You wouldn't steal a boy

[vapidus]

In the moment immediately after the action there is only silence, everything utterly frozen.

The old man in front of Vanitas coughs, blood dripping out his mouth. He makes a noise - he can't speak. Keyblades can cut through nearly whatever they wish and the bone of a ribcage isn't an obstacle. Eventually, his widened eyes dull and his weight slumps and drags the tip of Void Gear down, the keyblade sliding out of the wound it punctured half with only the force of it's summoning. Vanitas realizes, in a distant and offhand way, that this is the same guy depicted in all the portraits and statues all over the place.

He stares down at the body, blood still dripping from the Keyblade's tip onto the floor at his side. It doesn't seem entirely real. Why did he do that?

This morning, the biggest worry on Vanitas's mind had been the failure of a magic lesson. He'd been angry and fuming less because of it, and more because of all the little things it had been the final straw for. Darkness this and light that. That was it, Vanitas had decided. He was running away. It was a quick and simple decision, and he had found his way through a tunnel of darkness into another world, which was new and interesting in and of itself, and definitely a worthy distraction.

He'd spent some time exploring the white stone buildings and streets, all oddly empty, then a house that contained splashes of colour. It was extensive, with rooms and halls folding in on themselves. A keyblade made short work of the many and myriad locks, even if it was annoying to use it on near every single door. What was initially novel became vaguely, indefinably foreboding. It was in the bloodied bandages he found in a rubbish bin. It was in the odd way the pantry was stocked. It was in the pristine, white, show-home room he still stood in the empty doorway of, with it's bookshelves with no books on them.

I can never go back, Vanitas had told himself this morning, and Vanitas now considers this a stupid, petty and childish thought, like a little kid declaring they were a cloud for a day. Because now, with the blood of some random stranger on his shaking hands, he really can't go back. He's proved them all right. Behind him, he can feel his shadow ripple and swell.

Comments

[vacantis]

For Ventus, days had stopped being defined by sun and stars and the heat of sand and strange crawling monsters, and had slipped into a strange new routine at the whims of a new Master.

Don't get Ventus wrong, he was in no way unhappy with the shift. For all of his very short existance, the few concept that stuck in his head where that the world was harsh, it was uncaring and lonely and...and...

Well Ventus couldn't do anything about it. And apperantly, he wasn't supposed to. He was, for all extents and purposes, a tool, and for some undefinable reason he had finally been an acceptable enough one to be taken here.

Where before he had seen Xehanort perhaps ones a week, perhaps less, to get supplies and had his progress checked on, now his training had progressed to actual training, not just vague instructions on plans and purposes.

Things had been a routine, safe that was, until now.

Ventus was frozen in the doorway, staring wide eyed as Xehanort crumpled in front of him a bit of blood splattered down the front of his clothes. He'd been trailing right before the older man after all, and he still stood, frozen in place as Xehanorts falling body revealed another boy behind it, about his age, with a keyblade in hand.

He was staring at the body, frozen as well. Part of Ventus's hand twitched automatically, trying to call for Wayward Wind. This is an enemy His training said. This is a danger. You need to fight. You need to strike first, this is a test this is an attack just movemovemove!

But Ventus couldn't move a muscle, he stood there face slack and looked down wide eyed, a puppet with its strings cut.

He had no idea what to do.

[vapidus]

Movement causes Vanitas's head to snap up, and his eyes meet those of a boy his own age, with a mirrored frozen stillness in them. The moment stretches to a thread - Vanitas is still processing that he killed someone and he has to finish that before he can get to and someone saw it.

He can't let anyone know. If he was thinking a bit more clearly, he'd remember how empty this world was, but he isn't. Vanitas starts to lift the tip of Void Gear towards the boy's throat with a "Don't move," but catches sight of the still wet blood along it's length and stalls halfway. It matches the blood on the blond boy's front, on Vanitas's front. If Void Gear had been longer, if the boy had been standing a little closer behind the man, it would have hit him too. When it disappears from Vanitas's hand, the blood coating it drops in a shower to the floor.

Vanitas rushes forward faster than thought, flashing past and through the dead object on the floor to make a grab at the front of the boy's shirt, ending up pushing him against the hallway wall with the momentum. "Don't make a sound," he says, eyes wide and wild. Shit. The other boy is probably the man's grandkid or nephew or something.

[vacantis]

Ventus is not moving. Ventus is staring straight at Vanitas with an unnerving empty expression. He flinched a bit at the sound the blood makes when it hits the ground, because inwardly he wants to be sick, Xehanort was the only person he ever knew the only person who cared for him in any way the only thing that didn’t leave and now and now and now

And now he’s gone and Ven is unable to process it.

Something hits him and shoved him backwards and Ven hits the wall with far to little sound for the force Vanitas exerted. He blinks up dizzily, and tries to process what the other boy was saying He was a keyblade weilder like Master Xehanort. An old apprentice? The thought hurt. The boy had said something about not talking. Oh, Ven kept getting distracted, his thoughts were all messed up and misaligned.

He didn’t even really think twice about nodding. An order was an order to his jumbled thoughts, and it wasn’t like Ven was chatty anyway. Listening to orders had always been better then not listening, any way.

[vapidus]

Ventus nodding does, ironically, calm Vanitas down a little. At least something in this mess is going right.

"Good," he says distractedly, looking up and down the hallway. He didn't actually plan past this point, but he quickly spins the mental roulette wheel of his decision making process anyway. He can't stay here. He can't let anyone find out. Therefore...

"This way," he says, tugging the boy along with him down the hallway, at first by the hold on his shirt, then by a grip on his wrist when that clearly shows it's flaws when it comes to going anywhere fast. With his free hand held out he summons a dark portal further ahead. He's not thinking of any destination in mind other than anywhere away from here and anywhere not home when he makes it, although it's not home anymore, is it?

By the time he pulls the boy with him through it, he's running at full speed.

[vacantis]

Oh so they are going places now? Ventus is dimly aware he should probably be getting ready to attack this boy any moment now, but this kid killed Xehanort so how would he even go about it? What strategies for those dark creatures worked on people? Was it even worth it, if the kid wasn't attacking him yet? Questions questions. Ven has a lot of them.

Ventus actually is rather familiar with dark portals so being dragged towards one does not freak him out as much as it would any normal kid in this situation (even one going through shock) because its just a door. He doesn't have any misgivings until he realizes he doesn't know where this door leads and it could be going anywhere and thus, tries to yank his hand back at the last second, digging his heels in just late enough that even with all his strength, he still gets pulled through, unbalenced, tumbling onto the grass in a tangle of limbs and a yelp.

When he pushes himself up, he is temporarily frozen at the sensation of grass under his fingers (so much softer then sand) and then looking around, a strange, but not foreboding forest, bordering the prettiest town Ventus had ever seen, all sleepy brownstone washed out in orange lighting. The portal seems to have deposited them on the bottom of a road winding up the hill, and if Ven cranes his head around his shoulder he can see the outline of a stately old house up there.

"What..." He breaths, pulling up a handful of grass and looking around wide eyed. "Where are we?" He can't help the question, looking up at his........captor? No thats not quite right. Ven hasn't decided to fight him to see if he could escape yet. If Ven lost, then he'd be a captor. Right now this is just...something.

