[KH2] - Acts of Violence (Xigbar/Xaldin)
“You must agree Mr. Almasy, that of all possible outcomes, this one seems like the best possible one. Yes?”
“Which outcome is that?”
Six men stood in the room, seven counting the one who had been addressed and had answered so defiantly. They stood still aside from the occasional shifting of weight from one foot to another, tossing of hair. One of them lifted a cigarette to his lips every few moments and exhaled nicotine-flavored atmosphere into the room. The fact that Seifer Almasy managed to retain a brave front in the face of these men was admirable, but not altogether intelligent.
The one who had asked the question regarded Seifer Almasy seriously. His eyes glinted the same blue as a razor blade. Cords of black hair fell to his hips and writhed with his slightest motion, but he took no notice of them.
“The one where you’re able to leave without the aid of a stretcher. Or a bucket.”
The threat would have been laughable had Seifer Almasy not been painfully aware that the man standing in front of him had every intention and capacity to carry it out.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think we’ve reached a good understanding.” Seifer Almasy chanced a glance past the dreadlocked man. In a chair upon an elevated dais was the real threat - a man cloaked all in crimson. He watched the proceedings with an appraising and apathetic eye.
“I hope so, Mr. Gabbani. I’d hate to be forced to renegotiate the terms.”
“Yeah.” Seifer inclined his head. “If that’s all…” It was impossible to ignore how he fought to keep sarcasm out of his voice.
But the man in crimson said nothing and so the interviewer gave Seifer Almasy a curt nod and watched as he walked out the door.
“Do you think he’ll keep up his end of the deal?” One of the men in white regarded the doorway with thoughtful orange eyes.
“Who cares? I say we just go ahead and kill the guy.” The smoker shook another cigarette out of a pack into his hand and lit it with the butt of the old one. He threw the spent butt onto the floor and ground it under his shoe.
“This situation calls for prudence, not impatience.” The crimson-clad man rose and the others shifted, ready to follow their boss wherever he decided to go. He walked over to the man with the dreadlocks. “Xaldin, that was well-handled. I want this Seifer and his partners to be your personal project from now on. We need to know if he can be trusted. Find out for us.”
“Yes, boss DiZ.” Xaldin nodded. It was very significant to have the boss give a compliment like that. “If he betrays us, he won’t live long to regret it.”
“I’m sure he won’t.” DiZ glanced to the man with the orange eyes. “Xemnas, you and I have business attend to downtown. As for the rest of you,” he glanced at the other three men in the room. “I believe you have your own mission to deal with.”
The man with the cigarette blew smoke out of the corner of his mouth.
“Yeah, Saix’n’ I will go check up on the businesses. It’s time to collect anyways.” He glanced over at a skinny young man who was amusing himself with a cell phone in the corner. “Do we have to take Demyx? It’s always such a pain in the ass.”
“Axel, you’ll take Demyx anywhere I tell you to, even if it’s to your own funeral.” There was a trace of amusement in DiZ’s voice, but his meaning was deadly serious. “Is that clear?”
“Like glass.” Axel sucked on the cigarette agitatedly and started walking towards the door. “All right, if we’re gonna go, let’s go. C’mon.”
Saix moved to follow Axel out the door. He had not spoken during the duration of the interview, but now he walked over to Demyx and touched his shoulder.
“We’re leaving. Come on.”
“Oh sorry!” Demyx jumped up and put his phone in his pockets. Unlike the others who were all clad in white suits (or in DiZ’s case, crimson robes), he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt like any normal street punk. He looked up at Saix, not paying attention to any of the other intimidating men in the room. “Hey, what happened to that guy? ‘d we kill him?”
“No, not yet. We’re giving him a chance to keep his word.” Saix led Demyx to where Axel was waiting impatiently at the door.
Demyx blinked. “Why are we doing that?”
“Finally, the kid and I agree on something.” Axel muttered. It was a bad idea to voice his opinion too loudly with Xemnas and DiZ still in the room. Demyx could get away with it, but that’s because he didn’t know any better. Axel would lose a finger for such defiance.
