Luxord's Game

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It's time to play the game

Time to play the game! Hahaha...

The hooded man spent his first few moments on board sizing up just which of them was the greater of two great vessels. While both bore the unmistakable limits of the world that had sired them, both had merits.

Which of them, he pondered, would be the more suitable chariot for the work of Organization XIII in this world?

Or rather, the man wondered, silver earrings jangling at his sides, which one did he like better? He smiled. Yes, the Superior had given them a great deal of leeway in how to pursue the last- the very, very, last gatherings of hearts for the plan, just so long as they were quick about it.

So he palmed a piece of one ship's mast, feeling the old wood, so shrouded by the night it was pitch dark, for signs of weakness.

The ship was aptly named, then, the Black Pearl. It apparently had a fair bit of history behind it in this strange land composed mostly of open seas. Older, most certainly, than the other ship that had come alongside it, the more modern Interceptor Yet this ship had a great deal of love put into it by its captain as well.

He could appreciate a man with respect for things that were timeless. So he welcomed the clatter that signified that someone had at last spotted him pacing around the deck; it meant Organization XIII's little pawn Sora, the two fools the King had sent to aid him, and most likely the captain of the Pearl would be coming. Soon, soon…

With practiced courteously too much a part of him to have not existed back when he was human, the hooded gambler of fate watched his guests plod into view, looking as though they'd partly exhausted themselves just by getting here. Impatient to face him, hm?

Well, why not? The gambler had modesty aplenty, and it would taste a lie to say he was a more powerful fighter than Number III, who had already been beaten by this child of destiny.

Looking at Sora now, he could not for the life of him guess to how that had occurred. Still such a novice in the ways of any world he might come across, never mind his own. His helpers likewise.

But the captain-

It's all about the game, and how you play it

All about control, and if you can take it

All about your debt, and if you can pay it

It's all about pain and who's gonna make it

-The captain was another story completely. A beard of gangly brown hair that framed his face as well as the gambler's own blonde-white, topped by a red sash that was often the custom of the pirates that were endemic to this world. This captain Sparrow knew how to play the Game of life and death… more than one, by the looks of him. Was that an old debt to pay clouding his eyes?

He also wasted no time in taking control of the situation. It was his ship, after all… For the moment. "We don't take kindly to stowaways, mate. You'd best be finding yeself another boat home, savy?"

"Ah", the gambler chuckled, inwardly merry at having found a near equal. "-but how many stowaways can pay for passage with this kind of swag, captain?"

Then there was the chest. 882 coins of cursed Aztec gold, each piece irretrievably tied to the spot where he, and those before him, had found it. He'd studied the curse beforehand- one had to in order to make an effective weapon out of it as he had hoped to- and so learned most of the details behind it.

For the moment, he was extremely grateful that Nobodies were immune to such vulgarities. The gambler didn't often think of himself as terribly narcisstic. Well… at least not so much as the late Number XI had been… but he liked his skin right where it was.

His little friend, on the other hand…

Not so little. That huge blade-wielding Heartless that he'd found wandering about at World's End did indeed cut an imposing figure beside his own, even if it was as wastefully brainless as all its ilk. Even his own Gambler Nobodies, only allowed as much in the way of awareness as the Superior granted them, were smarter than this red-gray behemoth.

"The greed of the cursed pirates that partook of this gold", the gambler murmured to himself in anticipation of the experiment to come. "And the darkness of this Heartless. I wonder. Are they worthy to serve Organization XIII?"

"And you want an answer now?" This from the captain, ironically the one member of that crew that might be lacking in experience dealing with Heartless.

I am the game, you don't wanna play me.

I am control, no way you can change me.

I am heavy debt, no way you can pay me.

I am the pain and I know you can't take me!

"Precisely!"

He needn't have worried. The four handled themselves impeccably as the gambler watched their every move from the back. While the Keyblade Master had not yet become the overpowering fury that had killed his colleague Xaldin, he remained a tactile fighter beyond his years thanks to two of them spent fighting waves of Heartless. Perhaps, he considered carefully, Roxas may not have disappeared completely just yet.

