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Xion It's Detroit! A land of terrible darkness full of vampires and ghouls and noise and other awful stuff. The gathering is here, because Demyx and Xion are here. Why are they here?

Because the Denny's on the outskirts of Detroit that was reclaimed from the dark predations of vampires and ghouls months back became the Organization's base of operations in the area.

'But Why Is Demyx Here?' you may ask.
Xion fixed the ice cream machine here and fries a decent chicken finger, so he bothers her to do it as often as possible.

The gathering takes place at 11:50 PM, with an importance placed on being on time: On the tables, laid out, are a set of black cloth ponchos and sets of gloves, as well as fourteen (not 10 or 12, 14) pairs of swirly-eye glasses with a flaky sort of film coatig the lenses.

Demyx plays his weird sitar in the corner, picking at the chords for Freebird, while Xion fusses about the tables with clothes and glasses. "So, here's the thing. We're gonna be doing a dive into the darkness, so you need the ponchos so your Heart or uh... 'otherwise', doesn't fill up with darkness? And the glasses are so you can see. Zexion made them. He's really smart, so, they probably do something good!"

"Any questions? I'll be your anchor point tonight, so, I think Roxas will be with you, and I'll just be holding the door open. Okay?"

The operation, posted by Organization 13, laid out the remaining objectives: It's exploratory Deeper-Darkness diving! A short jaunt, see what you can see, bring back anything interesting, don't get got by Neo Darksides or whatever else lives there.
Roxas Roxas is here. Sort of. He's actually ruthlessly abusing the buffet, because he is a teenager and both can and needs to consume an infinite amount of food without actually ceasing to be hungry. He's actually meandering back to the table with a plate full of garbage / acceptable for 11:59 p.m. Denny's customers, a forkfull of which he is shamelessly shoveling into his mouth as he sidles up next to the booth.

This Denny's, despite being picked up as a headquarters by Organization XIII, is still operating as a completely normal Denny's. Nobody takes special notice of any of the weird bullshit going on. A drunk man is passed out in a plate of syrup on the far side of the restaurant.

"Hey." Roxas says reflexively, when Demyx says that he'll be going with.

He's not actually paying attention. Terrible, lukewarm eggs drowned in salt are holding his attention.
Vergil     Vergil is here.

    It's not entirely clear why. His severe features, perfectly styled hair and katana mark him as incredibly out of place in this little slice of Americana. More than likely it has something to do with his pursuit of greater and greater power. Any reasons he has, he's not saying. He doesn't even comment on seeing Xion again, either not caring, or not remembering her.

    "Keep your gowns," he says crisply, gesturing at the black cloaks laid out on the table. "I do not need such protection. My power is greater than any darkness." Befitting words for one whose style is 'Dark Slayer.' He does, however, take a pair of the glasses and slip them into his jacket pocket. Just in case.

    He regards Roxas' massive plate of food with slight annoyance, lips curling downwards. "Are we waiting for you to finish that?" he asks, in a tone that implies he won't be well pleased if the answer is 'yes.'
Roxas "Nah. Gonna eat on the way. There's usually a little bit of nothing before there's something out there. Usually." Roxas answers Vergil immediately.
Sumiko Mikoto is sitting at a table across from Roxas with a plate full of a greasy burger, and fries that are now greasy because of their proximity to the burger.  Licking her fingers, clean of grease, she grabs another fry and dips it all the way into a pool of ketchup she has to dip things in to hide the flavor.  She likes the sugar content of the ketchup only slightly less than the grease.  

After a moment she looks up at Xion, swallowing her mouthful of grease and nods once, "Got it, we go into a dark room in cult clothes, and funny glasses, poke around and have to find a way out of the room in a time limit right?"

Does Mikoto think this is an escape the room game?

After finally taking the last bite of her burger, which now she eats extra slowly because it probably will annoy Vergil, and takes her time loudly slurping her milkshake (no it doesn't have grease in it), she wipes her fingers on a napkin and picks up a gown.  Slowly putting it over and slipping the gloves on.  She then stops, takes everything off because she seemed to have forgotten something.

