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{James : Disney Castle : Balcony}

James fell silent again, listening to her explanation as to why she had so many thoughts. How she kept all of them to herself up until now, not really having anyone to talk about them without it feeling awkward, now... it was like becoming her friend was the key to opening up the flood gates to the thoughts of her mind. He nodded his head in understanding at her first comment and then... she had another fangirl moment.

She explained why people were able to draw parallels and similarities to the characters of anime, games, movies... all of that and then went on to explain where she saw herself in an anime that he had never heard of, explaining how her supernatural curse was very similar to something she had to deal with... which confused him very much. Which then confused him even more as she started talking about the passing of time and this thing causing future problems. He couldn't help but give her a very confused look, eye brow raised curiously as he tried to figure out what she was talking about...

Finally probably after seeing his confused look she got to her point, explaining how she was born with a condition that left her for all intents and purposes useless, her motives made so much more sense now... She pushed so hard and tried to do so much because she wanted to be useful while she could, she wanted to help as much as she possibly could before it happened again. He remembered back to Narnia, when the two of them had tried to talk for the first time she had been lying down... clearly not well. That had been right before the toad sage, perhaps she had been coming down with it at that point, she was explaining to him a major weakness of her's, he understood now. He gave her a concerned look, especially after she explained that stress could trigger this. He hoped for her sake that it never did set in during a battle, that would ultimately be the worst time, and it was an understandable fear to be sure. The situation they were in was definitely not good for stress levels.

"I am sure there is a solution somewhere in this world, be it magical or medicinal. As I've already said, I will help you in any way that I can, be it help you find it or just to stand by you. You and I are connected now, and that tie will not be broken, not by me." he stated with a smile.

She then explained the ending to the anime she had been talking about it and now he understood the connection she saw between the character and herself, she wanted to end her condition and she also wanted to end her sin the Nameless in this world too, just as Misuzu broke her curse.

"As I said, I will do what I can to help you. Both with this and the Nameless too. If there is any place that all of this can have a resolution, I have to believe it is here."

[ATE ~ Speaker of the Dead ~ 6]
[Noelle ~ Disney Castle ~ Chamber of the Cornerstone]

Noelle let out a brief sigh, relieved that Nick was taking this all . . . relatively well. It seemed as if it didn't phase him that he was a villain. Now that he had calmed, she could see the Nick before her was really a very distant version of his current true self. The agromancer couldn't help but smile a little at all his sudden questions.

"It's alright," she told him, starting to relax a bit, "I prefer this to throwing a tantrum. Anyway, you haven't really said much about yourself. I've only actually spoken in detail to the actual you once before, and even then it was a brief encounter. Before then I was smashing your nuts and feeding you to plants. But I digress . . ."

Noelle snickered a bit at her last remark, pausing briefly to let it sink in. "You've . . . fallen way past Disney standards on the darkness scale, I'm sorry to say. Chaos has really done a number on your sanity. If we can get you back, I hope we can recover who you really are--who you are now. I prefer this Nick, and I've only spent two minutes with it. And lastly, your primary weapons are some sort of blade, sarcasm, and general jackassery."

"Ugh, my everything hurts..."
"Ugh, my everything hurts..."

Kyle opened his eyes in confusion, looking around for the sound of the other voice, and finding Ajora--looking more ethereal than physical--hovering very close nearby.

"You're not even here."

Ajora looked at him, confused and blinking before realization set in. "Ooooh yeeeaah..."

Kyle rolled his eyes before taking in his surroundings. The normally-black abyss was more fluidly gray-scale, with streaks of black and white through silvers and grays. The realm seemed to flow, the shades of each spot changing with each passing moment, though over time it seemed everything was trying to go back to its original black appearance.

Filling the air in the vast space was nothing but mist--tons and tons of mist, so thick he could only barely see the gray backgrounds. It ebbed and flowed like everything else, but it didn't seem to go... anywhere.

Around him, beneath him, the station itself was beginning to reform, some chunks coming from dust in the mist, other chunks simply reappearing as if from nowhere. The mosaics were only barely recognizable for the moment, but the station would get there.

"So... what happened?"

"Pretty sure you blew up."

"Thank you, Einstein, for that enthralling answyou know what I meant you b*****d."

