Just thought you guys might want to be here to witness my durpface. :D

Cosplayer: Me

Photographer: Michael Dosik

Vexen Photoshoot from Katsucon 2013

Model: Me

Photographer: https://www.facebook.com/michaeldosik

Vexen photoshoot from Katsucon 2013.

Model: Me

Photographer: https://www.facebook.com/michaeldosik

Bolin did not like this one bit.

For one, his personal bubble had just been ENTIRELY VIOLATED.  He didn’t know if it was polite treatment to be so close to someone that you could literally smell the crisp, clingy scent of cleaning fluid lingering on their pristine white lab coat, or look directly into their poison green eyes, but that’s how close this guy seemed to think it was appropriate.  A few more inches and they would have to start considering what to name their children.

Bolin backed off with a startled yelp.  ”H-hello.” He greeted, a stutter of trepidation lingering like the ugly twitch of nervousness which he knew revealed exactly how unsure he was.  He hoped this guy would just back off.

Nope, no luck, he followed after like an annoying gnat, with a smile creepier than Amon, and that was saying something.  ”Greetings, child.” He replied smoothly, circling him, those acid green eyes studying him with a clinical precision. “I cannot help but notice that you are quite adapt at controlling the earth element, are you not?” He continued.

Bolin nodded slowly.  How did this guy even find him?  

"That being the case, I have a proposition to make." The academic gestured smoothly with his slender fingertips.  "I am quite interested in-" He paused, seeming to think for a moment, his eyes darting to the left before locking back on target. "helping earth-twisters." 

"Benders." Bolin corrected, on instinct.

"Whatever.  Anyway, the young children who cannot handle their powers are afflicted by so many common diseases simply because there is so little by way of studies of them!" The scientist (Vexen, if he remembered correctly from their previous, extremely awkward, encounter) elaborated broadly, completely with wide gestures and eager, hungry eyes.  That grin was still rather unnerving.

But then again, if this was children that they were talking about, and better yet, children that needed his help.  ”You mean that we’re helping kids, right?” Bolin sighed, his uncertainity growing by the second.

"Yes!  Of course!  If you agree to be my test subject, we’ll save hundreds-, no, THOUSANDS, of lives!" That grin was getting all the broader as he continued. 

"Will it hurt at all?" Bolin murmured, not quite wanting to admit to his fear in the face of helping out those more in need than himself.

"Of course not, child!  You will be in the upmost comfort.  I am a scientist, after all: an expert." He seemed to be doing his best to clench back a cackle of laughter.  He reached forward to grab Bolin’s wrist, leaving the young Earth Bender in a tissy of panic, his mind asking the only remaining question of ‘Oh good Lord, why did he agree to this?’ 

"Vexen." A deep voice rumbled from behind them both.  Vexen gasped and withdrew, while Bolin turned on heel to find the source.  A goliath man was watching them from behind, arms crossed and a glower of extreme disapproval more plain on his face than in the soft deep tone of his voice.  His entire stance seemed to scream that this was a reprimand for the scientist.  

"Lexaeus," the academic began, in placating tones.  "I was just going to do a few blood tests, and some hair follicle samples and…well…nothing too over the top, I promise you!" He replied nervously, but it seemed to have a similar effect as one trying to speak to a stone wall: dead silence.  The warrior shook his head slowly, stepping forward and taking Bolin gently, but firmly by the arm to lead him away.

"We should get you out of here." He commented, prompting a shriek from Vexen.

"You bring back my test subject RIGHT NOW!" Vexen demanded, yet again, to no avail.  The two earth-elementals were already heading out, one of them supremely confused, the other rather thankful for his timing.

"I’ll get you next time, Bolin!  YOUR REPLICATION IS IMMINENT!" 

((XemVex doodle for 4/1.  This was more just an exercise for me to see how fast I could pump one of these little doodles out. XD Xemnas and Vexen are far too much fun, but it seems as though the Superior is a bit more intimidating here.))

With an easy flick of his wrist, Vexen adjusted the goggles strapped tightly to his face as he swirled the fluid about the beaker.  Sauces?  What were these people going to ask about next?  His preference in meals as well?

"Anything which is artificially created." He replied in clipped tones. "There is no reason as to why I should not prefer something which has been improved upon by the wondrous hands of science."

((Just a friendly reminder that I’m still accepting inquiries. Feel free to send asks!  I revamped the layout and had some fun doing so.

Now here, have some feels. We all love an emo-Vexen. ))

I must admit, I look rather smashing in a lab coat…and a pink ascot…and a purple vest.

