paixaorpg | Demon's Party [Active]

Entry tags:

Demon's Party [Active]

Character(s): Luxord, Zexion, Marluxia
Content: Luxord, Zexion, and Marluxia being bitchfaces, basically.
Setting: Joutenhiem Gate
Time: Monday, Afternoon
Warnings: Bitching and swearing.

"No, I don't like the look of that one - too… sensitive looking. With a piteous heart like that, the annoying creature will never survive here for long." A cruel smile grew on his face, and he turned to regard the other, and rather put off, Nobody. "Want to bet on how long they'll last?"

Left leg crossed under the other and right heel incessantly bouncing off the wall with an audible thump each time, Number Ten sat perched on top of the information booth for their assigned gate, fiddling his thumbs absentmindedly while glancing at the newcomers below. He had been doing this non-stop for the past thirty minutes, insisting that they should examine what they had to work with. The wagers on their life spans just came naturally.

Actually, it was not as if Luxord really cared what came through the gate, considering his lack of enthusiasm to get any work done. Even if a pink, three-headed dragon with a servere case of MPD charged through with a sombrero and tossed burritos-bombs to local civilians, the scene would not gain his interest in the least. No, this was all an attempt to make his aggravating "friend" get some sun on his alarmingly pale complexion.

Even looking at the man hurt his eyes. It was almost like staring at snow on a sunny morning - blinding and caused your will to break in five different places.

"You know, the odds are really against you being killed for leaving that abomination-hole you refer to as a research lab." While saying this, he made sure to kick the side of the booth a few more times, enjoying the repetitive "thunk"s and "clunk"s the leather of his boot made against the metal wall. "I don't really see while you insist on staying in that hive."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Zexion sighed. Heavily. For the umpteenth time.

This was not how he had planned to start his day. No, not at all. He was supposed to wake up, conduct his usual morning routines, and then head to the lab. He had subjects to check up on, but no. No, Luxord the barbaric blonde just had to waltz through his door and drag him away from his precious work. It was a wonder he was able to fend the man off long enough to set his projects aside. One couldn't up and leave things on burners, or containers open to be soured by the air, or valuable sheets of complex and unfinished diagrams, data, and logs lying about. Those had to be organized! And quite well hidden, especially if one wanted to avoid a clumsy Neophyte spilling something on the papers or-- ugh-- coloring on them with Naminé's pencils.

Needless to say, Zexion was not at ALL pleased with how his afternoon was unfolding. It was true, he did need to get out and about in order to do some scouting. He wouldn't have minded baking in the fake-sunlight if that were the case. But, as luck would have it, he was instead stuck standing at his assigned gate, watching as confused newcomers filtered through. It wasn't entirely a waste of time, he supposed-- a few times, he had pulled out his journal and scribbled down a private note or two; notes that he refused to reveal to Luxord, no matter how much he was pestered, before silently shutting it and tucking the metal square right back in his pocket.

Still. It didn't mean he was pleased with any of this.

...Especially with that enraging tapping of Luxord's heel against the side of the booth. Blue eyes narrowed hatefully at the source of the sound, before the heated glare turned upwards, fixating on the other man's face. "I would much rather bet on how long you would last."

Was it a roundabout threat? Maybe. Maybe not. It was hard to tell what went on in that head of Zexion's, and he sure wasn't going to spill any secrets.

Turning away from the high-seated blonde, Zexion focused his attention back on the bodies passing through he gates. Watching them-- studying them, even, mentally ticking off physical weaknesses he saw, analyzing temperaments... things of that sort. Every now and then, his gloved fingers would twitch, as if itching to retrieve his journal again and write. But, more often than not, it didn't go much further than that. For the past fifteen minutes or so, Zexion had not seen any particularly spectacular specimens. None that he felt absolutely compelled to make a memo of.

Besides, it was hard to concentrate with that.. tapping...

That damnable tapping.

The insulting of his laboratory broke the dam, so to speak. A hand shot out, gripping Luxord's ankle and stilling his leg. "Luxord," he began, a stern expression steeled on his face as he peered up at him once again. "If you do not cease your kicking, I will not hesitate to remove your leg." A squeeze to the captured ankle was given for emphasis, then the hand was retracted and his attention turned back to the gate.

