Well, here we are again. Stuck in this same pointless loop, this cycle of post and read, I often wonder if the people on the internet are really honest when they say that they actually like my work. Of course, if they did not, they would either be trying an attempt at being nice (and let us all face it. No one is nice anymore.), or being a troll for themselves, which is again pointless as no one else would get the joke. I don't know, maybe I am being a little bit too self-judgmental. Anyway, here I am, listening to "Chaos: The final Battle 1-3" and typing away to make up for all of my lost files trying to think of a rant but failing. I will try to make at least one rant per story a normal thing from now on though. Sorry. Also, I will not be explaining every detail of what Jexsam looks like in this one chapter as it was already explained in another story. Just know that he does not have caramel colored skin, he does not share a type of hair with Xaldin to below his shoulders, and he certainly does not have dark brown eyes. Thank you.


Vexen was in the middle of stirring a new chemical in his lab when he heard the sound of someone ripping a huge, gaping hole through the fabric of reality itself and somehow not ending all of creation in one fell swoop. As you can imagine, this explanation of the common occurrence did not pass over well with a certain bed wetting music fanatic, so they now called it a dark corridor. "Ah, Jexsam," the scientist said without turning around, "how goes things?"

The awesomeness in question walked at an ambling pace to where Vexen was standing. Once there, he observed what Vexen was doing for a good twenty seconds, and then ran a hand through all of the equipment that the scientist was currently using, ruining whatever project he was working at.

"Hey!" Vexen turned to look at the vandal, unfelt rage plastered on his face. "What the H-bomb, man?"

With an evil grin on his face, Jexsam spoke, "Oh good, you're not doing anything." He pretended to examine his nails through his gloves. While still gazing at his hand he said, "Yeah, the Superior of the Stuffed Animals said he wanted to see you about something kind of, sort of, not really important."

"You ruined my experiment, you buffoon!" Vexen was steaming. "It was going to make me famous! Give riches beyond your wildest dreams right now!"

"Hmm, tempting but not likely. Come on Vexen, hurry it up. It's like you want Xemnas to turn you into a sculpture, or something related."

Vexen scowled, twisting his already fugly face. "What is it with you nothings and your obsession with disrupting my body's natural physical state?" He then sighed in annoyance. "Fine. What does our perfect leader want from me?"

Jexsam stood aside and gestured toward the still open corridor which as was currently letting out all of cool air in Vexen's lab. "Go see for yourself."

"You… you didn't ask, did you?"

"I don't get paid to ask questions. I get paid to do this." He held up a hand and snapped his fingers, the cue for something dramatic.

… … …

The scientist looked around, not seeing whatever was supposed to happen. To his left, the new replica was resting in her acceleration tank, as disturbed as she was clothed, which is to say not at all still. The pervert. To his right, hanging or leaning against the far wall was a vast array of technology that was doubtless stolen, as no one in the organization was ever paid. 'Hold on' Vexen thought. 'Could it be?' He looked up in fear and shock, certain of what he would see, only to be once again proved wrong as there was nothing in sight but the dark ceiling. "Um," he said looking back down to Jexsam, "what is it that I'm supposed to be afraid of?"

Jexsam rolled his eyes at the tardiness. "These things aren't instantaneous, you know."

… … …

Vexen was growing uncomfortable in the silence and was resorting to shifting his in cloak to make a little noise. "So..." Vexen began, realizing that he had not been out of his lab since the rabbit fiasco, "How's the weather outside?"

Jexsam gave Vexen the "you really just asked that" look and said, "The same as it always is, dumbanus."

"Ah, still dark and cloudy, is it? Xemnas really should call a mechanic about—"

"KYYAAAAAAAHH!"

THWAK!

"AAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAA!"

Jexsam clapped as Vexen was sent flying by Lexeaus, who crashed in through the wall behind Vexen aiming and landing a flying kick (which, by the way, could shatter even the tallest and mightiest oak tree) to the spine of the aforementioned scientist, launching him through the corridor faster than one of the Flash's dates.

"Nice one Lex." Jexsam's praise was wholehearted, which should tell you something. "Though, I think you may have overdone it."