Then finally, he decided to voice the one question that had been spinning in his head from the start. "Is this a test?"

[vapidus]

Vanitas is not prepared for the other boy to dig his heels in and likewise is thrown off balance with a yell. It completely failed to occur to him that anyone would find a dark portal scary - it just feels far too natural for that.

He ends up getting a face full of dirt and grass at speed, and nearly breaks his nose. After a moment of seeing stars he struggles out of the limb pile and stands up, rubbing it and trying to spit the taste back onto the ground before hurriedly scanning the surroundings. Behind him, absent his hold on it the portal has wisped out into non-existence.

"How should I know?" he says, still looking out, shading his eyes and squinting to see farther. Forest, okay. Town, okay. Odd mansion... could be okay. Maybe there's more weird narcissistic old men in it, he hopes not. Vanitas you made the portal, you should know.

That, at least, makes sense as a question. It's the second one that has Vanitas turning back to the other boy. "What? No. Why would this be a test?" In what world would someone murdering someone in front of you be a test? Vanitas isn't sure he wants to know.

[vacantis]

Worst. Kidnapping. Ever.

"You....brought us here?" Ventus says, managing to tear his eyes away from this beautiful world for an instant to look at Vanitas with slightly raised brows. This boy is talking like this wasn't a plan, which was a very frightening and uncomfortable prospect to Ventus. Master Xehanort always had a plan. What on earth were you supposed to do without one?

The whole situation is ludicrous if it wasn't planned anyway. Ventus can easily wrap his mind around like assassination or a test. Manslaughter, meanwhile, really isnt on his concept retinue.

Also I enjoy that Vanitas is still insulting Xehanort in his head, not ten minutes after he literally killed the guy. Legend.

Ventus' eyes had slid off of Vanitas and back towards the forest by the time the other boy turns to ask about the test question. Ventus blinks again.

"Dunno." He gives a half hearted shrug. "They don't always make sense." Ventus is just suppose to magically know the answers sometimes. The look hes giving Ventus now is still as blank as ever, but theres a dangerous intensity to it that wasn't there before, some unreadable charge building up. Hes considering a Violence. "Maybe its a test and you just don't know it."

[vapidus]

Be nice, it's his first time ever kidnapping someone.

Vanitas just still hasn't gotten over all the statues and portraits. Who does that? (Vanitas might). Good ol' repression is also coming through for him. He really doesn't want to explode into Unversed right now. It's easier to focus on other things.

Vanitas realizes it's a bit too late to pretend he has anything resembling control over the situation, much as Ventus would like someone to. "I wasn't being picky," he says, and then gets feathers rustled by the idea of being tested without knowing. That hits a little too close to a sore spot. "If it's a test then it's pretty clear I failed, ..." He realises he doesn't know the other boy's name and points at him. "Whoever you are." Vanitas's actions being a test for Ventus are just so nonsensical an idea to him it doesn't really stick well.

Vanitas senses the building charge but foolishly doesn't consider the other boy dangerous. As far as Vanitas knows, keyblade wielders are rare and most of them live where he does, did. What are the odds of some random kid he met being able to go toe to toe with him? He just killed someone.

[vacantis]

Vanitas given infinite money you'd probably have a full tile mosaic of yourself just to piss people off.

"Ventus." Ventus says, in answer of an unasked question. He doesn't ask what Vanitas name is, because he doesn't actually care or think its relevent for him to know. If he's supposed to know, he'll be told.

He shoots Vanitas' an incredulous look from under his shaggy bangs. Vanitas being tested? That wasn't what he'd been talking about at all. The boy was his age though. Did everyone his age have tests? Maybe it was a normal part of being however old Ventus was. He wouldn't know. He didn't love that he didn't know, but he wasn't sure he felt like asking. How would he even word it?

Ventus eyes the hand pointed at him with the same charged expression, deeply in thought. Attacking somebody he wasn't supposed to would be bad, and his unsurety of the whole situation is practically the only reason he hadn't immediatly attacked. On the other hand, if there was a danger, he should clearly attack it and a forign Keyblader with an unclear agenda felt Very Dangerous. It was certainly a kerfuffle.

"Are you going to kill me?" He asked calmly, calmer then how he'd asked where they'd been. Ventus didn't think it was a very odd question to ask, considering the circumstances. And it would certainly help his assessment of his current situation.

[vapidus]

It's true. Maybe one day...

Ventus sounds like a name Vanitas has heard before, but he can't recall where or when. Maybe he read it in a book. It sounds like an average name. He doesn't give his own because it doesn't occur to him. Not the sort of etiquette taught given everyone knew each other in the Land of Departure already.

"No?" Vanitas says vehemently and incredulously, like why would Ventus think that - a kneejerk response along the lines of being the first one asked if he smashed the broken plate in the kitchen. Then again, he's just done it, hasn't he? There's kind of no going back from that. That's why Ventus would think that. He backpedals a bit. "Only if you tell anyone about this."

[vacantis]

Goddammit Eraqus. Goddammit Xehanort. Socialize your feral kids properly.

Ventus isn't the best at reading faces, but Vanitas is so shocked at Ventus' question that it's hard to think of it as a lie. Shock like that is a bit of an odd emotion on some kind of cold blooded assassin, but Vanitas clearly has other orders dealing with Ventus, apperantly. Orders that become a little more understandable when Vanitas adds the second part.

Right, so hes a witness to an assassination, and had to be removed. Ventus may be sheltered, but he's not stupid. Usually this is where Ventus would assume he was going to be killed, but looping around to the start again; Vanitas had already said that wasn't on the table. So...clearly something else? Something he had to be alive for, at least for the time being. Something him attacking might jeprodize. Ventus relaxes an increment, his hands falling to his side from where they'd been unconsciously balling into fists.

"Oh. I don't have anyone I could tell though." He says helpfully. "I only talk to Master Xehanort. And you, I guess."

[vapidus]

Excuse you Ventus, Vanitas is perfectly capable of fucking up with no orders at all.

It's at this point Vanitas has to stop and just stare at Ventus for a minute because the adrenalin rush is starting to vanish down the drain and he's able to pay a little more attention to things properly, and one of the things is that Ventus is definitely acting weird, for someone he just murdered someone in front of and then kidnapped. Vanitas doesn't have any prior life experience on this, but shouldn't he be a little less calm? More pissed off? Yelling or something? The most there's been was hitting the brakes before they fell through the portal, and that intense violence aura that has faded a little.

He's actively being helpful. There's a prickle down Vanitas's back. He could kill Ventus and then really nobody would ever know, except Vanitas. He needn't have even kidnapped Ventus at all, just left him in that empty world with a corpse and nothing else.

Vanitas makes the reasonable jump that 'Master Xehanort' is the man he just killed. It's weird to know he had a name. Well, of course he would, but now Vanitas knows it. It also feels vaguely familiar, and the feeling he should know it is small but insistent.

"Master Xehanort," Vanitas says slowly and with a mounting horror, because he has only one context for that title. "Keyblade Master Xehanort?" This is the absolute worst way this day could have gone. He definitely can't show his face in the Land of Departure ever again. He thought this before, and was again so naive.

[vacantis]

Ventus stares back, cocking his head a little so his bangs fall out of his face. An empty expression that could have been chalked up to shock initially is lasting far longer then would be comfortable.