And yet all for naught. Enthusiastically chasing and wailing on the Heartless he had taken to nicknaming the Grim Reaper, the foursome had forgotten all about the real prize in the Game; forgotten to look after the rest of their crew aboard the Pearl as a good Captain should. Likely by now his Gamblers and Dusks would have mopped up the last of the crew's resistance below decks and taken control. He was ready to take the Pearl and set sail for the true game.

One more, almost trivial little detail remained. The experiment. For that, he would likely have to catch the captain off guard at least. But how-

Inspiration brought another satisfied grin onto the gambler's face. Of course. Poor Jack Sparrow, still playing by the Rules instead of shooting me like he should. He'd make a fine Nobody if he weren't so idealistic.

"Parley!"

Look over your shoulder, get ready to run

Like a good little bitch from a smoking gun

I am the game and I make the Rules

So move on out here and die like a fool

By the end of the day, the experiment was successful. The gambler's long-term venture, however, was not. Was it premature for him to celebrate over the creation of a Heartless that was rendered impervious to even the Key of Destiny? That could inflict the horrific curse of the Aztec gold on any foolish enough to cross it?

A mistake, he told himself after seeing his pet Heartless slain, this time for good, and only one heart to donate to the larger picture for his efforts. He'd overplayed his hand, forgotten that there was never such a thing as a surefire bet. The new and improved Grim Reaper had just one tiny little weakness, and, just like that, Sora and Captain Sparrow had exploited it.

And so, failing to see why not- he was not Number IV, after all, attached to his experiments- the gambler conveyed his respect for that kind of ingenuity with two simple words.

"Sora. Bravo!"

Try and figure out what my mood's gonna be?

Come on over sucker, why don't you ask me?

Don't you forget that the price you can pay

'Cause I am the Game and I want to play...

It's time to play the game...

"I'd rather we skip the formalities!"

That respect had not diminished by the time the game had come to its final round.

He was seeing clearer. The spiky-haired child he'd mocked before had grown since then. And while battle-loving barbarians like Number VII and the Superior himself might have a shot at beating the odds, he, Number X, the Gambler of Fate, knew he could never hope to triumph where the Whirlwind Lancer and Freeshooter had failed in the area of pure power.

So he played a different kind of game, one he felt reasonably sure their ex-pawn remained a novice at. So it was that he had conceived his victory or death in the fashion he had always wanted.

Play the game

You're gonna be the same

You're gonna change your name

You're gonna die in flames

The game was All. He looked across the slanted roof at Sora, still unable to stop himself from seeing Roxas imprisoned behind those blue eyes… and knew that whether he lived or died, whether this boy trying to kill him was Roxas or Sora… all of it was being determined by the game of chance, cards, dice, and the spin of the wheel. Games that were games of games.

Ahahaha...

And he'd never had such fun.

As a result, he couldn't find much complaint in him over the final result. At first it had seemed promising, the size of the cards involved in his final stakes throwing the lad. As well as he had played, he was still accustomed to true warfare… not a battle where the Game was everything and size meant nothing so much as the result of the dice, wheel, cards, what-have-you.

Then, so quickly he seemed to be on a kind of autopilot, the boy turned the tables. Foregoing the Keyblade that had seen him through every battle before this one, his other hand shot out-

Four cards. Four zeroes. A perfect flush...!

Well, blast it, his final thoughts echoed before all the card tricks buffeted his body, turned back on their creator by the arbitrary nature of chance. I'd bet that captain really did teach him how to bluff after all.

He would bet, except he had nothing further left to bet with. No 'feelings', no power. Not even his life, not anymore. As all games must, the game of his life had concluded. He had finally lost.

And Roxas, Sora, this ex-pawn, this amateur, this lad who had never been to a casino in his life, had played the game quite well…

It's time to play the game...

Time to play the game!

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End

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M: Not so bad for a first attempt at a songfic eh? Truth be told, I'm not actually a heavy metal fan, but rather I picked up this song from an excellent Megatron (Beast Wars) tribute on Youtube. The song (called 'The Game') which I felt was pretty good for HM, suits that character extremely well, and I got around to thinking it could be applied to Luxord too. I may try splicing songs into my tales more often depending on the results.