The Party from Hell
There's a party in the Underworld! All of the major villains are invited, but what's this? Maleficent won't let her newest ally attend? Well...Riku's going to go anyway! Insanity, drinking contests, and Chris Farley impersonations abound!
A/N: Well, here's Chapter 4! I had so much fun writing this. And of course, I had to insert my most favorite villain of all time: Scar, from the Fullmetal Alchemist anime. LOVE HIM! Any villain requests, just review, and I'll consider them. I also had fun with the Meg/Maleficent conversation. Meg just strikes me as the type who'd curse out an annoying witch if she had to.
Disclaimer: Don't own Kingdom Hearts, Fullmetal Alchemist, anything Disney-owned, or the song "She's a Rebel," by Green Day.
Chapter Four: The Angry Bartender
Megaera wasn't having fun. Hades had forced her to come to his stupid party. Not just come, of course, but serve hors d'oeuvres in a skimpy dress. Boy when she got her hands on him... Well, let's just say that he and Persephone wouldn't be buying any nursery paraphernalia. It could have been worse, though. She could have been the bartender.
Meg spared a sympathetic glance towards the bar. The aforementioned bartender was currently stirring up a gin and tonic. He slammed the drink down in front of some nameless grave-robber with a growled, "Enjoy the party," his intense blue eyes narrowed fiercely, and the blond spikes of his hair quivering with rage and contempt. Yup, he was none other than...Cloud Strife.
Meg had a free moment (she was between trays), so she went over to pay him a visit. "How's it shaking, emo-bitch?" she called.
"Fine, you arrogant whore!" Cloud retorted. Meg grinned to herself. The two of them had struck up a sort of friendship while unwillingly spending their time in Hades' service. They had conversations like this all the time.
"So, seriously, what's up?" Meg asked, claiming a seat as Cloud came over. Cloud grunted. "Ever the conversationalist," she added wryly.
"He's here..." Cloud growled, shaking all over with pure ire. "That bastard..."
Meg knew of only one person who could spark such a reaction in Cloud. "Oh, no..." she breathed, her ankles going weak with genuine fear. "You don't mean..." Reflexively, she glanced down the bar. Sitting about eleven seats away was the One-Winged Angel of Death himself...Sephiroth. Who currently was sipping at his peach-and-lime daiquiri with a certain dignified "I-could-totally-pown-any-of-these wannabes-with-my-pinky-toe-of-doom"...air. If such an air exists, that is. And if it didn't, Sephiroth had just invented it.
"Has he killed anybody yet?" Meg asked.
"Well, I'm not sure because it was too quick to see, but he might have incinerated about seven deranged fangirls. They don't seem to quite grasp the concept of dangerous murdering lunatic Squeenix incarnation of Chuck Norris," Cloud snarled to himself, his fingers drumming a rhythm on the hilt of his Buster Sword.
"Hey, buddy! Whose leg do you gotta hump to get a dry martini around here?" shrieked some annoying antagonist (insert your favorite, I don't care). Cloud sighed. "Well, Meg, looks like I have a job to attend to. I'll talk to you later."
"Have fun," Meg sighed, and picked up her next tray—cocktail weenies in caviar. Privately, Meg thanked the gods that she didn't have to eat the food. She did not go more than three steps before slamming into someone who'd just materialized six feet in front of her. BANG!
The food went flying, and Meg managed to catch a chair before falling on her butt. "Hey, watch it!" she snapped. "It's not wise to poof into a crowded room, dumbass!"
The person turned around. "Excuse me," snarled Maleficent, "but do you know to whom you speak, wench?"
"Damn, yeah, Malefi-shit," Meg snapped.
Maleficent's face hardened, and her eyes flashed. "Watch your mouth, you little slut."
"Ooh, she calls me a name. Where's your Disney villain dialogue now, bi-atch?" Meg challenged. At the bar, the Master Chief appreciatively whistled, and there was some scattered applause. Any worthy villain appreciates a good cat fight. "Got a thorn vine stuck up your ass?"
"I don't have unlimited time to squander trading insults with a whore like you," Maleficent sneered. "I have matters to attend to." She turned and stalked off, not even bothering to poof out.
"Stupid freaking witch," Meg muttered to herself, grabbing the tray to take back and dusting herself off. Noticing the stares of the other criminals, she snarled, "What are you looking at, ass-face?" She stalked off in the other direction.
Jabba the Hutt turned back to the bar. "I was born this way," he sulked.
XxXxX
"I'd, umm..." Demyx stammered into the microphone. "I'd like to, uh, dedicate this next, um, song to, uhh...to my, um, associate, umm...to her; her name is, umm..." He was blowing it and he knew it.
Axel quickly covered for him. "THIS ONE GOES OUT TO LARXENE FROM DEMYX!!" he bellowed, and drum-soloed right into Seven Ate Nine's rendition of "She's a Rebel" by Green Day.
