Vexen might have expected the Replica Project to be a hassle. Not because it had been delegated to him directly- by this point, everything was, and where had all the respect for elders and scholars gone- but because, well…
He thumbs through another page of the essay on the properties of whatever it was, annotating in the cramped margin with lettering that was swiftly devolving into something unreadable even for him. Around Vexen, the desktop was cluttered with piles of books and the ancient computer with all of the Radiant Gardens data and the new machine with all of the more recent research.
When he had gone through the fourth caffeinated beverage, he summoned some of the more intellectual lesser nobodies.
When he catches them in the process of defacing one of his own works- and encases them in ice, as a cautionary measure and because he needed the spare test subjects- he calls on his associates.
Of course, Zexion is as much of a hassle to convince. Not that the younger scientist doesn't want to collaborate- on the contrary, apparently he even had the now experimental subjects on his side. But of all things to develop over the course of time, even more of an attitude wasn't what Vexen expected.
At least, he is less flighty now. Or the not-quite warning that Vexen can and will shackle him to the work area if he even entertains the thought of leaving mid-research worked. Or the endless texts are less mind-numbing for a fresh mind.
It still takes them a couple sleepless nights and calling in more aid to sort through every last bit of data.
Of course, Saïx is displeased with the timing. He'd be, the neophyte mostly tasked solely with administrative duties and if he ever set eyes upon proper information-
But after sufficient explaining and the indiscriminate waving of (purposefully confusing) graphs and parameters in front of his face, Vexen is off the hook and allowed back into the laboratories with a project.
The very first attempt is to produce an artificial Dusk.
The reasons were simple- a test drive for the machinery assembled for such a task. A test drive for everything in general, Vexen corrects, since if a basic 'life' form can be cloned satisfactorily with the equipment, then anything more complex has a chance.
It fails.
For a very simple reason, which causes the whole group to roll their eyes and question the method and the sanity of their decision.
The Dusks are, by all means, already identical to one another… and therefore, it was quite hard to prove that no, they hadn't accidentally summoned another Dusk during the procedure instead of creating one.
The second attempt, done with an animal borrowed from another world (much to the chagrin of Zexion, who had to deal with some hysterical locals), went much better.
At least, that was the case before the sedatives wore off and it had to be conclusively dealt with before it could nibble through every piece of data within its reach.
Then comes the first complication, consisting of acquiring a set of memories. From the hero, as per ordered, and unsurprisingly no one seems eager for this task.
No one else from the team is there either, as a matter of fact, and Vexen doesn't fancy sending himself to do such a meager task. Droves of Dusks go out and return, bearing miscellaneous paraphernalia back to him.
Most of it is discarded- apparently, anything related to keyblade wielders is borne back on their claws, from obscure books to (wonder of wonders) discarded fragments of some kind of armor. The fact that, of all people, the somewhat dim (and isn't that ironic, all things considered) hero could- or did- don proper armor was bizarre.
And ultimately untrue, which is a complete hassle since that particular bit of data had already been coded into no. i, the armor piece subtly returned via Dusk to its original location and the puppet is even beginning to take on some aspects.
Namely, no. i begins to appear feminine, which is what clues him in better than the shocking lack of vibrant colors in the sleek metal or the incredible amount of memories pertaining to a somewhat familiar little girl.
In no way does he thank Marluxia when he appears with his prized find. After all, him bringing in a little girl reeks of his own amusement instead of anything productive-
Then, cue the flowery neophyte walking in, Dusk-pale girl in tow, and handing him a long wisp of chain he claims to be Sora's memories.
She proves it with a little display, of a couple of links showing a copy-pasted morning on the islands. A trio of young children, two boys and a girl, bickering about who exactly got to the play area first on the boats and wasting time on games.
He taught his almost-own boy better, Vexen sneers, before taking the delicate object and compiling all of the details into no. i's central code.
