Missions adjourned into the unforeseeable future, a kind of listlessness soon settled over the Castle That Never Was. For a day or two, nobody knew what to do, and agitation began to culminate.
Marluxia called another meeting.
"Excursions to other worlds are permissible, you know," He said once everybody was done complaining - of course, Vexen thought, as pleased as they were at the overturn of Xemnas, Marluxia was still going to have to earn his place as leader of Organisation XIII.
Demyx was the first to jump out of his seat.
"Seriously?! Anywhere?"
"I would prefer if you limited your trips to a single day, at the most - in case any issues do occur I want you to be quickly and readily available. And I would like to know prior to your absence where you will be going. For safety's sake."
"No offence," Xigbar drawled, "But we can look after ourselves."
"There have been a few cases of members going missing on missions before," Marluxia replied smoothly, as though he had been planning to say this all along. Then again, given his calculative mind, he had probably covered all eventualities and prepared for them long ago. Vexen wondered how well he'd fare when asked a question for which he had no perfect answer laid out before him. "It is merely a precaution."
"Take too many precautions and you'll end up going nowhere," Xigbar huffed, beaten.
"Take too few and where you'll be going is likely off a cliff," Marluxia replied flippantly. Nobody could work out if it was a threat, or not, but Demyx laughed.
"Hey, can we improve the sleeping arrangements?" He asked. The tension snapped, and Marluxia gave a wan smile.
"I daresay if you earn the luxury, we could."
"And something about the horrible interior design in this place," Zexion added.
Vexen turned to look at him, a frown on his face. Zexion had been the one, when the Organisation had first come into effect under Xemnas' rule, to suggest the neutral colours that constituted as the scheme for the Castle. Nobodies rarely had the capacity to change - why did Zexion suddenly choose to rail against his previous decision?
Zexion happened to glance up as the conversation shuffled on - Demyx apparently wanted bright bordering on psychedelic colours - and caught Vexen's eye. The Chilly Academic was quick to glance away.
He'd not spoken to either Zexion or Lexaeus since the takeover, and had made no plans to do so either. Those two bastards had comprehensively betrayed him by sitting back and doing nothing as Axel ripped him to the ground. They'd sided with Marluxia himself and that was unforgivable. Either of them could have suggested a replica take Vexen's place in Twilight Town - and yet, neither of them did. Vexen didn't want to know why.
"- Vexen?"
"I'm sorry?"
Vexen caught his name and turned to face Marluxia, a questioning expression on his face.
"I was asking your opinion on new interiors for the castle,"
"Oh, God," Larxene, slouching next to her partner on her throne, moaned. "Don't ask Vexen. He'll want slime green, or something."
"Every member deserves a say," Marluxia retaliated. "Vexen?"
Vexen cast a furtive glare at Zexion.
"I think it's fine as it is."
----
It took a week for Vexen to be up and about on his feet; he daresay enjoyed the break from working - Xemnas always forced recovery times to be as short as possible, which was all well and good for the younger members with strong muscles and supple bones but had never served the increasingly creaky Vexen well - but was glad to be back in the labs.
Marluxia wasted no time in finding him.
"So, have you been considering the practicalities of heart synthesis?"
Vexen, scribbling an update to his journal - "Marluxia overthrown Xemnas. Turns out he's not such of a bastard after all, at least I hope. Wants to paint the walls in retina-destroying colours. Has made some very smart moves. Waiting for him to trip up. Not associating with Zexion and Lexaeus any more. Commissioned to make hearts. V." - twisted in his seat to welcome or glare away the newcomer.
"Do you want the long answer, or short?"
"I'm very interested in the dynamics of biological science," Marluxia commented idly, drawing up a stool and sitting next to Vexen. "So, long. And "At least I hope"? Vexen, I thought better of you."
"You almost killed me," Vexen pointed out, snatching his journal away.
"Touché." Marluxia admitted. "So, explain."
