logsinthenight | [ CLOSED ]

Entry tags:

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characters: bruce, riku, vanitas, ventus
location: museum
date/time: april 1 - 5
content: bottles of sand, some arguments most likely
warnings: vanitas...

[ He's still dwelling on it.

Even though he'd abandoned Ventus to the Invincible and whatever else was going on there, he can't get it out of his head. What's going to happen, now that he's here? Vanitas has made no secret of who and what he is. If Ventus decided to go out and blab to the whole town the reality of his nature, it wouldn't be that much of a blow. Unless some of the more self righteous idiots around decided to start some sort of witch hunt for him. After all, nobody but Ventus really knows just how dangerous Vanitas could be.

But that isn't what bothers him the most.

Riku tries to engage with him and he shrugs the other boy off until he gives up and leaves. He hasn't seen Bruce at all. The sensation of living on borrowed time has returned to him, the same fears bubbling up inside of him that had driven him to blows with Riku just weeks ago. Vanitas knows better than anyone how difficult it is to turn away from a very bright Light, and he doesn't even belong in it.

It leaves him brooding, sitting on the floor of the museum in front of Solis' statue, scowling into the dark— at least until all the Unversed in the room turn as one, an alert to something approaching the building. They don't react this way to Riku or Bruce, so he stands up and heads toward the foyer. ]

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[ By the time Ventus reaches the museum, exhaustion is starting to catch up with him. The nap he was forced into upon his arrival in Beacon was not nearly enough to make up for all the near-constant battling he'd done in the Realm of Darkness and then there's everything that happened upon finding himself here. It's a lot to take in and he hasn't sat down to actually process any of it. Which is how he prefers it — it's better to keep on moving, to keep busy — but it's starting to take its toll on him. Carrying an unconscious body for a fair distance isn't exactly helping matters much either.

But a stranger entrusted him with his safety and well being and Ventus isn't going to betray that trust. It doesn't matter how tired he is or how he didn't ask for this (not exactly, anyway), he's determined to see the request through and bring the young man to what Ventus assumes to be his home.

His steps have slowed considerably compared to when he started out by the docks and so it's a stark relief when he finally reaches the building; a strange and curious structure that he would like to get a better look at when he's not carrying someone on his back. Let them know I'm sleeping, the young man had said. That means there must be other people here waiting for him.

Ventus draws to a halt, a little out of breath, trying to glance around for these supposed companions in the light of the torch by the entrance. He calls out after drawing more air into his lungs to do so: ]

Hello? Anyone here?

[ Vanitas isn't very cautious at first blush. Some stranger showing up at the museum isn't really all that unusual, given the place is technically public property. Generally speaking Vanitas doesn't come charging out at them unless its for good reason— or they're mucking up the place. But he's been somewhat hyper vigilant ever since the green-eyed spirits kidnapped people from their beds.

It isn't like Vanitas could do anything to stop them if this was the case again, even with the warning from his Unversed— but there's something about looking danger in the face, instead of having it creep up on you.

So he isn't outside when he hears that voice float through the open window— and he feels himself bristle all at once. His eyes narrow and his chin drops. He gave this clown a free pass earlier, but he hadn't expected him to narrow in on the museum so quickly. Was it Riku's doing? He's contemplating sending a group of Unversed out to get rid of him when one of them leaps up into the open window, it's lantern-like tail tipping back and forth, making a noise like a bell.

Annoyance gives way to suspicion and Vanitas descends the internal stairs to push open the front door. ]

Get lo... [ The words die on his lips, because while Ventus is unmistakable for a variety of reasons, it would be impossible for him not to spot Bruce over his shoulder. Ventus is short like him, and Bruce has a good five inches on him. His whole expression wipes clean of annoyance and what little color Vanitas has in his face drains. ] Bruce?

[ A shifting of shadows catches the corner of his eyes and Ventus finds himself glancing up and blinking at a silhouette in one of the windows. It's hard to make out with what little light there is, but it looks like a... cat? Something feline-shaped lit by a very dim light either way. As Ventus tries to squint at it, he hears movement from behind the door that redirects his attention back to it, tentatively hopeful that the stranger's companions are home and he can be safely delivered so that Ventus can go back to searching before exhaustion really gets the better of him.