With a burst of ~Magical Girl Sparkles~, this is followed by obnoxious greens, blues, and gold, before Mikoto finishes her transformation into a magical girl.  THEN puts on the coat, gloves, and glasses.  The glasses, of course, go over her mask.  

She picks up her milkshake and continues to drink it.  "So man, I didn't know real American food was so greasy.  Are your cows just bread with grease?"
Roxas Roxas blinks slowly towards Mikoto, tilting his head to the side. He looks around a moment, then back towards Mikoto.

"We're in a Denny's." He says, as if that explains absolutely everything.
Xion Denny's is renowned for its ability to hold host to drunks, tweakers, all nighters of church youth groups (a real thing), and shady covenants trying to get all up in the abyss's bootyhole. So, really, this is business as usual.

If people watch the counter instead of Xion's (rather brief) instructions, they'll see Mog in his black coat minding the register and messing with the heating pads for the poorly maintained food near the buffet. The mystery of his omnipresence goes unsolved another day.

"Oh! You're the sword guy! Nice, I bet you'll do great." Xion greets Vergil, and Mikoto's fast pickup gets an appreciative nod. "Yep! Well, the time limit is more 'don't get got', but either find something or decide there's nothing worth bringing back, and go back. So the glasses will only last a limited amount of time, too, but you should be able to get back if I'm holding the door open..."

Xion's phone beeps, and she checks the alarm. "Twelve sharp! Alright!"

In the middle of Dennys, Xion claps her hands together and then tugs them open like squeezing open a shut sliding door, peeling open a rift into a morass of blacks, purples, and bruise red. "I'm mostly aiming down, so I don't know where this will drop you. Just come back if you get too spun around! No big deal. Just don't get lost, or lose the..."

Xion considers. "Well, I guess 'lose the light', but just don't, uh, darkness darkness darkness?"

Helpful.

Stepping through the portal is like cannonballing into the deepest end of the pool, or leaping off a cliff into the lake, the immediate immersion into primordial darkness going past cheeks and extremities like cold, liquid ballistic jelly: it's got a character of thick flowing syrup, and streamers of darkness easily ruffles hair or sloshes around in ears.

Down and down and down, until the trio of Mikoto, Vergil, and Roxas alight on a 'sand-bar' of sorts.

Under their feet, or between their fingers, the 'sand' is an extra fine, powdery black speckled with coal grey - which stands out like stars to the glasses-assisted eye. In fact, down at the dark apogee they land on, the glasses act like reverse sunglasses, turning the ream of 'strictly dark colors' into a vibrant landscape of hues - the varietals of black, dark grey/red/blue/green, and the burnt varieties of orange and sienna - that stretch impossibly in every direction but 'back'.

And 'back' certainly is a direction, though it seems up if you're not squinting. Relatively speaking, the portal hangs 'high above' like a tiny sun or bright-burning star 'pon the night sky, the only visible source of light in the sea of unbright. The 'way back' casts shadows upon the blacks of the surrounds, and stretching out before the group is a tumbling and shifting landscape of strange geometries and stranger creatures with beady yellow eyes of all shapes and sizes, and 'down' or 'deeper', the sound of the ocean throbbing and hushing through the air as if through a seashell.
Vergil     "My name is Vergil. Use it when speaking to me," the half-demon corrects Xion harshly. Thankfully, Roxas is the kind of teen who carries wrapped burgers in his pocket to eat later, so Vergil is spared that particular ire. He does however, note Mikoto eating more slowly and obviously and so his glower is transferred to her.

    But the time has come. Xion opens a portal inside the Denny's, and Vergil draws his katana in response. Not to attack anyone, but nor in anticipation of a fight lying on the other side. Rather, he starts tracing the edges of the portal with the sharp side, brow furrowed in concentration. "Hmph. Now I see." With whatever understanding he might have gleaned from that, he sheathed the sword and steps through.