Lexeaus looked down at Jexsam. "How do you figure that?"

Jexsam scratched the back of his head. "I don't know, maybe it had something to do with the fact that after you kicked him, he was set on fire and turned into a speeding, possibly explosive, comet."

BOOM!

"EEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKK!"

The explosion from upstairs confirmed Jexsam's thoughts.

Lexeaus was the one to scratch his head his time. "I don't understand. Comets are not made fire. There is no logic behind what just happened."

"Well sure there is. Comets are made of..?"

"Ice?"

"Very good Lexeaus. Now, there is just one question I have to ask you. Kyah?"

Lexeaus raised an eyebrow. "That? I used to be a martial artist back in my mundane days."

Jexsam stood back a little. "That is without a doubt, the most terrifying thing I have ever heard in my entire life. Here is a cookie for your troubles, sir." Jexsam pulled a cookie from some unknown orifice in his cloak and, handing it to Lexeaus, left him to his own devices before things got ugly. He then decided, against his better judgment, to follow Vexen through the portal.


Why Xemnas decided that it would be a good idea to take a bath while he was expecting company, no one would ever know. He stood, draped in a zebra print towel and wearing a shower cap, with his arms folded glaring down at a broken and battered Vexen. As it turned out, the seven year old girl Jexsam had assumed let out the shriek of terror earlier had been Xemnas. It should have been expected that his natural response to a burning Vexen turned comet would be to scream at the top of his lungs and beat the scientists already mangled carcass with a loofa. Why no one did expect it was beyond even the smartest person in the castle, Squirrel Steve. "Well, Vexen," Xemnas began in a superior tone, "What do you have to say for yourself?"

The corps let out a strange, gurgling response. "Aahaabeeeedurgaah?"

Jexsam, having come in and just miss the brutality, looked down and said, "Uh, was that a question? I think it was a question."

"Hmm." Xemnas put a finger to his chin in thought. "He's even more useless like this than he usually is." More thought on the part of Xemnas filled a few more seconds. "Ah, I have it." He pointed at Jexsam. "You, working slave! Hand over a potion."

Jexsam slowly lifted his head and eyes to look at Xemnas. "Oh, I know I was not just called a slave." He once more reached into his cloak and pulled out his trusty intense agony repellant- erm, I mean potion bottle. Tossing it to Xemnas, he watched as said heart lover took out the cork and guzzled down the contents of the bottle.

"Ah," he breathed, "that is much better. The bitter taste helps me with stress, you see," he said looking at Jexsam.

"Of course," Jexsam agreed, "one has no use for stress when they are in charge of an organization." He looked to Vexen again, only to find that he was not there. "Xemnas, it appears that Vexen has become a puddle. Should I get someone to mop him up?"

Before Xemnas could answer, a voice interrupted his would-be speech. "Xemnas, have you seen my- oh my." It was Vexen, staring down at the puddle. He was very much alive and was currently closing the corridor he used to get into Xemnas' office. "It appears that the too-beautiful-for-this-world clone V-117 has expired under unnatural circumstances. No matter, I have 116 more just like him in my closet.

Both of the other two men in the room started pointing fingers in different directions and babbling like a couple of fools. Vexen raised both arms above his head and said, "Plot shielding bitches!"

"Okay, you know that I am going to do?" the Superior began, "I am not in any way about to freak out. I am going to give you my orders, dry off and return to my paperwork. In the buff." He looked to Vexen. It has recently come to my attention that our resident piss-pants, three-headed dog fearing, mullet sporting, 'musician' is a complete and total wuss in every definition of the word. That is why I am calling on you Vexen, because you may be the only one that can help him. You need to recreate him." Xemnas inhaled and exhaled twice. "Your mission, Vexen, should you choose to accept it –and let us all face it, it isn't like you even have a choice- is to take Demyx back to the basement and use all of your know-how science stuffs to make him tough. Now go Vexen, make daddy proud!"

Vexen gave a salute. "Yes sir Mr. Superior sir, I wi- wait, what was that last thing you said?"

"GO!"

