Due Process(Marluxia)

[three]

June 10, 2010

It had been some time since Xaldin had taken a seat in the Grey Area. How long had passed since his demise, months? Years? The Whirlwind Lancer had no way of knowing, his contact with the other Nobodies had limited since his return. Indeed, Xaldin had been morose if anything. The return from death was a disturbing notion, almost more so than that of dying in the first place. His contemplations left him with no answer as to why they had returned, they simply had.

But he knew it to be anything but simple.

The furniture in the Grey Area was dull, lacking personality and comfort. That was the reason, at least in Xaldin's eyes, that they existed to begin with. In these simple chairs was a reflection of the Nobodies that used them; a resemblance to their true nature. No amount of pretending could disguise what they felt inside, which was, no more or less, nothing. The Whirlwind Lancer could not even except his fate, as acceptance was an emotion, and thus he was incapable of expressing such a thing.

He had not been an accepting one, even with a heart.

His eyes scanned the featureless room, memories of a time that did not seem to be so long ago flashing through his mind. Many had spent time in this room, some waiting for their orders from Saix, others simply trying to appeal to some imaginary sense of social nature. Xaldin was beyond such petty things. He preferred the empty hallways of Beast's Castle to this pathetic excuse of place to gather. If he could feel he would have regretted the failure at that castle, there had been such promise in that monster.

Thoughts of the Beast connected to memories of Sora, which only led to images of the Key of Destiny. What of Roxas? Where did he stand now? Friend? Foe? Did he even exist? The Nobody with a Keyblade had left their ranks long before his death, and it was clear to all who saw Sora where he had gone, but had that changed? Twelve of the thirteen Nobodies had returned, at least that was the common belief, so why not the last?

Xaldin could not say for certain, Roxas had always been unique. If only he had been as fascinating in character as he was in power, but the Whirlwind Lancer could not truly be disappointed at that. Roxas was low on the list of priorities, at least until his existence, or lack of, had been confirmed. What Xaldin wished to know was the fate of some other Nobodies, one's that had been formerly referred to as comrades.

The Superior's words. He had never shared the same disposition on those neophytes.

Those few that had decided to betray the Organization did not threaten the Whirlwind Lancer, but that did not mean he would deign to give them pardon. No, he would sooner have their heads upon his lances. Mutiny deserved only one response; death.

It occurred to Xaldin a moment later that he was not alone, that another had entered the premise. Nobodies could not feel, but that did not mean he could not sense when one of his own kind were close by. It was not a sensation to be felt, but more of a knowledge, as if Xaldin simply knew that he was no longer alone.

"This is a surprise."

Xaldin did not move to intercept the new arrival, but his words would prove to be enough of an acknowledgement.

[eleven]

As if on cue from the words of the Lancer, an instantaneous burst of darkness erupted from the floor a moderate distance from where the Nobody sat. Dark vines spiraled upwards to briefly form an oval of blackish and violet hues before returning to the nothingness that spawned it. In it's place stood another of the Thirteen, who brought his hands up to remove the ebony hood that shrouded his face. As he did so, cherry blossoms erupted from his highly noticeable pink locks to fall into nothingness. Blue eyes had been attentive the whole time, and had found a lock on the only shell within the room, intent now on a keen observance of every movement this Nobody were to make.

The Graceful Assassin recognized this particular hollow embodiment of anger immediately, as he would of any familiar who wore the cloak. He had no desire for a share of words with Xaldin, as he saw the Lancer as nothing more than an obstacle of his plans that would present itself in due time. A budding weed that would soon infest the glorious garden that was his timely Organization, one that will have it's roots ripped from the solid comfort in which it was planted.

There was no regard for respect for the founders, the least of all being the purposeless Number Three.

There was little doubt that he was to be greeted with anything but a proper and formal greeting from the likes of Xaldin, much like anyone within this Organization who possessed a rank higher than nine. He was expecting it in fact, however was never unprepared to provide a suitable defense for himself. Marluxia however decided to remain emotionless in his demeanor for the time being.

"Indeed it is. I half expected you to be using your time away from the Castle." spoke Number Eleven to the dreaded Nobody sitting before him. Purely intentional, Marluxia gave a courteous nod to follow up his brief sentence to send off mixed messages. If anything it would put uncertainty into play on the thoughts of his comrade, which he preferred more over the certainty that he remained a traitor.