    He drifts through the dark, jacket cutting a blue trail behind him before he lands atop the 'sandbar.' True to his word, he seems unaffected by the crushing darkness. Or if it getting to him, he does an incredible job of not showing it. "Don't get in my way," he says to Roxas and Mikoto, before stalking 'forward.' The only really traceable quality is the sound of the sea. So he heads for whatever direction makes that become louder.
Roxas "Oh." Roxas looks a little disappointed when the 'target zone' becomes down. He sets his plate aside on the table Demyx is sitting at, snatching up a slightly-overcooked piece of sausage as Xion opens the way. He pauses a moment before going into it, staring at the gaping hole into the corridors with a slightly empty expression on his face. This feels somehow familiar, he decides.

He turns his head slightly to look at Xion.

"I'd have to lose me." He observes.

Realizing a moment later that this had much more meaning for them than the others gathered with them, he hastily adds, "That was a joke. I'll be okay."

Taking one of the googly-eyed glasses, Roxas puts them on and steps through the portal. The entire experience is a little different, but not /dramatically/ so, with one exception. The destination point is more than passingly strange. The crunch of sand beneath his boots elicits a surprised look right out of the gate.

The sound of the ocean fills his ears. Roxas sways on the spot, not quite threatening to fall down but certainly looking a little unbalanced by the whole experience.

It all makes him deeply uneasy.

"Are you... not afraid of anything, uh, Vergil?" He wonders towards Vergil, prompted by some unseen trigger -- maybe deeper darkness itself -- to ask such a question.

Absolutely certain that Vergil is substantially stronger than he is, he falls in on his left flank and lets the older man take point.

Roxas jerks his head towards Mikoto and asks, "And what let you change? It's kinda similar to something else I saw, but... different."
Sumiko Mikoto looks towards Roxas and makes a shrugging motion.  "Not all that familiar with American food, but I guess you'd know more than I do," She says, simply deciding to go with the flow there.  She does not much acknowledge Vergil's glare, simply continuing on her way of doing things as if he weren't there and glaring at her.  

Mikoto likes playing dangerous games.  Nobody ever said Mikoto was smart.

With her new cult outfit on, she watches the portal open.  "Cool effects," She says, and then steps through.  Of course, it almost steals her breath out of her mouth.  It was like plunging into the water, deeper and deeper, the feeling of drowning was there.  It was seemingly a bit more tightly around her throat than the others.  Causing her to gag and cough until they finally hit 'bottom'.  

Sitting down in front of the ocean for a moment there just was this ominous feeling in the back of her mind.  Something screaming it didn't want to be here.  With a breath, she stands up, sword coming out from behind her and being hefted on her shoulder as Vergil plods on ahead.  

"Ok get lost then.  No skin off my nose," She says a bit testily.  To Roxas, she shrugs, "I'm a Magical girl.  I made a stupid wish, I got a stupid prize."
Roxas "Oh, uh... well, Denny's is a restaurant known for its okay food and being open all the time." Roxas explains to Mikoto, with a shrug, "Basically, it's bad but convenient."
Sumiko "Oh. I mean, I've had worse things to eat in my time. Trust me, you don't get to be picky when you got nothing."
Vergil     "Fear is a sign of weakness," Vergil replies to Roxas tersely. "One with power has no cause to be afraid of anything."
Roxas "I prefer stuff like this. It doesn't cost much, and... I don't know, it's not like fine dining really 'fits' me." Roxas says to Mikoto, running a hand through his hair a little awkwardly, "That's how most people in the Organization are."

He considers Vergil's answer.

"I'm afraid to not exist." He says, as matter-of-factly as anybody else his age might confess to a fear of wasps, or heights.
Sumiko "Huh? I bet you'd look cute in a suit," Mikoto says, a bit teasingly, but mostly because it's easier to do THIS than to worry about the drowning feeling she's experiencing here. "Besides, don't knock it until you've tried it. The cost of the food isn't always the important thing either. Good food is good food...but it's also good to get outside of your comfort zone and try new things. I mean, as much as I am already disliking Mister Seriously Badass here, Fear isn't something you should get limited by."
Vergil     Vergil sniffs at Roxas' answer, not even looking over his shoulder at the Nobody as he replies. "Then become so powerful that your existence is absolute." Stated like it's the most obvious thing to do, like telling someone who is cold to put on a sweater. As for Mikoto, he only says, "I care not how much you dislike me, girl. Think what you will."
Xion A universe of colors defined solely in the darkest ends of the spectrum stretches out, but, as Vergil observes, beyond 'around' (sliding deeper into the complete chaos of solid colors of Darkness) and 'out' (back towards the miniature sun of Xion's held-open portal, there really is only 'forward' (towards the ocean).

