entrancelogs | [Vexen and Elphaba, complete]

[Vexen and Elphaba, complete]

Who: Vexen

cyrophilia and Elphaba

notfabala
Where: Room 313
When: Evening-ish, November 6; I'm willing to play timeline fairy if YOU are~
Rating: PG-13; you never know!
Summary: Vexen follows through on an older offer.
the Story:

This an unexpected state of affairs, really, but he supposes this is better than staying in the room. He's still not sure whatever possessed him to offer Elphaba any aid to begin with, but it's a welcome distraction now. He's not furious with the berserker. He can't be, really.

Frustrated, on the other hand-- definitely. He's glad Saix is out, if only because it makes it easier to leave his room himself.

The academic paces briskly through the corridors of the mansion towards the room she's given directions to-- her own, he presumes. He's uncertain as to just how closely she stays with Luxord, but last he heard, the gambler was still rooming with the Superior, so he can only guess. Naturally, he prefers not to. Interpersonal relationships are not his field of expertise in any form.

It's taken him a moment to decide what to wear, since he'll be moving around the halls-- look juvenile and in pink, or force himself to wear the garish, lacy coat. Either one is humiliating enough. In the end, he goes for the more casual outfit, although he chooses to forgo the beanie and shades, leaving his hair down to pool over his shoulders.

Eventually he arrives at room 313 with very little flourish, pink hoodie and pink slacks and all, and knocks on the door. "It's Vexen."

As if he needs any introduction, really.

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Elphaba wondered if he would actually come. He didn't seem too ready to help her, much less, she wasn't very willing to admit that she wanted the help. Her pride and sense of self was being compromised, and that was one thing she loathed more.

However, since she was stuck here without her Grimmerie, she needed help where ever she could attain it. She heard a knock on the door, and she stood. Her slippers always seemed be go missing. Instead of looking for them, she went to answer the door without them.

Upon opening the door, she didn't mean to laugh, but she couldn't help herself. "Can I help you powder puff?" she commented between snickering.

Of course, she knew it was Vexen. Something about these organization men, they all had the same face structure and long hair. Granted the seriousness in their faces varied slightly, but it was still easily detectable.

"Hello Vexen. Come in," she moved aside, a grin still on her face.

Vexen isn't sure how this will turn out himself. At best, he'll have someone he can look forward to speaking with again. At worst, he'll simply know to avoid her for all the rest of his time in this mansion.

Which could be a while.

He doesn't quite scowl when Elphaba snickers, but he might twitch a little, faintly, and the lines under his eyes deepen a little as his face tightens a bit. "Good evening, Elphaba," he greets, a little stiffly.

He supposes the tone of her skin should surprise him-- viridian isn't exactly usual-- but after seeing talking dog-men and mage-ducks, it's hardly enough to make him loft a brow. He moves past her and into the room, nodding faintly at the woman before glancing around.

"I presume you have a more concrete idea of what you would like some aid with." Straight to the point.

"NO use for idle chit-chat eh? You Organization men are quite tight lipped." she mused. Was she actually trying to be sociable? This place was surely making her loose her mind. Normally she wouldn't even have made a joke, or even a slightest comment that could be even considered a joke. Here she was hoping for idle chit-chat and a laugh! She wondered if this place had some weird mind altering forces.

"I want to make my skill more prominent. I can make things happen, but not at will. Sometimes I don't even know I'm doing it." she said, moving to her bed and sitting on the corner. She nodded to the chair for him to sit.

"Not much, no," Vexen admits, maybe a touch rueful. He's still not happy about something, obviously enough, but it's somewhat unfair to project his irritation on someone else, so he makes the effort to choke his tone down to something less waspish. "But no, not all of us are." Xemnas comes to mind, and his lips may twitch at the thought.

He moves over to the chair Elphaba indicates, sitting himself down carefully. "I see," he muses. Doesn't sound like a normal magical talent, really; he's learnt spells through rote and practice. Lots of it. "Sounds quite unpredictable. What sort of things have you done?" The question is rude, but the professional tone and the interested look on Vexen's face suggest that he simply isn't aware of how poorly its worded as his scientific curiosity gets the better of him.

She grins "I don't kiss and tell, Vexen." She winces. Another joke.. damn. She sighs and stretches her legs. She knows what he means and is reluctant to answer.

"I killed a boy with an icicle." her voice was mild, not much of any emotion. The boy deserved it, after all. Tormenting Liir, leaving him to die in that well. He deserved it dammit.

She glances up at Vexen, and smiles. "I don't know if it's magical or talent, but I've also turned a monkey into a Monkey. Or... taught him to be a Monkey."

The joke seems to surprise Vexen; it's not like he's hung around a lot of lighthearted-- no pun intended-- company recently. For a moment, he doesn't know quite how to react, but then he lets himself smile faintly, ignoring the opportunity for a condescending comment in favor of nodding in acknowledgment.

"Icicles tend to be a good way of killing people, yes." He says this with as absolutely straight face as possible. Well. Ice is the magic he has affinity for.