"Well," Vexen began. "I've been studying the heart for most of my life, and I've com to the conclusion that like a whole being, it is made of three parts - the shell- " He gestured with his hands an outer crust to this imaginary heart - "The emotions, and the core - to which the emotions are drawn, and filtered both ways through the shell. The shell itself would be easy enough to replicate as it is simply a membrane similar to that of a cell, albeit with different functions. In fact, a heart is a lot like a single celled organism - the shell is the cell membrane, the emotions forms the "cytoplasm" where all reactions take place, and it is controlled by the core - or the nucleus. Are you confused yet?"
Marluxia had been doodling on a post it note. Vexen sighed.
"Are you even listening to a word that I'm saying?"
"Of course I am," Marluxia dutifully replied without looking up. "I'm taking notes, lest I be required to actually memorise any of this. Please, continue."
"Now, the emotions are impossible to create artificially but they can be collected from fully functioning, human heart - or even the heart of an animal. I have a theory, and this is very important so stop scribbling a minute and just listen."
Marluxia laid down his pen and looked up. He seemed to be following.
"Yes?"
"I call it the fluid heart theory. This means that the "heart" that we think of it is not a source of emotions, simply a vessel through which emotions pass. Imagine this - every human being in the entire worlds is connected, emotionally, to every person they have met, every animal with which they have interacted - even inanimate objects can sometimes hold emotional ties. Through these connections pass emotions - love, liking, disdain, hatred - so a heart which has only negative connections will be filled only with negative emotions - so that's all its bearer can feel."
There was a pause.
"You know," Marluxia commented, "When you're talking about science, your eyes light up in a way I've never seen happen otherwise."
"Gah! You weren't listening, were you?!"
"Of course I was. Emotional ties, positive equals positive, negative equals negative, loving inanimate objects."
"That wasn't what I-"
"It was a joke, Vexen."
"... Oh."
"So how does this theory of yours correlate to synthesis of hearts?"
"That's precisely it!" Vexen exclaimed. "It makes it a great deal easier. Our first attempts at replicated hearts were created with emotions trapped inside - but this meant that the emotional output of the bearer was very mechanic, simplified and extreme. We couldn't duplicate the complexity of the emotions - and Xemnas soon considered synthetic hearts as a whole impossible. But if I can work out a way to create the core - which is really just an emotional magnet - then it ought to be simple."
Marluxia nodded slowly.
"Fascinating."
"I didn't think you'd understand," Vexen huffed, turning away. Nobody really did; love for science seemed to be Vexen's alone, even amongst the other researchers.
"You're the one who needs to understand," Marluxia replied, "I'm just curious. Nobody else seems to listen to you, after all."
That was harsh, Vexen thought dully - if true. It was the first time Marluxia had said something so thoughtless. He sighed, stretching his back, hearing the click of each vertebrae popping into position.
"Sometimes I wonder if they deserve hearts,"
"Everybody deserves a heart," Marluxia said, and he sounded almost put out. But then he smiled, and passed Vexen something across the table. "Here. Take the rest of the day off. Go and have fun."
"Need I remind you that nobodies can't have fun," Vexen muttered sardonically, picking up the little parcel of munny. Marluxia just smiled.
"I beg to differ."
A whisper of a portal later and he was gone.
Vexen quickly counted the munny - a good thousand or so - and sighed. As though he needed any more time off - although he supposed that he oughtn't complain if Marluxia had given him explicit permission.
For lack of anything better to do, he opened a portal and slipped out into an alleyway in Twilight Town. Days off for him were rare - unlike Zexion and Ienzo before him, he had good health, and unlike Demyx (and most likely his somebody in turn) was not accident prone. And Xemnas had never really done holidays at all.
Besides, Vexen's mind never settled on one subject alone unless it was science. Even as he wandered aimlessly around one shop after another, he was still figuring the logistics of synthesising a core. He needed samples, first and foremost. And a coffee percolator. Using filters was such a bother - Vexen was sure that with the right words he could convince Marluxia to supply him with one. It would make his work more efficient, or some other sycophantic jargon like that.
----
"Xig. I'm bored."
