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Spell Check
003 . Issues with Commitment
(xxxxx)
God damn Axel.
The thoughts Larxene imagined could not be heard by any one else's ears but her own, though it was plausible that the heated mental insults could also slip from her mind with the steam that was jetting out of her ears; figuratively speaking, of course. In reality, that would probably be Axel taking on that certain characteristic; he was, after all, the pyro. Doubtless she had sparks flying around her head in a scintillating golden halo instead of flame, smoke, or any other arsonist paraphernalia. Her bangs certainly were aroused with electricity; currents of static coursed through the wispy blonde tendrils like blood through capillary veins.
"Damn it!"
The Savage Nymph detonated as she stomped through the extensive corridors of Castle Oblivion, combat boots creating thunderous explosions that resounded within the platinum-plated chambers with each heated step. They were punctuated by a curse, one per every footfall, and each one more eloquent than the last. Demyx, who had developed a special detector for Larxene's profanity (as he was the one she hurled her anger at the most because he always seemed to be at the wrong place at the wrong time), cringed in his bedroom the floor beneath and began to tentatively pluck at his sitar's strings, in order to make some noise to cover up the sacrilegious speech that graced his ears.
She continued down the hall, indestructible. Nothing could stand in her path – not even Zexion, who decided to stick his nose in a book (Harry Potter, she thought with distaste) and wander aimlessly around the middle of the hallway while he read, oblivious to the freight train heading his way.
"MOVE IT, EMO KID." And with little other warning, a black-sleeved arm lashed out and swept the area before her clean, knocking the enormous book (maybe it was the Bible instead) from his hands and sending it flying in a fluttering, one thousand page marathon across the room. As it clattered on the floor, the violet-haired individual teetered, as if struck by massive heel-rocking shock, and trembled his lower lip.
When she had passed on to the adjacent corridor, Number VI sniffed and quietly retreated to the corner and bent over to retrieve his book, which was in fact titled The Scientific Method.
After thirty more seconds of tromping towards her destination (God, why did Luxord reside so far away?), Larxene stopped and pondered why she hadn't just created a portal to his room.
Maybe because she was afraid of what the gambler did in his room in the evenings.
She found herself at his doorway, which was thankfully closed. Thankfully because she didn't exactly wish to see the inside of his room without a warning beforehand, and luckily because her anger had subsided to a dull throb at the base of her skull. If it had still engulfed the young woman, then she would have been infuriated at the closed door and kicked it down.
There were muffled sounds coming from the inside of the room; voices, or so she prayed. Tilting her head, she gently pressed her nest of straw-coloured hair and laid her ear against the metal portal. Curiosity sometimes got the best of her – the reminder caused her to unconsciously raise her hand up to touch her lips, where the feel of Axel's still burned. Another pulse of anger threatened to rise – but she shoved it back down just as the voices became distinct.
". . . Sixes?"
"Not quite, Xaldin."
A muttered curse. "It was worth a try."
"Go fish, my friend."
Larxene drew her head back and quirked a brow. Go fish? They were playing Go Fish?
Only Roxas was known for that, with his pet hamster. It was a pitiful sight to watch, really – not only was a fifteen year-old playing a six year-old card game, but the hamster was unresponsive except for when he snatched the cards from the boy's fingers and nibbled on them. Axel complained about the ever-present smell of shitty paper for weeks.
"But Axel, it's not Chigger's fault; he just likes the spades," She once overheard Roxas insist, flashing his doe-like orbs of forget-me-not blue in his best friend's direction. He learned, though, that their friend the pyro was merciless, after removing the rodent's cage from its regular spot on the dresser in his room. Axel would learn that Larxene had absolutely no mercy, as well.
She applied light pressure on the door, and it opened. Number XII had to blink her eyes twice to get her vision in check, for the room was dimly lit only by a lonely, naked bulb. It released a pool of margarine-yellow light onto a pool table that was positioned in the center of the room, separating two males cloaked in black. She flicked her hand back across her protruding stands of hair, shifting her gaze to a personal cigarette vending machine standing against one forest green wall. Interesting. A permanent stench of booze, smoke, and cologne flooded her nostrils seconds later, its progress probably delayed by the cloud of fog that was like a ghastly preternatural substance as it slid in front of the light, translucent.
