Nymph's Return (Larxene, PM to join)

(Appologies for the lateness. I believe I meditated on this too much, that and I really need to get back into the swing of RPing the Larx. <3)



Her departure was one of silence. Larxene had intended her return to go, more or less, the same way.

Undoubtedly her absence had not gone unnoticed, and knowing her fellow Organization members – if she could still be considered a member of Organization XIII – they were, most certainly, not at all pleased by her wanton abandonment of their ranks. Larxene had her reasons for leaving, but felt no need to elaborate them unto her associates. What business was it of theirs anyway? She had plans in mind, and those plans did not involve them in any way what-so-ever, and as far as she was concerned they never would.

But those plans, much to her aggravation, fell through.

So once again she found herself stepping out of the Darkness, heels making a soft clacking against the floor, and into the cloudy gray and dazzling white halls of The Castle That Never Was – like a runaway child returning home after a long time had passed. The place was both familiar and foreign; both welcoming and foreboding. She was a stranger in familiar territory, a guest unexpected and unwelcomed, and perhaps she was signing her own death warrant by setting foot once again in that place. But it couldn’t be helped. She had no place else to go after all her wanderings. She needed a place to hole up in for short while, and she longed for the creature comforts of her private quarters. She would make her visit here as quick and quiet as she possibly could, become like a shadow as to not draw attention to herself, and leave once more when she is rested and ready.

It was with all that in mind that she moved through the castle, pressing close to the walls and spying around corners to check that the coast was clear – until almost instantly she heard the faint sound of her plans falling through once more. It sounded much like wings beating steadily against the still air. It only took a second’s glance around to spot the source of the sound for her to learn that she too had been spotted: one of the lesser Nobodies – a Dragoon – was heading straight for her.

With a jolt of electricity Larxene called her Foudre knives to her hands.

Her initial instinct was to strike, bring the lesser Nobody down first before it had the chance to attack her first, to raise the alarm, but she stilled her arm, muscles twitching to let her knives fly, when she noticed that the Dragoon was not rushing right for her, it’s aura not aggressive, not carrying its spear but something else. It was carrying a folded paper.

When it was near enough, the Dragoon presented it to her. She hesitated at first, suspecting, distrustful, but her inquisitiveness got the better of her. In a crackling flash her Foudre knives disappeared, and she took the letter from the Dragoon with a sharp snap of her wrist.

“Shoo,” she hissed, flicking her hand at the lesser Nobody, and it left without qualm, returning to wherever it came from, its task completed. With it gone Larxene turned the paper over in her hands, wondering who could be writing her, would be writing her, from within the Castle, and how they knew of her return hen she had taken careful effort to be as discreet as possible. Perhaps she should have taken the messenger as hint enough: the letter was from Xaldin.

Of course the Whirlwind Lancer would pick up on her presence – the man was sharp in more ways than his tongue. What could he possibly want…?

Her aquamarine eyes scoured through the short letter once, twice, thrice…


So he wanted to meet with her. The prospect sounded harmless enough, but knowing how the Organization dealt with those they considered traitors – and now knowing if her fellow Nobodies considered her a traitor or not – the idea of facing the Whirlwind Lancer all her by her lonesome gave rise to some trepidation. Xaldin was, after all, a formidable nonbeing.

Would he attack her? Or did he truly just want to talk? Should she just leave again? Would he come after her? That’s a stupid question: of course he would – and the rest of the Organization at that. She would be pursued like a game animal, just like Marluxia. A disgusting, disgraceful fate.

Better to stand and face him, she decided, than to be hunted like some beast.

Carefully folding the letter away, she dawned a resolute expression, proud, wily, unperturbed, and opened a Dark Corridor to Where Nothing Gathers. She stepped through the inky blackness and soon found herself deposited into a pristine throne, her seat within the circle, and daintily crossed one leg over the other. Her lips parted into a coy smile and she flicked her large eyes upward.

“Good evening, Xaldin. I got your letter.”

Larxene kept her coy smile, even as the Whirlwind Lancer stared her down.

She wasn’t one to show weakness, fealty, even to those that she knew were much stronger than her. She listened quietly to what he had to say, still, poised.

…a majority of the Organization sees you as a traitor…

That’s no surprise. She had expected as much of them.

…I myself don’t feel that, at least now…

That she doubted, but she dared not voice such sentiments out loud, lest Xaldin saw it fit to impale her face with one of his lances. Then again, who was she to venture a guess as to how the gears in the Nobody’s head churned.

What she was concerned with was what he wanted to speak with about, his reasons for calling her there. And ah… There it was. Number III had a request of her. It commanded her interest, her curiosity.

What, oh what, could Xaldin want from her?

She leaned forward anxiously, her coy smile broadening as he snapped his fingers, making an image appear before her.

It was as she stared at the image of the Assassin that Laxene’s smile wavered.

Marluxia…

For a long while she had considered the Graceful Assassin as a close ally of hers, a partner in their schemes, the only one amongst the ranks of the Organization that she could – would – consider an equal. Of course that was back when they were both members of the Organization. Before he left to be hunted. Before she followed suit to pursue her own means. How fortunate for Xaldin, then, that both his request and her plans crossed paths. Their goal was the same, but for different reasons…

“I’m afraid that I have no new information on Marluxia’s current whereabouts or ventures that I can share with you,” Larxene said finally after taking a moment to ponder on the Assassin’s face. “As for where I have been…” Her aquamarine eyes flicked from Marluxia’s image back up to Xaldin. “Well, I suppose I should say that our endeavors are not too different from each other. You see, Marluxia is the reason for my unannounced departure, and perhaps my return. I have been searching for him as well, to no avail.”

Larxene couldn’t help but let her smile broaden as Xaldin continued to speak.

Was she seeking out Marluxia for personal reasons? But of course.

For revenge? Not exactly.

While she was… displeased with Marluxia’s foolishness that eventually led to his departure, the Nobody had not exactly done anything to warrant her scorn. As far as she was concerned, he was still a valuable ally, companion. But still, she allowed a vitriolic glint flash across her aquamarine eyes as she smiled up at the Whirlwind Lancer and he let the word "revenge" leave his lips. She would let him think that’s what she wanted – revenge – because that’s exactly what she sought…

Just not on the person he was thinking of.

“Do I wish to rejoin your ranks? Why else would I return here? Knowing that I am thought a traitor? Knowing that by merely setting foot within this castle my life is practically forfeit?” Larxene mimicked Xaldin’s actions, folding her hands and resting her chin upon them. “Yes… I do desire to rejoin the ranks of the Organization. I see now that my actions – my leaving – were perhaps the not the most prudent…”

Larxene took on a more serious expression when the image of Ansem appeared before her.

So their leader has returned from Oblivion knows where… Scheme or no scheme, the Heartless, and the Dark XII itself, still posed a serious problem. Apparently this strife with their Others was not going to end anytime soon. Perhaps it was good fortune, Ansem’s return. If the Organization desired to persevere, they would need to bolster their numbers – need her.

“And your welcome is appreciated, Xaldin,” Larxene said softly. But it’s not your acceptance that perturbs me now. I must question what the others will have to say…”