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Characters: Zexion
Content: Nobodies
Setting: Still kickin' in Joutenheim
Time: Afternoon.
Warnings: None.

Zexion never really understood the gist of physical fighting. Neither did he really see the point of engaging in it, but it was all fine if others did. After all - as long as he was safe on the sidelines, or keeping a shield, they could do whatever they wanted, no matter how pointless it seemed.

A few Creeper-birds were flocked at his feet, strange and pulsing. All Nobodies did that - all the lesser ones, at least. They swayed, almost constantly, they always moved. Like a sick heartbeat.

“Now,” he said, straightening up and looking down at the streets, from one end to the other. He never really had much patience for the semantics of warfare, and nor did he usually wait around to talk to the inhuman Nobodies, no matter how human they were at the core. “We have things to do. I’m not going to explain this very well, but the best thing for you to do is to get rid of whatever you can.”

Zexion pocketed his hands, and the Creepers disappeared one by one, reappearing in the more-populated distance, amid Dusks and other white creatures. The gate would likely be closed - after all, there would be too much going on to be assigning journals and admitting people.

It would be a flat night, but relaxing.

It was such a shame they didn't need more mind games.

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The last thing Meta Knight could remember before that moment was sheathing his sword after killing Wolfrath. Again.

And now, here he was, standing outside a dome that was only small in comparison to those beyond it, with a gate framed by a pair of -gigantic- statues. Beyond it, he could clearly see buildings, and (very tall) people, and strange white creatures that resembled birds but somehow weren't.

When those birds began attacking people, Meta Knight frowned and made his way past the gate. These people were in danger, and they needed all the help they could get...

Taking to the air to bring the fight to his newfound foes, he considered the situation. He was vastly outnumbered in a strange land; even if he did have help, how was he to know they would not turn on him after the battle was won?

Much as he hated to admit it, Meta Knight wished he was home.

But now was not the time for such ruminations; now was the time to aid people in need.

Such was a knight's duty.

He was pleased to see that the guards at the gates were still admitting people, after a few moments. After all, Creepers didn't exactly do a stellar job at attacking - they were the types to sneak and crawl along until they caught people by surprise.

Zexion liked this sort of battle. The sort that kept people waiting, on the edge of their seats, on the balls of their feet. It kept them thinking. It made them try to guess which way the Creepers would move next, or how they'd shape-shift next.

Anticipation was the greatest thing about physical battle.

And down below, the people were reacting. It was pleasing.

"Get rid of them," he muttered.

From his airborne position, Meta Knight could see the pulsating white things quite clearly; already they had taken down several of the tall ones. At their core, however, seemed to be another of the people, this one quite different from the others with his odd-colored fur and long black cloak.

Surmising that this was probably the source of the trouble, Meta swooped down and landed behind him, Galaxia drawn.

"And just what," he asked, his voice lightly touched by a Spanish accent, "do you think you are doing to these people?"

He turned, slightly, just acknowledging the other's presence, and looked it for a mere second. Turning back to look out over the streets and the gate, he said, "I'm not doing anything to them, directly. In fact, right now I'm just watching what they're doing."

There wasn't much to do about this one, other than call up a few Dusks to stand between them. Zexion wasn't taking chances with armed things, oh no.

"What do you think is going on right now?"

Beneath his mask, Meta Knight frowned. "I'd say you're turning monsters loose on these people at random in an effort to kill or terrorize them. Possibly both." In a low voice that was a definite warning tone, he added, "And I suggest you stop now."

Admittedly, at less than a foot tall, such a threatening tone was almost laughable. But anyone who had the foolish notion that he couldn't back it up, even against much larger foes, was sadly mistaken... much to their detriment.

Meta Knight had learned from his two centuries of life. Learned that, no matter how big the foe is, it always has a weakness. Always...

"Close, but not quite," Zexion said, in an oddly relaxed tone - it honestly didn't bother him, to know that he was doing things that would hurt others. After all, why should it?

Some people just couldn't understand this sort of logic, or would deny that it was logical at all. Unfortunately for them, it made more sense to take advantage of situations, and if Zexion couldn't feel guilt over it, then he wouldn't waste time on that guilt.

"Suggestion taken, but that's all it remains. A suggestion," he said, politely.

