khai.
/ᐠ - ˕ -マ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
♛ᅠTHE SCHOLAR &. THE SOVEREIGNᅠ♛
The numbing croon of the ship enveloped the galvanized interior, almost discordant with how each hum from indvidual engines cast a timbre that vaguely harmonizes with the other. A perplexing choir—one that Xathos had been beside himself in unpiecing with every outing.
It was borne of habit. The sovereign would pour into the particulars of these missions prior to its official assignment until they were etched into the creases of his mind. Every opportunity to seize a moment that would bring him recognition, each nexus as far as he could estimate that he deems critical enough for him to be present in—as commanding as Valyrixis' intonation is of everyone's attention, his would have been wasted.
He too, after all, was a perfectionist.
In the solemnity of the ship's chamber, amongst the IX, it was the opportune moment for him to mull over all he must. There wer no room for doubts, nor apprehensions. No matter how lethal the adversary, he will be the champion that will cut them down.
The angles of his eyebrows fell in neat, appropriate crease as his features rested in sworn gravity. His eyes met his captain's, but he would only come to as she would list those who he is to be with for this reconnaissance. "Heh." he chuckles low under his breath.
Almost too naturally, a relaxed mien would be donned at the mention of his name alongside Zexal's. XATHOS &. ZEXAL had quite a ring to it, no? It was almost out of a fairy tale, he muses; the sovereign and his scholar.
A surreptitious glance was cast to Zexal's side, catching the ornaments of his chiffon robes within his peripherals before catching the man's own eye. A repulsed expression from the academic was traded for a knowing smirk from the heartholder. Quite an interesting turn of events.
The glances between them wasn't the only thing shared, however. The both of them had allowed themselves the company of their own thoughts throughout the briefing. As earnest as Xathos' own was, however, Zexal's was one that betrayed a more internal motive.
The lack of any following questions to Valyrixis' candor would prompt her to leave her subordinates to their own devices. The acoustics of the lobby swelled with disorderly steps and hushed dialogue between the partitioned groups, and he could not help but click his tongue. A malaise of the leader, perhaps, or an affliction of the group entirely.
In any case, his own steps were clipped and confident. How could he not be? An extraction device was in his hands, and he was to be in territory allegedly teeming with Heartless—all with essence for him to personally harvest. Indiscriminate hours of toil had allowed him this opportunity; a chance to surge through his experiments with unprecedented velocity. There was no moment more perfect.
Hands held firmly behind his back, posture straightening with an excitement he himself was even remiss to confess he felt, he would forget that the definition of perfect was to be beside him.
"I admire your fervor, Zexal." Xathos sings, a baritone that was too crisp, too loud, and too Xathos for the man's liking, his mood plunging so fast he felt it stab his gut. "With me here, this mission will be our easiest yet."
"Firstly, don't mistake how needed you are." The scholar sighs, averting his eyes away from the Fourth as if he'd be blinded if he stared for longer. The two found themselves stood outside the ship as it slowly made its descent from its heights, the winds whipping their hairs into the sky's reaches. "Secondly, don't talk to me as if we're friends."
He found no reason not to hide his disdain from the insufferable man. If there was one thing he would begrudgingly appreciate about him is that he could be very open about how he loathes him without repercussion. Like talking to a wall—a really conceited one.
And as expected, the bite of the Second's words fell to the thickest skin known to the Hearts. A gallant, droll laugh escaped the nobody's chest. With eyes closed and arms folded, even his revelry felt elysian; almost adding insult to injury. "You speak as if you have a choice, friend." Xathos simpered.
The scholar only pinched the bridge of his nose to placate the onset of a migraine as the organization would find their way onto the outskirts of the town. Perhaps the weight of the mission was finally felt that the distance was easily crossed. To Zexal's relief, it appeared that Xathos also had confronted the situation with appropriate sobriety because the travel was largely wordless.
If only someone would wipe that smile off his face too.
The learned man would be the one to break the silence first, colluding with the blonde, and the replica in tow to discuss what they are to do. If information was needed, then intuitively, the penman should be dealt with first—the heart of the town's news; even if he were to know nothing of true note, his ears in every corner would be made judicious use of in the organization's hands.
The scholar typically had no issue with missions that demanded reasonable stealth; to blend in with the commonfolk enjoying the docile townlife. He underestimated how difficult it was to do so with a walking lighthouse beside them who seems hellbent on attracting every eye in the realm to his general direction.
If it was worth anything, that meant Xathos was an excellent magnet for attention while he relayed his thoughts to the replica, quietly and casually to waylay potential suspicion the sovereign was unable to accost. Ambling across the paths, the blonde would pleasantly smile to the folks who readily reciprocated the warmth he extended as Zexal and the replica trailed close behind.
"I am familiar enough with the vicinity, so I'll lead us to Elijah. We aim to be surgical about this; affable, but efficient. The Heartless festers with each passing second." Zexal instructs, already outlining a plan for the three to share. The sooner he can lay claim to what he needs, the sooner he can continue working on his opus. "Xathos. You are our most- Xathos?"
A thin line of panic wound across the height of his body, the tension clawing the tips of his fingers, eyes frantically searching for the man. Where did he go? Did they take a wrong turn somewhere? Or was it a Heartless-
"Excuse me, miss." Xathos smiled, hands grasping another wrapped package to shuttle to the four that he already had bundled close to his waist. With him, a woman with stygian locks and bangs clamoring for the dropped items beside him. "For a moment of your time in exchange, if you would allow me."
"That idiot." he hissed.
If that migraine didn't come before, it's definitely here now.
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