Authors Notes: I highly detest writing notes in front of what a I write, however, I don't think that I have much of an option. Chapters will come slow. I don't care if you don't like how I write characters; this is my Vexen-Marluxia-whatever. I also have a fetish for obscenely long titles. This will have mature themes, so all comments containing "LOL omg, he got buttsexed" or whatever. Flames will be ignored.
Really, just posting this here to be approved by y!gallery staff. XD;
Of Ice, Roses, and Lies: A Detailed Memoir of the Events of the Siege of Castle Oblivion
Chapter One
Slender fingers slid down the replica's cheek, the pads of the scientist's fingers caressing the alabaster skin framed by strawberry-pink locks. The academic's gloved fingers moved across plump lips that twitched ever-so-slightly to the stimulation; after all, the lips were one of the most sensitive organs on the human body. Nerve bundles connected to them, sending the information of what happened to the brain and eliciting a response.
The clone's mouth predictably opened to the soft movement of Vexen's leather-clad fingers, however, aquamarine eyes remained fixed ahead—unresponsive completely until Vexen's fingers snapped next to his temple. The clone jumped, his mouth closing and his gaze shifting to the hand. He blinked, his head tilting to the side. He blinked again, his eyes following Vexen's finger as he held it in front of his face and moved it slowly.
"Very good," Vexen said quietly. "Can you speak, clone?"
The clone's gaze rose, looking up to Vexen and staring at him quietly as he finally had made eye contact with the Nobody. He opened his mouth once the command had processed and made a small sound—an attempted vocalization.
"Not yet," Vexen said with a slightly disappointed sigh. He picked up a clip board, his hand moving quickly across the page of chicken-scratch notes that only he could possibly make sense of. "I cannot believe that I was charged with creating you for that indignant bastard."
The clone sat quietly, his hands still folded across his pale-skinned lap, they having been placed that way from before he woke up. His body did not move entirely yet, and as Vexen predicted, would not until a couple of hours. He slid the pen he had been using through the top of the metal clip on the clipboard before resting it down next to the clone's side and moved his chair back slightly. He stared at the perfect copy he had created, observing the blank look combined with elegant beauty—all of his work obviously having paid off.
"You will be able to speak and move soon enough," Vexen said, crossing his legs and steepling his fingers together as he leaned back in the chair. "So, until that time, I shall inform you of what and who you are."
The replica sat quietly, looking at Vexen without thought.
"You are a copy—a clone, a replica—of the master of this place," Vexen explained, knowing that he would have to speak slowly for the clone. "That person is Marluxia of Organization XIII. Despite being of lower rank than myself, he is in charge of where we are now. This is Castle Oblivion, and we are in the basement laboratory of the structure." Vexen took a breath, mostly to force himself to slow down in his speech to the replica. "I will not draw my explanation out about your existence: you were created to serve as Marluxia's body double in the event that Sora reaches him and has become aggressive."
The replica's brow twitched—and Vexen smiled slightly as he pushed himself forward in his chair and picked up his clipboard. Quietly, he started to write once more, noting the copy's show of annoyance or perhaps anger: the first clear emotion to be observed. Vexen leaned back in his seat once more, resting the clipboard diagonally across his lap and knitting his fingers together.
"In order to assimilate with Marluxia entirely, once you have you basic life functions mastered, you will be taken to Namine to have your memories match selected behavior and mannerisms of the actual Marluxia," he explained. "But until then, you will stay with myself. You are still developing, actually, though you have impressions of Marluxia within your being, therefore, your development is more accelerated than an infants. But I am unsure of how long Marluxia's life has been prior to becoming a Nobody, but I estimated that his Somebody was in his mid-twenties."
The replica moved his mouth, a gasping attempt at words coming from him.
"A Somebody is what I once was," Vexen continued, his speech still slow as he pressed a hand to his chest. "One with a Heart. Once the Heart is captured and lost to the darkness, a Heartless and a Nobody are born. I would be the Nobody of Even—Vexen. You may address me as 'Vexen' when your vocal cords develop. Anyways, Nobodies are without emotion due to a lack of a Heart, are neither light nor dark, and simply not meant to be."
The replica said nothing, his mouth closing without another sound at Vexen's explanation.
"Regardless, you are a copy of Marluxia," Vexen said, his viridian eyes narrowing slightly. "You are to answer to me, and no one else of the Organization. I—"
Vexen's speech was interrupted by the light sound of crackling combined with the sound of a light gust of wind—the unique sound of a corridor of darkness being formed in the room. The sound of boots on the tile of the laboratory were soon heard before Larxene was standing next to Vexen's chair, her hand going down to rest on the other blonde's shoulder.
"Ohh, and I take it that creating Marluxia's replica went well," she purred, her eyes looking down at him. She opened her mouth to speak once again before Vexen's hand brushed her hand away from him. "Well, we don't have to get bitchy, my elder."
"Save your snippy attitude for someone who will actually entertain your presence, Neophyte," Vexen hissed standing from his chair and opening his metallic clipboard, sliding his notes into it and locking it. As if he was going to permit the likes of Larxene into his belongings. "I take it that Marluxia wishes for me to have an audience with him."
"But of course," Larxene purred. "His Highness wishes for you to grace him with your presence, lowly commoner." With that, she bowed and soon stepped backward into a corridor of darkness that she had formed.
Vexen's eyes remained narrowed at where Larxene had been before he turned to face the replica once more. The doll sat there, as if Larxene had not arrived at all, his hands still immaculately folded in his lap like before to cover his bare genitals.
"You stay there," Vexen said to him, pointing a finger to the copy and narrowing his eyes once more. "I will be back shortly. Do not move from this spot; I will provide for you when I return."
The replica said nothing, just staring at Vexen as he left much like Larxene had before him.