His eyes remained on the streets below at all times, without blinking, without moving.

A day and no more. That was all the time that had passed from Soujirou's battle in the streets. The two returned to the museum and Aizen immediately gave the boy quarters and instructions for the next day. Soujirou would accompany Aizen on his task to map out the city and memorize every detail and every secret. A slower pace may be just what he needed. Rushing through the city would prove useless and a waste of energy.

Now during this fine afternoon the pair found themselves at one of the four gates: Joutenheim. Like in many parts of the city, it seemed to be under some kind of assault. So Paixao had its own enemies, did it?

Small pulsating, bird-like creatures fluttered around the streets, though Aizen took care to lead Soujirou and himself from their sight. He had no wish to draw his sword today... or at least not at the moment. These creatures were not worth his time.

But something ahead was. Two figures, one cloaked and one in armor stood talking. Slowly, the shinigami and the boy approached, catching the last bits of the conversation.

"Suggestion taken, but that's all it remains. A suggestion."

Smiling, Aizen added, "Now, you could take that as a suggestion like he said but that would be ignoring his underlying threat, wouldn't it?"

Aizen was quite an interesting, if not confusing, man. Soujirou could not quite grasp the man's motives, or his desires, or anything really. Part of him doubted Aizen's strength, even if his confidence and words seemed to imply strength, and part of him found himself believing in some strange unspoken and unproven power. Either way, it was intriguing enough to lead him around, and he began to treat the Shinigami much like Shishio. There was a casual way in which he spoke to the man, but it was not without acknowledging that Aizen was his superior in some way.

Ah. That was curious. Soujirou looked up at the birds, but didn't seem to find them interesting. His attention was captured by the cloaked figure and the armored on. He found them both quite odd, unable to make heads or tails of them.

"Ara?" He offered a smile to Aizen's comment/question.

Zexion allowed a bit more attention to someone noticeably bigger than him - well, still not that much attention. He glanced over to Aizen and gave him an extremely relaxed look, despite noticing how armed both were. Zexion, it seemed, was completely comfortable in this situation, no matter how threatening it got. The boy next to him was given only a brief once-over - armed, but around the same height. Possibly a little too nice knowing to be any sort of a threat.

People wouldn't take kindly to being threatened by his little friends, anyway. He wasn't really expecting them to all take this in stride.

His own smile was considerably stiffer, even a bit know-it-all.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't threatened."

Meta Knight did not turn his attention to these new arrivals; he had drawn Galaxia by this point, and held it cocked low to one side. "Then hear this. I order you to stop."

Galaxia's golden blade sparked with Meta's controlled fury. This... whatever he was, was hurting people. And didn't even care to -laugh- about it! He showed no emotional reaction whatsoever. What was his purpose, if not to gain pleasure from their pain?

Whatever it was, it was about to come to a rather abrupt halt...

This whole 'threat' business was not what Aizen was interested in at the moment. Instead, he had noticed a particularly odd feeling from the boy in the long black coat. His rietsu... This was far from normal. The dead were more likely to have a higher rietsu, though shinigami were always far more superior to ordinary souls. The living had a lower rietsu still but then there were always the occasional exceptions. Even this armored knight had a normal rietsu. But the boy... It was as if he had no spiritual energy whatsoever... no rietsu... Was he alive or dead?

With a heightened curiosity, Aizen smiled. "Of course not."

"Then hear this. I order you to stop."

Now wasn't that interesting? Aizen had heard similar words before. They were something along the lines of 'I swear I will stop you.' Tsk tsk. Such strong words... Words of the weak...

"Put your sword away," Aizen said to the knight softly. "There is no need for such words."

Soujirou gave the ... whatever the thing with a sword was a curious glance. Had he less self-control the boy would have crouched down and poked at it with his finger. However, he did have some self-control and contented himself with merely giving the figure a curious glance. He didn't pay the cloaked figure that much attention, as there didn't seem to be anything interesting about him.

An order to stop. The tenken managed to stop looking at the short swordsman to give Aizen a curious glance. For some reason the man seemed interested in the other. Soujirou spared a look, but once again found nothing unusual. Now, who was going to make the first move?