"Chill, man, I blacked out the same time you did," Ajora replied, waving his hands in front of him. "I'm a data projection tied to your heart. Your heart blew up, so did I."

"Yeah, speaking of which, what the hell were you thinking?!" Kyle asked, his teeth practically grinding.

"That we don't do repeats and being possessed by a big-bad had already been done?" he said, raising a brow as if the answer was obvious and Kyle had missed it. "You know, the whole Riku arc in K-H-One, ringing any bells?"

Kyle grabbed the bridge of his nose and massaged it between his thumb and forefinger, closing his eyes. "So, judging by the Trident, I'm guessing you injected me with this as a last-ditch effort in the cocoon."

"Last ditch? Give us more credit than that!" the translucent replica responded, snorting. "This was the secondary reason behind the entire thing! From the moment I found out you had accepted a deal with Seymour, I knew you'd need some way to actually destroy him."

"Right, that whole last minute shpiel of yours," he said, rubbing his head.

"Hey, I was right, wasn't I? Purged and all!"

"How is that, exactly?" he asked, suddenly looking to the specter for answers. "How did you know any of that?"

"A few reasons," he said, though his tone grew a bit less cocky as a result. Still, it was weird to be hearing himself speak. "For one, digging through James' heart, trying to possess him--it wasn't possible. Even once I got the Trident, I couldn't take him completely. There was just... something stopping me."

"Ultimecia failing to possess Noelle was another clue--if she couldn't do it, and she's a Fiend--"

"So she is one?"

"Oh, yeah, her, Kefka, Sephiroth, Kuja, Seymour, Vayne Solidor and Xehanort, keep up," he said dismissively. "Anyway, if she couldn't, and she's a freakin' queen of possession, there's gotta be something protecting you lot."

"Then, when I linked with the Darkness momentarily, that "dark abomination", I sort of felt--"

"Wait, you linked with it--"

"Oh my God can you stop interrupting me so when I linked with it, I sort of felt... well, it hated you lot. Like, it hated pretty much anything Light related, of course, such as the Keyblade guardians, but for some reason it dislikes the Earthlings on equal footing. So I just took a shot in the dark, and lo!"

"... just what the hell have you been up to?" Kyle asked, head tilted in a combination of awe and disdain.

"A lot. It's easy to get around when you can just portal and stuff," Ajora said with a shrug. "But don't worry about it, that's why I'm here. I'm the collection of all of Ajora's memories, from the time he was born to the time of the cocoon, and soon you'll have all of'em."

Kyle hesitated to speak, narrowing his eyes in suspicion before shutting them entirely and groaning. "That's why you were protecting me. You're making me a damn back-up."

"Hey, don't be so negative about it! You should count yourself lucky," he rebutted. "This way, if they decide to try and make another one, it'll already be caught up to speed on their ******** and you guys'll have an ally the moment it gets consciousness. I mean, unless you'd rather go through all of that again."

"No, no, that's," he said, though just the idea made him weary. "Quite alright. Really, just... ugh."

Silence fell between them, and as it did, Kyle decided to watch the repairing station. It was mostly black in the background now, and the platform was almost complete; it was solid enough that he could finally touch down, anyway. Still, the mist remained unmoved.

"So, any idea about this?"

"Not a clue!" he said, looking just as confused as he glanced at the thick fog surrounding them. "Whatever it was, it had been suppressed deep inside your heart for who knows how long."

"Maybe Ultima knows..." he muttered, biting his lower lip. "Is she...?"

"I'd wager she'll be fine, since she's actually bound to your heart. Probably just unconscious until it finishes."

He sighed in relief.

"So, um, are you," he began, turning to look at Ajora's specter. "Still...?"

"Dunno," he muttered, maybe a bit dejectedly. "Like I said, I only have his memories up until the cocoon. He was struggling to maintain control, but... you saw that."

"Guess we'll find out eventually."

"Here's to hoping," he said, oddly chipper for the replica--though, considering he was just a data-specter, maybe it wasn't so odd. "Anyway, I'd wager it's time."

"To--?"

Without warning, something washed over him, and he was dizzy, light-headed, fading--

"Wake up."

Anger.

At first, that's all there really was. Senseless, unfathomable anger.

