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

[sceadu-gemynd.livejournal.com]

Who was he? He was many things, to be picked up and left by the waysides as needed. He'd been a scientist, and before that a quiet young boy. He was a schemer and illusionist. He was far more people than the city might have ever guessed, walking around (as he was now) under a respectable and healthy set of illusions. Misplaced spark-mage or curious scholar or sometimes even simply (as now) one of the blue-eyed, blond-haired citizens of the city. Or nothing, if he wanted to not be seen, though that was a rare occasion.

And he was part of the darker undercurrent of the city. The hidden side, pulling threads together like a spider sitting at the seat of its web. A secret of the dark places, that, since that was a tale never to be told. It was only to be guessed at by those who saw him for who he truly was and those precious few who were in on the grand schemes that played out behind the 'skin' of the city.

Needless to say, The Master was none of the these, and so the answer his (Praetoris'-but-not) lips gave was a far more simple one.

"I'm a citizen of the city."

For once, it was the truth. Perfect and utter truth, though he hadn't applied for citizenry under the name he was born under or the one he was pretending to. But when you got right down to it, it had still been him in the registry office that day and that was enough for his purposes.