Out in the audience, Larxene got the shock (no pun intended) of her non-existent life. Here she was, arrived early at the party to eat something and break a few poor saps' hearts, and all of a sudden, the Melodious Nocturne up and dedicates a song to her! A song! To her! Why? Not much of a point when you've lost the ability to love, unless he had some raging hormones that needed quelling; and if that was the case, she was going to castrate him with an electric toothbrush.
"Is she dreaming/ What I'm thinking?/ Is she the mother of all bombs gonna detonate?" Demyx sang at that precise moment, as if he knew her train of thought. (Actually, if he had known her train of thought, he would have fainted dead on the floor, but she didn't care.)
Larxene stood up and shouted in response, "Hell yeah!" She was going to get to the bottom of this quandary if it took her all night! Plus, she'd had a few shots of scotch and whiskey, so her judgment was impaired.
Larxene's angry detonation was delayed, however, by some crazy man jumping up onto the stage. His short white-beige hair stuck up in all directions. His eyes were bloodshot from the apparent amount he'd been drinking, but they would have appeared red regardless, because his irises were crimson. An enormous X-shaped scar on his forehead extended down over his eyes. There was an ornate black tattoo traced all over his right bicep and down his forearm. He was swaying from side to side, clearly dead drunk.
"Foolish villains!" he slur-shouted. What with his brown leather jacket, funky tattoo, small-lensed sunglasses that were currently hanging from his left ear, and crazy appearance, he looked like a deranged biker. "Don't think you'll be spared! You're all using equipment with alchemic modifications!!" The crazy man leapt into the air and bore down on one of the speakers, screaming, "GOD JUDGES YOU!!"
The expensive piece of sound equipment exploded spectacularly in a scarlet flash of light from the man's tattoo. "Hey!" Demyx shouted in falsified anger (although he thought it was genuine, poor sap). "You, with the scar! You're messing with my groove!"
The scarred man drew himself up with as much dignity as someone who'd just blown up a speaker could muster. After blinking hazily for a moment, he slurred, "Brother...why have you cursed me so??" He stumbled backwards, and passed out next to the punch bowl.
The room was silent. Demyx and Axel turned very slowly to look at Saïx. "Did he just call you 'brother'?" Demyx asked hesitantly.
Saïx shrugged. "I've never seen that pathetic nutjob in my life, or lack thereof," he informed them dispassionately.
Axel narrowed his eyes. "I knew it!" he announced triumphantly. "It makes sense—you have the same scar, the same berserker madness, the same lack of fear of public humiliation...SAÏX HAS A LONG-LOST BROTHER!" The crowd burst into spontaneous applause and jeering laughter.
"I do not," Saïx insisted. "I killed every member of my family and feasted on their hearts." The crowd immediately clapped harder.
"Maybe he's a half-brother," Demyx suggested.
"Maybe you should shut up before I put a Claymore-sized indentation in your face," Saïx threatened.
"DENIAL!" Axel accused. Saïx whipped out his Claymore, eyes blazing with synthetic fury. Axel started spinning his chakrams. Demyx started breathing hard.
"Guys? Come on guys, let's finish the song," he pleaded, close to hyperventilating. "You know I have a phobia of confrontation, guys! (wheeze wheeze) Please? Can't we resolve this in a (pant) peaceable manner?" It didn't help that the throngs of bad guys were stamping and chanting, "FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!"
Demyx completely snapped and ran off screaming from the stage. It's fair to point out that anyone who's ever seen Saïx in berserk mode would do this, but it's hard to defend Demyx, since he technically can't feel fear...even if he is in denial. Whatever. He's still gorgeous.
Wait a minute...
Larxene froze. Did she just think that? (I bet you all forgot that this segment was still in Larxene's POV. Ha-ha, suckas!)
XxXxX
Meanwhile, Riku was busy having the time of his fifteen-year-old life...
"So...what's the blindfold for?" giggled a vacuous brunette, perhaps the ninth girl in forty minutes to ask. Riku flashed his best smile (the one that he, Sora, Wakka, and Tidus scientifically proved to increase female hormonal activity) and used the same cheesy line he'd used on the other eight. "I'm blinded by your beauty, baby," he said winningly.
The girl tittered. "I love your hair," she gushed, twirling her fingers in it. "It's so soft...and pink...What's your name?"
Riku internally scowled. He hated giving his name as Marluxia (what a stupid name, so ridiculously feminine). So, instead, he opted for the mysterious stranger approach. "For you, baby, I could be whoever you want."
"Oooh," the girl giggled, clearly thinking she'd picked a winner. "Want to dance?" She apparently hadn't noticed that the band currently was not playing any music—was, in fact, beating each other to within inches of their half-lives.
Before Riku could answer, a large hulking buzz-cutted guy came up behind the tittering brunette and clamped a protective hand on her shoulder. He obviously was her ex-boyfriend (or current boyfriend, as she was probably a fickle deceiving villainous cheerleader or some other silly stereotype), and he of course could be expected to be one of those generic football-player-bully antagonists that so many teen dramas were lousy with. So unoriginal. "What are you looking at, butthead?" he demanded.
"Your mom, spit-face," Riku retorted. The guy (he probably had a stupid tough-sounding nickname like Flash or Biff or The Juicer, but we'll call him Freddy for today) flushed. "What did you say?" he threatened.
