paixaorpg | Foundation Day Festival: Food Tent

Timon looked at Death in disbelief. Had he honestly never heard the expression before? No, wait. What if it was worse? What if he was unfamiliar with the act itself? Explaining it to Laharl was one thing, but to Death... He wasn't so sure about it. Instead of providing an answer, he simply shook his head with the reply "Never mind, it's not important."

A huff of frustration was given as the redhead began to tap his chin in thought. The demon proved a point, the organization was never willing to give out certain bits of information that may be useful to others. Not unless they themselves had something to gain from it, anyway. He never seemed to get a real word of use from them whenever he made an attempt to 'interrogate' them. They always appeared able to throw a riddle, threat or insult his way to steer him away from the conversation.

"We could try tricking one of them into telling us." he began, wondering if the two before him would have any better luck than himself. "They can't be that smart. We know more about them then they probably want, even they say otherwise. They're probably just lyin', like u-"

Pausing, the meerkats nose twitched numerous times. His eyes widened, recognizing the familiar scent which forced his jaw to fall loose. Turning around to confirm if he was right or not about the being possibly present was something he did not dare do. At least, not quite yet. He could only look between the overlord and Death, wondering if they knew of the girls presence too.

I DISAGREE, Death said flatly to Timon. IF THEY ARE INDEED RUNNING THIS CITY, TO INCLUDE ALL ITS CITIZENS, THE MAYOR, AND WHATEVER IS DRAWING PEOPLE HERE, I WOULD BELIEVE THEY ARE INDEED QUITE INTELLIGENT. THEIR MEMBERS ARE NOT NECESSARILY COHESIVE, HOWEVER - I HAVE SEEN THEM BICKER WITH ONE ANOTHER OVER THE MESSAGE BOARD. He paused, tapping the table thoughtfully. IT IS POSSIBLE THERE ARE ELEMENTS OF DISSENTION.

I DO NOT KNOW IF THEY CAN BE TRICKED, he continued, BUT YOU NEED NOT WORRY ABOUT IT. IF WE ARE ABLE TO FIND AN ORGANIZATION MEMBER, I WILL BE ABLE TO GET THE TRUTH. The statement was calm and matter-of-fact; after all, it was true. If his power of compulsion worked on the dancing white creatures that attacked them in the fields, Death theorized, then it should work on the Organization, as they were theoretically the same type of creature. His control over them was not as complete as it was over living creatures, to be sure, but he was certain it would last long enough for him to get answers. If the right questions are asked, the answers need not be long at all.

Death fell silent, watching Timon's reactions in surprise. He longed to ask what the problem was, but he knew that no matter how quiet he tried to be, his voice would carry. He settled for a look, gaze traveling sharply from Timon to Laharl and back, question evident: what was going on?

While Death and Timon were talking the hair on the back of Laharl's neck had already stood up as a presence he knew all too well hit his senses. It haunted him and gave him nightmares. It was one he never wanted to feel again, but he'd known he would have to eventually, just... not now. His fears of coming to the festival were coming true. She was close, and getting closer.

One of his folded arms shifted up, almost subconciously finding it's way to his shoulder, as the other released, hiding below the table ready. He was ready to summon his power, what little he'd recovered, if he had to.

Laharl's gaze glanced to Death, who seemed clueless and Timon who... knew. Timon knew. Laharl's gaze was not quite frightened, but on edge... nervous. He didn't say anything to Timon, there wasn't anything to say, but to Death's questioning gaze, the Overlord mouthed, 'Larxene...'

Did she know they were there? She must know. How could she not? Hell, he wasn't ready for this. He wasn't ready to face her. Not now! Just... not NOW! Where was Flonne and Etna? Damnit... damnit...

She could notice the change in mood almost immediately. Well, there was no point in hiding anymore, now was there? Oh but that didn't stop her from wearing her proudest smirk, with the pose of her halo being held up by her horns, that false innocence and helplessness that she was so good at affecting.

She stepped further into the tent, voice saccharine sweet when she deigned to actually finally announce her presence. "Awww, why so quiet now that I'm here, hmm? Laharl, Timon?"

There was no mistaking how upset Laharl still was. She could see the terror in his shoulders, and it made her giggle. She brushed her hair over her shoulders, and folded her arms across her chest. She took another step closer, this time directly behind Laharl.

