Vexen's notebook

((This is where I'll be writing my fanfic, if that's all right with everyone))
Entry one:
I, number four, Vexen, Write this book for the sake of cataloging.

Formally, I am no longer number four, but rather Vexen Briar. After everything became peaceful, Xemnas deemed it the right decision to disband Organization thirteen. The members of the disbanded organization each had to find a niche in society. But we will never truly fit in. Our memories of emotions allow us to craft a facade to hide behind whilst we craft our new lives; decieving the people around us, forging a friendship based on lies. For some of the organization members, this life can be quite comforting. For others, it might be wraught with distress and indecision.

I know not what happened to the people I once called co-workers, maybe even friend at one point in time. But their lives are not my concern; unless it became inevitable for me to meet them again.

Entry 2:

After the disbanding, my life became a quiet wonderland. I am not disappointed that I might never see the faces of my old comrades. I, Vexen, became the leading scientist in the lab located in Radiant Garden. It wasn't hard to be reaccepted, for they were rebuilding and needed a great mind. For once, people respected me and my vast knowledge. But staring at papers behind a desk for so long creates a form of longing; even me being a Nobody, I grew truly and utterly bored. There is no field work behind a desk.

But something peculiar happened today. I recieved a letter addressed to "Number Four". I don't know who could have sent me the letter, for it was blank save who it was for.
It read: "Number Four, I trust your life has become all that you had hoped it would become. Keep your eyes open. There have been... events progressing, which you should be careful about. Two, three, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, and thirteen all have been notified as well."

One can assume Superior sent this letter, for it lacked his number in the list of notified. But one cannot be too hasty with their conclusions.

Sitting at a lab desk, Vexen writes with a black inked pen in a rather old looking journal. Many pages have been torn out and discarded, and the cover beaten and battered. The platinum blonde leans back in his chair, looking up to the ceiling and resting his hands on the arms rests.

'It's been a few years since the organization split up...'

Vexen scoffed at the thought, letting out a snort of laughter. 'I can't believe I'm actually thinking of the Organization... I've far too much work to be distracted by these kinds of thoughts.'

He scoops up the pen, and turns his attention to the large stack of papers on his desk. A knot formed in his stomach and he adopts a slight frown. Too much paperwork for one person. It's the fast track to dying of exhaustion. He touches the pen to the paper, then lifts it. He repeats this same motion. His eyes shift from the paperwork to the letter atop his ragged journal, contemplating writing to the other Organization members; and with a decisive nod, retrieves an old piece of paper.

He speaks aloud as he writes: "To whom it may concern. I've been informed that someone or something may be targeting us. Be it directly or indirectly, I highly suggest we assemble to discuss this." He signs it with a simple number four, then folds it twice. He sets it aside with a sigh and props his elbow so he can rest his chin on an open palm. His brow furrows. Who would target the organization? There has been a peace for two years now... No heartless have appeared; Nobodies practically extinct, save the Numbers. The Keyblade Masters have mostly retired, but still protect the peace. 'So why now?'

Beams of light broke through the shades pulled low over the windows. The darkness and heat of the summer gave the room an air of stuffyness. Around the lab, scientists joked that Vexen's office can suffocate you if one stands in it for too long. Which is why, upon entering, Zexion pulled the shades and opened the windows wide, smirking. Vexen immediately squeezes his eyes shut to avoid the sunlight, giving a hiss to Zexion.

"Close those shades! For Heart's sake, I'm going blind, Zexion!" He says, waving a hand at his (more or less) son to no avail. Zexion runs a hand through his steel-blue hair. How Vexen can live in this room without fresh air is beyond him. Zexion has changed over the years; having grown into a proper young man. The younger Nobody adopted a more professional hairstyle some time ago, deciding to shorten it, so he can properly see with both eyes instead of one.

"I assume you have recieved The Letter," he said, cutting right to chase.

