Xion swallowed as he stood, eyes drifting down to where her hands fisted in the edge of her night shirt. The clothes she wore to bed, soft shorts and a t-shirt she borrowed (stole) from Lea. She blinked her eyes to clear away tears to little success. At the least she contained her pitiful sobbing into soft hiccups. Tears fell irregardless of her will. She has explained and apologized for her actions, there was nothing left to do but pick-up the pieces of herself and flee with her tail tucked beneath her legs. If she was lucky Even would never speak of this incident again, but then against she already escaped punishment. Her fingers flexed in the cotton fabric of her shirt, frustration bubbling in herself.
She looked-up in time as Even reached down and plucked her off the ground. For a second she was weightless, held secure in his hands before perched in his chair. Xion sat awkward, confusion and surprise keeping her pliant to his ministrations. Violet silk fabric dabbed her cheeks and eyes, and Xion was allowing him to do it. The tears had finally stopped, leaving her trembling and hallowed out. In her lap, this time her hand clutched the neck tie, uncertain of what else to do with it. Or what else to do with herself as he knelt before her.
“Since the beginning,” Xion admitted. “When Sora lost his memory at Castle Oblivion, they started.”
It’s taken years but she now knew the full story. Naminé extracted Sora’s memories in Castle Oblivion and through Roxas they permeated into Xion. Not just any memories, the most precious ones, of his stupid childhood friend Kairi. She dreamed of the sea first, black and churning, it swallowed and drowned her till she awoke gasping for breath. Every night, till she feared sleep and her head ached. Now it was of Xemnas and Saix, Vexen with a cruel smirk, close calls in battles played on repeat to remind her to never trip up again. There were not nights when some phantom agony did not haunt her. Xion did not sleep, Xion passed out when her body exhausted. When she could not stand being awake and even the nightmares, were more preferable.
“When I lost my memory I dreamed of the Organization,” she leaned forward, arms wrapping around her mid section. Her eyes closed, voice softened, “And now it’s— everything, and I can’t take it anymore! I just want to sleep.”
still like stone in the way both even && vexen had only ever been while in deepest thought , he listens as though his own life depended on her answer . a crack in the mask appears only briefly when her eyes are already closed , with a subtle furrow to his brow && tension to his already thin mouth , at so simple a plea at the end of it all every accomplishment , glorious && horrible for him to live with , && he could not even manage to allow one of the most basic needs of survival to come easy to the girl sitting in front of him , who embodies most of them .
even remains silent for some many moments afterwards . && then he mumbles towards himself in a further display of pensive habit :
‶ of course . yes , of course . how foolish of me . ‶
&& raises to his feet , fingers bracing his chin , && free hand taking hold of pen && paper he did not need to search for in order to find behind him .
‶ dreams are still a wildly unexplored field of study , ‶ even explains as he scrawls out some manner of writing very quickly . ‶ but there are , certainly , leading theories for all manner of different questions they present us with . one in particular stands out to me as pertains to you ; that they are a way in which the mind completes thoughts , without the immediate interruption of sensory input . ‶
the pad of paper is flipped && his efforts continue , still without true interruption , but now with pause from time to time in which he presses the pen to his jaw or gestures xion’s way with it . the motions of his hand imply there are more than only words being placed down , && at this point he crosses segments out with little discrimination .
‶ for one with so few experiences of her own that the mind can draw information from then , it makes sense that it would merely re-use the same small sample of memories available over && over again to fill in the space . yes , in fact memories work so well for confining the mind && heart for that very reason . ‶
he seems to recognize that he is vocally threatening a tangent , specifically towards a line of understanding that vexen had such particular interest in , but he does not stop speaking . it is very possible that he cannot stop on either front by his own accord , as the two steady streams of consciousness play off each other by his own peculiarities . he can merely realign himself appropriately , as necessary , until he is caught up with the many thoughts that must be followed
‶ you have the mental && emotional capacity for a person that would have had many more years of life experience in standard development . least to mention the specifics of socialization with others in similar stages && . . . ‶
until that . there are few discovered forms of life which evolved more dependent upon familial bonds for survival than humans , are there ? he creates a new fresh page to write upon , && now the pace of everything has grown glacial in comparison . his hand is steady in creating something far more precise than what filled the past racing moments .
‶ other staple factors . the cause && effect of what you are going through appears to have at least one clear possible explanation to me , which implies the ability to influence it towards better results . with more experience to draw upon , your sleeping subconscious will not be so inclined to only re-experience the memories you would like to move beyond . ‶
what he finally turns to show xion is an exceedingly simple diagram . a series of boxes pointing to each other sequentially with arrows && labeled in a depressingly small variety of ways : sora’s memories && her memories of the organization && nothing else , filling her heart && providing the material for her mind to work with when she sleeps . && in company , empty boxes waiting to be filled . the simplest of building blocks , as any proper theory must be broken into to start with , && practically waiting for an equally simple solution to the equation involved .
he does not know how to ask anyone to trust him about anything , let alone her . the words do not even form properly in his mind . but she has provided even with a problem that she would like to be fixed , so he asks what feels right , accordingly :
‶ does my line of thinking seem sound to you , xion ? ‶
areudirty
theartofmadeline
origamiaround
stormborns
jacobvanloon
snowghoul
gummygunk