"Can't say I appreciate your decorating, Luxord, though I must admit; it is rather . . . original." She said after a moment of studying the place.
The man with the neatly trimmed goatee, having already placed his hand of cards down on the sea green foam of the table, sidled his fingers before weaving them together. He looked up diligently, façade pleasantly expressionless. "What is it that brings you here, Larxene?"
Now, she always knew that Luxord had a sour intent, and she didn't like it. She knew by the camouflaged (though not entirely concealed) edge to his voice that he didn't wish her here. I don't knock – deal with it, you dirty Brit. Larxene did not know for a fact that Luxord was of British descent, as you tended to forget such petty things after years of being 'dead' (or at least to your former home and culture). However, his airy accent was anything but.
"I'd be quiet, Luxord; the rest of the Organization would be interested in knowing your habits of playing 'Go Fish' at night with Xaldin." His already albino face paled, and he and Xaldin exchanged nervous glances. The large man shifted in his chair, as if contemplating something very important (it was made known because of his visage, which was contorted in slow pain), then finally scooted out of his chair in a clutter of scraping chair legs on the carpet. He dismissed himself by muttering a half-hearted goodbye to his partner, who looked rather ungrateful of his hospitality. Then he and his long ropes of braided hair were gone in a swirl of darkness.
The Gambler of Fate spoke, displacing her from her reverie of how a man could have so much hair. In the sole company of Luxord, she forgot about the rest of the Organization, all of whom supported great masses of the stuff; such as Saïx, Xemnas, Zexion, Marluxia, Axel . . . She, being the only female in the group, had short hair (if you did not count her antennae, as a certain fellow member so charmingly put it). How did that turn out?
"Very well then, Larxene. I will not go against that particular admonishment." He said, tight lips crinkling into a very faint smile. Prick.
"Pff. Save that word for Axel, if you're ever unfortunate to come across him between now and . . . whenever his ridiculous obsession ends," She grunted, waving a hand to accentuate the dramatic situation. Fidgeting, she flicked her blue eyes to the door amidst her unusual disquiet. A thought occurred to her: Axel may have followed her. Then again, if she was expecting him, she'd better look all around the room for any hints of a portal so she could hopefully hightail it out of there. Further cases of sexual harassment were not objects she wished to collect, especially if the sex offender was the spiky-haired, smirking little twit –
She rubbed her lips again, furiously with the back of her sleeve.
Straightening her shoulders and her confidence, she slipped into the chair that Xaldin had abandoned. The one who wielded the element of lightning and storm stared impassively across the table at Luxord, whose brows had arched in interest.
"Axel, really? What is it that he's doing now?" Luxord and Axel were actually buddies of a sort. You know, like football-watching buddies – but worse. They partook in all the sins of older males together – drinking, gambling, and indulging. Well, Larxene may have caught them stumbling home drunk once from a stripping bar, and Axel's pants had nearly been falling down; she couldn't recall the situation lucidly, as she had been blinded by unexpected passion that had built up and spewed out of her unfeeling, heartless being in a rage for the young man's stupidity. He had sputtered out apologies and nearly been scared out of his wits, (which she doubted that he had any that night) but probably didn't know what he was apologizing for. Larxene realized she didn't know, either.
"Oh, you know Axel." She said in an off-handed way, shrugging a shoulder. Explaining why she was here in detail – which would mean going behind-the-scenes and spilling the previous hour's escapade – was not something she wished to expose to the world right now.
"Unfortunately, sometimes I think I don't." He admitted, lowering his gaze in an almost guilty way. She raised a brow at his irregular reaction.
"I don't think understanding Axel is exactly unfortunate."
". . . You're right."
She sighed, relieved that he didn't argue.
Well, are we moving on with it or not?
"To answer your initial question: apparently, I'm here for you, Luxord." She said, tracing shapes idly on the surface of the table with a fingertip and looking down while she did it. With planned precision she slowly looked up, drawing her lashes into a lavished curl of oiled soot. Luxord appeared to be gradually relaxing at her appeal. The corner of her pale lips curved upwards in steadily gaining triumph.
"Me?" Not so incredulous, not so questioning. Just wanting to know one thing: why. And show me.
"Mmm." She leaned foreward in her seat, over the expanse of sea green tabletop and closer to the expectant man. She stopped when she was sure that he could feel her hot, flowery breath on his face and continued to smile.
