|
|
Post by jen on Jul 19, 2010 15:14:47 GMT -5
June 11, 2010
“What…?”
The slim, petite form of a cloaked figure had melted into existence without a sound before now, somehow blending in with the pure white shades of Castle Oblivion despite the extreme contrast of their clothing. The hood concealing the face of the speaker was shaken off, revealing wide green eyes and astounded, parted lips. Then, a look of grim comprehension set in, and Larxene wore a look of a person whose expectations had, most unfortunately, been met. She had not expected anything more of her fallen members. Considerable time had passed, she deduced, surveying the wreckage with disdainful eyes. No, the damage was not from battles alone. It was time that had crumbled much of her castle – hers, as she had got here first. Marluxia was long gone, she guessed, following the progress of a tiny spider in the far corner of the room with an uncommitted gaze. Dead and gone. Like her. Larxene did not have the heart for curiosity, however, and questioned her existence no further.
“Men,” the blonde sighed contemptuously, throwing herself gracefully onto the nearby seat that recalled a throne, smiling in satisfaction at the pleasant, fitting image this created. This was, of course, where she always ought to have sat. It was about time Marluxia stopped hogging the limelight. His flamboyant hairstyle should have never permitted him any more rights than his fellows; he was certainly no more capable than she. Never mind – no use dwelling on it, really. For all she knew, she was the only one fate decided to bring back for round two. Perhaps her promise to Sora was more significant than she thought; could her promise to settle the score have possibly brought her back? Be it the reason or not, Sora’s death was just one of an extensive to-do list Larxene had planned ahead. Well, then there was the other possibility to consider – immediately, a frown set upon the delicate features of XII – that she was not in fact the only member to have been revived. In that case, what would the reasoning be behind their ‘rebirth’? Larxene dismissed these questions; they would wait for the time being, as there were more pressing issues she faced. What if Marluxia too had returned? It went without saying he had been defeated by Sora; XI had made it clear from the very start he would not relinquish his hold upon the Castle without a fight. She didn’t doubt he fought till the end. Killed by a child! How very disappointing. But, still, all the same, Marluxia would want his Castle back. “Hmph! Let him come,” she murmured, with a haughty toss of her sleek, pale hair. “I’ll show him how you defend a castle.” Then the Nymph glanced around the crumbling room doubtfully. “Though it really isn’t much of a castle, anymore,” she continued, contempt returning to the young woman’s ringing, lofty voice. “Hardlyworth the admission fee. Eurgh.”
|
|
|
|
Post by three on Jul 19, 2010 15:48:24 GMT -5
What a wretched place.
Xaldin had no love for Castle Oblivion, and would not even if such a feeling was capable of being expressed by the Nobody. He wanted nothing to do with these white walls, but yet here he was, though for good reason. The glare of the white walls brought nothing but displeasure, and the Whirlwind Lancer couldn't help but compare this castle to the one that he had spent a great deal of time in.
He believed it to be superior in every way.
The purpose for his visit to a seemingly pointless location was simple; investigation. Marluxia had returned, an encounter that had not ended well by any means, and Xaldin had to search the white walls for his companion, the Savage Nymph. While Saix had arrived in a timely manner to deflect Xaldin from destroying Marluxia, Larxene would not benefit from such aid. Perhaps Xaldin would have the chance to punish this one uninhibited.
Number Three entered the next level of Castle Oblivion to be greeted by a voice, though it was not directed at him. The shrill tone was unmistakably the Savage Nymph's, and however unpleasant Xaldin found XII to be he would take satisfaction in the events that were sure to follow.
"Do you no longer care for Castle Oblivion, Larxene?"
Xaldin stepped into sight, his calculating gaze glued to the Savage Nymph. He was confident what the result would be if a battle occurred, but it would only increase his advantage to be prepared.
|
|
|
|
Post by jen on Jul 20, 2010 13:01:50 GMT -5
“Do you no longer care for Castle Oblivion, Larxene?”
The unexpected voice of the Organization’s third member startled the Nymph; working to conceal her surprise, she shot the Whirlwind Lancer a sharp look.
“Were I capable,” she amended haughtily, “I can assure you my ‘care’ would be minimal, anyway.”
Never once did the woman’s emerald eyes waver, fixed unblinkingly upon the deadpan expression of the Lancer. Just how much of their mutiny, of sorts, had reached the ears of the Superior? She thought all those likely to tattle had perished alongside her – assuming Axel and Marluxia had indeed went down fighting, and it was unlikely either of them would tell tales even if they had. All the same, the Savage Nymph rose from her throne warily, her eyes cold and alert for any sudden movements. She assessed the older Nobody briefly, a tiny smile playing on her lips. So he could play around with a breeze – big deal! She could probably take him, if it came down to it.
The blonde drew up to her fullest height arrogantly. “What do you want, Xaldin?” A pretentious glance around the room. It had certainly seen better days. “It’s not like you’re a regular visitor to these ends … unless you came specifically to see me.”
She flashed him a sarcastic, award-winning smile, accompanied with a child-like giggle.
“Oh, how sweet of you!”
Though the shrill gurgle of joy could have passed off for true glee, Larxene’s eyes never released their hold on his stoic expression.
|
|
|
|
Post by three on Jul 20, 2010 18:53:38 GMT -5
What a fake.
Everything about Larxene was exaggerated. Her movements, her expressions, her words. She turned from the emptiness inside of her and embraced life as a mockery of a living being. He himself could not say that no emotion was expressed in his features, but Larxene's display was sickening. Xaldin portrayed emotion for reason, purpose, but the Savage Nymph, she did it for nothing. She had no point, her existence was meaningless.