The girl- Naminé, as she has presented herself to Lexaeus and Zexion- has taken an interest in the project. It's bothersome; to have extra spectators and useless hands about, but Vexen tolerates her presence. It's good for additional research, for spiting Marluxia and for figuring out just who this queerly somewhat-heartless girl is.
She is restricted to only sitting on a corner, doodling on a special sketch pad set apart for her. At times, she is allowed to hand over certain necessary items, or assist with the memory transfers. But mostly, Naminé just spends her limited research-hindering time curled up on a tall chair and making small comments on how she is coming along–for, according to the young girl, no. i is most definitely a girl by now, never mind the actual source of the memories.
After much thought, they decide to properly name this first experiment. They go for simplicity, as is custom between scientists, and just tag on an X as an afterthought when Lexaeus reminds them that she- wait, it- is probably also a Nobody.
And so, no. i became Xion, to much annoyance at having to readjust to the nomenclature.
With the addition of the chain of memories, the project goes on at a much swifter pace. Xion grows restless enough to stir in her small operation table, responds to simple stimuli.
Vexen gets her to answer to her name by accident, while ordering some Dusks around and slipping her name in unconsciously.
There is a dull sound of stretching restraints, a weird mewl of surprise at limited movements. Vexen doesn't whip around, that's only for over-excitable amateurs- but he does grace her with a look fast enough.
At least, the sterling blue eyes fit quite right, despite the (flawed) female face and the inky-black spill of hair.
While the pursuit for those awkward errors in the data is alluring, with the deadlines drawing near Vexen's resources are all driven towards finishing Xion's development.
So it is with a much diminished patience that he sets himself to teach her basic mathematics and sciences-
"Now, the solving of integrals is relevant to…"
At least, she is appropriately quiet for the duration of the lessons. Asks a couple of questions here and there, most pertaining to the subject at hand.
Then she'll ask about the most inane things, about friendship and closeness and similar nonsense with little scientific basis.
"Those are matters of no import. Now, returning to mathematics, it is important that when solving for x in equations of this sort…"
He doesn't veto anyone from attempting to instruct her about those subjects- he doesn't need to. Zexion is overly cynical, and either way he probably doesn't know (too much, from when Vexen was less uptight about his work and they still had the gall of taking time off for ice-cream). Lexaeus speaks little and in amazingly simple terms that manage to lose insignificant amounts of significance in their utterance- but again, he speaks little.
And therefore, the girl knows little about such fripperies, as she should, and can devote herself better to useful pursuits.
Naminé, amusingly, still drops by to prattle with Xion. And after their small conversations, the girl always reports something different, new additions to the memory data registered.
They tend to be forgotten soon after, along with most of the girl-in-white, until Xion only recognizes her by direct interaction.
This Vexen notes duly down on some notebooks- one for the girl in white, one for his experiment, one recording Xion's progress.
Her mission training is done mostly by them, in bits and pieces.
A light-elemental, as expected. With no proper technique with a weapon, or even a weapon itself. She's been stuck borrowing Zexion's illusory arsenal for long enough to make them doubt they've coded the appropriate data in, despite Naminé's arguments to the contrary. The last are swiftly silenced, usually by Lexaeus staring at her sternly enough before he teaches the puppet the proper way to swing a blade.
Skilled with magic, though that probably is due to two out of three of her mentors focusing on spell-work rather than melee strength. Somewhat of a failure at reconnaissance, which annoys Vexen to no end (when did the new members become so inept at the most important tasks), but also expected.
She improves swiftly, which is why she is presented as a full-fledged member within such a small time-frame.
And despite their excellent training, Xion is still given the small time in co-operative missions. With the scatterbrained Roxas, to top it off- but Vexen doesn't complain.
He wouldn't, not when she returns beaming- of all actions, and with such a smile that is a pain to see without a heart- with a keyblade in her hands.
Well, the data was coded in there after all.
