As the two neophytes were emoing on the counter, washing away their troubles on the sweet sinful tides of alcohol, Vexen was marching right up to the counter to do just that.

It must have been a shock to see the elder Organization member come to an establishment like the Wild Ginger (one would have thought that the bright lights and music would have caused him to have a heart attack), and it was equally surprising that he actually chose to sit with the neophytes, demanding some vodka on the rocks as he sat down.

"Marluxia. Demyx." Vexen said in greeting, clutching at his head. Obviously, there was something wrong with Number Four.