Literally try and fucking kill him Vanitas. It would clarify things greatly. He's still unsure if your an enemy or a new master.

"Yes." Ventus pushes himself up from the grass, stretching out a hand. "He was my Master and he had a Keyblade." He didn't know if Xehanort was especially good by the universes standards, but he was strong enough at it to be considered a "master" of the art to Ventus. He flexed his fingers and Wayward Wind came calling, feeling a bit odd as it manifested in his hands. Almost like it was tugging itself towards Vanitas. Ventus squinted at it, trying to figure out what on earth it was trying to say.

"...What are you doing?" He addressed it, with an odd undercurrent of genuine emotion. Wayward Wind was definitely Ventus's other conversation partner this last two years. Much more recepetive then Unversed.

[vapidus]

The headlines are already being written now: Area darkness creature gets turned into paste, locals baffled.

Vanitas finally realizes where he heard the name before - only once, because Eraqus had only explained what had happened to him once. The flash of light and keyblade appearing confirm it - this must be a new apprentice, the replacement for the boy that died to make Vanitas.

Vanitas isn't sure how he feels about any of this. He knows he is, because it's taking effort to keep his skin in place, but it's moving around too much to examine it.

"I'm not doing anything," he says before realizing Ventus is talking to his keyblade. That's weird. You're weird, Ventus. Eraqus and Aqua had talked about keyblades like they were alive, and it felt like the metaphorical friendship heart stuff that Vanitas wasn't the best at. Void Gear appears in his hand in turn, tip pointed at the ground, clean and free of blood, humming under his palm. The pupils of it's eyes are fixed on Ventus, even when Vanitas tilts it to look at the flat of it.

"He used to be mine," Vanitas says, and it has a question buried in it even he doesn't really know. Truthfully, Vanitas doesn't think about that boy much. It never goes anywhere, and he knows nothing about him. "Or something like that." What kind of Master was he? Was he like Eraqus?

Vanitas looks at the sky. It's sunset, which means it will be getting dark soon (oh you sweet summer child). If he's going to head anywhere to plan his next move (and get all the blood off his clothes), the old house on the hill seems like the safest bet. "We should get moving."

[vacantis]

Flattering! But actually I think Ventus and Vanitas would be fairly evenly matched right now. Ventus has more experience but also he hasn't even had a month of consistent meals yet.

"I'm not talking to you." Ventus says, still staring at his keyblade. He does lower his voice a little, but keeps talking. "Why him? Is he important?" The keyblade doesn't respond, but it never does, except sometimes, Ventus feels like it does, like it did listen, and it is saying something back, he just can't understand it.

It sort of feels like that now. The innate connection he feels to his keyblade hums with a tension he can't understand. It's not hostile, but he can't tell if its friendly either. It just exists, enough for him to grit his teeth over it.

"Huh." He looks up, nearly missing Vanitas' revelation, his eyes widening a little. "Wait...before me?" Xehanort had never mentioned a apprentice before him. Wayward wind lowers, and Ventus wonders if this is what his oldest companion is trying to tell him.

"If he's your master why would you kill him?" Ventus asks, lowering the keyblade a little even as he moves to follow Vanitas. He just can't keep the questions from bubbling up, no matter how rude and unnecessary he knows it is. He's never met another apprentice. "Are you mad at him for something? Did you live in Scala Ad Cealum to, or in the desert? Did you help with the Chi Blade also?"

[vapidus]

God he probably looks gaunt as heck. Does he fall over when he stands up too fast? That's not helping Vanitas's general subconscious unease.

Vanitas watches Ventus consult the Orb Keyblade with something like bemusement. "Yeah," he says. If Ventus doesn't recognize him, and he doesn't seem to, then it would definitely have to have been before. After all, Vanitas probably would have looked the same, right?

He isn't used to this sort of barrage of questions, but answers as he walks, tapping his keyblade against his thigh. "I didn't know he was. No. Maybe. What desert?" It's a pretty easy guess that Scala Ad Caelum must be the name of the world he just left. That he might have lived there... makes a little sense. It's weird to think about. If he had explored a bit more, would he have found a room that belonged to him? Did that one used to?

He actually looks at Ventus for that last one, because he hears 'keyblade' but it has a strange emphasis on it. "Help with what keyblade?" Like, forging one? (Not entirely off the mark there, Vanitas). Truth be told he never really thought about where they came from.

Unknown to Vanitas, little patches of darkness are already slinking through the grass between the trees. Heartless are rarer and weaker in this era, with the lanes sealed and actual Keyblade Masters extant and keeping an eye on things, but they do exist and in a liminal world like this one, a few can seep through the cracks of Yen Sid's gaze. Two keyblades in the same place is a little too much to resist, even if one is made of darkness rather than the light they crave. Ventus's heart of pure light, injured as it is, is also a rather attractive prospect.

[vacantis]

God probably. Enjoy your unease, Vanitas.

"The one with all the old keyblades." Ventus answers, because its the easiest to respond to. What the fuck is 'not knowing who your master is' hes gonna kill you. "And monsters."

Ventus jogs up a little further so he can make eye contact with Vanitas and gesture, swiping a hand to underline the utter importance of his statement "The X-blade. Like, kye?" How could anybody not know what the X-blade was? "It's the strongest keyblade in the world. I'm supposed to help make half of it." He trails off as he considers if that is still true. His darkness still exists, right... He saw Xehanort take it away at the start, even if he didn't really understand. He just doesn't know where it is. If he tracked it down, could he make the X-blade anyway? Should he?

In his distraction, he almost doesn't notice the heartless creeping up, and one making a lunge for him. Luckily, Ventus's reflexes are very well trained. Before he's even thinking about it, his leg has come up to stomp down on the heartless, crushing its squishy black body against the paved path before he stabs his keyblade through it. It goes down easier then an unversed, but Ventus doesn't know the difference yet. Must just be a weaker yellow eyed varient.

"Oh! This world has monsters to." He says, pointing at others approaching to Vanitas, with the same reguard one would for commenting upon weather.

[vapidus]

"Oh, then I've never been there," says Vanitas easily, like the unknowing liar he is. He doesn't remember anything like that place, even if 'old keyblades' is pinging something at the back of his brain. Vanitas you don't remember Scala or Xehanort either. "Never heard of that either."

You'd think Eraqus would have mentioned this so called "strongest keyblade", but maybe it just never came up. Or he didn't know about it. Or he didn't want Vanitas to know about it. Ordinarily the thought would rankle and it does, but in light of events not even an hour ago it also makes sense and he hates it.

One thing he did talk about was the Heartless, although always in the theoretical. Vanitas had never actually seen any outside of illustrations, unless he counted himself, which he didn't care to. For a second he expects to feel pain as Ventus suddenly and without warning utterly demolishes one, but there's nothing. It's not an Unversed.

(He did shadow-step a full meter back. He's going to pretend that didn't happen.)

Another shadow takes a swipe at his ankles. Vanitas's heart is darkness, but the little threads and veins of light running through the cracks in it are apparently worth a shot, even if Ventus is the greater prize. Vanitas hesitates a second, then smacks it into a puddle with an excited Void Gear, watching the heart it contained float up and away with an unreadable expression. Attacking the others goes more smoothly, although it's quickly very clear that Vanitas is more used to human sparring partners than actual combat or 'monsters'. He has trouble actually making an ice spell hit, and he keeps forgetting to guard his legs. He swears once or twice. Blame Terra for that one.

