Machinations and Mesclun Greens

[caliginose]

Who: caliginose and tomodarishi
When: Late afternoon, before the sirens.
Where: Sector Five, in a lovely establishment called Chakra.
Summary: Master Xehanort has invited his former (or still current, if you want to be technical) pupil out to a friendly dinner. Yes. With no strings attached and agreements made to keep the evening violence-free.
Warnings: NONE other

Comments

[todomarishi]

[Terra's late

[caliginose]

[ In its own small way, it is a little painful to watch.

Did you teach them nothing, old friend? Did you think that locking them away would be to their benefit?

Even dressed as they are, he remains a stranger.

In a context such as this, Xehanort is not a cruel man. He does not laugh or put on a slim smile of mockery. This, as he sees it, is a deficiency, a trouble that Terra did not necessarily have to have. It was a Keyblade Bearer's prerogative to adapt and to blend but most importantly to tailor their own attitudes. Xehanort himself had neither changed nor acted in any way particularly different from his usual manner, but at most he was spared a glance or two before he was summarily forgotten.

Just an eccentric old man. Nothing more. ]

Ah, Terra.

I am happy to see you. [ Xehanort moves with deliberate slowness when he folds his hands on the table. ] You are looking well.

[todomarishi]

[The compliment, however mild, buries itself into its target like a sharpened blade, cutting clean through layers of hard-kept control and bringing a new scowl to the surface of his expression. The reaction is purely subconscious, a surge of emotion that soon cools enough for Terra to look away, scanning their booth and the decorations set up around it with the flat glare he'd first regarded Xehanort with. He keeps the man in sight at all times.]

I was told once that looks can be deceiving.

[Terra replies stiffly. He meets Xehanort's gaze again a moment later and holds it. It's too easy to imagine lunging over the table set between them, calling his Keyblade to hand. Being done with it here and now. The worlds would forgive him for breaking his truce. His friends probably would, too.]

What do you want, Xehanort? What am I here to talk about?

[caliginose]

[ How difficult this must be for you, Terra.

Has your rage truly taken such a hold in you? On the one side, it is something he could have expected, even predicted, but the time it would have taken to nurture such an overwhelming emotion...he's curious again, as curious and silently obsessed as he had been that first night, when he had glimpsed the awful rawness that poured off the young man in an endless torrent.

How he must struggle for control. ] When I originally sent you my invitation, it was purely for the sake of cordiality. I see so little of you or Ventus.

[ He steeples his fingers on the table, lowering his eyes as his voice takes on a grave tone. ]

But a new situation has arisen. I am certain you must have seen him, the Heartless that wears your face.