"You like to deal, yes?"
"It's my trade, my dear." I'm sure it is, you slick bastard.
"How about we make a deal, then. I'll 'play' for you . . ." Her finger pointed to the stack of cards listlessly and drawing a circle around it in the air, trying to draw his attention from her bosom to the objection, ". . . If you cease to deal with our friend Axel."
Finally, his eyes snapped back to her face. "'Play?'"
"Poker."
"Ah, poker. You wouldn't happen to mean . . ."
"I do."
He paused and studied her, as if trying to determine whether she was serious or not. God help her, she was.
"Well, then."
His hand reached for the deck and began to shuffle. She carefully eased back into her chair with gratitude.
"The rules of the game, Miss Larxene?"
"I am familiar with them." The statement delivered a mask of surprise to his face, but he continued to expertly divide the cards up and mold them back together. Mold, divide, mold, and divide. She watched, nearly entranced by the whirr of movement and colour: white, black, and red.
It wasn't like she was inexperienced with these matters. She couldn't let the boys have all of the fun, now could she? I am not a prude, no matter what the others may think. Just because she hadn't dated anyone since joining the Organization didn't mean she had to turn into a nun (all though, her apparel did match theirs quite closely). Consequentially, she did not believe in dating in this sort of after life, because they were Nobodies. They could not love (or so she was told). A relationship would be a pointless and utterly pathetic pseudo desire to pursue.
When he deemed it a worthy mix, Luxord passed out the cards in less than a few seconds (probably eager to start, she thought with an invisible roll of her eyes) – a rapid succession of gunfire made from a harmless deck of playing cards. Well, not so harmless: they did, after all, make Roxas's rat – er, hamster – rather sick, and they were the chosen weapons of Luxord. He killed people with them. So, maybe not so harmless.
She stared at the six cards lain face-down before her. This is my fate, She internally professed, and felt a strange sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Nervous? Naw.
Larxene was never nervous.
"Any threes, Larx –"
"Threes? No, but I've got a twos." A voice interrupted, filled with joking. From the corner of her eye, Larxene spotted a hedgehog's back of cherry red spines bobbing atop of a grinning head. She scowled. Axel.
The tall individual strode in without invitation, followed by a boy who appeared almost half his height. Axel collapsed into a seat at the head of the table, purposely going around Larxene to access it, and propped his black-clad legs onto the table with a reassuring thump. Roxas silently took a seat in the opposite chair, first attempting to make unattainable eye contact with Luxord to make sure if he was allowed, whose gaze was pointed in a glare at Axel for interrupting the game.
"I have to tell you, you walk quickly when you're angry, Larxene. Like a mouse in a labyrinth looking for the piece of cheese. I had to ask Zexy where you were heading, and that was a tricky task, as he was nearly crying when I did so. Could barely stutter out a word, the little moping bugger." Grin. So cheery, chipper little birdie. Fly, fly away, and be gone with you, Larxene thought sourly.
When Larxene only heightened her glare of daggers (and popped her claws beneath the table) in response, Luxord 'ahem'ed politely.
"Well, the more the merrier, I suppose." He said, though a little begrudgingly.
"What were you two playing?" Roxas asked curiously, noticing the splayed cards between the two.
"Poker," Stated Luxord simply. Larxene inwardly praised him for his lack of subliminal messages.
"Oh." His voice sunk. "I was hoping Gold Fish."
"It's 'Go Fish,' Roxas." Axel corrected; "And besides, why would you two be playing a card game like that this late?" And right after I chased you out of the library? His eyes foretold, though he did not speak out loud.
Roxas was glad to support his friend. "There has got to be a catch," He said. "Larxene doesn't like card games. She said so when she fried Chigger's cards that one time."
"My cards," Luxord all but gasped. Roxas looked at him innocently.
Axel leaned back further in his seat, folding his arms over his flat chest. "I'll bet you it's strip poker."
"Oh, nuh-uh!" Roxas exclaimed, nearly leaping out of his chair as he jerked his head towards Larxene. "Not Larxene; ewww –"
"Will you two cut it out?" The woman yelled in a snappish, final way. "And no more bets, Axel, I told you that."
"You expect me to listen to you, Superior?" The redhead mocked.