That last shout was so forceful that it opened a new portal behind the scientist and, simultaneously, threw the man into it.

Jexsam let out a whistle. "Now, that is what I am talking about. Of course, there is the problem of Demyx. I highly doubt that he will just sit still and allow Vexen to poke and prod him with various instruments."

Xemnas turned to Jexsam. "You doubt Vexen's abilities?"

"You trust his abilities? That madman, while admittedly having a very high intellect in his possession, is also the weakest of the Organization, even falling below Demyx himself."

Xemnas considered this for a brief moment. "You make a valid point. Accompany him just in case the musician has discovered the meaning of the word gumption."

Jexsam began to back away to his own black hole while performing an over exaggerated bowing motion. "As you wish, my liege."

When Jexsam was gone, Xemnas took on a regal pose and said, "My liege? I think I like that."


"So, what would be so wrong about just waltzing over there and grabbing him?"

Jexsam and Vexen had finally found Demyx in the gray area. He was sitting on the stool near the kitchen eating a piece of watermelon and after every bite, strumming a chord on his sitar and saying, in an annoying watermelon seed filled voice, "Gamechap, where have you run off to?"

Vexen shot a sorrowful glance at Jexsam and said, "I flat iron my hair." Once said, he hung his head and let out one low sob.

"Um," Jexsam began, "I'm afraid that I do not understand what you mean."

Vexen's head shot up like a rocket. "Do you really want to see what I look like with an afro?"

Jexsam took a short step backward.

"That is what I thought."

Jexsam sighed and walked out from their hiding place behind the 96" plasma screen TV and walked off toward Demyx, hearing something like, "abort, abort!" coming from behind him.

Once Demyx seemingly heard his approach, he looked up and stared at the oncoming Nobody with a mouthful of seeds.

"Yo, what goes on Demdodolidoop?" Stare. "Uh, yeah. So Xemnas says that you have to come back down with us to Vexen's lab. No big deal, really. Just your standard issue poking and injecting." More staring. Jexsam began to make his way to Demyx's position. "So, if you would, just stand up and OW!"

The little demon had begun a watermelon seed rapid fire and was shooting Jexsam's shins. That is, he was until Jexsam, in some unseen movement, had crossed the rest of the distance and clamped his hand over Demyx's mouth, grabbed his arm, and pulled in an effort to drag him off of the stool. Only probem with this plan was that Demyx had suddenly recieved backup. About ten of the Dancers that had been tending to the kitchen unseen, grabbed onto the other arm. It was a tug of war that lasted all of two seconds. Neither side was willing to give an edge to the other. It was neck and neck until -

PRACKLE!

Demyx stared in shock at his now stump of a shoulder, as the rest of his bloody limb was in Jexsam's hand. Jexsam himself was expressionless. The water wielder then simply fell on the ground, unconscious, all of his seeds spilling from his mouth. Upon seeing their leader fallen, the Dancers dissipated to wait for more instructions.

Footsteps sounded behind Jexsam. Vexen summoned a small group of Dusks and directed them in carrying the unconscious, one armed man. "Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to give me that arm?" Vexen was holding his hand out. It should have been expected that he would have no difficulty holding a severed limb.

After Vexen and his helpers were gone, Jexsam was left to clean up the ugly red mess. As he reached into the closet in the kitchen his hand froze. He turned to the windows, seeing nothing but the same dark sky. He went back to the closet and picked up the mop. "Here? Maybe… No. I need more time.


OH MY GOD, I AM SOOOOOO KRYPTIC, AREN'T I? Line Breaks suck. I thank you all for reading as far as you have, even though I have, admittedly, not been giving you all very much to work with. Three chapters without much substance. As I am intent on saying over and over again, I have been typing a little longer than I used to so that I could make up the files that I had lost before. Also I apologize, because as you experienced writers most likely noticed, the writing was sort of rushed closer to the end. This is because I realized how long it had been since I updated this story. I will attempt to update within the week, but as I am certain that I will continue to say, no promises. If you can tell me how many times I said Vexen's name, you get a thumbs up from the Superior of the Stuffed Animals. Supreme King is out!