"What about the other half?" he says, as if belatedly continuing the conversation and not because it just occurred to him. If you wanted to make the strongest keyblade, you'd want all of it, wouldn't you?

[vacantis]

"Weird." Ventus says flatly as he easily summons an Aero spell to twist a few heartless together and slams them with Wayward Wind. The heart's popping out are new, but they don't seem harmful. They seem to be targetting him a bit more then the other boy. Maybe they have a grudge from the desert ones. Or something. He doesn't know.

He tosses Wayward Wind to intercept a heartless sneaking up on Vanitas' ankles, (who is somehow a meter away now?) the keyblade swinging back into his hand like a boomerang.

"Oh, that...?" Ventus sounds pretty unenthusiastic in general, but it jumps to a new level at that. "It's somewhere I guess. Master Xehanort took it away. It was weak and dying and making a lot of monsters. Looked like one to." He faces Vantias to push his fingers up under his eyes, to mimic the curling trail of a floods the monsters eyes. "It didn't have a face."

[vapidus]

What's that move? He hasn't been taught that move. (Probably because he'd immediately go and break things trying it out with various innocent objects acting as target practice. He's bad enough with darts). He's immediately jealous. You just know he's going to try it out later, where Ventus can't see his stuff-ups.

He's also somewhat jealous in general of how easily Ventus is doing this, almost like it's boring to him. Everyone else he knows at least has the excuse of being older than him.

Right next to each other on the five by five DnD grid!

Vanitas's initial reaction is along the lines of a flat 'what'. He asked about half of a keyblade, not some kind of animal, or ur-heartless...

It didn't have a face. In the middle of a group of heartless is the worst time to have a flashback, thanks Ventus.

He was suffocating. Under his emotions, under everything, running through him like a live wire, pouring out of him in a flood. Constricted, an animal clawing at the thing on his head, ripping it off but still couldn't breath, continuing to grab at a flat, flat surface, screaming, crying, yelling without input, word or thought, like there was something watching something else do it from a distance, a circuit closed in on itself.

He could see but what he saw did not make sense to him, impossible to parse. Hard, dusty rock. Flashes of dark colors. A blue sky. Meaningless. It's too much, and Vanitas loses the control over his emotions he had, the bottled jealousy, fear, anger, bitterness, horror, guilt, spite, self-loathing. It flows out and into shape around him, and Vanitas bites the inside of his mouth, tasting bitter blood.

Eventually he's able to focus on the blades on grass in front of him, empty and exhausted even though in reality it wasn't any more than a few seconds between Ventus's statement and his collapse. His mind feels like a spinning hamster wheel with nothing in it.

[vacantis]

If you'd like to switch universes real quick Vanitas and be the one with two years of battle experience here, be my guest.

Ventus was about to turn away from Vanitas to finish off the last few heartless with a shotlock when a strangled sound emerged behind him and he turned just in time to see Vanitas falling backwards and to his side, clutching his head. The heartless, sensing at least one of their prey was now a prone and easy target, switched tracks instantly. Ventus gritted his teeth, darting forward to grab Vanitas's hand and try and yank him out of the line of fire even as he writhed. What on earth was going on!

He dropped Vanitas a little roughly in order to focus the Shotlock he'd prepared, a salvo of bright needles radiating out from his keyblade to slam through the rest of the heartless like tissue paper. He put his hands on his knees with a bit of a sigh, closing his eyes a second before looking back at Vanitas.

He'd been about to voice some polite inquiry into the other apprentices health, when instead he found himself jumping back at the wiggling shadows that now surrounded the boy. Shock fades into horror, fades into realization as the first red eyes begin to take shape, and then something slots into place in Ventus's mind as the first flood comes tumbling out.

It's not even a conscious thought to raise his keyblade (which is humming with enough tension to rattle his teeth now), and blast a Firaga at it. It hits the flood head on, incinerating it with not care to the apprentice nearby. Ventus doesn't pay any heed to any reaction Vanitas might have had to this. He stalks forward with a purpose, methodically killing any unversed. Assuming this doesn't turn into some sort of horrible unversed loop on Vanitas's end (or even despite of that, if he gets bored of it)--Ventus finally turns, kicking Vanitas in the stomach as if that might dislodge any additional creatures.

"You." He says finally, and it encompasses more then his mind can really process. The boy he'd been tagging along with, the one who had killed his Master, with the inconsistent story and no memories and a face had been of course, all this time, the source and creator of the creatures that could only come from one thing.

"Empty creature. Are you...was this a game to you?" His voice hisses quiet fury. "Stringing me along with your plots." He draws a leg back to kick Vanitas again, harder. "Do you think I'm stupid? No wonder you killed the Master you, you--" He's so overcome with anger he can't actually find the words to express it.

[vapidus]

Vanitas does a whole-body flinch when the first flood is burnt to ashes. The restlessness pours into him and pours out again like a tide - even with his heart somewhat healed, disoriented as he is, as confused and in pain as he is, he can't get a grip enough to keep the emotions inside, stop them spilling out again, stop new ones being made at what is happening.

"Stop," he coughs out wetly, one hand grabbing the grass and dirt in a fist. "Terra..." Is he calling for Terra to help or is he in another time and place still? The last thing he sees is a keyblade. The last thing he sees is a keyblade, over and over again. He thought it had stopped. Some of the Unversed run. Some attack Ventus. They're cut down.

Ventus kicks him in the stomach and Vanitas sees stars and curls further inwards. His cough turns to retching and he turns his head and vomits blackness. He has enough spite to try and aim for Ventus's shoes. The spite tries to escape into physicality like the others but he clings to it and clamps down on it, forcing it to stay in his heart. With Ventus focusing on him, it's an anchor he can use to keep others, to bring himself into the present. He struggles to get up, and the second kick catches him in the side as he does, sending him back down.

He gets up onto an elbow and summons Void Gear in a block position, the tip digging into the grass as he leans his weight onto it for a second attempt at getting up, pushing himself away from Ventus. Ventus is talking, but the emotions make more sense than the words. Vanitas laughs, and it's kind of a horrible noise. This is something he pictured happening, in a rotten-tooth way, but not with a stranger. It's deserved, but he isn't going to literally lie down and take it.

"Wasn't a game," he says, blood in his mouth. He spits it onto the ground. It wasn't a game or plot. "It was an accident." His tone is stressed and testy. He doesn't expect Ventus to believe him, but if someone's going to beat him up he'd rather it be for an accurate reason. One arm is curled around his stomach and side.

ventus this is a lot of violences

[vacantis]

Pathetic pathetic pathetic pathetic. This came from him? This was him? This was the source of the creatures that had hunted Ventus for two years? It was so weak, a well fed trinity armor would have given him more trouble.

"Terras not here. Listen to me." Ventus growls, correctly assuming Terra is a name but not giving a shit. He's not just kicking or pushing Vanitas around for the sake of it you know, he's mad and he wants the other boy to pay attention to him.

Vanitas spits blood on his shoe and Ventus makes a kind of strangled sound and kicks at Void Gear, aiming for the blue eye in an effort to maybe make Vanitas crash down again. Die. Die and stop laughing. He wants to bash Vanitas's head in right now but he keeps talking and he still makes no sense.