And if he's REALLY paying attention, there's a reason for this: The sandbar isn't 'natural'. The concrete dust sticks like chalk to the hands, and it's distinctly nonmagical. It's HEINOUSLY nonmagical. It is the Least Magical dust Vergil has ever in his life seen. Many things are 'not magical', but this is...

Well, actually, nobody here has the Knoweldge check to figure out the exact composition, but all three can, if they REALLY care to figure it out, smell some sort of mineral, and a note of metal, in the sidewalk-smelling concrete dust.

It is a path that someone created.

This continues on, following the dusty path that gathers on gloves and boots, as the denizens there ignore them. Beady yellow eyes perk up at bootfalls, but then drop with disinterest as the trio walks the path.

Finally, after what seems like an hour, a dozen hours, a day, a week, an enternity of walking away from the sun and towards the beach, they arrive:

It's a lonely sandbar of shockingly 'light' grey sand that's lapped at by an aphotic blue ocean. The dusty path terminates upon the grey sand, a 'definite location' in the morass of chaotic 'nothing at all', and has multiple notable features!

Upon the beach, on a set of stilts, is a tiny wooden cabin at the head of a pier that juts out into the ocean. A figure in red robes casts a fishing line into the abyssal water, humming a familiar-sounding 'generic church-choral' tune as they do so.

The chatter of the group draws the attention of the figure, who turns his head towards the arrivals. Two yellow eyes - not beady and monocolored like the locals, but yellow all the same - glow like coals against a 'bright' brown complexion, though much of the figure's face is covered in the red-brown bandages he wears.

"Ah, travellers! Have you too come to become fishers of men? Or are you lost, children?"

His eyes linger on Vergil's Yamato sword, and his expression hardens incrementally. "Or are you here for some other purpose? You are welcome to all that I have, but as that is nothing, I doubt you will desire it. It is yours, all the same."
Roxas "I have a suit. Or... something close enough. Lilian said that a wardrobe that was all cultist robes as kind of lame, and she's usually right about..." Roxas looks up into the 'sky', "Uh, everything I guess. She seemed to think it looked good. I guess I could see if Xion and Axel want to check out something like that..."

He mumbles something about 'infinite money', then turns his attention to Vergil.

"He's ... pretty harsh, but I think he's fair."

"I don't know if I want to be all that powerful. Everything about power already seems so complicated to me. It's like... it's like a machine. And the better you make the machine, the more complicated it gets. Does that make sense?"

They reach their destination. Or rather, A destination. Roxas knows better than to identify anything as 'their destination' in this place. Detroit is way too mutable in this place. His walk to the corner drug store / convenience mart has changed too many times.

Last week the stop by the graveyard was replaced by a stop through an emergency room.

Roxas stares at the Guy And His Hut.

Sloooowly he reaches into his pocket and takes out his phone, snapping a shitty photo that will doubtless look like some lunatic conspiracy theorist's "totally legitimate" photograph of big foot.

"But..."

He cants his head to one side, "Why would I fish men? That sounds kinda weird and gross. Are you Sidhe? That sounds like Sidhe talk."
Sumiko The path goes on, the glowing eyes of the dark creatures staring at them, but not one goes for them.  To a degree, she is glad about that, because these creatures seemed to not be of the form, but of shadow.  Who knows if she would be able to effect these things with her blade?  The path goes on, seemingly endlessly...