Once, Saix, Axel and Demyx had left, Xaldin turned again to his boss and tilted his head slightly to the side.
“You want me to take care of Seifer along with the other project I’m working on?”
“You can handle it,” DiZ answered. “If you need help, get the other three to assist you.”
“Zexion and the others aren’t making themselves easy to keep an eye on, sir. But I’ll do my best.” Xaldin took his leave and walked out of the room.
~
There were two main yakuza groups in Radiant Garden. The older organization, referred to as the Ansem family, had been established since time immemorial and was currently headed by the man known as DiZ. It was said that the leadership of the Ansem family had waned and become weak in recent years until he had come along. With an iron fist and razor wits, he had taken the organization and re-forged it into a force to be reckoned with once again.
But even within DiZ’s absolute rule, all had not been harmonious. His closest subordinate and protégé, a stoic young prodigy named Zexion, led a coup and separated from the main family to form his own organization known as The Order. He and his new family had risen quickly among the ranks of the gangs of Radiant Garden until they were powerful enough to rival even the Ansem group. Through murder, blackmail, prostitution, money laundering, gambling and a score of other illegal activities, the two organizations between them controlled almost all of Radiant Garden.
It was Xaldin’s job to monitor this renegade family, as per DiZ’s request. Most of them had been notorious within underground circles even before joining The Order and so Xaldin had fairly detailed dossiers on the majority of them. But the difficult part was tracking their current movements. But DiZ trusted Xaldin and Xaldin had never failed him before.
However, that didn’t stop Xaldin from being even more stoic and grim than usual as he carried his briefcase into Seventh Heaven.
The bar had once been nothing but a seedy little dive that the gangs of the city had used as both headquarters and recreation spot for years. But as the gangs of Radiant Garden had grown and matured, so had Seventh Heaven. The uneven wooden floor and creaky barstools had vanished and been replaced by glossy, polished wood and red velvet. It played to a richer crowd now, a crowd that was more than pleased to take advantage of Seventh Heaven’s policy of strict anonymity for its patrons.
But one thing about Seventh Heaven hadn’t changed. Tifa, the longtime owner and sole employee stood behind the bar and watched with arms akimbo as Xaldin took his customary seat at the end of the bar.
“Long time no see, sugar.” Tifa leaned on the bar and smiled at him. “What’s with the briefcase? This ain’t an office.”
“More business gets conducted here than at any office in the city. You know that.” Xaldin sat back on his barstool and almost smiled. He had always enjoyed Tifa’s company. He admired her dry wit and the fact that she never appeared to be intimidated, not even in the face of the most dangerous and deadly men in the world. Including Xaldin himself.
Tifa grinned. “I can’t say that the notion doesn’t please me, but ‘m just a simple girl with a simple bar. Here ya go, sugar.” She handed him a glass of red wine. “I saved a bottle of that stuff you like, just for you.”
“You’re too good to me.” Xaldin accepted the wine gratefully and took a sip. “The bar seems empty today.”
“Everyone’s saving up their energy for tonight. Lar’s opening the place up, you know.” Tifa’s eyes sparkled at Xaldin. “I’m surprised you didn’t already know that.”
“I’ve been distracted and I didn’t realize.” Xaldin drummed his fingers against the bar. “I’ll have to come by.”
“Mmhmm. Everyone’d be horribly disappointed if you didn’t show up. You’re the crowd favorite.”
“Hm.” Xaldin almost smiled. “Tell your partner I’ll come.” He paused for a moment. “Tifa, I respect your policy of neutrality…”
“Then don’t ask questions you know I can’t answer.”
“You know I can pay.”
“Look around, sugar.” Tifa gestured grandiosely. “Do I look like I need the money?”
Xaldin acquiesced with a nod and another sip of wine. Tifa was adamant about her policy of non-involvement and neutrality and would never divulge anything about her other patrons, no matter what was offered to her. All of them had tried at one point or another, but the truth was that they all appreciated it so much that they supplied her with more than ample funds to keep the bar running and well-stocked.
“I’m looking for information on The Order. They have new members and information is scarce.”
Tifa just watched him for a very long few moments before smiling.
