vapidus

When Ventus showed up with the wirecutters, nobody wasted any time. The alarm went up minutes later, flattening Vanitas's more sensitive pair of ears as he ran, and in the hallways and the lights and the running, and the knocking over of confused staff, and the scraping under more fences, first Repliku had disappeared, then Xion, until it was just the two of them, him and Ventus still.

Vanitas was a practical person. There was no chance of going back for them.

Once they get past the last fence, Ventus flapping his useless wings as much as he can make them go in the climbing, the world suddenly changes. There's lights on sticks, broad flat paths and many, many buildings. They go several blocks and it just doesn't seem to end; sometimes vehicles roar down the paths and they hide in nearby alcoves or bushes. Vanitas had no idea what he was expecting - something like in the Olympics, or the documentaries of forests and animals by the man with what even Vanitas had to admit was a soothing voice. Not... more, strange, lab. His ears are swiveling, alert, then flatten again as something falls on them, and Vanitas looks up.

That's about the warning they get before it starts raining.It's not heavy - more of a mist than anything else, but the kids have never experienced it in their climate controlled areas their clothes are definitely made for. Vanitas hates it immediately, making a noise that is absolutely not a hiss of frustration, before glancing at Ventus as if to say "any more bright ideas", because it is just now dawning on Vanitas that, perhaps, neither of them prepared for this in a tangible, shelter and food way, beforehand.

Vanitas is a bit iffy about dark corridors right now, given the real estate he's currently loaning. It's a pain, because they're just so easy to make and come naturally to him. He can use the lanes at least though, which is good, because otherwise the only way to the orange town bolted onto Yen Sid's tower would be the train, and Vanitas doesn't want to walk. Or really interact with people right now.

He just needs a fresh air today. The tower's getting way too full and Sora's friendly, but also a little too much at times, and also a reminder of just how far and close Ventus is right now. Lea looks like he's thinking the exact same thing, whenever they're in the same room together, Riku talks to him without meeting his (current) face, and Kairi... well actually there's nothing wrong there. But the cooped up feeling is still enough to get him wanting out for a bit. The increasing oppressive feeling of knowing the clock is ticking hasn't been helping.

The clocktower is picked arbitrarily. It's the highest point in the town he can see, and he likes to be tall, and there's probably not going to be anyone there. Perfect. And later he can see if there's any interesting rocks in the hills and woods nearby. He's going to have to start all over with his collection, thanks Ventus.

Unbeknownst to him, trying to use a Lane within a world isn't really what they're intended for. The result is a kind of universal hiccup trying to smooth over the contradictory commands to go to a different world that is also the same world.

Sorry, Roxen.

The last shards of the piece of Xehanort's heart dissipate, unable to hold themselves together, and Vanitas stares out at the Abyss, keyblade hanging by his side. There's nothing but silence and the distant roar of wind.

"Ventus?"

Vanitas scuffs a boot on the featureless black disc below him, barely discernible, then kicks it. There's no response at all. Not even the hint of the potential for response. It's just silent and dark and empty.

"Ventuussss. Venty Wenty. Venbutt. Wake the fuck up." A pause. "I'm burning your chess sets."

Nothing. There's a hiss and Vanitas turns to see a piece of darkness dissipating from the disc into mist, revealing a piece of colour that shines upwards.

"About time."

He walks over to it, and stops short when he sees what it is. It's nothing that should be on Ventus's disc at all. A single blue, catlike eye, and a little of the red and black around it. There's another hiss behind and to the right of Vanitas, and another small shaft of exposed light spiking up.

Foreboding hits Vanitas like a freight train. So does consciousness.

He sits up with a gasp of breath, feeling like one big bruise, and he stares down at callused and scarred hands and arms, one ringed with a bracelet. These aren't the clothes he was wearing. This is not his beautiful house. He pats himself down, and he can't find his Wayfinder.

If there's one thing about the World That Never Was, it's no lack of reflective surfaces. Still puddles of rain that never fell. Dark windows in buildings never occupied. Vanitas stares at glowing red eyes in a face not his own, and swears.

Navigating this world was easier when it wasn't absolutely teeming with heartless fallen from the giant Unmoon above. Vanitas has never seen a swarm this thick or large, and he ran out of potions a while back. It's all he can do to find ways to disengage long enough to spam Cure, wait for his magic to recover, then spam it again, an increasingly taller ask as he makes his way back to the Castle where he's sure the others are still fighting. He wears the cloak, but he doesn't want to risk a dark portal just yet.

He wipes his hand across his eyes, curling his lip at the black gunk that just will not stop oozing from them like viscous tears. His clothes - Ventus's clothes - are smeared with handlines of it from nose and mouth and maybe ears, he hasn't checked. He's still wearing that blue lobster shirt, faded from time that chilled Vanitas. He sways and leans against a wall, fighting the urge to throw up. It hasn't been this bad in years.

The same liquid tar hits the pavement, and Vanitas waits, but no red eyes appear in it. A guard armor takes the opportunity to attack, and Vanitas barely dodges the attack and is struck by the pieces of wall produced by it, knocking him to his knees. His breath mists in the air as he pants harshly, disoriented.