[three]

With the flip of a hood the Nobody revealed himself, though Xaldin had known the identity of the shell in question some time before. Marluxia's stink, a potent aroma of flowers that both assaulted and insulted the senses. The flower petals that drifted down as a result of Marluxia removing his hood was no less intruding, an act of flamboyance that would have disgusted Dilan. Xaldin's expression remained stoic, even in the face of the Organization's greatest traitor. The others had not planned their betrayal out in the greatest detail; even Larxene was no exception. Her part in Marluxia's plan had been that of a pathetic and dim servant.

They were all pathetic in Xaldin's eyes.

The Graceful Assassin extended to Xaldin a motion that portrayed something he had never seen in Marluxia before, at least not directed towards him. The nod was made to show respect, a concept that Marluxia had been sorely lacking in during his former tenure with the Organization. Perhaps death had taught XI a lesson, but Xaldin was not so optimistic. Nobodies were selfish beings, though they could not be held at fault for that. Their heartlessness made acts of kindness impossible to perform without attaching some foolish notion to them as well, and Xaldin had not been too prone to foolishness even when he possessed the ability to feel.

In light of the respect shown, whether faked to act out some design or not, Xaldin decided that he would attempt a veil of politeness during the confrontation. The Whirlwind Lancer raised his arm and performed a motion, one that was directed towards the furniture positioned directly across from him. All that separated the two couches was a simple table, a meager barrier if conflict were to occur. He held no illusions about the direction of this encounter, Xaldin's intentions were keenly set upon putting the Graceful Assassin his place.

If that place did not exist, Xaldin would fondly remember the memories of destroying Marluxia, should the day where he possessed a heart ever arrive.

"There is little use to make of my time, I lack the Superior's direction."

Xemnas had not produced orders for the Nobodies following him, at least none that Xaldin knew of. Saix did not stand in this room, and no grand gathering had been called. It was disappointing, at least in theory, that the Superior had not passed judgment upon those who had been less than faithful to the Organization. Xaldin had half-hoped that Xemnas would personally give him the task of destroying the traitors, but it was not so.

He would simply have to act on his own.

"Have you only just returned?"

The Whirlwind Lancer was curious, though he doubted that Marluxia would reveal much on the subject, if anything at all. Nobodies were nigh impossible to read, especially with such seasoned liars, a group that easily included the Graceful Assassin.

[eleven]

As Xaldin gestured to the other couch before him, steps from the other Nobody began to resonate within the room of glass. He was quick and silent to sit down upon the couch, and looked about the room with a mild mask of displeasure. He returned his blue gaze to look upon the single figure before him in the nearly identical cloak, and closed his eyes briefly as he eased into what humans would describe as a more comfortable position. Indeed he could not feel like the rest of the Organization, yet he could still acknowledge that the couch was there and that sitting was much more suitable than standing for the moment.

Xaldin's words brought about a mild curiosity regarding the Superior's present motives, and why he had yet to provide Number Three with any orders or a general scope of what the plan was. Assuming the plan had differed from before that is. If a founding member out of all the Organization had no orders, then it was wise to presume that there had been no call in regards to a meeting. Xemnas was more than likely lurking about the Altar of Naught, formulating a deeply woven plan to put into play by use of his cloaked tools. Marluxia was not too fond of the idea which involved him once more doing dirty work that would benefit the cause of a fool like Xemnas, no, the Assassin saw more gain by developing his own endeavors.

That would be hard to accomplish while the others remained certain he was a traitor, and continued in their naive suspicions of his motives.

Such thinking led to his actions here within this room, as Marluxia remained within an area of quiet and unusual courtesy for the Nobody with the distasteful sideburns. Normally in the past Number Eleven would have wasted no time to give a harsh opinion on Xaldin's grooming capabilities, yet to regain the benefit of the doubt among the clan of imbeciles, he remained resilient to continue this facade of respect for the higher ups. He laid out no comment for the Lancer's remark of Xemnas, but rather remained silent until a question was asked of him. Marluxia leaned forward on his seat as he pondered an answer to the matter of inquiry, looking to the floor as he mentally calculated the amount of time that had passed since his revival.

When a suitable enough answer came about, he returned his blue eyes to meet Xaldin's of violet. "Half a day's time ago, fittingly enough within the confines of Castle Oblivion." he stated without much interest in the dull occurrence that took place before his arrival here. "Yourself?" asked Marluxia, merely to play into a hoax of interest. In truth the Assassin could never find anything involving a member like Xaldin interesting unless it benefited his own cause, which more often than not never occurred unless they met their timely demise. A mental smirk spread across the mind of the Assassin as he remembered the fondness of watching Axel light Number Four up like a firework, yet he exterior features remained emotionless in expression.