After awhile, there were flashes. Events he couldn't recognize, couldn't quite understand, ticking by in passing seconds.

Then, as the blurs sharpened, there was some clarity. They were events he'd lived. Each one made his blood boil, filled him with fury...

"The Maester has sent me to collect his new experiments."

Experiments?

His mind stirred. That wasn't history. The voice, no, that was an annoyance he could identify, but this wasn't...

Where was he? He could barely feel, but the more he tried, the less it made sense. His entire body was... immobile... restrained, as time ticked on.

Anger.

"Well, they're not ready. Tell him his toys will be done in about an hour."

Another voice--something from fiction. But clearly real, here, now... the scientist--

His eyes shot open, seeking clarity. And what he found made him tremor.

He was restrained. Inside a large, fluid-filled cylinder, he was suspended, naked, immobilized... but he could feel again.

They were talking about him. He knew.

His entire body shook. He quaked with rage, clenched his jaw, tried to move, tried to lash out, couldn't... but his core felt hot.

Hotter.

His nerves began to tingle before they began to burn. Everything was boiling.

Anger.

'No... I'm no one's toy... nobody's... I'll kill them... kill them, kill them, kill kill kill kill—'

In that moment, the ticking stopped, and he found release. Cold, destructive, black release.

But nothing quenched his anger.



Events began to pass quickly, as if with every swing of a pendulum there was different flash of memory.

A gathering in the nethers of haunting's home. A meeting with an old lady, a scheme for a schemer.

The destruction of a princess' home village. The stolen heart of a child, which still did not ease his wrath. The assault on a cursed castle, the pride, oh pride, in his newfound strength. What he could do, who he could be.

Corruption was there. He knew even then.

Time.

His mind began to spread out. There was more now. With every passing moment, he matured, but the anger never stopped. He needed release, and he could only find it in so few places.

The Grim of the Seas on a leash of heartstring. Everything's smooth save the seas.

A scouting minion taunted the rogues, its mission failed in the leader's cowardice.

Two orders given. Two hearts stripped away, each a different satisfaction. A fallen white mage to drive the worms—yet why?—and a fallen replica because... why not?

A moment of release. No—catharsis. Emotion's death is unbirth's creation; unbirth's death is emotion's resurrection. Finally, clarity, a mind unboiled, sight's true vision.

Rapidly-matured impurity joins the ranks, to great welcome. Deals with brethren, mortal men, and yet still, the fiends. Machina acquired to acquire an artifact. Acquisition, acquisition, acquisition. Never enough time. So much to get to ensure safety—from what?

The schemer sheds his mask, and heroes are prisoners. Where is it? Who has it? See, I have her—ah, the fighter. A point made, an eye unmade, treasures won. A favor for a favor, a corsair for his dreadnought. But they're not safe here, they should be freed before—before what?

Always another meeting. Finding Death, and finding him on his knee. Enlightenment through allegiance.

The pieces are in play. Always in play. Time will tell. A dancer's weakness becomes a corruptor's burden, an insight long-awaited in the only vague piece, a mind now mine, mine, mine.

Clarity brings the chance to relax. Seagulls, sand, soft surf—another neophyte spy? No matter. Socialize, play it up.

The evening star is the signal; time to move on. There must be more of us, all the more to... to what? The neophyte is useless here, but maybe better with the schemer. A game anew.

Watching black combat aboard a black pearl from a black host of black thoughts. An interesting creature, an interesting target, but more interesting, a mind finally made vulnerable. So few seconds to reach. Deeper he dove.

Meeting in the mountain, oozing malfeasance. Memories made into newborns, but not yet. Soon. News of an empire, judgment, a hint in the mist.

A deal fulfilled, in part—a splitting of hairs, and then memory serves. Morning will bring the final act. First, a new deal of charmed thoughts—and then to acquire the prongs of seaborne power.

The would-be-Grim, suspicious, accepts a bargain, and fate's guarantee is guaranteed.

War erupts to prevent eruption. The shadows seek new power; in doing so, judgment falls upon the judge. In victory, departure, no, descent—and drive. The twice-bound host submits, and coursing shadows cull the controlled. A link defined.

Then... power.

Dark, tempting, coursing power. Born in stone, consumed, infused.

More.