As the door is pushed open, there's a split-second of relief — a hope realized — until he sees who comes walking out. For the second time that day (night?) his other half's presence catches him by surprise entirely. ]

Vanitas? What are you— [ doing here? The words die out much in the same way that Vanitas' snap does as his other half falters and utters a name with what must be recognition of the form on his back. ] You know him?

[ Ventus finds himself immediately puzzled for various reasons, but one that stands out is Vanitas' expression. It's such a strange thing to see him go pale like that. Ventus has only ever seen something similar to it on his other's face when the x-Blade was shattered. Could it be that he's... worried?

He promptly remembers what he was supposed to say. ]

Don't worry, he's just asleep. He asked me to bring him here.

[ The explanation hasn't even begun to leave his lips before Vanitas is moving down the stairs leading up to the threshold. He looks almost angry, but it's really a fierce spike of terror. After what just happened... it's still fresh in his mind how relieved he had been Bruce hadn't been hurt.

Behind him, a few Floods creep out, though its difficult to tell what draws them. At the rear, the one in the window appears, unnaturally tall, it's half the size of Vanitas himself and doesn't leave the museum. It just watches, two bright gold eyes in the shadows. ]

Give him to me.

[ It isn't a request, and he doesn't stop to consider Ventus' state, if he is hurt or why he might be tired. His focus, apparently, is entirely on the young man on Ventus' back. He's already reaching for Bruce before Ventus has even begun to try to acquiesce to the demand. ]

What happened?

[ Although their previous interaction had been the most civil one they've ever had yet, all his experiences with his other half that came before it have left Ventus with a wariness that automatically sets him on edge at Vanitas' swift approach. It's hard not to be when Vanitas moves with agitation and the Unversed make themselves known behind him, spilling out of the museum. Among them one he's never seen before. Ventus' eyes flick from Vanitas to the Floods to the unknown type and then back to their origin making his approach.

Ventus tenses uncertainly like he might take a step back and move out of reach, caught between caution and confused curiosity. He's not exactly inclined to give Vanitas what he wants when in the past what his other half wanted never meant anything good for anyone but himself.

But he knows Vanitas has changed and the single-minded focus on the young man — Bruce — on his back doesn't strike him as threatening. Vanitas seems genuinely alarmed and worried about him. So Ventus lets him take the sleeping figure, knowing that he can't hold on if a fight happens anyway. He'd be more prone and vulnerable if he kept holding on. With his hands free, he'll be able to summon his Keyblade if necessary. So long as the Unversed don't come for him, he doubts it will be though.

He straightens and wipes the sweat off his brow once the weight has been taken off his back, ignoring the dull ache making itself known in tired muscles after carrying someone who's bigger than him and their supplies with him as he explains. ]

The boat came with bottles of sand that put you to sleep and trap you in dreams of this place's past. He wanted to try it after I explained what they did and how to get out of the dreams.

[ It's good Ventus doesn't resist passed that initial tensing. Between the pair of them, at least in that moment, Vanitas had the upper hand and he would have pressed it violently if it came down to it. He knows how freely Ventus and his type will just help strangers, and it wouldn't be beyond reason for Ventus to assume he has some ill intent toward the person he's holding — but Vanitas would have knocked him out to get to Bruce.

Yet for as vicious as his tone had been, his hands tell a different story. When he takes Bruce from his other half it isn't violently, and he gathers the young man off his back and to embrace him against his chest. He holds his limp figure like that for a moment, one hand on the back of his head. It's self soothing, he can feel Bruce breathe against his neck, and while that doesn't mean he's unharmed by any means it also tells Vanitas that he's alive.

The explanation does leagues to transform the tight expression on his face. The annoyance returns but it comes with a wash of relief. Ventus, predictably, wouldn't lie about this. ]

Idiot.