The tone used to address Xaldin was riddled with disrespect and arrogance, as did her posture. The Savage Nymph rose from the throne, a chair that served as a pathetic attempt to feel royal in nature. Marluxia's tramp would never be above anything, she belonged to the scum stuck to the ground. Her existence served as a distraction that tread upon the earth, sticking to their feet like a parasite. He would strike her down at that moment, if it were not for the potential that she could serve, though it was unlikely that she would prove to be useful.
Xaldin would investigate, regardless.
Larxene stood at her full height, a sign of her defiance, and questioned Xaldin's purpose. He had not betrayed the Organization, and he had not disregarded his order upon return from the damned. Larxene's attitude was enough to warrant a second demise all on its own, but still the Lancer stayed his hand. She proposed that he had come to see her, mocking Xaldin for the notion. For once the Savage Nymph spoke truth, but even then her truth was colored by false observations and lies.
"Perhaps."
Number Three stepped forward, closer to the female Nobody. His deep blue eyes locked with her's, though she was too stubborn to be beaten down by an invisible battle of wills. No, defeat would have to come in a much more tangible form.
"You're treachery is not unknown to us, Larxene. Do you wish to challenge what's been said, to cry for your innocence? I would judge you now, so if there are words to be said say them."
A single lance appeared in Xaldin's hand, the butt of the weapon placed upon the ground so that the deadly tip pointed to the ceiling.
He would not have her challenge him without knowing the consequences.
|
|
|
|
Post by jen on Jul 21, 2010 14:01:12 GMT -5
The smile slid from Larxene’s pale, pretty face like slime. Her features were rearranged instantaneously, suddenly far more suiting to her nature; she was almost dead in the eyes that never broke contact with his, her expression nothing but calculating.
“How very charming,” she said silkily, her sweet, soprano voice unshaken. “I never figured you for a lapdog, III.” A scornful, mocking sigh. She expected little to come from her goads. Particularly not from Xaldin; of all the Organization, his ‘temper’ was among the more difficult to provoke. However, the blonde’s nature demanded she provide some sort of cutting remark as it presented itself. Even in a situation such as this. It seemed that her suspicions were correct. Her caution was not amiss. She scanned the length of the large instrument in the Lancer’s hand coldly, eyes narrowed slightly as they flickered between the weapon, and his face. He was here to punish. Someone had told. As the thought occurred, fury swelled in her chest. A stiff, icy smile fixed itself on her rose-coloured lips.
“So tell me, Xaldin,” she said carelessly, controlling the fire that raged below with natural ease. “Who blabbed?” She gazed at the Whirlwind Lancer steadily, the seemingly playful twinkle in her eyes an indication of a composed storm.
|
|
|
|
Post by three on Jul 21, 2010 14:39:06 GMT -5
Larxene's attempt to goad the Lancer was pathetic, though Xaldin expected nothing less from her ilk. She was always insignificant to the Organization, a place holder so that the Order of Thirteen could consider itself complete. He would sooner consider the Organization twelve, if only to have her removed from the ranks. They had suffered betrayal at the hands of Marluxia, but nothing short of incompetence had been delivered by the Savage Nymph.
"The Superior does not know of this."
A sadistic smile, an expression normally reserved for Larxene, tugged at the corners of Xaldin's lips. There would be no interference on her behalf, no one to save her. None knew she had returned, though some surely suspected it, because she had not bothered to make her presence known again. Xaldin had the advantage of secrecy, and no one would ever have to know that Larxene returned only to fall to his merciless blade.
Larxene's confident smile had become icy, perhaps she now understood the gravity of the situation. The Savage Nymph wished to know who revealed her betrayal, and Xaldin saw no reason to keep it from her.
"Axel."
There was no love lost between Xaldin and the Flurry of Dancing Flames, nothing to be lost by putting his life in peril. If Larxene were to survive this encounter she would most likely seek revenge upon the red-headed Nobody, and Axel was a casualty the Organization could easily afford.
|
|
|
|
Post by jen on Jul 21, 2010 15:02:24 GMT -5
“Axel.”
Ah…
The rest of the conversation suddenly became irrelevant, for just a moment. The Savage Nymph’s slightly parted lips melted into a tiny, almost satisfied smile. Her eyes flickered away from Xaldin’s, and ignoring his presence completely, she settled back into her seat, her expression pensive. She would usually put on a hell of a show. Perhaps kick a few things. Scream. Make a massive fuss.
Axel.
Her show would have to wait. Well, that was certainly unexpected. But all she did expect, at the same time. He had not gone to the Superior – she didn’t quite know what to make of this – but he had tattled, nevertheless. He had told, fully aware of what this would mean. He had betrayed the betrayers. It was not in the neophyte’s nature to trust, but she had. Not fully, of course, but she had placed a stupid amount of trust in the Flurry of Dancing Flames, and he had betrayed it.
Perhaps he thought it harmless to disclose the details, since she and Marluxia were dead? No harm done? She gave up on forming excuses for the redhead quickly; he would explain, later on, with a knife to his throat exactly what ran through that useless, impulsive mind of his.
“I suppose that’s another name to add to the list.”
She looked up once more, stared into the eyes of the Lancer without recognition of the deadly position he held her in. “Of course, I’ll have to kill him, you know,” she informed him serenely. It was such a shame. She thought perhaps he wasn’t as much a waste of space as nearly everyone else. Never mind – she was easy come, easy go. The Nymph cocked her head to the side slightly as she appraised the long, deadly instrument in the older Nobody’s hand. She nodded at it casually. “I suppose you’ll want your brownie points. Show your die-hard dedication to our dear Organization or whatever. I won’t pretend to understand. I don’t think you appreciate just how dispensable you are, III. Just like our dear Axel.” She smiled wide. “Just like me.”
|
|