Time seems to not have meaning, but fortunately for her, she does not get tired easily, nor does she need to eat.  Though she checks her soul crystal now and again to make sure time hasn't passed THAT much.  Also because she was worried that this dark world might have some sort of effect on it.  Fortunately, she was wrong...it was darkness, not negativity.  

"Not everything, but Lilian does have a solid hold on what she wants to do, and where she wants to go.  In my opinion, she travels her road at the expense of others in her way, or near her way.  I guess it's good to see she CAN be nice to people," She says, wistfully.  "Anyway, if you want to try these sort of places, I could take you and your friends sometime."

She continues to walk, as the topic of power comes up.  It was a while ago that she would do anything to not have the power that she does...but because of the Concord and friends there, she can use her power without fear of long term problems.  Now she doesn't really know what she wants on that.  

"People should have the power to do what they want to do, I feel.  Some people will need more, and some will need less.  You gotta do what you feel is right for you," A beat, "And what you can live with doing to others to get it.  Given the chance, I don't think I'd make the same choices and be what I am."

"Who knows..." She says, finally, her thoughts finally interrupted by DizNutters.  She cocks her head to the side to look at him for a moment and then speaks.  "Nah, fishing men requires a bigger pole, or a net wider than what we got here.  Too many holes, you see." She points at the two guys, and then at her head.  

"I'm Mikoto Shimizu, who might you be?" She says, with a proper bow.
Vergil     Onward and onward in this place with no coherent directions, Vergil trudges. The soles of his boots and the bottom of his coat gets covered in sand, bit by bit. The layer that builds up seems to catch his attention, feeling his demonic energies being diffused by it, and he tests something. Suddenly, he leaps into the air, performing a perfect somersault. The air below his feet fizzles, as he tries to conjure a platform in the air to leap again, and he instead drops back to the sandbar. "Hmph," he says, not sharing his findings with his companions at all. But from that point, he stops now and again to raise his feet and tap his boots with the sheathed Yamato, knocking loose the 'sand.'

    The beady eyes on the sides of the path keep grabbing his attention, and his hand hovers over Yamato's grip whenever one gets close. He seems to be /itching/ for a reason to have a go at them, but they always wander off. At least he has a chance to wax philosophical at Roxas. "Power is not complicated in the least. You only believe it is because others have told you that power comes with responsibility. Others with more of it than you, who wish to limit your growth so they might remain unchallenged." He sneers at the idea of such people, and runs a hand along his slicked hair. "When you are powerful, things are as complicated or uncomplicated as you decide they are."

    Soon, they arrive at the sea. The quiet beach, the small hutt, the fishing figure. Vergil sneers at the man. "I did not come here to mug you, old man. My journey is one of curiosity leading me in pursuit of power." He strides to the edge of the water, and takes a moment to soak his boots and clean them off. "What are you, old man? You have the same eyes as the creatures that live here, and nothing to protect yourself like these children. Are you a devil?" His thumb touches Yamato's hilt, just waiting for a reason to push the blade out of it.
Roxas "She's always been nice to me." Roxas says on the subject of Lilian. He is hilariously unaware of how bad she can really be. On the subject of fancy food, he says, "Sure, I'll talk to them about it. We're... kinda different, but it probably doesn't matter that much. Anybody involved in this sorta stuff has to be a little different or they don't survive."

"I'm...not the same person as you," he says to Vergil, "but I guess you're right that the thing itself doesn't need to be complicated. There's not that many things that I feel responsible for, but... the stuff that I /do/ feel responsible for is too important to me to disentangle myself from the way it's complicated."

"Maybe that's just my own weakness. If so, I think..."

"I don't really care."
Sumiko Mikoto shrugs, "Maybe she likes you, who can say," Mikoto says somewhat dismissively. She doesn't necissarily HATE Lilian per se, but she doesn't really LIKE her either. That might be the former street rat in her talking. It might be because that some people are born luckier than she, and she still resents them for it. It is likely this, but she won't tell. "Eh, I'm not exactly a normal person either. Don't worry about it, if anyone asks I'll just say you're a tourist."
Xion When called out for fairy-talk, the red-robed and bandaged figure chuckles, a distinctly masculine sort of rolling chortle. He's got belts on his head. It's a fair cop. When Roxas raises a phone, the man raises a book in response, with a similar hailing or picture-taking hold on the bottom, though the book's cover bears no marks - simple leather.