There was one thing Urahara would say that he and Aizen had in common. Sure, many would say that it was their genius that they shared, but Kisuke would always nod and smile and inwardly prize himself in being smarter because he saw right through the other man. No, their similarity lay in something aside from wits or even spiritual power, it lay in their astounding capability to completely bullshit.

And being one who knew such an art, it allowed the blonde to see through Aizen's fake smiles (which he was clearly giving right now) and his outward image of total kindness. That mask was hastily constructed in the ex-captain's eyes. He could see right through it and the fact that Aizen could keep that smile on while dragging everyone in the world down with him was something Urahara would never forgive.

So that was why he was currently observing the man do what he did best: lie through those smiling shiny teeth. Grey eyes narrowed when he asked the smaller knight to put away his weapon. The smaller, also grinning boy was not going to do anything, it seemed. And the cloaked teenage looking one--Kisuke wasn't sure that he had seen a day of physical work in a very, very long time. Luckily, Aizen had given him a very good entrance word to work off of.

"Actually, I do believe there is a need for "such words", Aizen-sama." His voice came out sharp and icy as the tip of cane-form Benihime clicked along the ground, accentuating his point. Kisuke leveled a sharp gaze at the imposing man, making it clear he wasn't messing around anymore.

...After all, who said there couldn't be dramatic entrances?

"Or what?" Zexion replied, "You see, if you want to roughhouse, I will leave. But don't think I'll be taking the rest of them with me. And they won't leave until I call them off."

He gestured widely at the Creepers, the ever-rising Dusks - politely, of course, no rude pointing.

It was nearly impossible to take this situation as a threat. More and more people meant more people to concentrate on, but honestly, Zexion knew they could easily take each other out. After all - this newest one came in calmly, but the intent found under his words was as obvious as a smoking gun.

"There is need for words, but not this stupid sword-waving."

He smirked.

Aizen would have continued speaking with the knight if an extremely familiar voice did not pierce through their conversation. This was the voice of the man who had gone far within the Soul Society only to be pushed aside and forgotten in all but history. Ex-12th Division Captain, Urahara Kisuke... the creator of the Hyougoku.

"Ahh... Urahara-san. What an unexpected surprise," Aizen flashed a cunning smile as he turned to the shinigami who was now advancing on him and drawing his zanpaktou. Unfazed, Aizen waved a hand to Urahara and turned to Soujirou. "Soujirou-kun, this was a colleague of mine a long time ago. Urahara-san, this is Soujirou-kun, a talented boy who has been living in Paixao for quiet sometime but..."

The dark haired boy was still a mystery. Aizen was more than curious as to discover why his reitsu was so abnormal. "Forgive me. I don't believe I caught your name," he frowned.

Sometimes it was good that Soujirou ignored things like boredum. If not, he would have been very bored indeed. Just a lot of talking, and perhaps a little posturing. Which was all very useless when it got down to the end. The only thing that mattered was strength. Oh, a colleague of Aizen-san's. Soujirou turned his head a little, to curiously regard Urahara-san.

Odd. That was an overused word, lately, but the man was decidedly odd. Regardless, Soujirou offered him a polite bow, flashing his trademark empty smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet a colleague of Aizen-san's, Urahara-san. And Aizen-san has exaggerated, I am merely ... an errand boy." It was always polite to deny any praise. At Aizen's frown, Soujirou's eyes slid back to the unnamed one.

This was far better than running errands.

Colleague. Sure, he could play by those rules. If there was one thing Urahara had always known about Aizen was that the darker-haired man liked to play games. The kind of games that one the outside, looked quite harmless... but if they were seen properly, they were very destructive. Example: Hinamori. Example: Soul Society. Example: Tousen. Example: Gin.

Aizen brought out the absolute worst in people without even blinking. He built them up, toppled them down, and blinded them. Misleading. It was that kind of behavior that got under Kisuke's skin, made him angry to the point of irresponsibility. Fortunately, Yoruichi was the to reign him in.

Unfortunately, she was not here to reign him in.

So here he was, trading niceties and making small talk with the one man he could absolutely hate. A figment of a smirk graced his lips as he nodded his acknowledgment of Soujirou's greeting.