First, awakening. Seething secondborns. Some breakdown; others must be broken apart, their time short.

Finally, truth. Ascending the fall. Brilliance in black, a godborne jewel in the skies, power, so much power—

NO.

Pain. Searing, ripping, shredding, stop it, please, end me, end me, tearing away, breaking everything, everything, EVERYTHING—

Fear.

They are.

They were.

They will be.

Retreat. A charming consolation prize, before calling to order the unordered. The stone and skies are met with impurity, chaos, and corruption, but all hear the blacklight and take their gifts.

The cold host stands upon the altar, and light unveils darkness. What is friendship? Suspicion is the undercurrent of allegiance, sealed with ripped-white heart. Milita made, all leave, night's time ending.

Cobblestone streets give way to the high-blood manse, a new host of Mother Earth. A guest of honor takes the open seat, before taking to his feet. Round and round on the floor—but Mother Nature, the carnal Gaia, desires more.

So round and round they go.

In daylight, departure. A tempting of the pious before the clock strikes first. War strikes second.

The host, betrayed, his whims against the greater cause. A storm released gives throes in traitor's memorial, and the Grim bears down on the sea-gem. The undercurrents crash as memory, feeling, and shadow threaten a kingdom and its crown.

All are folly.

With power and guidance in hand, the path of blacklight treads on ancient land. A signal in spire, to lead them on—why, why?!—and met with a keeper and his lessers. A point is made, but yet soon another, for the lone fool descends into a trap meant for many.

Anger.

She plays her time, but such was intended. A message given, a charmed trifle, and she is cast into blood and chaos all the same.

The true prey descends. Preparation, preparation, this is not the goal—yes, yes it is—no, the beating heart cannot—yes, you must, you must—no, no—

Light speaks.

Shadows speak.

Time is up.

{{Cue: Repose from NieR}}

As the two conversed back and forth, an unexpected guest sat on the edge of the station. A young man, of thin physique and short brown hair, legs dangling off the side, with one arm bracing his torso and the other caressing the mist as it drifted through the air. As though playing with water, he dragged his fingers back and forth through the gas-like magic. His shirt was black, a long sleeved button up with a fair of ornate silver wings drawn from the center of the shoulder blades down to his hips. A pair of plain blue jeans sitting loosely on his waist. The young man tilted his head to the side, above which was the most out of place thing about him, there appeared to be a ring of tiny crystals moving around in a circle, orbiting his head like a shattered halo. Occasionally the crystals would collide, releasing small reverberating rings like tiny wind chimes. He seemed to be completely staying out of the conversation the other two occupants seemed to be engrossed in. He mumbled to himself slightly, talking to the air, "Wonder what this is," he said in a familiar voice, brushing the mist with a wave of his hand, kicking it up into a swirl, "It's definitely pretty... whatever it is."

The boy turned his head, the sound of wind chimes echoing off the station and into the distance, "No, of course not. Please," the boy motioned to the platform's edge, "I was hoping for some company. You caught me in the middle of trying to brainstorm some ideas for what this stuff could be," The boy smiled at Kyle, eyes squinted closed in a soft manner before turning his gaze back to the mist, leaning on both elbows now as he gazed up at the aurora of magic, "What brings you here? Wherever here is."

"Sorry, I hope I'm not intruding. I can leave... or... well," there was a deep sigh, "I was kinda hoping you'd be able to help me figure it out if I asked you for your reason. Guess if you live here, it makes sense you should be the one asking that question, sorry."

The boy frowned, looking more downtrodden, the previous smile seeming more forced in the light of this expression, "I honestly don't know how I got here. I just sorta... woke up. I don't remember anything else besides, there was a bright light... when I opened my eyes, I was a bit over that way, laying on my side. I hope I'm not bothering you by being here..."

The boy smiled, glad he wasn't being a burden and not-at-all disappointed in how his gracious host was treating him, but looked to the side concerned as Kyle introduced himself, "I'm... not sure. I know I said I don't remember how I got here, but I really don't remember much of anything, including my own name. Amnesia. Really interesting in theory, annoying as hell in practice."

He chuckled at his own joke, as he sat up, brushing off his elbows, "Um... so, I guess, you can call me whatever you like really. Any ideas?"