"Oh. Then what." He balls his fists, staring down at Vanitas and trembling. "How can you accidentally ruin everything? Weren't the monsters enough."

it's always the small ones

[vapidus]

It hits Vanitas in that moment that he is probably going to never see Terra or Aqua again (despite this being inevitably false). He can't. Thanks, Ventus. He has to choke down another Unversed or two.

Void Gear's pupils narrow to darting thin black lines as Ventus kicks it. While the tip is pretty firmly in the ground, and Void Gear itself is surprisingly sturdy for something made of scrap metal held together by chains, sheer force of leverage sends Vanitas stumbling back onto his butt. His clothes are getting covered by grass burns.

"Everything? I just killed one man." Sorry Ventus, when he can't think of anything else Vanitas inevitably defaults to Asshole Mode. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

He knows Ventus mentioned a desert full of monsters but his perspective is inevitably skewed here - Unversed are harmless to him (unless he attacks first, but he never found that out). They haven't been a problem for some time.

[vacantis]

Terra and Aqua are just starting to wonder why your late for dinner Vanitas. They'll come. I promise ;w;)

Ventus, probably the no one anthromorphizer of Keyblades, ignores Void Gears "expression" and continues glaring down at Vanitas.

"I'm not talking about Master Xehanort!" He bites out, trusting Wayward Wind forward under Vanitas' chin. Or well he is, but thats not the pressing issue. "You. Don't you remember? You're the other half of the X-Blade, Vanitas. You took half my heart. You set all those monsters after me! What do you mean you don't know!"

In the midst of his shouting, a few of the more aggressive unversed have come crawling back around. A few leap up, grabbing at his shoulders and arms with claws and teeth and with a yelp, Ventus stumbles back.

"Get off!" He yells again, and his voice is tinging close to hysteria. This is a lot of emotions for one day.

[vapidus]

Let him be a dramatic teen and blow things out of proportion!! Although considering he did a murder, maybe not entirely out of proportion.

Vanitas's chin tips further up at Wayward Wind's tip, eyes craned down at it. When Unversed suddenly attack, he quickly kicks himself backward and finally gets to his feet, ripping Void Gear's tip out of the soil.

"No, I don't!" he shouts back, swiping his hand. He doesn't know. Ventus uses his name. "I don't remember any of it! What do you mean, half a heart?" He drives a thumb into his chest. "This is all mine, Ventus!" Even if it used to be someone else's. He's still missing one last connection here.

Vanitas thought the Unversed restraining Ventus was a good thing, but with his bearings back they're not stopping. They are doing their level best to harm him, and something ends up in Vanitas's throat. "Stop that!" he yells at them. Despite everything, he doesn't actually want to kill Ventus as well. They don't listen to him.

[vacantis]

What's a little murder in Kingdom Hearts Vanitas? Do you know how many people Sora killed?

Despite Vanitas's pleading (Which Ventus does hear, to his utter confusion and perhaps added anger), the fury driven Unversed do not back off. While Ventus appears to be off on a bad foot due to the surprise of the attack, holding onto his chest where a Bruiser's fist has most definitely broken a rib or two and a cut on his face making it hard to see...This is still all he's done. For two years.

So, it's wonky, but he does manage to shove his keyblade back into one, and kick off another, and start focusing magic to dispatch any of them in rage. It's not as clean a beating back as he gave the heartless or the starting unversed, but he manages to at least remove himself from immediate danger.

"You don't remember..." He finally said. HIs voice burning with unidentifiable emotion. "Did you think...you were just born of pure darkness from nothing? Nothing you have is your's, Vanitas!"

Everything is starting to hit him, really. Xehanorts death, Vanitas's reappearance. He doesn't at all feel like playing exposition to his own damn life, not right now, but apparently somebody couldn't even bother remembering their own failures.

"You're just half of me." He spat out, rubbing his long bangs out of his face. "That's the only reason you exist. If you can't even remember that then Xehanort should have just let you die."

[vapidus]

Why is it he's the evil twin and yet has a lower death count?

The Unversed are being whipped into a frenzy by the sheer amounts of negativity being released from hearts connected to them, in addition to acting to defend themselves and Vanitas and their nature simply as violent emotions. Even if Vanitas had been practiced in controlling them, reining them in here would be no easy task. Vanitas shudders and clutches at his chest as Ventus mows through them, leaning on Void Gear to avoid going down again. It's the sort of thing that doesn't get any less painful, and you can only just become used to the pain. It hasn't been this bad in months.

Sorry, Ventus, Vanitas isn't paying much attention to what you're saying, even if it's answers to a question he asked. A solid ninety percent of his willpower and concentration is being directed to trying to keep the Unversed in despite everything. Still, one thing manages to get through, and Vanitas's eyes widen and then narrow.

It doesn't help that most of those Unversed are in the general area of anger, and incoming ones are returning fat and fed with Ventus's own. Vanitas is absolutely seething beyond reason, in multiple senses.

"I said, STOP!" With a wide swing and a snarl, Vanitas sends the full weight of Void Gear crashing down into a Buckle Bruiser that was already making a start for Ventus. Even with molten flame trailing from the tip, one strike isn't enough to kill it, but it introduces a ripple of as close to confusion as Unversed can get into the group. There's a pause, as red eyes previously fixed on Ventus look between the three. The bruiser slowly turns to stare at Vanitas.

Vanitas is looking at Ventus, lifting his keyblade to point at him and opening his mouth to speak, which is why the punch takes him completely off guard. He actually kind of goes flying a little, hitting the ground shoulder-first. It's unclear exactly what he was trying to accomplish here, but what he's achieved is that they're now both under attack.

[vacantis]

Ok great, not only is Vanitas not listening to him, he's apperantly an idiot. Ventus actually feels his jaw drop a little as the Bruiser sends the other boy flying backwards. Really? He's so confused. Is Vanitas like, the most imcompetant villain alive, or is this some kind of test for him, or even worse, could he never control the unversed at all

Still, he clenches his teeth as Vanitas hits the ground hard springing into action despite himself. Even if Vanitas is the cause of pretty much every bad thing Ventus has dealt with, he's not going to let him just die to his own unversed and escape. Especially since Ventus needs him to make the X-blade. He doesn't stop to consider if he even needs to make the X-blade with Xehanort dead, the concept of creating it has been so ingrained into his self image to ignore it is unthinkable.

Ventus has no flash step of any kind thank you, seeing as he's the one not made of magic and darkness deciding it had a right to exist for whatever reason, but he manages to duck and roll under the throng of unversed enough to yank Vanitas to his feet by the collar of his jacket--none to gently and start booking it towards the mansion.

If there is one thing Ventus has learned during his time in a desert was if a group of unversed grew to large, sometimes it was best to retreat and deal with them from a distance. And no offense, Vanitas, but you weren't especially impressive with those heartless earlier.

"Are you stupid?" He growled back at the other boy as ran. "Why didn't you dodge? These things come from you--" He took a second to kick a smaller pot shaped unversed away and slash it. "--so shouldn't you at least be competent fighting them?"

the way to solve problems is to make more problems until you are dead.

[vapidus]

Two out of three ain't bad!