Regardless of Laharl not actually speaking the name, it still sent a chill down his spine. He could only hope his nose was playing some evil trick on him, that the girl was not there and all was still well. Or at least as well as it had been before Larxene was in the picture. However, such hopes were easily crushed when a matching voice rose.

Oh, she sure was happy to see them, wasn't she? The delight in her voice was impossible to ignore. If he weren't so frightened he surely would have shivered a second time, especially when hearing his name spoken. Though her interest seemed to focus on the demon, slightly setting him at ease. If he ran away now, grabbing Pumbaa on the way with him, he'd be Scott Free. But, on the other hand, he wasn't to sure if he legs could move even an inch back, never mind all the way out of the festival.

So instead, Timon could only stand stiffly in place, straight as board while watching the Nobody. Not a sound escaped him. His teeth did not dare even chatter our of fear. He silently begged for Larxene to leave repeatedly in his head. Surely there was something Death or Laharl could do... Right?

Larxene. On its own, the name meant nothing to Death. Numerous posts about the Organization on the message board, however, and horror stories told on personal journals had given him the story. Larxene was a member of the Organization, and a dangerous one at that.

But there was no need to make it evident he had this knowledge. He stood at her approach, ready to summon his scythe at less than a moment's notice if need be. He did not appreciate having his meeting interrupted, let alone by somebody who terrified his companions into silence. He could near taste the threat of violence hanging in the air.

Unacceptable.

But again, no need to act upon it just yet. When the time came to act, he and the intruder would both know. For now, he reamined neutral, at least in action. GOOD AFTERNOON, he greeted her. I DO NOT BELIEVE WE HAVE MET.

She was right behind him now, a place he'd really rather she wouldn't be. Laharl remembered all too well what happened the last time she'd been behind him. He sat there stiffy, willing himself to turn his head. It took several moments, but finally he managed to get ahold of himself to steel his expression, as his gaze slowly peeked over his shoulder up at her, crimson eyes full of hate.

"What the hell do you want, Larxene?" the demon boy uttered, his dislike of the Organization member more than just slightly apparent in his voice. Was she here for him? To take him away again? Then again, surely if she had she'd have chosen a better way to do it, not to mention it sounded like the others they'd captured were all freed. Maybe she was just here to torment him more. That seemed pretty likely above all else.

Larxene ignored Death in favor of focusing on Laharl, and giving a glance towards Timon every now and again. Oh, he was just terrified of her, and still weak besides, while she hadn't felt better in a while. Clearly the advantage was on her side, if not for the walking, talking skeleton.

"I'm just here to enjoy the festival," Larxene replied innocently and sweetly enough. She almost might have seemed sincere, if she weren't Larxene, and if her past history with Laharl weren't what it was.

Lightly then, crackles emitted from her fingertips, and she giggled. "Oh, and I've been so anxious these past few days... I just couldn't stay cooped up forever, you know!" And her hand moved dangerously close to Laharl's head, as though she intended to brush his hair out of the way, mocking him.

"Mmm... How are you, Timon?" she asked, without looking up.

If it were with anyone else, Timon would have groaned at Death's greeting through a mix of both irritation and embarrassment. But this was Larxene before them, even with such a ridiculous getup on. And he would continue to watch her just as carefully as everyone else present. There was no telling what her next move would be, never mind her motives. Though already he had a pretty good idea what she was up to. At least, he hoped he did.

His eyes widened further when hearing the threatening crackle from the blonde's hands, heartbeat increasing with every little movement she made. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize how dangerous the situation could get, not with Larxene there. He could feel himself begin to shake as he attempted to step back. His legs, unfortunately, still prevented him from moving.

There was much he'd of loved to say to her. So many smart remarks, a few nasty ones, and of course, threats regarding what he would do to her if she dared refuse to leave them alone. The meerkat did not reply though. He couldn't. The words were caught in his throat, forcing him to continue to stand there like a useless object.

So on top of the fact that Larxene terrified his companions and disrupted his meeting, she also seemed to have no manners. Death did not appreciate being blatantly ignored. It seemed his near-limitless supply of patience was running short today.