The inevitable 'press A to interact and get whole life story' passes, and the robed man at the pier moves away from his fishing pole. "I am no sidhe, nor am I a denizen of darkness, though I have made it my residence for the time being. I am a disciple, a seeker, and I aspire to be a finder. For now, I am a fisherman. Before..."

The robed man gestures towards his shack. "I was a carpenter."

"I have here a book, my child, and it speaks of many things. I have a mandate, like the apostles Simon and Peter, to be a fisher of peoples, to pull them from the dark waters and into the light."

Asked for his name, he bows low, practically dropping to one knee as he stoops. "You may, please, call me... Diz." He offers, pronouncing it closer to 'daze' than anything else. "For it is the first lesson I was taught here. A heart must be open to the voice of the Lord, for He has a plan, to prosper me and not harm me, plans to give hope and a future."

He rises, spreading his arms loosely out at his side, taking in the shoreline. His voice is measured, warm, but a bit empty, like a preacher before his morning coffee - without that fire or spark of burning conviction and definiteness that drives home a sermon. "I armor myself with the Lord... Though this helps." He produces a pouch from his robes, and opens the small bag to reveal -- more of that grey concrete sand. "I was set adrift, lost, after a great failure... But when I set my feet on solid ground, I found new purpose here."
Roxas "We like each other." Roxas corrects, though he doesn't seem to really pick up on the fundamental differences going on between Mikoto and Lilian. On the subject of tourism, he says, "I /can/ dress normally. We. We can dress normally. Although... Axel gets some /real/ funny looks depending on where we go."

"I think it's 'cuz his tattoos suggest he murdered two guys in prison or something."

He scratches his head in response to what Diz says, "Are you saying you hang around out here to keep people from getting lost in the Darkness? That's... sort of crazy, and I'm kind of an expert at wandering around the darkness without getting eaten."

"What year was it when you came out here? Time gets sort of..." He makes an elaborate gesture with his hands that doesn't actually mean anything.
Vergil     Vergil actually laughs alongside Mikoto. It's not a very pleasant sound. So dry it seems to sap the moisture even from the sea air. "Ah yes, I remember Lilian. Head the girl's words well, boy. She does not care for others the same way others might care for her. Ask the girl holding the gate open about my duel with Miss Rook, and how she conducted herself. Your friend was treated as dead weight."

    He doesn't really reply to Roxas' assertion that he can't untangle his responsibilities. "Then be tied down. And hope that these responsibilities do not lead you to oblivion. That is your concern, not mine." Having said his piece, he seems satisfied. Whether Roxas pays heed is irrelevant. Truly the attitude of an unfettered man.

    The local - Diz - offers replies. "Hmph. Not a devil, but a prophet." His thumb wraps about Yamato's scabbard once more, his tone one of disappointment. But, as for how he survived here? The sand. That is the answer. "Ah. So the path we followed..." This is a useful factoid. "Thank you, holy man. But, never let it be said that I owed a man anything. I shall help you find what you are fishing for."

    Standing there at the water's edge, Vergil raises Yamato over his head, gripping the handle and closing his eyes. His form begins to crackle and arc with blue electricity, his form shifting in a flash of light. No longer a stern man, but a scaled devil, the Yamato now bound to his arm within an organic sheath. His breaths become more guttural, before a yell erupts from his throat.

    The Yamato is quick-drawn and brought down upon the shore. If this man is a prophet, then Vergil shall be Moses, and part this sea before him.
Sumiko At what Roxas says, Mikoto can't help but burst out laughing.  It was just so evenly delivered that she just finds it to absurd to not respond to...of course it could be because she desperately needs a laugh right now, between sir 'I am quoting the bible and may have also insinuated that I am Jesus' father' Diz and the oppressive feeling of this place.