The last thing he had wanted to do was touch Luxord, but all previous verbal warnings had failed.

For the sake of a limb, Zexion hoped this attempt would be successful.

Like hell Luxord ever listened to his seniors.

His smile almost turned into a snarl the second the other man grabbed his ankle, but, after quickly reminding his subconscious that ~~he was indeed not Saïx~~ control was a key factor in his profession and it would not broken on someone as humorless and staid as Zexion, his mood went back to the habitual amused state that was ever so annoying to everyone else.

Still, he entertained the thought of forcefully beating the smaller man in the back of the head with the heel of his boot. Then again, Zexion did make good with his word, if a certain invisible syringe in his bed taught him something.

Whistling to spite the other member would just have to do.

Despite being in such a new and flashy environment, there was nothing to be done and even less to be interested in. The gate had been attention-halting for a second to some degree - until his discovery of the falsity of the arrangements of the plants, the unnatural curve and sheen to the trees - apparently some sort of cruel joke that was not lost upon him, and was less than amusing.

He was entertaining the thought of perhaps choking the Superior for a brief moment, because he had the feeling the Nobody had unconciously put him in a gate with fake plants. And, well. The fact annoyed him and irritated him to an astounding degree.

After entering the gate to this new city, he had wandered briefly, looking over the machine the one at the gate had given him with distaste. What did they honestly waste their time doing on these machines? What an utterly boring, meaningless existence. It suited the little drones.

But, as distasteful as the gate was, it was even more insulting to find himself in a poor district, surrounded by ragged and haggard drones. It hadn't taken the brunet long to approach a corridor of darkness, sending him somewhere else, to which he cared not where.

Unluckily, he happened to land at another gate populated with other Nobodies, which was not how he felt he should be spending his afternoon.

He looked up to the one on the booth impassively, ignoring the lack of volume that was Zexion's existence. "Enjoying watching the ants, are we?"

The swinging motion of a black boot was no longer seen in the corner of his eye, and neither were the accompanying heavy thumps of the thick sole against the side of the Joutenheim booth heard. Number Six breathed a gentle sigh of relief. Normally, repetitive sounds had no effect on him, but it when it was being done for the purpose of being annoying.. it was exactly that.

Tch. Neophytes. Completely hopele-- ...

..Was he whistling now?

Yes. He was.

Zexion knew it was being done to aggravate him. Luxord's immaturity was absolutely stunning, as was his bravado. Evidently, drastic measures would have to be taken with this one. As if being jabbed with needles and running face-first into walls wasn't enough to get the point across. Bristling, Zexion turned toward the blonde perched on top of the booth, a scowl full of murderous intent plastered on his face as he opened his mouth to speak... only to be interrupted by ~~the Queen of All Things Flamboyant and Dramatic~~ Marluxia.

Normally, this would have been an upsetting occurence, but now, he was thankful for the newest addition. Hopefully, Luxord would focus on annoying him instead.

In truth, the tapping had not been out of spite. While Luxord was known to go out of his way to make existence as miserable as possible for certain members, that time was actually unintentional. He was personally fond of repetition - he found that knowing exactly what was going to happen, and the fact that it would continue again and again, to be quite comforting, much like time's constant movement.

However, he would not stand for being told what to do by someone so… diminutive. The whistling that followed once Zexion thought he could order him around was for spite. And as for the needles? Ugh. They would not be spoken of.

He was again contemplating kicking Number Six in the face when someone else decided to "grace" the area. Damn. This meant someone had to clean the flower petals he just knew Marluxia would bring with him.

"You know ants fascinate me, 'Luxia. Always such devoted little workers, persistent and tireless. Makes me want a magnifying glass so I can observe how committed they really are."

"Truthfully such qualities you lack, Luxord. I'm sure you'd have a lot in common with a creature with a mind the size of a speck of pollen."

Oh yes, talking with the other Nobodies was about as entertaining as being eaten alive by a cloud of scarabs, but it was somehow - somehow - more entertaining than walking alone, trying to perhaps find something to do or obliterate to spend a few minutes on.