I DOUBT YOUR INTENTIONS, he intoned solemnly, moving around the table to stand next to Larxene, gazing down at her, blue fire in his eyes crackling angrily. He would not put up with this. I WOULD ASK YOU TO LEAVE. It wasn't a question. IMMEDIATELY.

The fact that not even Timon could seem to find his voice, made Laharl even more nervous somehow. The meerkat almost never missed a chance to speak but he was stunned into an unusual silence.

Larxene's words made Laharl's expression turn even more annoyed. Unlike Timon, the Overlord hadn't lost his nerve quite enough not to speak up.

"Yeah right," he muttered in reply to her being here for the festival comment. He did't believe a single word of that for a second. Even if for a moment during her time here that had been her intention, the second she'd seen him here, he was sure she would have had a change of plans.

As Death came up to her asking her to leave, Laharl ducked his head away as he heard crackling of electricity far too close to his ears. He knew what that sound was, and it was something he had no desire to experience again. The demon started to make motion to leap from his chair to escape her shocking touch.

It was only a playful strike! Why did they all seem opposed to her fun, hm? She wondered this with the beginnings of a smirk, knowing she was mean enough to strike the overlord while he was down. And Death just wasn't enough of a deterrent, not yet.

So, what started out as a small crackle that could have been passed off as excess lightning on her person, grew into a full thunderbolt, striking the fleeing overlord in the back. And all Larxene did was giggle at him. "It's so rude to try and run away from a conversation!"

Her gaze turned to Timon, then, regarding him, wondering how much fun it would be to give him just a teensy-weensy little shock... Surely, Laharl shouldn't usurp all of her attentions, the selfish overlord! But, Timon was smart enough to still act terrified.

A kunai appeared in her hand, and she toyed with it, a malicious glint in her eyes and smile as she regarded the small, furry creature. "I'm afraid it's an open festival and I~ don't want to leave."

Deaths order was chilling enough to hear, never mind the consequence if it were to be ignored. But some how the meerkat just knew Larxene would fail to follow through and share some form of excuse to stay. It was just like her, even if she were weak. Though in this case, she seemed to be doing surprisingly well. How unfortunate...

Swallowing the forming lump in his throat, he continued to look up at the conversation between the Nobody and Death. From the corner of his eye he could spot the Overlord slipping away. For a moment there was relief... And then fright.

"Laharl!" Timon cried out, finding his voice again when the bolt of lightening struck the boys back. His head snapped back in the organization members direction, a look of terror still painted upon his features none the less as his eyes met hers. Once she looked away, however, a growl began to escape his throat. He bared his teeth at her, his long, sharp nails out while the meerkat watched her. The kunai in her hand was noted, but once he found himself running straight for her, it no longer seemed to matter.

Very few people had seen Death well and truly angry. Fewer lived to tell the tale. Luckily, where patience ran out self-control stepped in. Moving swiftly, he threw a hand in front of Timon, intending to stop a journey that, if not suicidal, would at the least be very painful.

That taken care of, his attention turned to Larxene, scythe already in his other hand, blue blade humming menacingly. YOU, he rumbled furiously in a voice that expected obedience and nothing else, ARE NOT WELCOME HERE. He pointed the head of the scythe to Larxene's chest as though pronouncing a punishment. YOU WILL LEAVE. NOW.

There was nothing he could do for Laharl. Hopefully the young Overlord would be able to help himself.

He just hadn't dodged aside fast enough, his destination having been only to get to the other side of the table, but the jolt hit him, stopping him in his tracks.

The demon cried out loudly, eyes lighting up and his scarf shifting wildly in reacting as he was shocked. He stood in place a moment before plummeting to his knees, gasping in pain. Trembling where he knelt he heard Timon cry out and Death move in to put a stop to things, but he couldn't yet summon the strength to rise. Laharl knew he had a ways to recover, but he hadn't been as well off as he'd thought; it had been way too soon for his body to take another attack like that.

Still, he managed to lift his head, firey eyes glaring up at her as he panted and grimaced in pain. "D-damn you..." he hissed, as he clutched one arm around himself and the other a tight, shaking fist, but he made no moves yet. He had to calm down and recover fast because he needed to summon his power and he needed it now.