"A pleasure, Soujirou-san." He paused, grey eyes flicking to Aizen. "It should not come as a surprise, old friend. I thought we were close enough to know such things..."

The ex-captain also trailed off, shadows shifting on his face as he turned to the last person. How... odd. There was nothing. Nothing at all to be sensed from the boy standing there. Much like one would expect a Hollow to be, a state of empty. No- this was different. It was like the boy was a shell.

"I don't know if I should tell you," he said, smoothly, his eyes moving between the two, whose looks alone seemed to imply a rivalry. He knew something of passive aggression - he quite often used it himself, to his advantage.

But after a moment, he said, "Seeing as how it won't function as a weapon... very well. My name is Zexion. Who are you?"

His eyes moved to Uruhara, as the Nobodies below ruined the people and the streets.

Why were they so suspicious?

Paixao truly was a wonderful place. It offered so many opportunities to Aizen that were nearly impossible to decline and push away. Here had had met many people, including that of the Espada and the Soul Society. Not only did shinigami or arrancar appear, but people of other worlds entirely as well. Soujirou seemed to be an average enough boy when you considered the basics of the human body and structure but his mannerisms implied something quite different. The new young man, Zexion... well, he was a complete enigma.

"Ahh..." Aizen nodded, turning to Urahara. "I've been very busy as of late and have not seen many from the Soul Society. Forgive me for my negligence."

Again, Aizen's golden gaze flicked back toward Zexion. This person was certainly one that he had never dealt with before in his life. This fact only piqued his curiosity.

After glancing down the street, taking notice to the silvery creatures causing complete mayhem down the street, Aizen asked Zexion, "I suppose you are very busy too, Zexion-san?"

Well, if they were all going to focus on Zexion, Soujirou might as well too. He didn't have the same sort of searching gaze, however, merely curious. There wasn't much which sparked his interest, but he was well versed in taking cues from other people.

To call Soujirou easily distracted might be one way to put it, it was more that his attention span ... wandered. He couldn't really just stare at Zexion like everyone else was for too long, since that was both rude and Zexion didn't seem very exciting. The tenken turned his eyes elsewhere, after getting 'bored' of looking at Zexion. If something interesting happened, he could always look back.

Urahara flicked his eyes over the odd boy named Zexion. He could feel nothing, and although the fact slightly piqued his scientific interests, the blonde was getting frustrated at the attention Aizen was devoting to the other. Jealousy? Never. The ex-captain could see the wheels turning in the traitor's mind-- he would not be able to live with himself if he let the darker haired man include another innocent into his affairs.

"Ah, speaking of business, I had a few things to talk over with you, my friend." A thin-lipped and entirely insincere smile quirked the corner of his mouth. What he was aiming for had less to do with talking, and more to do with pounding Aizen's face into the pavement.

Tactfully pounding, of course. After he got his answers. Because he had learned from past experience that when someone has their teeth smashed in, it makes it quite a bit more difficult to speak.

A tingling sensation pricked at his fingertips. Benihime's impish laughter filled his mind. She was just as thrilled with the up and coming fight as he was. Then again, she would always be happy as long as blood was involved. Which there almost always was. He would call her a sadist, but she was just slightly devious.

He supposed that's why he was always a believer in the fact that zanpakutous chose kindred wielders.

Or souls (ha, pun intended.)

"I don't believe you answered my question," Zexion said, clearly, looking up at Aizen with little show of force for an answer. Uruhara was simply and bluntly ignored - no need in wasting time on people who showed little struggle for power, after all.

To Zexion, power was being in control of a situation, and he indeed felt in control, as long as he had one of them engaged. The boy seemed to follow the tall, brown-haired man, and the one with a hat seemed to need attention.

Hmm.

"My business has little to do with yours, until you answer."

"Ah. Of course," Aizen smiled despite himself. It was very rare for him to be addressed in such a way that Zexion had but his curiosity forced Aizen to ignore that fact. Hiding any surprise he continued, "My name is Aizen Sousuke. I am sure you heard me introducing both of my friends earlier, Zexion-san."

Aizen glanced back at Soujirou and Urahara at the mention of them, thoughts churning. Already he had a job planned for Soujirou though it would take quite some time to explain. Time was simply something Aizen did not have.