No-one really minds that she is stone-silent most of the time. Xion wasn't meant to speak up save for her spell casting, and even then in the most succinct and quiet manner possible. Apart from her reports, she was left alone to her devices, the time spent on practicing blade swings and random trivia.
They get complaints- or more accurately, Vexen ensures that Zexion and Lexaeus have to deal with the complaints. They stem mostly from mildly-curious neophytes, once from the girl-in-white almost forgotten, once from the other newest kid.
But they are all dropped soon, once the novelty wears off and Xion puts her hood back up again.
Vexen wonders why everyone else claimed her to look absurdly different- from a hooded puppet, to a bare doll, to a boy.
Then again, that last one was Xigbar. Not a serious source of information by any means.
Late after all missions are done and meetings called as over, Xion inquires. Talking comes to her easier now, but not easily enough to make her override every single respect protocol he's programmed into her, even for such a trivial thing as a couple of questions.
Vexen was always one for cultivating her curiosity- it might make her a worthwhile investigation once his thesis about the weirder Naminé is completed.
Then she asks- again- about friendship. Something to do with an activity partaken during the day and Roxas and, bizarrely, sea-salt ice cream.
That flavor must be older than him, that overpricing duck and his 'originality' be damned.
As it is, he drops his forehead into his palms.
"Xion, we have had this conversation before. Friendship isn't a concept applying to us Nobodies, and therefore is none of your concern."
He waves off her arguments with several iterations of the fact, dismissing them all as just Sora-remnants speaking.
And grumbles when her behavioural protocols slip slightly lower, to giggles and jokes that are out of place in such a dreary place.
Vexen grumbles through the entirety of his assignment to Castle Oblivion, not at all mollified by the possibilities of extended research and new discoveries to be achieved there.
The experiment, oddly enough, comes to bid him farewell a couple of days before. It's an efficient behavior, and he spares some praise for her in that.
When Vexen hears of the possibility of a rehash of the Replica project- or more like another way to undertake it, he jumps at the chance.
This time, it is done with genetic data and clever manipulation of some variables.
This time, it is much less malleable, much more volatile than Xion and, just as she was, kept in restraints by Naminé.
Queer enough, but it settles his thesis really well. It explains his thesis and for once in a long time, Vexen gets to have a theory validated.
And memory-witches are leagues above the heartless, at least in his opinion.
Late in the lab, in a break between that conceited, flowery, inexperienced brat of a neophyte and endless kinks to fix with the Riku Replica, Vexen compares them side to side.
He finds Xion a more polished product before scrapping that whole conclusion for not being suitably objective. She's had more time to develop, after all.
Vexen closes the notebook and determines that, later on, he'll continue this pursuit. Once the upstart is shoved back into place and the rampaging 'hero' is directed well away from his delicate research.
But that shall be later on.
A.N. – normal stuff is apparently not in my repertoire most of the time. Sad to say, this wasn't an example of normal stuff.
But if it were, it wouldn't be me. So cheers?
And this actually has the weirdest of dedications – to Knight-Dawn and Amatus for… wait for it… the plot-bunny-mine of their comments/replies on Strength and Courage. Which is an awesome drabble challenge, but is ultimately mostly unrelated to this (you know, with it being a collection of Rion). The prompt in particular was 77, so if you go check the comments you'll find my point. I'm still one crazy author, but I have a quirky excuse.
For your peace of mind, I don't have anything else relating to KH. Characters are the property of Square Enix (as you would suppose), but the zany plot-or-is-it is mine.
As you might have noticed, I fooled around with the timeline. It is artistic license- I played the game, writing this gave me some OCD, plot bunnies tore it to shreds but it's still whimpering for salvation. So my deepest apologies for that confusion.
Oh, and thanks for reading! I can't state that enough, and it would get boring if I tried, so just thanks :) If you want to leave a review, go ahead – it's nice, but by no means compulsory.
See you around!