[ He means Bruce, though it would be easy to assume otherwise. He shifts his weight, putting his shoulder under Bruce to lift him in a fireman's carry over his shoulder, turning around to march back up the stairs. Immediately, the Flood swarm forward to pick up all the supplies Ventus had been carrying, too. They move too quickly for Ventus to really be able to respond, snatching bags lightning quick and racing back up into the museum.

When he realizes Ventus isn't following him at the threshold, he turns just enough to snap. ]

What are you doing? Get up here!

You need to tell me everything.

[ There had been many tells of the changes Vanitas has gone through that Ventus glimpsed before. From his clothing to his vulnerable demeanor, the way he behaved, down to the simple fact he didn't attack Ventus on sight. Those had been so very telling. However, none of those come close to displaying the stark difference as effectively from the Vanitas he knows than in how he handles Bruce's sleeping body. Ventus has only known Vanitas' hands to bring forth destruction and pain. Now he cradles the young man close with the kind of tender care one reserves for loved ones, a care he wasn't sure his other half would be capable of.

Ven can't help but stare, almost gawking.

Vanitas really did make friends and he's too busy turning that thought over in wonder to care about whether the insult is meant for him or not. Vanitas picks up Bruce to carry him up the stairs and Ventus doesn't even have the time to consider what he wants to do — follow just to make absolutely sure that Bruce will be okay or leave because the display just now told him enough and Bruce must have meant Vanitas to be included in "them" — before the Floods move in.

He thinks for one tiny dreadful moment he's about to be swarmed, arms belatedly lifting up on instinct to either cover himself or call upon his Keyblade. Only the Floods don't touch him at all. They grab the stuff and dart away, leaving Ventus frowning in their wake.

Vanitas' voice causes him to look back up and then his expression promptly turns flat and unimpressed at the command. ]

Thought you wanted me to get lost.

[ The urge to turn around and leave just to spite Vanitas is strong, he's too tired to keep dealing with him for long, but one look at the prone body hanging off of Vanitas' shoulder and Ventus is ascending the stairs with a sigh. ]

And I just did. There's not much more to tell. He never even told me his name, just asked me questions and then grabbed a bottle.

[ If Ventus did take off, it would be frustrating but not a surprise— but mostly, what Vanitas is counting on is that insufferably bleeding heart of his. This incessant need to help others, make sure they aren't hurt. He has no doubt that Ventus probably has some notion he'll spirit Bruce away to do some unspeakably cruel thing to him— really, a year ago, he wouldn't have been wrong— but he still doesn't turn back to the musuem until he sees Ventus' shoulders sag. ]

That's because who you are doesn't matter.

[ He shoots back, derisive. ]

One look at your stupid face and he probably knew you would never say no to someone in need.

[ Probably not the best start to getting information out of Ventus, but he can't really help himself. The dichotomy inside him, equal parts wanting to attack Ventus and wanting to be aware of where he is at all times, isn't something Vanitas knows how to deal with just yet. This is easier: routine.

He pauses at the foot of the grand staircase, one boot on the bottom step. Once again he turns around to look at Ventus, pinning him with his stare. His eyes track him, like he's making a last minute assessment. He can handle Bruce, and if he's really just sleeping he won't need any help. But besides that— he feels abruptly defensive. He doesn't want Ventus to see Bruce's bedroom. ]

Wait here like a good boy.

[ Something about the shift of the shadows suggests that the undelivered threat of the Unversed might do something about it if he tries to leave through the door he just entered, even though it's still hanging open behind Ventus, casting torchlight into the foyer. Then he turns around to finish his trip up to the second floor. ]

[ Ventus glares at his other half's back though doesn't bother arguing back because... well, loathe as he is to admit it, Vanitas isn't entirely wrong. He can't say no to someone in need and perhaps the young man had been able to tell somehow. Or maybe he just trusted Ven right off the bat. It doesn't really matter whichever the case might be, he'd gone along with the request because it was the right thing to do which is what he's always been taught to do by Master Eraqus and what he wants to do. Vanitas can be derisive all he wants about it, Ventus feels no shame in being kind; in doing whatever his heart dictates he do. For all that's befallen him, he doesn't feel like it has steered him wrong yet.