And Urahara... They had spoken only once before and that was through the journals. A face-to-face encounter would prove to be very... interesting to say the least.

If Soujirou had any amount of intuition, it would be for when people wanted something from him. It had become a bit of a necessity to survive when he had been younger, and it had served him well with Shishio as well. The boy sent Aizen a bit of a sidelong glance, the kind that could be interpreted as anything.

Subtly, also, had been a skill Soujirou had learned and continued to employ. He didn't have any interest in this sort of thing, and while it may be considered rude...

"...excuse me, for just a second. If you need me~" He made a hand motion, indicating that one would merely have to say his name. Then the tenken moved a step or three away from the group and pulled out his journal. While most of the people who used these things confused him greatly, it would be more interesting than listening to these three posture.

Urahara withdrew, if only slightly, from the current conversation. He could tell the one named Zexion had no interest in him whatsoever, and really... that suited him just fine. One less thing to worry about. It always worked better for him if people didn't know exactly who they were dealing with. The blonde man liked taking them by surprise in the end.

Resting up against a wall and observing Aizen (and his newest aide), Kisuke's thoughts turned inward and toward the upcoming fight. He had only seen the darker-haired man fight a few times while he was still in Soul Society. Even then, that wasn't much to go by-- Aizen had, after all, been playing the fool at the time. However, from what he had heard from Ichigo, the traitor's main source of power was the initial release of his zanpakutou. Avoid that, and avoid being toyed with. Sounded easy enough, but Sousuke was cunning, so Urahara was ready to give him that hand.

In other words, he'd have to avoid that release like the plague.

If he didn't, there was a high chance of getting ensnared by the controlling effect it held on shinigami. Kisuke was not about to become a slave to such a man.

"A pleasure to meet you. I did hear their names," he replied, "but it's common manners to be personally introduced to someone, instead of going off of assumptions."

It wasn't really a pleasure, it was just polite.

As far as business went, was it really so obvious? He could stand there and oversee Dusk and Creepers all night, without a single bit of worry over how busy he was. Supervision was simple. If he wanted, he could go down and fetch himself a drink and a bite to eat, and then he'd maybe consider himself busy.

"I'm not busy."

He gave Soujirou a sidelong glance, eyes briefly skimming the journal, and asked, "Is that thing fun, boy?"

Aizen politely nodded in agreement with Zexion's words but soon found them difficult to concentrate on. His shifted toward Urahara who was now unnaturally quite. All the hostile words and suggestions were now cloaked beneath a placid expression that was overshadowed by the brim of the earthly hat. The shinigami's purpose was far from hidden. The animosity between the two had grown to unthinkable levels throughout the decades, though they all began and revolved around one item: the hyougoku, the prize of Aizen Sousuke.

However, the ex-captain became torn between two things: speaking with Urahara and unraveling the mystery of Zexion and his non-existent reitsu. But Paixao was a game and in this game, choices must be made.

"Soujirou-kun," Aizen tore his eyes from Zexion to the boy. "I have an errand for you. Within this city there is a man that goes by the name of Oscuro. Use whatever resources you have to find him and bring him to the museum. I will meet you there in due time. You would be incredibly helpful if you could do this."

With orders said, Sousuke turned to the Nobody once again with the same pleasant smile. "Forgive me, Zexion-san, but I have pressing matters that I must discuss with my colleague and must cut our meeting short." The shinigami bowed respectively before turning on a heel with the rustle of stark white cloth around his ankles.

He did not look back. His eyes were set forward as he left the area. A hand rested upon the pommel of his sword. He called back to Urahara, "You had questions for me, Kisuke?"

Soujirou turned a smile to Zexion. He tilted his head to the side, as if contemplating an answer. Then he nodded, but didn't answer verbally as he was receiving an order from Aizen. An errand order, seemed like he was destined to run errands. Oh well, it wasn't as if he couldn't.

"Oscuro to the museum. Sounds like a field trip!" Soujirou grinned, and then tapped on the ground with his toe. Probably, first, he should make a post to that message board thing. See if there was an Oscuro that way, and of course, Oscuro wasn't here so he would have to excuse himself. "Forgive me, Zexion-san, Urahara-san, but I will take my leave from you."

With that he shukuchi'd away.

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