Besides, it would be amusing if Luxord fell off the booth and landed on his face in grass made of glass shards. And Marluxia surely didn't want to miss such an amazing trick.

For the most part, the lavender-haired Nobody ignored the idle chit-chat of Luxord and Marluxia. Basing an assumption on past experiences, the two wouldn't be talking about anything all that important or interesting anyhow. It was amazing, and a little sad, that a bunch of dumbfounded strangers were more entertaining than his co-workers. Maybe it was just the simple fact that he was seeing new faces, and-- oh!

Another notable one. Zexion narrowed his eyes in scrutiny, watching the newest citizen of Paixao. There was something distinctly captivating about it, and even though he had failed to catch the name, it didn't stop him from whipping out his journal and scribbling down a reminder to look into it later.

Once that task was finished, the device was snapped shut with a sharp click and hidden inside his jacket once more. Mildly satisfied now, he loosely wrapped his arms around his torso, stealing glimpses of the other two out of the corner of his eye while half-listening. Tsk. Sounded like there was going to be an argument soon, too. Nothing new there, but it did get rather tiresome, listening to constant squabbling. Why not take a shot at trying to stamp it out before it got out of control.

"What brings you to this side of Paixao, Marluxia?"

Luxord could sit out of the conversation for now. His mouth was nothing but trouble.

Number Ten rolled his eyes with a resounding "hmph," ignoring the flamboyant man's comment. Marluxia could think what he wished - it only served to help Luxord in the long run if Number Eleven underestimated his intelligence.

Avaricious little shit could never tell his elbow from his ass anyhow.

Summoning a few cards to ease his newfound boredom, Luxord set to work on grouping them in sets of three (despite the fact that he was placing them in midair and people were beginning to stare, he did this anyway). He had a feeling that Zexion would try to derail any arguments, and he was right on that account. Please - what was a sparing match occasionally between two friends? It hadn't even escalated to physical violence yet~

While the idea of flinging the Ace of Spades at Marluxia's "pretty" face, which he had reluctantly flipped over in the third set, was amusing and most likely to be very therapeutic, he would kindly abstain for the moment.

"Looking around." he said simply, effectively assuming that looking around was doing him no good, as the gate seemed as boring as where he had started. Sure, the influx of people coming in was steady, but it was no one worth noticing.

"And checking up on my favorite compatriots." he added, looking about the same as a lion before ripping the flesh from a gazelle.

He wished there were better company somewhere. He sincerely doubted any luck in finding as such.

"I see."

One Neophyte was idly wandering around without a care in the world. Another was sitting on top of a booth, annoying the life out of him and, as he discovered after a quick glance, playing with his cards. Zexion frowned, staring up at the blonde with a reproachful expression, much like a mother who had found their rowdy child doing something they both knew wasn't allowed. Almost mockingly, he crooned, "Put them away, honeybuns." Sometimes he really did feel like a mother... or, rather, a babysitter.

Perhaps he was just being nitpicky now, but he didn't care. Everything about Luxord was beginning to drive him up the wall. The blonde really wasn't in his good graces at the moment, thus, he had to suffer the consequences.

After a moment of thought, the young man regarded Marluxia once more, head canting to the side as he curiously questioned him. "Have you been watching your gate?" Maybe his group had gotten more.. interesting specimens.

Ack! What did he just say?!

Luxord, being completely shocked with incredulousness at what Zexion had called him, almost lost his balance on the booth and completely lost it on the cards, pieces of paper and plastic flittering to the ground silently while Number X stared blankly at the man. The cards vanished into the darkness where they came before actually hitting the cobblestone, gaining more stares from random citizens.

Alright, perhaps he wasn't paying attention to the people around them, but to go the lengths of pet names? Completely revolting!

Zexion was known for finding ways to shut him up, but never… ugh, god. He felt ill at ease.

Honeybuns were meant as a sugary delicacy only, not as a… ugh, nickname for the gambler. He sneered at the shorter man after the initial surprise wore off, eyes narrowing in disgust. "Please abstain from calling me as such again, panda bear. If you wanted me to put them away, you could have asked."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Demon's Party [Active]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject