ... a fair bit of evidence that suggests I have found my kind. And the terrible actions that have led to such ... unspeakable results don't seem at all unexpected."

To that, an arched brow. "Your kind- those from before you came to Radiant Garden?" Ansem hardly seems worried- if anything, he seems faintly enthused about the concept. If it was possible anywhere, then...this train, certainly, with its nature and behavior, could certainly be that place.

There's a short nod. "Of which I am apparently considered very young. I believe you spoke to the other representative onboard a while back.. a man of middling height and brown hair named Elidibus."

Which possibly explains the interrogation Ansem was put through. "He ... like myself, is not what he appears to be, but I do not think he means specific harm to anyone at all. Unfortunately no one soul can know everyone of their own world, so the specifics of nigh anything else than a world of origin and a species remains clouded in mystery." He'd be more enthusiastic under other settings, it was at least, a start. "Along with new mysteries to go with it."

There is a brief, wan smile that seems more bitterly amused than genuinely pleased. "He assures me he could put a stop to my efforts now that he is aware of them, should I attempt to drop another world into the realm of Darkness; for he claims to have done so many times before."

"Elidibus." There's a flicker of - something - in Ansem's gaze. Not quite wariness, not quite warmth. For while his encounter with the man was strange, he could not outright say it was a poor one. Yes, he was judged by an outsider who had no right to work in such things, and there were faint threats had Ansem not cooperated - but also, given the circumstances, and this new knowledge?

It is something to further reflect upon. Nonetheless...

"You know him better than I; I will trust your judgement." And speak with him once more, to clarify what intentions he can. But Ansem does clearly put stock in the other's words...and his faint smile affirms the following. "And I will admit that I am glad that you have found someone with whom you have this kinship. Would you call him a friend?"

"No." The answer is so immediate that it might be a red flag, except that he holds up his free hand a moment later as if to stop any continuation before he can explain. "Elidibus is ... unfathomably ancient. To other Ascians, I am .. I am a child. A clever one, yes, but still very young and ignorant. You might be fond of a child, should a four or five year old be brought before you, and indeed be friendly! But to call that child a true friend is.. overstepping, perhaps."

"But I believe I may trust him." Was that enough? Enough for him, anyway.

It does prompt an arched brow, though any concern Ansem had seems to fade at the explanation. An Ascian...Ansem's memory may have returned to him over time, but that word holds no meaning in his mind. Something else he is yet to remember, or another reason entirely? But...he nods, accepting he words.

"Another mentor, then." Something in Ansem wonders if he has been replaced, but- no. Xehanort shows no sign of wanting to hurry this conversation along so he can excuse himself, but even if he had, it is warranted. And yet, something else whispers to be on guard. But this is not his place to insist on wariness, certainly not after his own behavior. "So long as you trust him, I am content. And if he is confident he can help you master yourself, where I once failed...I would be grateful to him, indeed."

He's moved on from the prior incident. This is a more general speaking; part of Ansem recognizes he is not responsible for the choices that Xehanort's other self made, but only part.

It meant nothing to Xehanort either, no twinge of recognition or familiarity, unlike other things. Which should have been a warning in of itself, but perhaps in the wake of discovering so much lost, something that offered hope was also something to be utterly and willfully blind over.

"Perhaps, in a way." A new mentor? Sort of ... but also not quite. "Your knowledge is vast, but you know only how to be human." The raised hand clenches into a fist, darkness briefly surging up in a tangle of shadow before fading away just as fast. "You can't teach a dog how to be a dog, that requires another dog. And these things I am capable of.. from merely wielding darkness to snatching entire lives away for my own use.. how could anyone instruct me on how to safely use it, if none of us even knew I could?"

Except Braig. Braig knew, he's certain of it.

But there's still that ... idea of a mentor. "But a mentor is more than just a teacher. I do not consider him and think to myself, 'I want to be that'."

Unfortunately for Ansem that did not in fact apply to HIM, as proven in a good six more months at home where Xehanort would have decided not only did he want to be that, he was in fact, Ansem himself.

Eyes widened imperceptibly at the display of darkness. It wasn't so much its appearance as the casualness with which Xehanort wielded it; for Ansem, it would have been akin to handling a live - and angry - rattlesnake. Something just as willing to bite its wielder as anyone else, and sink its poison deep in to their veins. For Xehanort, it was as though it was a harmless garter snake; perhaps able to snap, but only if handled improperly - which he clearly had no fear of doing, even by accident.

It was impressive. It was concerning. It made it all the more imperative that Xehanort have a Master who could handle it - and him. A position Ansem was uncertain he could fulfill, and certainly not on his own. Perhaps that was why he was willing to overlook his own misgivings, and simply nod.

"Then tell me- what do you want to be?"

It is just as dangerous; darkness doesn't stop being darkness simply because of who wields it, and Ansem is right to be maybe a little alarmed. It still encourages only the negative, feeds upon it and enhances it, and while it can be controlled in the hands of the skilled, it never stops being dangerous. But it's certain Xehanort's utterly unafraid, and that... might not be for the best.

"I don't know." A disappointing answer to be certain! The bane of every instructor, every professor, every parent who wants to encourage a child towards some course in life! "I thought I knew. And then this place happened. And should the train oust me tomorrow, and I find myself back in Radiant Garden.. all of this will remain. At the very least, knowledge that there is more... than one small world, as precious as it is, and all the possibilities that contains.."

Xehanort frowns, glancing towards the ceiling. "If nothing else I'm going to have to work on my skills of persuasion, I'm not certain you ... your ... past self will welcome open-armed the idea of making Radiant Garden a Void-active world."

"I think not." There's some wry humor, there. "Though I was eager to learn more of other worlds, once I knew of their existences, I was always aware of possible dangers. I think a slow introduction would be best, and patience a virtue in such a case."

A small quirk of a smile.

"I may not be as old as Elidibus, but I can be set in my ways. Give me time, though, and I'd like to think I could adapt."

It sounds positive. A hopeful idea, something that would surely help and not hinder their world. "The longer I have here the more time I'll have to build a more solid case for it." How to reach out into the Void is another question entirely! How does one contact the normal Voidtreckers, that WEREN'T part of this rogue train?

Something to work on in the future.

There's a few moments of silence as Xehanort weighs very carefully leaving it at that and nothing else - it'd be simple enough to cry exhaustion and leave, it wouldn't even be a lie.

"..." There would be other opportunities. Other moments in passing. Surely. "...Do you know what 'Kingdom Hearts' is?" That's a wildly different subject, as if the previous one had been a cover, a distraction. "A place? An object? An idea alone?" There should be, with that subject, an intensity to the question, that laser focus on all things ruinous -- it's not there. This is still idle curiosity, not lethal obsession, and nothing of his tone or bearing suggests otherwise.. so far.

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[closed] there's a beast

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