Vanitas doesn't take well to a reversal of the grab-and-haul situation, thrashing and doing his best to death-elbow Ventus before he actually realizes where they're going and that he isn't being attacked, at least by Ventus. He manages to keep pace well, thanks to the fact he does have flash-step and can slip out of a grip with it. Possibly he could make it to the mansion before Ventus, if he kept teleporting, but. Well. There's mutual yelling happening.

"I didn't know it would do that," Vanitas growls back. He jolts as the pot-Unversed disperses and sends him into an even worse mood. "I don't need to, I just-" It comes to him in the moment he says it. He has exactly two methods for dealing with the Unversed, repression and...

Vanitas turns while he's running and dismisses Void Gear from the hand that isn't dangling at his side. (Whatever he has as substitute for bones, they're very convinced they can be dislocated. It doesn't hurt, but in the fizzy and numb way that suggests there's a big 'yet' in there.) He slides to a halt and holds it out in the direction of the pack of pursuing Unversed, and braces himself for the fact this is going to suck. He usually only does this one at a time. He's not actually sure he can do this many. He never has before.

It's like inhaling, drinking, a long draught. Smoke or sludge. The Unversed collapse into puddles of increasingly fluid goo that race along the ground towards Ventus and Vanitas at speed. They disappear into Vanitas's shadow, flowing up from his shoes into him and vanishing, and Vanitas shudders, limp arm swinging with the motion.

He shudders again, and the more accurate word is convulse. He curls in on himself, teeth gritted, breathing rapidly through his nose. For a second, he stills, and it looks like whatever he was doing worked.

But Vanitas's battered and beleaguered heart and mind have reached their limit. With a yell of pain it all comes rushing out again, mixed with everything else that was already being held inside under high pressure. The darkness converges on one spot and starts taking growing shape - Vanitas had enough presence of mind to push it's formation a little out and away, or more accurately a fuzzy and instinctive revulsion, which is good because it quickly goes past the height of a Bruiser and with no inclination to halt.

Six large spikes flare out from it's back. A thousand metallic points shine in the dark and lengthen out of it to reveal their nature as blades - blades as feathers, blades as claws, blades as wings, sharp and clean and rusted and dented. Knives and swords and daggers, forming the insignia on it's chest. The Wingblade Unversed stomps a clawed foot and opens it's red-engraved beak, sharp fingers spreading. The screech that comes out is both loud and horrific.

Vanitas is still upright and on his feet, but it's through some effort. His skin is somehow paler and waxy, and he's panting. The giant Unversed feels like it's cleaned out everything inside of him, like he's skin stretched taut over something hollow. He looks up at it, mouth a little open and eyes wide, and then turns to Ventus with absolutely no change in expression.

At least they're only being chased by one Unversed now?

this is 2 many problems vanitas!!

[vacantis]

Vanitas' struggling manages to land a neat elbow in Ventus's ribs, making the boy let out a gasp. It's less of an exclimation of pain then just an involuntary outtake of breath, but the way the other boy stumbles before he picks up the pace again shows it hurt. He lets go of Vanitas during the struggle. Honestly, at this point, with his speed flagging, Vanitas could probably overtake him towards the mansion.

"Do what?" He hisses back before Vanitas actually stops, in another inexplicable display of stupidity. Ventus pauses a little ways away, loath to stop and turn around as Vanitas reaches out a hand and tries to absorb the unversed. He honestly wants to keep running, because to him the removal of the unversed isn't the removal of the threat. What if it makes Vanitas stronger?

Still when Vanitas convulses he can't help his half step forward, though he stumbles backward when this new creature emerges.

"What....?" Ventus looks like a soaked cat at this point, his long hair plastured to his face and sticking up at weird angles, framing his shocked expression. Ventus has no way of knowing he's looking at his own negativity, thrown back at him in a horrible shape. He just sees a danger. Vanitas looks at him with empty eyes and all the gears in Ven's brain shift to a stop. He can't rationalize anything about this situation. All his preconceptions are clashing with a dangerous and immediate reality.

Two win out.

1). Ventus is hurt and he wants to live.

2). He needs to create the X blade.

It's hard to run with broken ribs, but Ventus makes a terrific effort to pick up speed, grabbing Vanitas' clammy hand and yank him towards the mansion once more. Maybe it would have been smarter to just run himself, he knows the other boy can flashstep faster then he could ever dream but he knows the kind of shell shocked empty feeling on the boys face (what is this? an empathy? can he fight it?) and he's not waiting to see if he'll snap out of it in time.

The Windblade Unversed screams in rage, beating its razory wings. It's enough for the shock to send them flying a few feet forward and Ventus barely manages to roll on his shoulder, trying to continue dragging Vanitas along. Steely dark feathers crash around them as the bird prepares another assult and Ventus grimices as one crashes nearby, sending up painful rock and debris. Ventus definatly has more wounds now, but he is not counting and not paying attention to them.

"We need to get to the mansion!" He shouts. Cover will give him enough time to heal, and then, then, then he'll have to fight this, he guesses. He beat the remment, and this seems just as strong, maybe stronger, and maybe Ventus had time to prepare for the remment, fight it a few times and run off but he needs to defeat this Unversed, so he will. He has to. There's just no room for any other option.

it's just one problem... made of lots of little problems

[vapidus]

Vanitas doesn't fight the hand tugging him, stumbling a little before finding his feet. Okay, he's going this way, then. Right, they were doing that before.

Contrary to what Nobodies might say, thinking is difficult with a sudden dearth of emotion. It's the force behind motivation, so what's left is mindless observation, a ticker-tape record of events passing in and out.

Fortunately (or unfortunately depending on your point of view), Vanitas's state is temporary. The shockwave knocks him to the ground along with Ventus, the shrapnel thrown up by the feathers close behind. Pain arrives, followed by its partner, fear. With them comes a force of habit pressing down, like shying away from a hot stove, and the rest builds from there.

Vanitas's first coherent and most abiding thought is that he fucking hates how many times he's hit the ground in the last fifteen minutes. He nods reflexively in response to Ventus's yelling and attempts to drag him, hissing as his dislocated shoulder is jarred. The pain brings a little further clarity and he starts more actively participating in his own running away. The large blades that embedded themselves in the ground lift a little, which is the only warning before they rip themselves out, spinning in deadly fashion as they return like boomerangs back to their progenitor. Vanitas ducks to avoid getting a lethal haircut. He isn't even thinking of anything near fighting this thing right now - getting to safety is current top and only priority.

"No, really? Here I was thinking this was the perfect spot for a nap," he mutters in belated snark. Just the idea of using anything resembling magic makes his heart twinge in warning, but he runs a little faster and plants his good shoulder in Ventus's back before flash-stepping, sending them flying like the last ball of a Newton's cradle through the little clearing before the gates of the mansion. Behind them, the Wingblade Unversed utterly shreds a tree to woodchips on it's way towards them, and screeches again.

Vanitas scrambles to his feet with the speed of adrenaline and hurriedly summons Void Gear, pointing it at the chains entertwining the gate which rattle and then fall loose in what feels like agonizing slow motion, glancing wild-eyed over his shoulder back towards it. "Hurry, hurry."

HE WANTS ZERO PROBLEMS. ZERO.

[vacantis]

At least Ventus isn't kicking you down anymore? For now?

Ventus ignores Vanitas's stupid joke, because he has no sense of humor and also thinks everything Vanitas has ever done ever is stupid and unnecessary. Drawing breath to say that was unnecessary. Doesn't he have anything better to do?

Before he can ignore Vanitas harder to demonstrate his pure disdain, Vanitas shoulders checks him, making Ventus do one of those funny surprise exhales again. The force of the flashstep is absolute murder against his ribs, and when Vanitas stops there is no warning and Ventus can't manage to tuck his body in correctly, and he falls to his face with a crack. Ow. His nose.

Hurry, Hurry. Vanitas says but Ventus is staring dizzly into the dirt for the time being, pushing himself up a little to display a really tremendous bloody nose and dazed expression. He watches Vanitas blankly for a half second, before the Wingblade Unversed screams again and he remembers exactly why he has this much adrenaline in his system right now. The second the door is open he is barreling through it, not giving a second glance to Vanitas as he shoves it open and pulling out Wayward Wind as he runs--trying to lock it again. Vanitas probably got through at some point. Probably.

He manages to make it to the steps of the mansion before he collapses to his hands and knees, coughing. He'd probably throw up if he had anything in his stomach, but he ate yesterday, not that his body is complaining. Wayward Wind dissipates for a second, leaving his hands free as he tries to claw together the energy for a Cura, a green glow ebbing at his finger tips as he pats at his ribs. The monster might still be chasing them even here. He just needs a second to try and patch himself up. To breathe...he needs to breathe.

At one point he looks up for Vanitas, still gasping a little.

"What...on earth...?" Is all he can gasp weakly.

[vapidus]

Vanitas does manage to get in before the gate magically re-chains itself, thanks for checking asshole. He runs down the path, jumps over the steps and halts himself with the front door with a thud.

The gates buck inward and rattle as the Unversed hits them with another blast of air, and then it's full weight. It takes one of the six large blades from its back and holds it like a sword the size of a small aircraft wing, cutting across the gate and wall with a harsh slash. Somehow both hold.

Vanitas doesn't want to stick around to see if it can fly. As far as he's concerned, they won't be safe until they're inside the mansion proper, and Ventus is the one wasting time. Hurry up and heal, Ventus.

"Do I look like I know?" He says, for all that he made the thing. Unlocking the front door is the perfect excuse to look away from Ventus. Today has been a day of learning unpleasant things about himself and what he's capable of.

Vanitas has made less and less Unversed over time, but he knows it's specific recurring kinds that show up. He's never seen anything like this one before, and it occurs to him that at some point he'll have to take it back. He doesn't want to. He really, really doesn't want to. But he can't just leave it. Even leaving aside the issue of it trapping them in a mansion, the first person to attack it is going to end up like that tree. Anyone with eyes can see that it's dangerous.

Vanitas participates in the time-honoured tradition of making something future-Vanitas's problem and kicks open the mansion doors, elbowing his way through with the butt of his Keyblade. He stops one or two steps inside the foyer and gestures to Ventus impatiently. "Get in."

[vacantis]

Sorry? Did you say something? Who has the organs here? Your last shoulder check pretty much turned the consistency of his ribs to a Nature Valley bar.

Ventus has a very snarky monotone reply about how Vanitas is definitely the person who should know everything about the Unversed because he makes them but unfortunately he's distracted by the sound of the Unversed screeching and his own shoddy healing job. He pats at his own chest further, the Cura smelling vaguely of flowers Ventus has no context for. The warmth that blooms is a welcome relief, and he sighs.

"I'm coming!" He groans back, pushing himself up and wiping his nose on his (conveniently black!) sleeve. He stumbles the rest of the way into the foyer, letting Vanitas do the closing this time.

Once his eyes adjust its clear the mansion is a mess. He nearly trips over a fallen beam and all the portraits and walls are dark and smokey looking. A fire maybe? Or just age?

He knows they should continue to run but Ventus needs a little more time to heal thank you, and spotting a dusty run down couch in a room nearby, makes a beeline for it. He sits down again, fingers sparking as he makes another Cura spell and brings it up to his face, and then tending other wounds with a cold mechanical efficiency. The anger in his demeanor leaches away a little, but so does most of the emotion on his face. It's the same sort of blank faced composure he had when they first met, though its obvious the facade isn't nearly as complete. There's plenty Ventus has to be mad about right now, its just clear right now isn't the time to get emotional about it.

"Do I look like I know." He finally repeats, throwing Vanitas's words back at him as he stares over at Vanitas. "I'd actually be more interested in why you wouldn't Vanitas. You've made thousands of unversed, clearly. Why set something like the remment on yourself now." Yeah please explain that. What the fuck is your deal.

[vapidus]

You can walk off being boy soup, right?

Vanitas wastes no time shutting the doors and pointing his keyblade at them. Silver and black chains briefly cross the door in an X before vanishing into motes. He kicks the doors twice to test their hold and nods.

While Ventus makes a beeline for the couch, Vanitas paces around the foyer looking at and poking objects with Void Gear until the restless wound-up energy that wants to be Floods dissipates more naturally. Unlike Ventus, he feels they're decently safe in here as long as they don't go outside, and that helps a great deal, especially since he doesn't want to so much as look at an Unversed right now.

Ventus seems to have healing well in hand, anyway, the smell of flowers filling the air. There's not much Vanitas's meager-to-non-existent skill in the area could add to the party - he has the familiar urge to call Aqua over instilled by a year of occasional training accidents, quickly stifled by the remembrance she's not here. Vanitas's mind naturally shunts the thought and emotions associated away before anything can happen.

Finally, the room thoroughly inspected, Vanitas stalks over to where Ventus is, dismisses his keyblade, and leans against a wall, looking out into the foyer. He turns his head when Ventus speaks. The cold, dry tone feels... weirdly nostalgic, and definitely like he's being scolded by Eraqus. Vanitas doesn't appreciate it coming from someone who looks like a broom given human form, although it's debatable he would it coming from anyone at all. His eyes narrow.

First of all... "I didn't set it on anything, it was born pissed." Probably because it was made of a ton of Unversed he'd already aggroed (likely also because as Ventus's ire, Vanitas would naturally be a target of it). Ventus's statement of him having made thousands of Unversed isn't wrong - Vanitas hasn't been counting but he wouldn't be surprised - but something about it still rankles. "I've never seen anything like that before." Not even this 'remnant'.

Normally Vanitas is very fine with people assuming he knows more than he does, and equally reluctant to admit he doesn't. Here it's been nothing but confusing and aggravating. "Why, is it a surprise? You clearly have all the answers here, Mr. half-of-me." A lot was happening at the time but he does remember that. He also remembers being told Xehanort should have let him die. It's not kindly predisposing him to Ventus.

[vacantis]

Ventus doesn't really feel safe from the unversed, even here. In his experience there were either places that had unversed, or places without them and this world had rapidly switched from one to the other in the half hour or so since he'd arrived here. At best this was a temporary refuge, and Ventus wasn't getting his hopes up. Unversed always had an uncanny knack for tracking.

Of course, it was even harder to relax when the one and only person capable of making unversed was in the same room as him. As Vanitas locked the door and paced, Ventus watched him with the same air one would watch a ticking time bomb, or perhaps an especially hungry tiger. He narrowed his eyes when Vanitas came into the same room as him, but said nothing.