"I said, turd-for-brains..." Riku smirked and pointed, "Your mom's here."
Freddy jerked around reflexively. "No, she's n..." he began, but then saw that Riku was pointing at Ursula. He flushed a deeper shade of red. "You're gonna pay for that crack, punk," he growled, throwing a punch that Riku dodged with ease. He threw more punches, swings, and kicks. Riku ducked and dodged them all without moving more than three feet in any direction.
Finally, Freddy just leapt at him, intending to bear Riku to the ground and pummel him there. He mostly missed, but he managed to knock Riku off balance and over on his back. "Now I've got ya!" Freddy shouted triumphantly, panting. His girlfriend squealed with delight at a good view of Riku's rear end (yes, the view was obstructed by his black pants and heavy black cloak, but a rear end as delicious as Riku's remains delicious viewed through any medium).
Therefore, Freddy was taken thoroughly by surprise when Riku curled up and sprang forward, feet-first, as if shot out of a gun. He hit Freddy with such force that the entire crowded room could hear the crunch of Fred's nose. (Not that they gave a damn. Villains, remember?) Freddy fell down, writhing and moaning. Riku flicked an errant strand of pink hair elegantly back into place.
"AAUGHH, MY FACE!!" Freddy screamed. Riku shrugged. "Looks like you got your face kicked in by a guy in a blindfold," he informed Fred without shame or sympathy.
"Oh, wow," the brunette said dreamily. "Even his ass kicks ass."
Riku blew her a jaunty kiss. "Sorry, sweet-cheeks, but I'm questing the galaxy for my long-lost love interest. Maybe if she turns out to be comatose or otherwise taken by my spiky-headed best friend, I'll give you a call." Before she could reply and ruin his dramatic exit, Riku leapt up, grabbed one of the strings of festive party lights, and swung away in a very heroic fashion far across the cavern.
The airheaded brunette hurriedly called, "Wait! What's your name?" The answer floated back to her, sounding a bit exasperated, "Marluxia, dammit!"
She put her hand over her heart, clearly smitten. Freddy rose up behind her, face purple and nose splattered all over his visage (ouch). His eyes smoldered. "Who was that masked punk?" he growled.
"Marluxia..." the girl dreamily repeated.
XxXxX
Riku eventually ended up at the bar next to a terrified, panic-stricken Demyx. Demyx was white and visibly trembling, his gloved hands wrapped around a mug of ale. Riku had a glass of punch, but he had been too busy managing Demyx to try it. "They...they were going to hurt each other very badly," he muttered, eyelids twitching. "I...I hate fighting. I'm a lover, not a fighter. Why do you think I got into music in the first place??"
Riku patted his shoulder. "Dude...chill. It'll be okay." To Cloud, he hissed, "Get him another beer, okay? I think he'll be all right."
Cloud, who had been serving drinks to bitchy villains, was not in a good mood. He whipped out his Buster Sword and smashed Demyx's mug. Demyx, already having a nervous breakdown, squealed, and ducked under the counter, begging, "Please, please, not the face, don't hurt her, they're all dead..." Evidently, he was reliving some horrible, tragic, traumatic memory from his childhood. The villains pointed at him and laughed.
"Listen, my girly-haired friend," Cloud snarled, "I've been working this bar all night, and I would appreciate if you cut me a break."
Riku looked at his watch. "It's 7:30. You've been working for an hour and a half," he protested angrily.
Cloud wrenched his sword free from the counter, and it probably would have gotten ugly, but right then the woman on Demyx's other side let out a piercing shriek and fell to the ground, writhing. "AAUGHH!!" she screamed. "AAUUHH OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD ZZGLAAGGRHHH!!"
Cloud, Riku, and Demyx watched in growing horror as a fully formed Shadow ripped itself out of the woman's chest cavity, à la Alien. The woman went limp, her death throes spent. The Shadow dashed off to do funky, Heartless-y things.
The three of them just stared for a full minute in shock, while the unfortunate woman's blood soaked into the cracks in the cave floor. No one else seemed to care. Eventually, Cloud managed to speak.
"...I've never seen the punch do that," he finally said.
Riku pushed his untouched glass as far away from himself as possible.
XxXxX
The saga of Bob continues...
"So, you say your name is Klara, with a K?" Bob clarified, scrawling the insipid brunette's name in a notepad. Klara nodded, already bored. "I just have one last question for you. Have you found any men at this party attractive? Enough to merit notice, particularly in the rear region?"
Klara immediately perked up. "Marluxia!" she squealed.
Bob took the name down. "What color was his hair?"
"Pink as the dawning sun..." she sighed dramatically. Bob frowned, and put a line through the name.
Riku never did find out that Demyx saved his immortal soul that night by dyeing his hair.
A/N: Wahoo! I love writing this entire story. Next chapter: Riku is bringing sexy back, and the rest of the Organization shows up, including a certain flower-loving scythe-wielder... Will Riku's cover be blown? And what is up with the punch?