Luxord seemed bemused. "It wouldn't be wise to call her by the true Superior's title, Axel."
"Oh. I suppose it'd be wise to go apologize to him personally, then. Okay." His lips cocked into a smirk, the dark tattoos underneath his eyes glittering distinctly on his shadowed complexion. I win, his bright emerald eyes read.
The only time Axel had ever apologized to Xemnas was . . . well, never. Larxene sat, a little stumped at her sudden conclusion. It had never occurred to her before that Axel could get away with absolutely everything. He had done plenty of bad deeds and broken a mountain of rules since joining the Organization, but never once had he been severely punished as all the rest. And, he had managed to kiss her without being killed. That was still on her to-do list, mind.
She crossed her arms and continued glaring at the fellow Organization member. The atmosphere around them was cold; unrelenting.
"Will you play or will you not, Axel?" Luxord asked, sounding a bit peeved. Or perhaps he was just impatient at this terse tirade.
"Oh," he responded, brilliant cat-eyes flashing like they would when a feline spots a cornered mouse, "I'll play."
Larxene, though wanting to object, knew it was futile. Axel would only charm his friend into letting him play – besides, he probably thought, what harm was there?
"Roxas'll have to leave, though."
This caused the boy to blink and whirl his great saucer eyes at his older friend, torn and shocked. "Aww; why?" Poor kid. He sounded really bummed. Wait – did she want Roxas to stick around when everyone was stripping? Um, no.
"Do you really want to see Larxene naked, kid?" As though Axel were reading her very thoughts, he spoke them aloud, giving Roxas his perfectly understandable reasons. "Adult content. Out."
"You're funny, Axel. You make it sound as if I'm actually going to lose."
"You did just an hour ago, didn't you?"
She pulled her lower lip in, tightened it, and refrained herself from saying anything more by pinning it down with her teeth. The past was not something to get worked up over. What happened, happened . . . and would hopefully never happen again.
Axel turned back to Roxas. "You're dismissed. Consider your freedom an early Christmas gift; Signed, Your Friend Axel." Roxas cared not to snort at His Friend Axel's peculiar humour and summoned up a portal rather quickly out of the game room. This left the three Nobodies to stare each other down with intense gazes, blue green blue, preparing for battle.
"Your hand, Axel," Luxord announced, and with a flick of his wrist, made six cards line up neatly before the redhead.
They all gathered up their cards and examined them, cupping their hands to make it a difficult and telltale journey for anyone's wandering gazes that would just so happen to peek over.
Larxene checked her cards, eyes memorizing the colours, symbols, and numbers engraved on each one's face. It wasn't a bad hand – but it wasn't superb, either.
"Before we start," Axel drawled after a moment, "I'd like to make a proposal."
"You want to marry Larxene?" The blonde of the masculine gender inquired, detecting mixed messages.
"In his dreams."
"Not even in those, Larx."
She couldn't explain why, but a feeling of being physically crushed was always associated with being rejected. She clenched her hand and jerked it under the table, willing the undesirable feeling away.
"Aren't I special."
"Oh, I have dreams about you – silence your weeping heart! Just about burning you instead."
"Well then I'm happy to inform you that I have dreams about first castrating you, then getting Demyx to douse your silly hair and water-phobic body, impaling your scant gut with my knives, and then channeling the highest voltage of electricity into you so you suffer a horrible, horrible death."
Her sadism caused both men to blink. For once, Axel could not think of a quick enough comeback. Larxene settled back into her chair with a small smirk. Now it's one to two – I'm gaining on you.
"Your statement, Axel?" Luxord asked after a few seconds passed by of pause.
His eyes flashed to Larxene. "Before I was so rudely interrupted, I was going to ask if you'd like to do something a little . . . out of the ordinary tonight."
"I think Larxene joining us for a round is out of the ordinary enough," Number X observed, albeit of his observation, interested.
"Let's forget the cards for once and have a little spelling bee, humm?"
"Oh, no. I am not going through another one of your idiotic little 'spelling bees –'" Larxene immediately began to interject, before being silenced by the wave of Luxord's hand.
"It sounds rather different indeed, Axel. I suppose I'll try to take you up on your offer." Now both males wore a grin, as if sharing some kind of secret code. Oh, right.