Flonne couldn't remember a time when she'd covered ground at such a speed. The short sprint from the grounds to the tent felt like an eternity, as worry and abject fear are wont to extend time beyond its normal limits.

Unfortunately for Flonne, her worst expectations were not to be disappointed. She'd heard lightening and screams, and what she saw were panicking blond people and - oh no she'd been too late - Laharl on the ground, hurt. "Laharl-san!" she cried, running towards him and dropping to her knees beside him. "Laharl-san, are you alright? Laharl-san!" Now was a terrible time to be without enough magic to cast a strong healing spell, which was the spot Flonne found herself in. He'd been hurt, and she couldn't help...

But this didn't just happen. Somebody hurt him. Somebody had done this to Laharl. Death and Timon were both angry at that blonde woman...she seemed happy about something, and she had a knife...Laharl had mentioned a Larxene...that was it. That had to be it.

And with that, all of Flonne's emotions simply boiled over. She was tired and worried about Laharl and frustrated and scared and she just didn't know what to do anymore and she hated it! Rightly or wrongly, all that emotional turmoil came out directed at the woman with the knife. "Stop it!" she screamed, leaping to her feet and calling her own staff to her hand almost by frustrated accident. "Stop hurting Laharl-san! Why can't you just leave us alone?"

Larxene dodged Timon easily enough, once he had lunged for her. And as soon as he landed on the floor, she kicked him aside, hard. Honestly, did he never learn? Just fell right into an obvious trap. Death, on the other hand, Larxene couldn't treat as flippantly.

She took a step back, almost turning to leave, but Flonne's arrival snapped Larxene's attention back to where it needed to be. She smirked and giggled. Oh, how clever, Death! And to think she almost hadn't even noticed it! She turned to Flonne, and her lightning ricocheted towards the blond.

This time growing in power. Unlike Laharl, Larxene had never felt better, and shocking Flonne was like mere child's play. The kunai twisted in her hand, and she looked at them all, as if daring them to argue with her as she stepped closer to Flonne. "Oh, dear. You thought that hurt~?" She asked sweetly.

Timon had forgotten of the outcome of his actions, something many would consider normal. Though, there was one: the satisfaction of teaching Larxene to never lay a hand, never mind strike, his friend down again. However, the chances of that happening lacked greater than the meerkats height.

It wasn't until he found Deaths bony hand before him he realized just what he was doing, snapping out of state a anger that had taken him over. He found himself caught helpless in the air, wishing he had come forth sooner as he watched the blonde's foot race toward him. A sharp yelp escaped the rodent as he was sent flying back, his small, frail body similar to an old rag dolls when coming in contact with one of the table legs. It twisted around the table limb, then fell to the ground in a tangled pile.

A groan was given as Timon wrapped his arms around his stomach, slowly curling up while watching the fight continue on. Things appeared to only be getting worse, what with Flonne appearing. He would hate to see harm fall upon the girl, and with the way things were going, there was the chance that he would have to.

He prayed for Death to act, make up for the lack of help he could be himself to his newly acquainted friends in their time of need. "Do something!" he croaked, hoping to get the bag of bones to... Well, do something!

This was not supposed to happen. While Death's power of compulsion evidently did work, it didn't seem to last for very long. Using it again to get rid of Larxene wouldn't work - she was expecting it now.

He saw the lightening spark and hit Flonne with dismay that quickly turned to anger. This would not happen. Not in front of him.

Timon's plea was unneeded, as Death was already moving to attack. Swiftly reversing his grip on his scythe, he swung the butt hard at Larxene. There was no way he could use the blade right now: in such a crowded place, he may inadvertantly kill somebody were the blade to be employed.

He cringed in pain, but was distracted when he heard a familiar voice ring out, "F-Flonne...?"

Then she was beside him, asking if he was alright. He nodded slowly, "Y...yeah I..." but didn't get any further, before his vassal was jumping away from him. What the? No!

"W-wait... Flonne!" he called out to her, as she moved away from him towards Larxene. Oh hell, no! Move... MOVE... he tried to command himself, as he tried to get to his feet, and get his shocked body to listen.

The familiar sound of a cracking spark, made him snap his head out as he saw it hit Flonne. "NO!" He needed to move, and he needed to now.

