I started writing on the train ride in this morning. Bleh spewing words

He’s cultured, well spoken, incredibly intelligent, and attractive to boot. He seems to have it all, to have his life together, but above all things Ienzo is a skilled liar.
He’s cultured, but it’s all from reading and not experience, all his intelligence only book smarts. He may have a pretty face, but beneath his labcoat his body is littered with burns and scars, his mind bears the worst of the damage however.
He’s detached the very idea of himself into two separate beings. The child he used to be and the young man he should have grown into: Ienzo, and the twisted heartless individual he used to be: Zexion. Two people he insists are separate individuals, not differing stages of his own life.
His only proof of such a claim is his own mad delusions, in which Zexion appears only to taunt and torture him, which only worsens his mental state.
But it’s not only him, as an Illusionist with a weak grip on his own abilities can only keep his vivid hallucinations from spilling over into someone else’s view for so long.

He looks at the young man sitting on the couch, his legs crossed at the knee, cradling the china tea cup in his hands as he stares out the window, surely lost in some other world of his.

He remembers when this man was still a small child, unaware of what sort of life fate had dealt him. The little boy who didn’t speak.

Now the young man who had died twice, who had lived through more than anyone should ever have to.

“What happened?” Even asked himself softly. Ienzo just gives a soft smile, sipping his tea.

“I grew up.”

“Do you ever miss him?” Ienzo asked, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his thighs. The stools in the examination room weren’t the most comfortable thing, but it was better than standing.

“I try not to think about it.” Lea admitted, trying not to think about the IV currently in his arm. He hadn’t thought a routine checkup back in Radiant Garden would lead to this but…Ienzo could be so persuasive (demanding) when he wanted to. “We used to be really close and then things kinda…changed. Y’know?”

It was Isa who had changed, not him. And Isa was gone now, only Saix remained.

“And? Who’s to say things can’t change back?” Ienzo stood up, taking a clipboard from the counter and noting a few things, taking a moment to turn his attention back to the keyblader. It was hard to believe this man, hardly more than a teenager based on his actions and mindset, was supposed to be a savior. One of the seven.

“You’ll never know until you try.”

Beginning Of The End

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Beyond The Wall Of Sleep

dawnofillusions:

Sleep no longer comes easily.

The torture of the commonplace and the nightmarish hallucinations made sure to keep him awake, along with the stimulants to try and ward of such things.

It’s only when he gives in to pure exhaustion that he finally can sleep. Though it does not come peacefully.

In his restless dreams he sees a town. Small, and seemingly peaceful, but as he walks the empty streets he knows better. Something shifts beneath the ash that clings to his boots, lurks out of his vision within the fog.

The more he visits, the more he sees.

And though some would describe the beasts, the beings, that seem to live here as monsters or abominations he finds something…welcoming in them.

In the waking world he begins to feel uncomfortable, out of place, like an alien within his own skin. Sedatives are the answer, allowing him to see the town more often, to stay longer.

Zexion begins to wish for the ability of flee his mortal form, to remain here. In a place he truly feels at home.

Something is coming.

“They’ve come to witness the Beginning. The rebirth of Paradise, despoiled by mankind.”

A World of Madness

dawnofillusions:

He can’t recall how he got here.

Everything feels heavy, all but his chest, with he now knows is hollow and as dark as the endless yawning void.

His mind is racing, digging for answers.

There’s the past, the one he knows he has lived, the very same that he stepped from to become lost in this unimaginably thick fog.

But he isn’t lost. Somewhere deep down he feels he knows this all too well, almost as if the map of this…this place is etched into his very soul.

A red pyramid, burnt flesh, sacraments, orders, the halo, a seal. He can see it all clear as day, though the sun never shines here.

He turns his eyes up to the welcome sign, though he doesn’t need it to know where he is. No, the sign only gives him a name that others may call this place.

To him it feels like home.

Zexion steps into the ash, and he feels reborn.

Disintegration Is Quite Painless, I Assure You

dawnofillusions:

“You still haven’t told him?”

“Of course not. It’s pointless to waste his time with hallucinations. No matter how frequent or..disturbing they may be.”

Ienzo winces when Zexion suddenly sits on the bed, straddling his hips and looking down at him. Blue eyes seeming to glow in the dim light.

“Are you not aware of your situation? Of what your danger really is? Here. Let me show you.”

Zexion reaches up, beginning to unzip his black coat. As he pulls it open, his skin comes with the leather, as does muscle and bone.

Ienzo only begins to feel uncomfortable when thick, inky black, deathly cold, blackness pours out of the Nobody’s chest, staining his own clothing at the bedding.

And within Zexion’s chest was a nothing but a void, seemingly endless and as black as the deepest pits of space.

And then his hand begins to press into Ienzo’s chest. “You have something I want, and I won’t leave until I have it.”

Ienzo screams and wakes up in a cold sweat.

Into The Void

dawnofillusions:

“Have you taken your medication today?” Even asks at the end of their morning coffee, so he’s not surprised to see Ienzo roll his eyes, clearly annoyed.

“Of course, I did. Just like every single morning.”

“Well, we need to manage your condition…”

“It’s anemia, nothing that major.”

A moment passes before Even stands, taking their dishes to the nearby sink. “You’re more irritable lately. Is something the matter?”

“Why don’t you tell him?” Zexion asks from where’s he seated on the couch, looking between the two Somebodies. “Why don’t you tell him you’ve been seeing me lately in every mirror you pass by?”

Zexion stands, circling the table, leaning heavily on Ienzo’s chair and leaning in to whisper into his ear. “Or how I visit you in dreams? How you have the Lexicon again, telling you all sorts or nightmarish things in foreign and arcane languages? Tell him of the screaming that never stops?”

“Ienzo?”

“Hm? Oh. Oh, no I’m fine. I promise, Even.”

The Night Is Dark And Full Of Terrors

dawnofillusions:

“When was the last time you slept?”

“I don’t accurately recall, why?” Ienzo looks up from his book, slipping an excess bit of paper between the pages to mark his place. He knows if there’s going to be a conversation he’ll be too distracted to keep reading.

“Well, I’m here.”

“Ah, I suppose you are.”

“And you’re not frightened?”

“Well, no, you’re clearly just a figment of my mind. I’ve been working too hard and taking stimulants to stay alert. It’s no surprise that I am hallucinating to some degree.”

Zexion sighs and he moves to sit on the foot of Ienzo’s bed, plucking the book from the other’s hands, giving a short laugh. “Lovecraft, really? You don’t have enough eldritch abominations in your life already?”

“You’re the one with—”

“And we’re one in the same, in case you lost some braincells when you regained a heart.”

“We are nothing alike. You’re cruel and sick and I’m…human.”

A short laugh from the Nobody as he stands, shaking his head and pocketing the book.

“You can’t just erase my existence, Ienzo. We never were human. Sleep well.”

Ienzo wakes to an all too familiar black tome on his bedside table. 

Headcanon idea/word vomiting

Hatoful thing under the cut. Possibly shitty because it’s 1 AM and I got back from a con today?

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