"I guess we're going to be stripping still?"
"Sharp as a bullet, Larxene."
"Right you are."
She fell back at the chorus with a slight frown tugging at her lips.
"You men are despicable. And bullets aren't sharp, just so you know."
"Xigbar's apparently are."
"Only because you're the only one who is unfortunate enough to be made a target for them –"
"Ah," Luxord sighed softly, looking on the snappish argument and smiling, "You two are too charming together."
Larxene, who had nearly been close to climbing up over the table and strangling Axel's slender throat and Axel, who had been acting as if nothing had happened (or slowly sliding his chair back to put himself at more distance from the bloodthirsty Larxene), both turned and stared at the gambler dumbly.
"Honestly though, people," Larxene snorted at the false reference, "can't we get on with the game?"
"I'd be more than glad to."
"I'm sure you would," The young woman quipped.
"Honestly!"
"Your first word is 'Contingency,' Luxord."
And so it began. The fated spelling bee – this time, the outcome could be certainly less pleasant than the previous. Then again, if she managed to succeed this time, the all-around word-lover would be sent to his own drowning humiliation.
For ten minutes, every letter was clearly enunciated, beautifully articulated, and correctly spelled. Then Axel slipped on the word 'Superfluous.'
"How could you get that wrong, Axel? It's so eighth grade." Despite her protest, Larxene was elated that he had made a mistake.
Irritably, he said in his defense, "Those 'u's always get to me." He slipped off a glove, revealing a hand that appeared even paler than his face. It was toilsome to differentiate the shades of skin in the faulty lighting. "No matter. Let's see you try and spell 'Exacerbate.'"
"You two are only exacerbating me," Luxord commented, and they both ignored him.
"E – X – A – S – wait, what the hell!" She glared narrowly at a snickering Axel, who had conjured a flame in the palm of his hand to flare up in her peripheral vision at the designated time. Her antennae dangled in her face and nearly threatened to extend their lengths and whip him for his cheating behavior. "You distracted me!
"No, YOU –" Whirling on Luxord, she pointed an accusing finger at him. "—just had to comment and ruin my concentration –"
Axel regained his composure, the muscles around his mouth relaxing into a smile. "Face it, Larxene. You're a sore loser."
"I refuse to lose to a bunch of losers," She spat, crossing her arms.
"Enough. I believe it's my turn; and, Larxene, that's a glove." Larxene bickered and muttered incoherently while removing her left mitten at the host's request. She flung it across the room, aiming for Axel's face but instead the black blur glided feet past. She visibly simmered.
"Nice aim."
"Stow it."
Soon Larxene and Axel had gotten rid of their gloves, boots, and socks; Luxord was the only one fully clothed. Larxene blamed his sly trickery – she could have sworn, now, that X-ray vision was within his range of abilities . . .
"How do you keep on winning?" Inquired the female washout, yanking at her zipper she was trying to remove instead of her entire coat.
"It's the British in him," Axel stated, though not all that lightly. He was torn in between eagerly staring at Larxene and frowning at Luxord.
"If this were real poker, I'd say he'd be a Jew."
"You don't have to be German to be Jewish," Said Axel, whose name was in fact of German origin.
"He doesn't have brown hair, though," She pointed out.
"This discussion is making me doubt my rights," Luxord commented, eyebrows vaguely raised.
"Everyone's a little bit racist."
"Don't start quoting Avenue Q around me, Larxene. Roxas does it enough," Axel groaned, undoubtedly recalling dreadful memories of his little (butt) buddy singing "If You Were Gay" to him when the Superior happened to materialize in their room that same moment. Xemnas was quite disturbed by Axel's apparent change in orientation, and left in a hurry.
When Larxene had heard about the minor escapade from Demyx, who had heard from Zexion, who had heard from Lexaeus, who had heard from Saïx, she badgered Axel for an entire day and persisting that he was indeed un-straight. "I am not gay," The fire-wielder had insisted tirelessly, but she had yet to either fully believe his statement or simply let the fateful misunderstanding go.
"If you were queer . . ." She began to lilt softly, smirking.
". . . I wouldn't want you to take off your cloak right now," He finished, mirroring her smirk, in which did not have a pair for long, as Larxene's was replaced with a scowl.
"Any day now, Larxene."
Reluctantly she stood up.