"I have." Vexen responds, looking up once his eyes adjusted to to the blinding new light. His green orbs swizzled around and located Zexion, who had moved to lean on a filing cabinet. "And I was just about to send letters to the others." Zexion's expression became slightly more serious, staring at the ground intently. Vexen looks over to him, showing what was the equivalent of a Nobody expressing a sort of worry.

"What is it?"

"Nothing... I was just thinking."

Vexen raises an eyebrow. When Zexion thinks, it's either to escape a situation or he is plotting out some grand scheme. With the given situation, Vexen chose the latter with a mental nod. "If it is about the Letter, I assure you nothing will happen so soon." The older scientist dusts his lab coat off as he stands and gives Zexion a smile. "One cannot put a plan, of assumed size, into action in an instant." He walks slowly past Zexion, patting his shoulder.

Zexion resumed his stoic expression. The nobody taps his fingers on an elbow idly, looking up to follow Vexen with his eyes. "So when is the suggested date of arrival? For the others."

"Soon."

Chemicals in the lab buried deep within the castle of Radiant Garden bubbled with enthusiasm. Vexen had made his way from his office to the lab after making the long walk down an obtrusively green hallway. Lit by rows of flourescent lights, the lab's clean table and counters shine.

'My word... we need to get this castle a new paint job...' The walls made most sick to their stomach, especially Vexen. Zexion claimed to not be affected by the vomit green paint, which most thought to be a clever guise; which it was. The older scientist, Vexen, has caught Zexion looking disgusted by the walls more than once, which would earn him a scowl that cuts souls in two. Which a careful hand, he lifts a beaker of a neon green liquid from a shelf hung over various different pieces of equipment.

"That substance reacts differently to every test, every time..." A voice calls from behind him. He was followed unknowingly by Zexion, who was standing in the doorway with a clipboard held under one arm and two soda's in ther other. Another thing about Zexion that he noticed over the years is that he only buys something for other people when he wants to talk about something. Vexen's eyebrow arches, feeling a talk coming on.

"It's about the letter..." He said, bringing up what Vexen had supposedly dismissed. The younger Nobody walks over and places the can of soda next to Vexen who, by now, had put the beaker of neon green liquid back on the shelf. "We should meet tomorrow..."

"Zexion," Vexen had cut him off midsentence, " we all have lives now... I can't just pull them away from everything just like that." The can hisses as Vexen cracks it open. "You of all people should know this."

"If it is something that involves us all, we should begin discussing this immediately." Zexion wore a look that became all too common, his I'm-not-backing-down look. "We should at least pay everyone a visit..." Zexion had already opened his can and drained it halfway.

Vexen gave a silent wave, thinking, letting the melody of the lab rise once again to dominate the room. It couldn't hurt to visit everyone... He was curious as to what everyone made of themselves, to say the least; especially Demyx. 'That boy is probably living on the beach...'

The look Zexion gave Vexen persisted for a few minutes. During that time, Vexen had taken two sips from the soda, grimacing inwardly at the taste. He never found soda to taste acceptable in the least. Beads of sweat began to settle on his brow, the color of the walls was taking its toll. To escape the sick feeling, Vexen stood and motioned for Zexion to follow. They escaped out of the lab though a back door, which led to an outdoor gazebo, painted white. It over-looked a small outcropping of forest land, the only place with plant life unchecked in the city; for scientific purposes of course. The fresh air did both of their stomachs good, relieving them of the sick pit deep inside.

"Who should we visit first?" Zexion spoke first, and leans on the railing of the gazebo. His green eyes wander out over the thriving plant life. Sometimes he thinks that being a plant would be better. No solving life's problems, no answering questions; No worries. He dismisses the pipe dream thought.

"Xigbar."

"Any particular reason?"

"None, other than the fact that Larxene is with him." Vexen looks to his left towards the younger Nobody. "Two birds with one stone."

Zexion looked a bit confused, which made Vexen give a smile. "How do you know that?"

"I'm not an idiot... I know where most of the members are."