“Just come tonight. You won’t be disappointed.”
~
“If you don’t stop cheating, I’ll put a bullet in your damn jaw.”
Setzer Gabbiani couldn’t help but smirk into his cards. Half the fun of playing cards with Luxord was how much cheating annoyed him. Naturally, Setzer cheated at every available opportunity just so he could see how much he could ruffle Luxord’s feathers.
“You need to get more fun out of the game. Can’t blame a gambler for wanting to improve his odds.” Setzer tossed his fake ace onto the table and drew a real card from the stack.
Luxord looked sternly across the table at Setzer, stroking his goatee with a thumb and forefinger as he did so,
“That’s defeating the very purpose of the game.”
The table at which the two men were playing cards had at one point been a beautiful piece of furniture, hand-carved from fine woods and carefully finished to perfectly display its natural luster. However, the years had been less than kind to it and it was now a sign of faded elegance, a perfect allegory for the room itself. When the building had been constructed twenty years ago, it had been considered the height of fashion. However, the old-world splendor had been stripped away over twenty years and now all that remained was a ghost of elegance.
Most of the members of The Order would have preferred a more modern locale for their headquarters, but Zexion admired anything old-fashioned and Marluxia liked anything elegant. Marluxia and Zexion being the heads of the family, their opinion was the only one that really counted.
“Is it? Perhaps I was under the wrong impression, but I always thought that the purpose of the game was to win.” Setzer rearranged his hand of cards, careful to keep his smirking to a minimum.
With one brow arched, Luxord placed two cards face-down on the table and picked up two more from the deck. It would be very easy to get angry at Setzer for his careless and faulty logic, but Luxord was well aware that one of Setzer’s chief pleasures in life was to bait him while playing cards.
“It’s a game of chance, you know. Skill can help you succeed to a point, but in the end it comes down to nothing more or less than dumb luck. Or fate. Same thing, really,” said Luxord.
Setzer tossed his hair. “But that’s where you’re wrong. A gambler’s role is to make his own fate. To take fate literally-” he held up his cards “-Into his own hands.”
“You have completely missed the point of this. A gambler’s role is to surrender to fate.”
“You’ll have to forgive me, but I find your notion to be an utter crock of shit.” Setzer smiled broadly at Luxord.
The other man returned the smile, stroking his goatee as he did so,
“No need to get upset over a trivial game.”
“Says the man who threatened to put a bullet in my jaw not five minutes ago.”
“You were cheating. Besides, time change. Stop living in the past, Setzer.”
“Indeed,” Setzer leaned back in his chair to show that he wasn’t riled up at all. It was a lie and both men were well aware of it, but appearances were half the game. “Shall we?”
“Oh yes.”
The next few minutes involved quite a bit of shouting and accusations, all of which were centered around the fact that both men had played the exact same hand. It was on the verge of becoming a brawl when a skinny, dark-haired teenage girl practically skipped into the room.
“Hi boys. How’s the card game going?” She asked cheerfully.
Both Setzer and Luxord turned and eyed her and took their seats again practically in unison.
“Hello Yuffie,” Setzer said wryly. “Having a nice day?”
“I’d hate to think that you had any part of our unfortunate little game, Yuffie dear,” Luxord drummed his fingers on the table.
“What? Me? I had nothing to do with fixing your game.” Yuffie clasped her hands behind her back and looked up at the ceiling. “I wouldn’t dream of messing with your deck. That wouldn’t be a very nice thing to do.”
Setzer laughed outright and even Luxord had to smile. Yuffie may be an annoying little wench, but damned if she didn’t have the personality to make you forget about it.
“What are you doing here, girlie? It’s still early for you to show up.” Luxord leaned back in his chair and began to gather up the cards that had been scattered in the almost-scuffle.
“Just makin’ my usual report to the bosses. I’m doing it early ‘cause I’ve gotta date tonight that I don’t wanna skip out on. He’s fuckin’ scrumptious.” Yuffie licked her lips.
“Our little Yuffie is turning into quite the painted harlot,” Lurxord remarked dryly.