…And I wonder why people think I’m gay. O_O

((You can find the original on my Dev: http://socialgrake.deviantart.com/#/d4z0pkq))

Work in progress!  Happy birthday, Number X!

Vexen had to admit, the inside of his ‘captive members’ cell needed a bit of remodeling and a fair bit of tidying.  Typically, he used it to discipline foolish neophytes (namely, Demyx) who snuck into his labs to ‘look at the cool stuff’.  Regardless, the rust on the metal cell bars and the dust bunnies collecting on the corners of the steely grey floor were telltale signs of, dare he admit it, unsanitary conditions.  Vexen shivered in the dark room, and huffed in delayed frustration, his breath rising in a puff and dissolving into oblivion in the already chilled atmosphere.  He was trapped in a dirty holding cell in his own labs and he could do nothing to change this fact.  The chilly academic frowned deeply, feeling the deep numbness in place of the heart he lacked telling him that he would be feeling something bad right about now.  Something rather terrible, actually.

He would be feeling lonely, guilty, upset, any variety of soul-sucking emotions which full humans tended to try to avoid at all costs.  It was clear though, right now he owed Luxord an apology, and a very lengthy one at that.

It all started earlier that day, which was the tenth of April.  The day was ‘special’ as proclaimed by the both nobodies.  Vexen had to admit, there was a certain amount of relief, being able to speak with and relate to a clever wit like the gambler’s.  Since both of their numbers aligned on this seemingly fateful day, they had agreed to dinner plans…which translated roughly to drinking plans, but that was a story for a later date.  

When they had first begun to relate to one another, it was decided that they would try to develop an entirely other being with their powers combined: his science and and the Brit’s genes.  How they had agreed on the experiment are details lost to a rather drunken game of poker, which was filled with rum (for the gambler), fruity girly drinks (which he swore he would never be able to live down if Marluxia ever found out) and half forgotten stories (who knew the Brit could relate so many bawdy drinking songs?)  All that Vexen could knew for sure was that he was keen on the idea of making a child, a test-tube baby if you will, and he would not be deterred.  

That day though, the tenth of April which was agreed was ‘special’ had the academic perplexed.  How did he even define ‘special’, in this case?  Why were the two of them even ‘special’, as he would term it?  With a sharp intake of frozen air, Vexen realized that if he were to go on, to create life, than he would be a father, along with Luxord in this case.  

In his perplexed confusion he donned his finest garments, (not a lab coat, which even was surprised to admit), distraction etched in the blond’s features.  He paused, looping pearl-esque button into place, completely ignoring the mechanical pop and hiss of a malfunctioning machine in the background of his labs as he thought of the implications of this inward admission of truth.  He would be a father again, just like when he was raising little Ienzo…

There was something refreshing about this statement, something that told him that he would have been happy about this situation, pleased with the future outcome of this would-be experiment.  It only took that fateful moment of distraction to turn a catch a rather familiar grin from the corner of his lab.  His eyes narrowed as he tried to clarify his vision in yet another bout of confusion.

“Luxord…?”  His voice echoed jarringly off of the frozen walls of the lab, cutting through the whirring of the machines around him.  Vexen snapped back in alarm; it couldn’t be him, this hidden and shadowed creature was only partially formed.  

In an ‘oh shit’ sort of moment where Vexen was fairly sure his stomach would have dropped through the glimmering steel of the floor if he had the emotions to feel such a way, he realized that all of his experiments had stopped their development around him.  A mere moment later, he realized that he was no longer moving either.  Indeed, time had frozen him in place.

After that, he had been dragged over to his own holding cell and that brought him rather dutifully to his current disposition: sitting incarcerated, dirty (a gag-worthy truth, indeed), and rather trapped by his own escaped shadow creation.  Undoubtedly, Luxord would be feeling rather slighted right now if he could; it would seem as though the chilly academic was standing him up, when the truth was a rather frustratingly embarrassing situation instead.  He could be sitting over in Luxord’s quarters right now, discussing how charmingly stupid some of the newer members were (namely, Demyx), drinking more girly fruity drinks (if any asks, he had gin and tonic.  That’s nice and manly, right?) and generally not being assaulted by little genetic demons.    

And the worst of all was this emptiness within which threatened to consume him in the cold darkness which surrounded him.  Vexen supposed that if he were Even right now…he would be feeling very alone.  But then again, he couldn’t be sure; he wasn’t Even after all.