He takes note of the different emphasis Elphaba puts on the same words, nodding faintly. "Doing so isn't usual, I take it."

"Its an odd task. Some would say that Animals evolve naturally. Some say they are just for the taming. I, myself, think that its remarkable that an Animal can have a conscious just like humans."

Elphaba stands and makes her way to the window. She opens it and inhales the crisp November air. "Too bad Chistery had so much more to learn because I was..." she cut the sentence off.

"So what do you think can be done?" she didn't turn to face him. She hated showing any signs of vunerablity, and right now, she felt quite vunerable.

"Ah." If Vexen shows any sign of acknowledging the moment of weakness, it's not immediately obvious; for all his tendency to get worked up when provoked, IV can mantain a fairly decent poker face if and when he must. Besides, it's not as if he has any pity or disdain to show-- Elphaba's regrets, clearly, are her own.

Instead of lingering, he lets Elphaba change the topic, lacing his fingers together as he thinks. "It will require a few more inquiries before I can answer that question," he answers, rather seriously. "For instance, I need to know-- was there anything common linking these incidents where your power worked? Aside from you, of course," he adds, unnecessarily. "It will give me a better idea of where you stand."

She runs a bony finger through her hair. She was trying to remember the circumstances for these events.

"The boy tormented Liir, leaving him in a well to die. I suppose it was anger that triggered the... attack." She winces, still looking out the window. She wasn't sure if she liked where this all was going.

"And here, Eiri was taunting me, so I made his cigarette butt end up in his beer can. It was quite amusing, but still... Anger provoked it."

She turns and stares at him. "Anger isn't one of my favorite emotions. I'd rather not be angry to make this possible..." her voice quieting.

"Anger is generally a poor focus anyway," Vexen says calmly, meeting her gaze with a bit of a ... thoughtful expression, almost, the way his brows knit together. "You become ... clouded. More likely to commit errors you'll regret, I suppose. So no; you're better off not trying to be angry."

He sits up straighter in his chair, still thinking. There's an odd detachment to his voice as he settles into a more scientific mindset, the unconscious shift in mental gears clearly visible.

"Passion of any sort," he says, with the sound of someone who's reciting a lesson taught long ago, "Is not the appropriate way of invoking power. Ideally, one should reach for will-- or desire, I suppose. I expect some part of you truly, fiercely wanted something to happen, at those occasions you mentioned, and so... something did. The anger was just what it took to make you want it that badly."

Then, he blinks, as if shaken out of a reverie. "Ah. But that's a bit of a tangent there, and I'm making broad assumptions, in your case. My apologies." He clears his throat. "The point is, you're not the only one who experiences that sort of thing, and there are ways to make summoning that will easier-- and without having to rely on emotions."

She listens to these words, which seem to be spoken from memory without conviction. She nods slowly and crosses her arms.

"Emotions are overrated, yes, but to turn them off completely? To be able to pull from a source without no emotional background... How can that be done?"

Her lips purse in deep thought, almost as if she has something else to say, something along the lines of how she didn't ask for this power, how she'd rather not exist at all. She decides against it and raises an eyebrow.

"Apparently, Oraganization folk seem to have a keen hold on being emotionless. Some of you anyway." she murmurs.

"It's the guiding principle for the kind of magic I practice, at least," Vexen murmurs, shaking his head. "It seems odd, but even people with hearts can manage it-- you just have to focus on... something. The spell you want to weave, or the intention in your mind. Some have an easier time than most." He blinks at her, speculative. "Frankly speaking, you shouldn't have much of a problem, if you have half as much strength of will as I suspect you do."

And as to the second, well.

He shrugs. "Well, yes. It seems too much like bad acting otherwise, when you're acting a part but not feeling the role."

"Should I take that as a compliment Vexen? What will Luxord think of your hitting on me?" she smiles teasingly at him.

"So just concentrate on what I want, rather than the emotion I feel at the moment?" she muses.

She wanders closer to Vexen and concentrates hard. This better work... she thinks to herself. She stares at his bubble gum pink clothing. She imagines the garments turning black.

Slowly, the clothing grows darker shade of pink. Soon it becomes a deep red, changing between red and black. She cocks her head to the side, staring at one particular thread that sticks out from the hem of the shirt. It turns black. Soon, the rest of the threads are black as well.

"Black is your color, I'm assuming." she says evenly once his clothing is all the same shade.

"I don't want to know how Luxord thinks," Vexen mutters, a little darkly-- he doesn't really know how to respond to teasing well, but he ducks his head anyway, an imitation of embarrassment. "And yes, that should work. Accomplishing a goal is a matter of wanting it."

He makes a faint, startled noise as his clothing begins to change color, but it's rapidly absorbed by curious observation, his attention caught as he watches it turn from pink to black-- even that monkey is gone, now. For a moment, he has nothing to say.

"...Yes," he finally says, looking up with an arched brow. "Well, that was fast. I've a coat that's gone an absurd shade of pink; do you think you could turn that back?" He's only half-joking.

She laughs a little. "If you do not feel emotion, don't act surprised or embarassed." she smiles, crossing her arms, obviously pleased with herself.