"Well, I am sure his tats are sweet, and I'd love to see them.  Ink is a pretty interesting way to show art off.  I know it's not for everyone, and if you do it outside of some areas you become unhirable, but eh.."

Of course, she gives Vergil a side-eye...she hates it when people are called dead weight.  She grips the blade, but relaxes it...no not now, not over some words...and not for a person she hardly knows.  Taking a breath, she calms herself and turns her gaze towards Diz.  

"You are kinda weird," She says, earnestly, "So you got dropped here...and you quote the Christian bible to keep you safe?  Eh, takes all types, I gues-"

And then Vergil transforms and splits the goddamn sea.  "Fuck!" she exclaims.  
Roxas "Vergil..."

"Nearly nobody I know cares about people the way others care about each other. Especially not that girl." Roxas smiles a little sadly, "I think... I'm a bit different, that way. It's hard to say, but it's getting harder to deny that I seem to experience things differently from them. But that's okay. I sort of... think of it as a part of my responsibility. I'm the one who... I dunno, the one who gets people the way people get each other."

"Which isn't to say that they don't get upset when somebody they think of as important mistreats them. It's just not the same as if it happened with you, or Mikoto."

"And even though not existing scares me a lot," he continues, "I think I'm okay with it to get to have that responsibility."

"Maybe that's dumb of me. Or... maybe I'd be happier, if I was more like you. You don't seem very happy to me. /That/," Roxas points into the water, "was really cool, though."

To Mikoto, he asides, "They're tears under his eyes. I don't know why, he's not a sad person. I guess I never bothered to ask. Maybe he /did/ murder two guys in prison... he's got really wild hair, too. I don't think most places would hire him, so it's good that he's good at the sorta stuff we do."
Xion "Do not worry, my child." Diz replies with the patience of...

Well, a saint. "The time spent here will be worth it, and the time unspent in the reckoning of days will be as it should be." A pause, and another warm, masculine chortle. "Also, I have forgotten how long I have been here. Therefore, do not lose heart! Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all."

Patting his temple with index and middle finger, his dark lips crack a broad smile. "So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."

Vergil's pronouncement gathers the lion's share of Diz's attention, but even as he looks at the white-haired swordsman, he smirks at Roxas. "Somewhere in 'Corinthians', if I remember correctly. The words within the book have stayed with me, even if my memory has not."

Mikoto's 'you're weird' gets a nod. "Compared to you and the local beings both, yes." He agrees with an uncommon joviality.

Vergil's Devil Trigger form causes Diz to recoil in reflex, shading his eyes from the light - of all things - rolling off of Vergil's powered up form. Yamato swings out, and like Moses, the aphotic sea parts, opening like a wound.

In the basin of the 'ocean', really a bowl-shaped deep depression like a lake, is all sorts of detritus - lost things, clearly, almost completely corroded by time and the water. Things that should be there: bits and bobs, driftwood and the like. And one thing that shouldn't.

A head, like a mask - like Diz's mask, in fact, right down to the wraps and red coloration, but with the 'bandages' spiralling and twisting off like bits of hair or tentacles. It's massive, even from just the head, and a huge treetrunks-plural arm of sinewey dark muscle tipped with clawed red fingers bursts from the bright, wet sand, and then another. It crawls out, dragging a full chest of a Darkside with it, but there's something quite different about it -- the heart, within its chest, is 'filled in' with the same aphotic blue as the water. Buried in the center is a bit of metal, capped with a dangling and tarnished keychain.

It rears back and roars out a sonorous 'uruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!' cry, unintelligble confused anger.

Diz, springing to action, dashes to the end of the pier and reaches into his small baggie of path-dust, casting forth a single line of dust into the air. As he does so, a firm path forms, carpeting the ground and even the sides of the water in that concrete-dust-and-metal chalk, which the Darkside Omega brushes off like the sand around it, but holds the water - and the path between it - firm and steady. "Right to the point! No need for a revelation, for you are one! I have lost all that I am, and all that I have, but I will be of what help I can. I'm sure that you must defeat this creature!"

Diz has joined the party! For now...