These deceptions we play [active]

[sceadu-gemynd.livejournal.com]

Character(s): Zexion and the Master
Content: Zexion upholds his end of a deal
Setting: Outside City Hall
Time: The morning after this post
Warnings: Deception, illusion, the Master's crazy

To be quite honest, Zexion hadn't intended for things to end up as they had. He'd only really left himself anonymous so as to properly chastise the man without casting suspicion on his journal. Ian would hardly have spoken as he had. That being said, when such a promising opportunity all but landed in his lap, he hadn't been about to let it get away from him. He could let the new mayor know of the events that transpired later, or perhaps see if he couldn't convince Naminé into working her magic to make him believe that he had truly been there. But that would come later. First he would need to 'prove' himself to a madman.

Of course, he was hardly going to appear as he truly was. No, that would have been tantamount to suicide. He was known by appearance, although only to the longer term residents. Still, he wasn't going to risk even that, and so he had carefully hidden himself away under a patchwork thing of illusion and truth until the man who was standing there wasn't Zexion of the Organization at all. No, the man standing outside the thorny barrier surrounding was one of the natives of the city, blond-haired and blue-eyed, standing proud and tall (or rather, taller than Zexion's own less-than-impressive frame) and looking quite thoroughly disinterested in the whole affair. He could have been anyone, but for the red flower sitting at his lapel, as fake as the flowers in Paixao ever were.

And true to his word, he was perfectly alone. One solitary man against a nebulous unknown, but neither Zexion nor Praetoris much cared for that. What mattered was that a debt was fulfilled and point proven. The rest would see to itself, in time.

Comments

[mastertemplate.livejournal.com]

The Master turned with a face of disbelief at "Praetoris" and his sense of annoying dismissal. "Forgive my manners, I'll talk a little clearer so you can understand better. Maybe use smaller words," he said while giving his head a greater turn to look at the disguised man. "When you tell me who you really are, I don't need your name. I need to know who you are. Are you aiming for something, are you a hustler, are you really wanting to be mayor, are you the six fingered man, you see? Your name is about as useful as chocolate teapot."

He put his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the wall of the building behind them. "Just tell me, Boss...who exactly do you work for?"