When Vanitas started to talk continued to stare at him like that, the same half empty guarded glare. A few times he opens his mouth to respond, only to shut it and scowl at the floor.

"Ok. Fine." He finally says, leaning back with a sigh. He glares vaguely at the ceiling as if it is to answer for all his troubles. "I thought I understood. But nothing you do makes any sense." He gestures vaguely with his hands, wishing for the comforting weight of his keyblade even though he knows its not worth the minute effort to summon it. "Here's what I know. Once upon a time Master Xehanort had an apprentice so useless at using his darkness that it had to be separated from him to be worth anything. That's you, by the way. I don't know what this Terra or whatever has been telling you. Or where you've been. Or how you got that face in the last..."

He trails off. He's not actually sure how long its been since they were separated. Xehanort hasn't told him. He scowls, glossing over it and hoping Vanitas won't notice. "....last whatever. Clearly you haven't gotten any less hysterical and useless. And you still make unversed." He jabs a finger at Vanitas. "I meanwhile stuck around, cleaning up your mess until you showed up and killed Master Xehanort." Ah, there is the aura of bloodlust again. It's restrained, but Ventus sure is angry now that he has a second. He was...Attached.

"Anyway. Thats...thats all." He grunts, leaning forward to stare at his hands. "I don't get if your a monster, or stupid, or trying to mess with me. But I'm not going to take it. The second I've rested I'm killing that thing." And dragging Vanitas back to the graveyard...but he's not gonna mention that.

he'd lose his membership

[vapidus]

"Once upon a time, two years ago," Vanitas serves back. "Xehanort's apprentice - I guess that's you - died in a training accident, and what was left went to live with someone else. That's what I know." He's not going to tell Ventus about the Land of Departure, with a defensiveness wrapped around the idea of it. Ventus isn't getting that much. Some 'training accident'. From what Ventus says, and from Ventus's continued existence alone, someone has been telling lies.

"That's your fault," Vanitas says. He was doing fine not making them until this disaster right now. He had it under control. Stop looking at him like he's a monster. He is. He forces himself not to twitch when Ventus jabs at him with a finger. Guilt is definitely a negative emotion, and he has to try and hold it's head down underwater because it's also not helpful right now.

"Fuck off," Vanitas spits. "I made it, so I'll deal with it. Stay out of it." He does feel a responsibility for it, and doesn't want anyone to become injured fixing a problem he made, especially someone who's already taken hits (who's already been 'cleaning up his mess' and isn't that a horrifying revelation), but his paler face belies the fact that this is also just a terrifying option. It's like if Ventus had declared he was going to break one of Vanitas's bones.

[vacantis]

"My fault?" Ventus says in what is almost a sputter. He narrows his eyes, replaying through the events again. The unversed hadn't shown up right until after Vanitas had started convulsing, which was about around when Ventus and himself had been talking and also when Ventus had....attacked Vanitas. In his conflicting rage he doesn't think he feels that poorly about it, he'd certainly do it again, and yet even so a bit of unfamilar guilt coils itself in his stomach. It's not like Ventus has ever attacked another person before. He just did it like he would an unversed he couldn't stand. Which Vanitas was right! So it was fine. It's not like there was a huge difference between attacking people and unversed, if they were going to hurt you. Except the talking part.

"And I'm not dead.' He tacks on, none of his inner turmoil showing on his face. Nope he's gonna keep looking mad because he Is Mad.

He leans forward to squint at Vanitas's rebuttal. Why did he look so frightened. "You don't actually care about it, do you? Like its your kid or something?" Its a valid question ok? Ventus has zero idea of how Unversed work. "Is that why you're so bad at fighting them? I don't think your little absorption trick will work and I can kill it you know."

he's not ready to be a father

[vapidus]

"Obviously," Vanitas says, since it handily acts as a reply to both. "I haven't made any at all in the past month," he elaborates on the first. There's a river of pride running through the sentence as he tips his head back. Like a workplace sign that counts the days since last injury - if Vanitas resented the sign being hung up there at all. "So clearly it's you." You and your dispensing of flashbacks. He was handling it until that tipped him over the edge. He kind of wasn't.

If Vanitas had been drinking, there would have been a spit-take. As it is there's the almost audible sound of his brain shutting down and having to boot back up again. "Wh- no. They're just..." Unversed. He hasn't thought about it in any greater detail - that term encompasses all of it. "Bits of me. My emotions. That run around. Ew."

His eyes narrow as he draws himself up. "What, you think I can't handle it?" He can't, but the problem with not entertaining thoughts so you don't make little monster-animals is that you well, don't think about them. "I don't care if you can kill it, it's mine." At least if he does it himself, he can brace himself. He doesn't want to be wracked with pain from nowhere without warning anymore. Not so soon after it stopped. He already couldn't hold it in the first time.

Outside and behind, there's the sound of what might be wingbeats, and then the sound of what is definitely something heavy landing on the roof, sending old ash and dust drifting down from the rafters. It can't see or hear or access them, with the old house standing up determinedly well to it's assaults, but it can sense them and their argument, and there's loud scraping against the tiles and another shriek of frustration.

[vacantis]

"Your emotions?" Ventus tilts his head a little, looking confused. Huh? He just kind of assumed they were Wayward Bits of darkness. He also didn't really take the time to think about the fact that Vanitas has emotions. It shouldn't be suprising, and yet he feels a little put off by this brazen admission.

"Ew." He repeats before prodding a little for a reaction. "If they're little bits of you thats still kind of like a kid though." Now he's just kind of being mean.

"You weren't very good at fighting them before." He pushes back, leaning away a little from Vanitas's outbursting and narrowing his eyes. "I'm just saying. You can't just say its yours and then not kill it."

He's not even really thinking about the people in this world (other people is a very forign concept, groups of them even more so). It's just obvious to him that if an Unversed exists, it has to go. He starts when the Unversed shrieks again, jabbing his finger upwards as if to say "see!"

"If you want to help, fine. But I'm not going to just sit here and let that thing dig us out."

[vapidus]

He has emotions every day of his life, Ventus! Ninety per cent of the time they stay in him, too. But they are also wayward bits of darkness when they don't.

Vanitas is unfazed by Ventus's continued needling, able to return fire with his footing regained. "Oh, so you have kids every time you cut your hair? If you ever do." It doesn't even look like you wash it, Ventus. Gross. Vanitas's hair has Sora's silky fluffiness rather than his canon grease-spikes thanks to Aqua's stamp of the concept of baths and thirty minute long showers that use up all the hot water - that last one is his own spin on it.

Vanitas looks up sharply, eyes widening, as the thing lands on the roof - dust from the rafters lands on them and he scrubs at them with a hand and an 'argh!', before turning his slightly watery glare on Ventus. Stop saying he's bad at this (even if that's an objective fact).

"You're the one who's going to be helping me", Vanitas says, jabbing with his own finger, which is the closest he can make to a concession here. The two are equally stubborn because that's apparently a neutral trait, but Vanitas has had to at least learn some conflict resolution skills, even if a lot of the time it's 'pretend I'm bored anyway/meant to do that'.

"Do you even have a plan?" Way to subtley disguise digging as an insult, Vanitas. But he would like to know what Ventus is going to do before he does it. His goal has shifted to 'get the killing blow'.