Disclaimer: All rights belong to Square Enix and Disney.
Demyx hummed Secret Agent Man to himself as he tip-toed along the empty hallway toward the Grey Area, a trio of colorful water balloons clutched behind his back. Today was day five of the week long prank war he and Xigbar had declared against each other. So far all of his attempts to prank the older member back had resulted in epic fails and in one case, with him being glued to the ceiling for an hour and a half by a Gravity spell. Yeeaah, not exactly an experience he'd like to repeat any time soon. He should've known drinking all that lemonade beforehand had been a bad idea.
But today Demyx was keeping his fingers crossed that his crappy luck would change. He had the element of surprise this time, after all. And water balloons that he'd filled with spray cheese. (He'd figured water was way too predictable, considering his element.) So far so good.
He paused at the Grey Area's entrance, leaning forward and cautiously poking his head out to peer around the doorframe.
Yes. His luck had to be improving because X-Face was nowhere in sight. There were only three occupants in the room at the moment. His target, Xigbar, was sprawled along the length of a sofa, apparently taking a nap. (Yeah right; that was a little too convenient. Probably faking. The line of drool was pretty convincing though, he had to admit.) Zexion sat nearby on another sofa with his nose buried in that ridiculously massive book like usual. (Seriously, Demyx was willing to bet that book probably weighted more than himself and the Schemer combined.) And lastly, Luxord was busy chatting with the Castle's resident Moogle over in the corner of the room.
The Nocturne had a clear shot from his vantage point outside the doorway…but he wasn't exactly confident that his throw would carry the balloons all the way to his target. He'd have to get closer. Time for those cool sneaky spy moves Demyx had mastered from some old black and white movies he'd watched as a kid.
Keeping a careful grip on the balloons, he ducked into a half-crouch and shuffled carefully into the room, throwing a glance around. Good. No one had noticed him yet. As he neared the first couch, he attempted one of those super awesome spy rolls.
It didn't work as he'd planned.
Instead he almost faceplanted, saving himself at the last possible second by flinging his free hand in front of him, and ended up careening into the back of the sofa head first. He bit back a yelp of pain then simply laid there for a moment. After several tense seconds, he risked a peek over the top of the sofa.
Phew, he inwardly sighed with relief. Miraculously, nobody had so much as glanced over in his direction. He patted his hair gel soaked mullet, thanking it for softening the sound of impact. Okay. Time to commence the prank before his incredible luck ran out.
Demyx carefully moved to a kneeling position, slowly raised a cheese-filled balloon into the air, took aim at his sleeping quarry, and hurled it with all his might. The colorful projectile flew in a perfect arc toward Xigbar's face.
Or it would've been a perfect arc. If Xigbar hadn't suddenly cracked his eye open, shot him a roguish grin, and portalled out with a smug, "Heh, nice try, kiddo."
"Aww man!" Demyx couldn't hold back a disappointed pout. Which quickly morphed into exaggerated horror as he watched the balloon soar through empty air. And nail Zexion full in the face with an audible splat just as the Schemer was glancing up at Demyx's sudden outburst. Processed cheese exploded over hair, book, and coat.
There was a beat of silence. Even Luxord and the Moogle had paused their conversation to peer across the room at the ominous splatting noise. Demyx just stared, frozen in his crouch behind the sofa, mouth hanging open in shocked disbelief. Zexion stared back impassively. Bits of gooey orange slid down his hair and dripped onto the marble floor. The sight would've been comical if it had been anyone else covered in spray cheese. Demyx swallowed nervously. He'd learned long ago that there were certain members you simply did not want to annoy.
Especially members who owned Giant Books of Doom that could trap people in their worst living nightmares.
Finally, just when the awful silence was really starting to freak Demyx out, the Schemer sighed and snapped the massive tome closed with a loud papery thump. He rose smoothly to his feet and fixed the other with an unimpressed steely gaze.
"Clearly, you don't listen very well," Zexion began, voice softly threatening as he flicked a section of cheese-drizzled hair from his face. He gestured listlessly with a slender hand as he continued, "This is the third time in one week that you 'accidentally' involve me in one of your childish pranks. And I've politely asked you to desist an equal number of times. I'm growing quite tired of repeating myself." He paused thoughtfully, the corner of his mouth curling into a small unpleasant smile. Demyx felt his stomach drop. "Well. Since warnings clearly aren't enough to dissuade you—"
"–W-wait," Demyx piped up as he backpedalled several paces toward the room's only exit. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! They really were accidents, I swear. I was aiming for Xiggy! Let's just pretend this one didn't happen, okay? …Aww come on, Zexy, I can –hey, no wait! That's really not necessary—"
But the lexicon had already reopened in Zexion's hands, its yellowed pages fluttering ominously. Demyx emitted a rather unmanly squeak before spinning around and high-tailing it out of the Grey Area as fast as his legs could carry him. He nearly bowled Saïx over several hallways later as he turned a corner, causing the blue-haired man to drop an armful of what appeared to be today's mission assignments.
"What in the name of—"
"Sorry!" Demyx shouted over his shoulder as he sprinted through the rain of fluttering paper. Then something occurred to him and he came to an abrupt halt, whirling back around and digging hastily through the fallen pile until he found his name.
His initial plan had been to hide out in the castle basement or something for a while…but now that he thought about it, that probably wasn't such a great idea considering Zexion's scary accurate ability to track down scents. He'd probably be discovered in about five minutes, if he was lucky. (Which apparently, he wasn't today. Seriously.) Maybe hanging out on a different world for a few hours would be safer. He straightened, hand clutching his mission assignment as he turned back to Saïx. "Actually, can I have my mission assignment early? Yeah? Great, thanks, bye!"
The Diviner blinked at the uncharacteristic behavior (Demyx accepting work willingly had certainly never happened before, nevermind early), a slight frown of confusion passing across his stern features. But before Saïx could respond or force him to clean up the mess he'd strewn all over the hall, Demyx had torn open a Corridor and flung himself through the opening.
Half a minute later, the Nocturne stepped out into the stifling heat of a secluded alleyway in the middle of Agrabah. With a weary sigh, he collapsed against the wall and slid to the ground, stretching his legs out in front of him. Sheesh, that was the most exercise he'd gotten in months. And now he was all sweaty, gross. He wiped the moisture off his forehead with the back of a gloved hand and sat there, catching his breath.
Phew, that had been a close one. His shoulders sagged with relief. He took the moment to glance down at his full mission brief mainly out of curiosity (pffft, not like he'd actually planned on doing it). Then froze as his eyes skimmed the top of the page. Oh no. No, no, no.
Reconnaissance Mission to Agrabah
(blah, blah, blah mission details)
Assigned Members: himself and –
"Hello, IX," greeted a voice from the shadows to his left, followed by the rustling of pages.