She opens her mouth, surprised that he made a joke, even if it was a half one. "A coat that needs to be black you say? Don't you think the pink will set off the black nicely though?" she smiles.

"It's habit," he smirks, lifting his head up as he shrugs. "Besides, I'm not Saix-- I can hardly remain as blankfaced as he does for more than half an hour, much less days at a stretch. That requires more effort than falsifying emotion." He feels a little mean-spirited, insulting the berserker when he's not around to hear him, but he quashes the pang of mild guilt down.

Not thinking about it.

"Not this pink," he mutters, to the second. "It's practically florescent, and it has lace." He shudders in mock-disgust, then calms, eying Elphaba with slight solemnity. "Thank you, though. I'm glad I no longer have to resemble some escaped carnival treat."

She turns her head slightly. "So, Saix takes the no emotion thing to extremes huh? That man is an odd one, indeed." she sighs and rests her hand on Vexen's shoulder.

"What exactly is the point of even showing false emotion? Who are you trying to please? If you don't feel anything, don't make it seem as though you do." she smiles a little.

"Florescent and lace? I'd love to see it." she grins.

"Very odd, yes. Even for a Nobody." Vexen visibly tenses at the contact-- he doesn't particularly favor his personal space being invaded, and while he thinks he may be slowly growing to respect the woman a little more, she hasn't quite earned the right to be touching him like that. Still, he tries to keep calm.

He flinches anyway. "Memories shape us, to some extent. We cannot feel something, but we can remember what it was like. A burn doesn't need to constantly hurt for you to recall what the pain was like, yes?" He shrugs; it may be a way to attempt to shake off Elphaba's hand as well, if an unconscious one. "It's hard to let go of a lifetime of habit, and the muscle-memory of expression will always remain. I know I'm easier to provoke than most." He makes a face. "As you say, Saix is odd."

"And... no. You might, but I wouldn't."

She looks at him, not realizing she was touching him. When he shrugs, she bits her lip, holding her own hand. To save face she coughs a little.

"Why remember a feeling if it is of no benefit?" she shrugs and sighs "Recalling something from memory and reacting in such a way, only proves that there is emotion and feeling. Even in the slightest bit. How else would one know how to react?" she shakes her head, not wanting to give herself a headache with this on going debate.

If Vexen and Saix insists that Nobodies can't feel, why would Luxord be so apologetic? Why would he want to make amends, spend time with her, and the like? She was convinced that they had emotions and feelings. Just like everyone else. Living or dead.

"Aw. So shy. It's kind of charming." she snickers and walks toward the door.

"You are welcome to join me for a snack. I'm starving." she says over her shoulder, looking at him.

"It is of benefit, but only to a certain extent." His face returns to its usual calm when her hand lifts away. "Remembering things is a way of... reminding ourselves that we won't settle for this, in some cases. That we want to become whole again." The scientist shakes his head. "It's difficult to explain to people who aren't Nobodies themselves," he says wryly. "It's different, when you can sense that something's... missing. We still have the capacity to react, but even animals will respond to stimulus. It's our emotions that have vanished, not our bodies."

Honestly speaking, he could probably wax on about this for ages, but he suspects he won't convince her no matter how long he talks, so he simply closes his eyes and rises to his feet, in the end, tugging at the material of his clothes. "In any case, never mind it. We're dead, and we're not going to be finding our hearts anytime soon, and that's an end to it."

He hesitates at the invitation and the offhanded joke, briefly confused again, before he nods, a little stiffly. It's a good excuse to remain out of his room, though he won't say as much. "I may as well. I suppose if you have any further questions about magic or will or the like, you'r free to ask."

She shook her head. "I'm actually quite pleased with the notion of concentration, rather than anger. It's not as taxing. I think I'm content for the time being. However I know I can ask you. Unless this was a one time chance."

They walk out of the of the room and she locks her door. Even if no one would enter her room, she wasn't too keen on knowing that someone could take her room, almost like she had to a few other residents before finding her own.

They stroll down the corridor in silence. A chatty scientist and a novice witch. What an odd pairing. Perhaps the only thing they had in common is that they are dead.

Elphie looks up the hall way and a thought strikes her. "If we are dead, and we know we are dead, why do we go through the living process? I mean, why are we going to eat?" she asks, partially making conversation.

"I see. Well, I wouldn't mind speaking with you again. You appear... sensible enough." That's a welcome change from the diviner, or the adolescents all over the place, and Vexen appreciates the chance to talk to someone at least marginally mature.

When Elphaba asks her question, Vexen shrugs. "I don't know," he answers, honestly enough. "Maybe because the food's actually better than some of the things I had in life." He wrinkles his nose a little. "Besides, it's something to do. Bit dull around here, from all accounts."

She chuckles and they go inside. "As long as you don't spout that rubbish of Organization and such. You're all right Vexen. All though, if you repeat those words, the clothing goes back to pink." she smiles.

They go inside and eat some tasty food.

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[Vexen and Elphaba, complete]

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