"Squandering your time doesn't help any . . ." Luxord droned.
"Oh, shut up, both of you. I'm going." The Savage Nymph hissed, fingers fumbling with the zipper. She turned her back on them, facing that battered little cigarette machine that Axel had been fondling over the entire time, but never once spent the money on retrieving a pack from it. It was ironic that for someone who breathed in smoke the majority of his undead life, he did not smoke.
"Smoking causes cancer and death," He always said mechanically whenever the topic was brought up – more so often whenever Xigbar offered him a carefully wrapped smoke.
"I bet I smoked when I was whole," Roxas observed wisely one day, as if stating the prodigious meaning of life.
"I bet you did," Axel proffered, though highly doubted a boy like Sora had ever befouled his hand by touching one. "I bet you smoked up the entire house one night with your rowdy friends, got drunk, and had to have the firemen come because you were burning up. And that's how you died," He finished on an optimistic note.
Roxas pouted. "I think you're lying." He highly supported a cooler death than that, with guns and beasts and explosions. Never would he guess at suicide.
With a growl, the blonde slipped from her heavy coat and turned back to her chair, dressed in a plain black T-shirt and the standard opaque jeans they were all required to wear (at least during the daytime hours). Axel applauded listlessly, and she shot him another chilling look, armed with a word.
"'Misogynist,'" She all but snarled. It was more of an insult than a legitimate question, but she doubted he'd get it wrong since he fit the definition so well.
To her surprise, he got it wrong.
"Just to get even with Larxie and all. I felt bad for her being the only one coatless." He explained after settling back down in a tank top that clung too much around his abdomen, defining his broad torso and compact muscles in his stomach well. She looked away, gritting her teeth.
Words later, Larxene and Luxord's positions had not changed, but Axel was clothed more scantily than the rest. His shirt had been done away with, exposing his finely-toned chest that Larxene made an effort to ignore.
When Luxord asked Axel to spell 'Intransigence,' off came his pants that would make any fangirl squeal with triumph and delight. Larxene was not surprised that his boxers supported tiny flames on a black fabric. In truth (which, this was a sort of scary thought), she could probably guess all of the men's boxers in the Organization. The designs were simple: pink flowers for Marluxia (silk), cards for Luxord, The Hulk for Lexaeus, Dr. Eggman for Xemnas, AC/DC for Demyx, Japanese kanji for Saïx (or Speedo), Hawthorne Heights for Zexion or some other emo screamo band, Bill Nye for Vexen, Captain Jack Sparrow for Xigbar (or commando), Naruto for Xaldin (or Rent – Xaldin was quite fond of Angel), and hamsters or Hot Wheels for Roxas. Or briefs. Or diapers, given his frequent bouts of immaturity.
Larxene grinned when her turn came around to demand a word from Axel. Seeing him nude wasn't exactly on her agenda, but if it was going to help her get vengeance on him, then so be it. "Axel, spell 'Vociferous.'"
The redhead's lips created a tenuous line as he clicked his front teeth together, biding time.
"Axel . . . ?" Luxord questioned after twenty seconds had gone by without him answering.
"You don't know it, do you." Sadistic glee surged in Larxene's voice as she placed her chin on her curled hand, bright blue eyes alight and dancing with victory.
"Axel," The Gambler of Fate said, raising a card to strike him with.
Finally did Axel stir. "Well, this has been a great time of bonding with you and all, and I'm sure it'll be committed to my memory for the years to come. But I'm afraid that I must excuse myself from this game at this very moment."
Before either of them could stop him, he created a portal and fled. It'd be ignorant to say that he didn't hear Larxene's scream of outrage as he disappeared into oblivion.
"That coward!"
In the end, she would get her revenge. She would see to it personally.
A u t h 0 r ' s eND N 0 t e
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Ahahaha, yes, Roxas has a hamster. I think it matches his personality / appearance very well. -shot.-
And don't ask about the underwear thing… omg… my brother and I had fun with that.
Because I am quite the failure at vocabulary, it'd be much appreciated ( and would save me a lot of time ) if you suggested a couple of advanced words to befuddle the Organization characters with that you may know. I'll love you and your SAT word skillz foreverrr. :o
Next victims that are up: Xigbar, Xaldin, and Lexaeus. Including a few special guests here and there.