That said, Vanitas isn't exactly doing much to make Ventus feel like sharing whatever other information his other half wants out of him. He still has half a mind to turn around and leave and not give Vanitas the satisfaction of bossing him around when he has no right to do so. Yet he still follows Vanitas for a second time, trailing after him until he suddenly stops. He raises an eyebrow as they stare at one another until Vanitas comes to some kind of decision.

Ven doesn't like it. ]

Stop telling me what to do.

[ He retorts, sullen and defiant, even though he doesn't immediately make any move to follow Vanitas, lingering at the bottom of the staircase. The way the shadows twist in an unspoken threat isn't lost on Ventus and he somewhat regrets stepping inside the museum then. He still doesn't feel entirely comfortable letting Vanitas just take Bruce either, but when he thinks of the way Vanitas held him and how the familiarity between them is undeniable, it's easier to let them go. He's too tired for a confrontation and he figures one is as likely to happen when he follows as when he tries to leave.

He could wander off further into the museum if only to defy Vanitas a bit, there's already more than plenty of stuff that's tugging on his curiosity around him, but ultimately he ends up moving to the staircase to take a seat on the steps. Stealing a moment of rest to recover from the trek, he rolls his shoulders and warily keeps an eye on the shadows for Unversed.

It's a vigilance he means to uphold, but at some point he ends up more slumped over, arms resting on his knees and his spine and head bowed with the weight of exhaustion and everything that he's been outrunning pressing down on him. ]

[ He almost expects Ventus to follow him, just because he's that sort of impulsive person. He had little reason to trust Vanitas' word, because while he's never lied to Ventus before now, his intent has never aligned with anything that guy has ever wanted. Even the way they parted on the battlefield wouldn't lend to any other sort of thinking.

He doesn't appear, but Vanitas stays keenly aware of his presence, even a floor apart while he takes Bruce to his makeshift bedroom to deposit him on the bed. Vanitas takes the time to make sure, for himself, he's okay. He checks his pulse at his throat the way Bruce had showed him, he pushes up his shirt to make sure there aren't any injuries hidden underneath. Satisfied, he straightens up with a thin exhale, feels a rush of relief flood out of him, quite literally with the Unversed that appears at his ankle and crawls under the bed.

He touches the top of Bruce's head, the same action Riku had done to him before when he was feeling unwell, before he leaves the room to head back downstairs.

That Ventus isn't just still there, but almost exactly where he left him is a surprise. He cocks up an eyebrow but doesn't hesitate as he descends. It's clear he's exhausted. A kinder person would give him the moment to rest, but as he passes Ventus to get back on the main floor, he has to quell the urge to kick him in the ribs to draw his attention.

Instead he stops a small distance away, crosses his arms over his chest to look down at his lighter half. ]

Haven't you had enough of napping?

[ His eyes grow so heavy that they might as well be fully closed, sight narrowed to very thin slits that are blurry and green in the glow of his lantern. Although he's not looking, he still keeps a keen awareness of his surroundings, sensing and listening for anything moving in the shadows should the Unversed try to strike while he sits and rests. It's not something he has to actively focus on at this point, the hyper vigilance has become a habit after all the relentless chasing of the Heartless.

Ventus tries — and probably fails — to keep track of how long Vanitas is gone, just in case it takes too much time and Ventus has to go see what he's doing. It's a hard thing to do when his time in the Realm of Darkness has left his perception of it completely skewed. He doesn't think it's been too long though when he hears Vanitas return and descend down the stairs.

Ventus doesn't look up right away, both because he's not about to give his other half the impression that he's waiting on him hand and foot and to steal as many seconds of stillness as he can before he has to move again. He still has to go back and look for Riku, he's going to need every bit of energy to keep his forward momentum going. So it's only when Vanitas has moved past him, coming to a stop a few steps away and throwing a question his way, that Ventus lifts his head to regard his darker half through heavy-lidded eyes and a blank expression. ]

I have. [ A calm and matter-of-fact admittance. ] Doesn't mean I couldn't use one right now.

