"Why should you bother with telling me things I already know?" Zexion motioned dismissively with his hand, shaking his head as Ienzo countered him with hackles raised, impassioned in ways that the Nobody envied.
"Master Ansem may have been king and teacher, guardian, and you certainly did disobey him like an ungrateful brat... but he was never truly the fatherly figure he tried to be, was he?" He argued, more scornful than mournful of their late master. "You thought him an inattentive old fool."
"You didn't even want to want a new family, did you?" Another acute reading between the lines, accusing, slipping off the shelf as he followed a step closer toward Ienzo's retreat, then two more. "In every children's story, an orphaned boy was ripe for destiny, and would lead a life rich with adventuresome prospects. You didn't want to belong here, if it meant being coddled and spoonfed ideals. The cost did not matter. At the time, you did not think what you had here was as valuable as all the potential Xehanort saw in you, and intended to make immediate use of."
His hands come bracing to Ienzo's shoulders, as he does not really mean to be particularly cruel, even if he is trying to mirror the exact situation that made Riku retaliate and emerge surer-footed for it.
Only this time something does soften in his eyes, the twisted-round, narcissistic affection a Nobody can only hold for his own heart.
"I want you to go forward, and thrive." He replies, sobered and severe, his gloved hands bracing on the labcoat, almost clinging in matched desperation. "I want you to wield every dark thought harbored in your heart like a knife, stride back into the light and brazenly face anything that dares to keep you from growing."
"Indeed, lately you've been feeling such profoundly terrible things, have struggled with such an onslaught of overdue emotion, that you've allowed your heart to sever itself partway instead, when you surrender your waking body to me."
His mouth curls up on one side, and his expression wears very strangely, more of a longing simper than a smirk. As if sensing the need for distance, Zexion withdraws a step, lowering his arms in resignation.
"We can't keep doing this, Ienzo. I don't exist anymore."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2015-09-03 01:57 am (UTC)"Master Ansem may have been king and teacher, guardian, and you certainly did disobey him like an ungrateful brat... but he was never truly the fatherly figure he tried to be, was he?" He argued, more scornful than mournful of their late master. "You thought him an inattentive old fool."
"You didn't even want to want a new family, did you?" Another acute reading between the lines, accusing, slipping off the shelf as he followed a step closer toward Ienzo's retreat, then two more. "In every children's story, an orphaned boy was ripe for destiny, and would lead a life rich with adventuresome prospects. You didn't want to belong here, if it meant being coddled and spoonfed ideals. The cost did not matter. At the time, you did not think what you had here was as valuable as all the potential Xehanort saw in you, and intended to make immediate use of."
His hands come bracing to Ienzo's shoulders, as he does not really mean to be particularly cruel, even if he is trying to mirror the exact situation that made Riku retaliate and emerge surer-footed for it.
Only this time something does soften in his eyes, the twisted-round, narcissistic affection a Nobody can only hold for his own heart.
"I want you to go forward, and thrive." He replies, sobered and severe, his gloved hands bracing on the labcoat, almost clinging in matched desperation. "I want you to wield every dark thought harbored in your heart like a knife, stride back into the light and brazenly face anything that dares to keep you from growing."
"Indeed, lately you've been feeling such profoundly terrible things, have struggled with such an onslaught of overdue emotion, that you've allowed your heart to sever itself partway instead, when you surrender your waking body to me."
His mouth curls up on one side, and his expression wears very strangely, more of a longing simper than a smirk. As if sensing the need for distance, Zexion withdraws a step, lowering his arms in resignation.
"We can't keep doing this, Ienzo. I don't exist anymore."