"Go play on your sitar, or something. I'm trying to shoot shit here."
Demyx, lounging at the edge of the arena and looking as bored as he claimed to be, let out a long and dramatic sigh.
"There's nothing to do."
"You seemed pretty happy to do nothing back when Xemnas as in power," Xigbar commented offhandedly. There was the crack of his gun, and one slithering Dusk collapsed. For a moment, Demyx didn't reply.
"... Well, that was different. Now we're allowed to do other stuff than kill Heartless all the time."
"Then why are you harassing me?" Xigbar muttered, cocking his gun one final time. Bang; the last Dusk was gone. He stepped back from the firing range.
"Because there's nothing to do," Demyx moaned. "Dunno which worlds to go to."
"Visit Atlantica, or something, then," Xigbar suggested.
"Come with me?" Demyx wheedled,
"Oh, good lord. Marluxia has created a monster."
Demyx pushed himself away from the wall, pouting impressively.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Just saying that when Xemnas was in power you weren't quite this annoying," Xigbar remarked. "You never did work then either but at least you did a good job of pretending to,"
Demyx frowned.
"And when Xemnas was in power you'd never be so mean." He huffed, stomping out.
---
"Vexen."
Tensions since that takeover, Vexen had come to realise, hadn't suddenly eased after Xemnas was dead. All the Nobodies were still slightly distrustful of each other; they'd come to form little cliques which rallied off each other - Marluxia must have known that the Organisation was beginning to fall apart.
Vexen, though he cared little for Marluxia's grasp on the Nobodies, or their own personal power struggles, was beginning to worry about Zexion. Particularly now that he'd just walked in through the door.
"Zexion."
"I haven't seen you around lately."
"No."
Zexion sighed, closing the door behind him and walking in to sit next to Vexen on the old, falling apart sofa in his room. He'd always said that it was a hideous pattern; then again, who knew these days - everything seemed to be changing these days.
"You could at least give me more than one word answers,"
"Why?" Vexen asked blankly, not turning from the television screen as empty as his expression.
"Because we're supposed to be friends," Zexion replied. "Or as close to friends as Nobodies can get, at any rate."
"Friends who stand by and watch each other be brutally murdered?"
"Vexen, don't start on this-"
Vexen bit the bullet.
"Either of you could have suggested the use of a replica. Why didn't you?"
Zexion looked away.
"You know, I find it interesting that you're more willing to associate with Marluxia - the man who ordered you dead - than Lexaeus and I."
"I didn't have my trust betrayed by Marluxia because I never trusted him at all."
"You're still alive, aren't you?" Zexion hissed, patience waning. It was only then that Vexen looked up, hatred burning in his acid green eyes.
"Alive, yes. Traumatised, too. I have scars, Zexion, I hope you know that. I have scars and I will for the rest of my life because you and your cliff-face of a boyfriend simply stood by and watched me burn to within an inch of my life. Perhaps that will help you to understand a little why I'm unwilling to give my trust to you again."
"And yet you have so willingly agreed to help Marluxia by replicating hearts."
"Don't change the subject!" Vexen snapped. "Marluxia is partly to blame for this and he at the very least has had the decency to apologise. Your continuous avoidance of my questions only proves that you have no explanation for your actions in Castle Oblivion."
Caught out, Zexion at first did not reply. So Vexen continued.
"If either of you were to have been Marluxia's choice then I would not have hesitated one minute before offering to create a replica and spare you the pain."
"Perhaps we didn't want to spare you the pain," Zexion finally said, lowly.
"And what, pray tell, is the meaning of that?"
"God knows you're an insufferable fool," Zexion began, clearly seeing that there was no turning back now. "Always complaining about Lexaeus and I - you always had to be right, had to be in control of every single little detail, and clearly your theories were the only ones with any credit to them - it was hell working with you. Even as a Somebody, nobody liked you."
The silence seemed to last forever, even the beep from the digital clock in the corner to commemorate a new minute seeming long and drawn out.
"Just get out." Vexen finally hissed. Without another word, Zexion was gone.