Everything was happening so fast! He just had to get to his feet... to Flonne. Slowly he found he was beginning to move, but he feared he'd be too late, as Larxene was approaching her.

Flonne's eyes widened in sudden shock at the lightening suddenly coming towards her, and she jumped backwards.

Not fast enough, unfortunately.

The tail end of the thunderbolt hit her, and that was enough for the full voltage of the attack to slam through her body. Her world went white.

She didn't realize she was on the ground until she opened her eyes several seconds - was that all it had been? - later. She didn't realize she was still in pain until she noticed, almost detachedly, that every nerve ending felt as though it were aflame. Any more and she'd white out again. She didn't realize she'd been screaming until the rawness of her own throat registered and her own cries echoed back into her ears.

She was hurt. She couldn't think straight enough to do anything about it, never mind her lack of magic.

And now Larxene was coming her way, and she was in too much shock and pain to even move.

Larxene lifted the girl by her arm as soon as she reached her, the kunai twirling in her hand with careless grace and ease. Larxene was far too familiar with her weapon of choice, and far too unconcerned with the actions of those around her.

When Death had attempted to her her, she dodged with uncanny ease, a testament to just how fast she truly was. None of them stood a chance against her at the moment. Especially not Laharl, for all his haughtiness before their first encounter.

She looked down at Flonne, and stopped twirling her kunai. "Oh, but aren't you adorable~!" she said sweetly. "And loud." The last part said in a not so sweet voice, as blade met the flesh of Flonne's arm. "But I like loud," she said, glancing at Laharl out of the corner of her eyes.

She drew the blade down slowly, ignoring the red stain of blood on her hands.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up!" he ordered himself, pinching his cheek, an arm still wrapped around his stomach. Regardless how many times he attempted to escape the horrid reality he was trapped in, it never worked. What he was witnessing was really happening, even if he tried to deny it.

Laharl was hurt, now practically being tortured by watching Flonne face such horrid treatment. And Larxene, she was there, responsible for all this. Death, despite his efforts didn't appear to have as much control of the situation as hoped. As for himself... He was utterly useless.

Pulling himself unsteadily to his feet, he knew there was nothing he could do. He had only been kicked, nothing compared to the others. Yet it was enough to greatly injure him, due to his small size. His arms wrapped themselves tighter around his thin frame as he watched.

He'd of loved to jump in. Even now, the image of running in and bitting Larxene was worth a million grubs. He had it all planned out: he would run in, distract the organization member leaving an open spot for Death to strike. He would knock her out and the day would be saved.

Of course, as great of a plan that was to Timon, the success rate was low. He was better off sticking to his original plan: running away. It was shameful and selfish to simply leave his friends, but it felt like the only solution other than to stand there and watch them fall one by one.

Larxene still none the less frightened him, even if his other plan of action could happen, he was to cowardly to attempt anything except run away.

What was this? Had Death not just sworn that this sort of thing would not happen in front of him? And yet, somehow, it was...

No. No, no, NO.

He covered the ground between himself and Larxene in two quick, furious strides, once again swinging the blunt end of the scythe. He could definitely not afford to use the blade now, not with Flonne so close.

But Larxene was fast, he now knew. Almost too fast. Even as he swing the first time, he prepared for a dodge and a second strike. He was determined she would not get away this time.

Timon was right, it was practically torture to hear Flonne's pain filled cries. They stabbed somewhere deep inside him and it hurt. She was in pain! And here he was struggling just to get to his feet!

Even worse when he paused a moment in almost horror as Larxene grabbed her and cut into Flonne's arm. Just... like she'd done to him.

Laharl's gaze met Larxene's for the briefest second. She was doing this on purpose, wasn't she? It wasn't about Flonne, she was doing it all just to get at him! Just to torture him more! And Flonne... Flonne had been dragged in. Damnit, he never should have come to the fair. He should have stayed at the hotel and made Flonne stay with him, but... would they have been safe even there?

He didn't think on it more as Flonne's screams snapped him from his momentary daze. MOVE! He shouted at himself and finally he'd found the energy to rise fully and dash forward.

"STOP! STOP, DAMNIT!" Laharl yelled, in anger and desperation gathering what power he could muster ready to make an attempt at an attack himself. He had to get Flonne away from her!

Foundation Day Festival: Food Tent

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