[ He hates the thought of losing more time to sleep, but at the moment it has its appeal; the only refuge (and prison) he possibly has left to escape to. And he's dead anyway, so does it even really matter? Probably not, but he still has some things left to do. Which is why he straightens, sitting more properly as he lets his hands fall into his lap. The bone-weary calmness remains lingering on his face when he speaks up. ]

What do you want to know? The dreams aren't bad ones and your friend knows the way out, he'll be fine.

[ He doesn't know how Ventus arrived here. Doesn't know that he'd been in the Realm of Darkness, or that it was that selfsame Darkness that overwhelmed him. He can conjecture what he was doing, if his ability to piece together a puzzle is anything to go by. He still has that memory of Sora, finding Kairi and giving himself up to oblivion. He knows Riku was looking for him when he ended up here. It's no stretch to think that Ventus had been doing the same thing.

When he straightens up, Vanitas uncrosses his arms, leaving them loose at his sides.

It's surreal, to be standing across from Ventus like this after so long. Even though they'd spoken not long ago, it still makes him feel strange to be looking into his eyes, to feel that something where previously, there had been some gaping, hemorrhaging wound inside of him, unhealing. A tether snapped. He has this bizarre desire to walk over and grab him by the shoulders, to make sure he's real, even though all signs point to the reality that he is. ]

You don't know the first thing about what makes this place bad.

[ He retorts too quickly, cutting, before seeming to reel himself back. That hospital... it's still too close. Vanitas is no stranger to pain, but even he can feel that something in him is just a little bit off kilter. Like the axis of a globe shifted just an inch to the right. ]

What are the bottles? What did you see in the dream?

[ The too fast response makes Ventus raise his eyebrows slightly, though he doesn't actually question or refute it. The disheveled, injured state that Vanitas had met him in had already spoken volumes of how bad this place can be if it reduced his darker half to that. He only just got here and read enough to get the basics of the place down, he can only guess what kind of horrors this world might have in store from things he inferred. How the retort is practically a snap tells him that Vanitas likely won't talk about it even if he asked, a wound clearly still too raw.

So Ventus focuses on the questions Vanitas asks. His other half had been helpful in his own way before and Ventus gets that he's worried about his friend — and he did take notice that Vanitas didn't deny that Bruce is his friend just now — so he can tell him this much in return. He draws in a big breath and releases it again in a small, soft sigh before he begins answering. ]

When I got here the boat was carrying bottles of colored sand that exploded when you tried to touch them. I'm guessing the sand in them might be enchanted? They were really pretty. Bruce took some pictures of them so he can show you later.

[ It had seemed strange at the time, but now he gets why the young man might have taken pictures. ]

In the dream I saw this place— Beacon? Back when there was sunlight and more people. They all wore strange masks and they couldn't see or hear me no matter what I did.

[ The more Ventus talks, the more his voice slips into a calm, even cadence. He's gotten used to talking in the Realm of Darkness, filling up the silence whenever he noticed Aqua and Terra struggling and withdrawing into themselves to distract them; turning himself into an anchor point. He's not even aware he's doing it as he continues on to describe the scenery more. How each season could be found in a different section of the town, the small festivities everywhere, all the food up for grabs. He describes, too, how to leave the dream via the taxi vehicles.

All in all it doesn't paint too bad a picture compared to the oppressive Darkness in the current Beacon. There are worse dreams to have.

Ventus finishes with a mild shrug and a: ]

You could try one yourself.

[ Ventus starts talking, and then he doesn't stop. The words keep spilling, spinning out an easy tale of everything he'd seen, lacking the kind of bright animation Vantias is accustomed to seeing from a Guardian of Light. If Vanitas is honest, he didn't expect Ventus to give him so much detail— but the longer he goes on, the more familiar the moment feels. Not because he and Ventus have ever held a conversation, they never have, but it's something else. Something he can't quite put his finger on. Something that feels like that memory opal Riku had returned to him: ancient.

It's like reading back from his own diary, if he ad one. Vanitas could almost fool himself into believing he'd been on this journey himself.