[three]

Xaldin's deep blue eyes calculated the Nobody that was now sitting opposite of him, though their was nothing to garner from such an action. Marluxia's features were as set as ever, cold and stone like. If there was anything that the Graceful Assassin resembled the Superior in, it would be their demeanor. Even the Whirlwind Lancer faked emotion at times, more often than not to accomplish some goal, but the fact remained. Marluxia appeared to embrace the emptiness inside of him, and if there was one trait that he possessed that warranted respect, it would be that one.

A pity, then, that Marluxia possessed so many other traits that made him undeserving of admiration.

The Graceful Assassin leaned in slightly at Xaldin's question, though Number Three was confident enough that he did not pause to think so that he might piece together a lie. Marluxia was too talented a liar, surely he had been as much before losing his heart, however black it may have been. It would not be simple to catch Marluxia in a blatant lie, but the Whirlwind Lancer did not need to accomplish that to sentence him to death. The only thing that he required was proof of Marluxia's mutiny, and that had been produced long ago.

Marluxia's interest in Xaldin's time of return was no doubt a mere reflection of his own; a lie to continue the facade of respect. The encounter had been surprisingly pleasant, but that was only on the outside. Surely as it was running through Xaldin's own mind, the possibilities of how to handle the inevitable conflict were running through Marluxia's as well. The Whirlwind Lancer looked forward to the conflict, not only because the test of strength would serve well to ensure that he had not fallen in skill since his passing, but also because Xaldin wished to test Marluxia's strength as well.

It would serve as an adequate trial for the traitor.

"As the Beast's Castle was the place of my demise, so was it the place of my rebirth. Little time seems to have passed since the return of the Organization, which would explain the lack of orders."

The thought that Xemnas had abandoned them had occurred to Xaldin since his return, but he had not allowed those thoughts to progress far enough to turn into plans of betrayal. He did not care for the Organization as an order, he had not been fond of the group when he held a heart, and such feelings would not develop if he was to ever possess one again. The purpose of the Organization was to reclaim hearts for those that did not possess any; a goal that had been severely hampered by the dim-witted Keyblade Master.

Thoughts that the Organization would not recover from their defeat had crossed the Lancer's mind, but he was not one to feed such concepts.

"Your mutiny was revealed shortly after your fall."

Xaldin allowed the words to hang in the air a moment, so that the effect might fully take hold of Marluxia. He would have his intentions for humoring this encounter clear; a misunderstanding would only complicate the situation when it would be better off simple.

"What are your intentions?"

[eleven]

The Assassin let his gaze wander off to the glass that gave view to Kingdom Hearts, or what remained of it after Xemnas' duel with the two key bearers. It was a sight that would have put discouragement in anyone with a heart. Number Eleven remained within his composure however, and would not let evidence of such a major setback to his plans place a mockery of doubt within his mind. However as he began to assess the roots of a new strategy to accommodate The Superior's mishap, the Lancer's words which spoke of mutiny brought him back to the conversation at hand.

The inquiry of his betrayal was bound to come up sooner than later, and it was apparent that the Lancer was keen to cut to the chase. From what the graceful one had come to observe about the leader of the dragoons, was that Xaldin would always rather get straight to the matter at hand than continue on with a casual chat. Open communication had never been a positive quality of this nobody, in Marluxia's opinion. The Assassin felt that many of the founders of this group possessed little to none, however there were some notable mentions. Number Three retained a strong resilience to succeed in his endeavors, much like himself which was an admirable trait despite the many brutish aspects of the Whirlwind sadist's persona.

Xaldin's question regarding Marluxia's intentions went unanswered verbally, and were instead greeted by an upwards open palm that continued to shower itself with a vague pink light, accompanied by petals of the same hue. Marluxia continued to stare at it without paying much mind to the Lancer for several silenced seconds, then returned his gaze to the Nobody as he clenched his hand into a fist. "Surely you have not forgotten since the day we met Number Three." spoke Marluxia in a reference to the day when Xigbar and the Wind wielder found and recruited the Assassin.

"My intention is completion, as is any other member of this group." continued Marluxia, "You know as well as I do that suspicion of each other does little to help what little unity this Organization still retains, yet you bring up matters better left at rest. Is our demise not a suitable repercussion for our past mistakes?" As he finished his sentence, the pink haired nobody produced a slight furrow in his brow before looking back towards the only door to the room. It was possible that Xaldin desired conflict with the Lord of Castle Oblivion, and if that was indeed true then hostility would be inevitable. XI remained unconcerned with such matters however, as he remained confident that Xaldin was no more of a threat to him than Saix or Axel. If the Lancer so sought a fight, then he would surely regret his decision.