When Ventus finally finishes speaking, quiet unfolds between them. Vanitas watches him for a moment longer, his eyes carving over Ventus' calm and tired expression, before he turns away from him, pacing across the floor in thought. ]

You didn't learn anything from it, then. The spirits weren't even involved.

[ It sounds like he's puzzling something out to himself more than he's talking to Ventus. ]

[ Maybe it's as much a newly gained habit as it is an excuse to stay seated a little while longer while distracting himself from all the things trying to catch up with him, but Ventus doesn't mind painting Vanitas a more vivid picture of the dream. As awfully lonely as it had been at first until he ran into other dreamers, it actually was nice to have sunlight and really good food for a while. He'd almost forgotten what that was like. He might only ever have those things in dreams now.

Silence falls between them when he finishes, neither particularly heavy or tense, but still palpable as he stares back at Vanitas evenly. And then it breaks as Vanitas turns and start pacing, speculating aloud probably more to himself than he's addressing him.

Ventus responds anyway. ]

I don't know this place well enough so I don't know if I missed anything important.

[ Talking with Bruce gave him the distinct impression that he might have. It doesn't help that he hadn't had any information on Beacon at all when he'd first stepped into the dreams, completely ignorant about his whereabouts as he was, so the significance of this past had been lost on him entirely. It still doesn't mean much to him, but perhaps the young man who'd trusted him will be able to get something out of it. ]

Your friend thought it was interesting enough to go take a look at least.

[ That's the second time he's dropped that little word, and it has the same effect if rubbing the fur backwards on a cat. Vanitas bristles as he turns around, glaring down at his seated other half. ]

He's not my friend. He's...

[ But even as he says it, despite the fact he's said it so many times before, this time it tastes like a lie in his mouth. Vanitas only knows what a friend is because he's seen the relationship between other people. Ventus and Terra and Aqua, Sora and Riku and Kairi. Mostly, he knows how you can use friends against one another.

Maybe in some way, it's like if he keeps denying it, then nobody will have that leverage over him. But the truth is that Bruce is something, and whatever that thing is, it's important. Enough for Vanitas to be worried about him, enough for him to be afraid for him, enough that he didn't walk out after he found out Bruce had been drugging him to sleep.

But Ventus is the last person he's going to tell that to, and both his fists clench at his sides. ]

He's a detective. This is just what he does, sticking his nose in things he shouldn't be sticking it in.

[ There is the reaction Ventus had been expecting the first time around. Vanitas wheels on him with a glare and Ventus meets it with a raise of both eyebrows, unfazed by the reaction and unconvinced by the denial and subsequent faltering. The way Vanitas handled Bruce's sleeping body already told him more than enough when Ventus has never known Vanitas to treat anyone in a way that wasn't either violent or callous. How his other half trails off speaks volumes, too.

Maybe Bruce isn't a friend, exactly, but it's obvious that he's significant to Vanitas in some way or another. Something like friends or family, precious and dear even if the bond hasn't been given a name (yet). Ventus would recognize that anywhere. It's the foundation that he managed to build himself back upon. He couldn't have done it without the care of Aqua, Terra, and Master Eraqus.

And really, Vanitas' defensiveness only makes him all the more sure and so Ventus doesn't let it go right away, even if he's a little curious about the detective thing. ]

Isn't he? Could have fooled me.

[ He isn't smug or sly about it, there's just a knowing glint in his eyes before he finally forces himself up on his feet. With Vanitas already thrumming with tension — fists balled by his sides — Ventus doesn't really care to push the matter any further than that. He's got better things to do than to get into a fight with Vanitas over this. It's enough to know that his other half might have found friendship for himself, to get a little bit more context as to how he might have changed so drastically.

Instead he merely stretches himself out before plainly asking: ]

Was there anything else you wanted to know?

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[ CLOSED ]

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weh king... (/ω＼)

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lkghsgf ilu

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[ CLOSED ]

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weh king... (*/ω＼*)

https://i.imgflip.com/3vlrfa.jpg

lkghsgf ilu

(･ω~)♡

(●´□`)♡

no subject

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weh king... (/ω＼)