Setzer raised a brow at him. “You’re just jealous because you haven’t gotten laid in two weeks.”
Luxord gave Setzer a pointed look as Yuffie snickered in the background.
“I haven’t gotten laid because I haven’t tried, I’ll have you know. I’m holding out for someone special.”
“Lux, dude, you’ve gotta give up on Tifa. She’s never gonna go out with you. You could make yourself into a freakin’ monk waitin’ on her.” Yuffie put her hands on her hips.
“Tifa and I share a very intimate relationship,” Luxord insisted. “Just because we haven’t slept together yet doesn’t mean anything. It takes time.”
“Your dick’s gonna stop workin’ if you ignore your urges like that,” Yuffie told him. Setzer didn’t say anything, although he was inclined to agree with Yuffie on this one.
“I assure you that what you know about me and my “dick” wouldn’t fill half a post-it note,” Luxord told her icily.
“Why? Is it really, really small?”
“The post-it note?”
Yuffie grinned and cocked her head to one side. “No, silly. Your-”
“My friend, I will give you two very good reasons why Tifa will never go out with you.” Setzer decided that cutting Yuffie off at that particular moment was the most prudent of decisions. “Number one - she’s a dyke. Number two - you’re trying far too hard. But mostly number one.”
Luxord bristled. “Just because you have no discerning taste in women, Setzer, doesn’t give you leave to criticize mine.”
“On the contrary,” the other man shook his head. “I find Tifa to be a very attractive woman. She’s just not my type. I prefer women who aren’t able to break my jaw.”
“You’re only saying that because you get slapped all the time for having ten girlfriends at a time,” said Luxord.
“Yes and that can hurt quite enough if they slap in the right places. Hence I have no desire to be with a woman who could potentially knock out my teeth.”
“Am I the only one who thinks it’d be funny as hell to see Setzer with his teeth all knocked out like a blitzball player?” Yuffie chimed in.
The three of them were silenced by the sound of a door opening somewhere in the upper stories of the house. They listened to the sounds of someone walking down a long hall and then quickly descend down a flight of stairs. And then, from a different part of the house, another door opening and closing. And then nothing at all.
“Xigbar.” It was Setzer who finally spoke. “He always goes out through the back door.” He paused briefly. “I know he’s not technically our boss, but he scares me more than Zexion and Marluxia put together.”
“He’s supposed to, I think.” Luxord nibbled on the corner of a card thoughtfully. “He’s not like the bosses… he’s an executioner.”
“He’s fuckin’ scary.” Yuffie shook her head after a moment, as if to clear it. “Anyways, I’m going up to meet with the bosses. Are you boys gonna play nice without me down here to chaperone?”
“Don’t you mean referee?” Asked Setzer.
“Same thing.” The girl dusted herself off and traipsed up the stairs, once again leaving the two gamblers alone to their cards.
With deft fingers, Setzer took up the deck and began to shuffle it, more to have something to do than anything else.
“What do you think of Xigbar? The two of you have always seemed to be on somewhat decent terms,” asked Setzer of his friend.
“Xigbar is nothing if not complex.” Luxord played with one of his earrings thoughtfully. “And that’s putting it lightly.”
“He’s complex like a one-way street, perhaps. The man’s a monster and that’s really all there is to it.”
“I’d be more careful with your words if I were you. Even Xigbar can get offended. Or you could just catch him in a bad mood. Either way, you would be in worlds of trouble if he decided that he didn’t like what you were saying.”
Setzer began to deal the cards out, so preoccupied by Luxord’s words that he wasn’t even sure what game he was dealing until Luxord cleared his throat and he realized that he was looking at one of the worst poker hands in his life.
“If it’s not one thing it’s always another…”
~
Like Seventh Heaven, Seventh Hell was a place that catered to an alternate sort of clientele. Other clubs did the same thing, of course, but none of them had the sort of reputation that Seventh Hell had garnered for itself since it had opened. Nobody could just walk into Seventh Hell - the establishment was by-invitation only. And it wasn’t just for the super-rich or those with black market connections. Rich, poor, sane, mad, sadist, masochist… all were welcome, as long as they followed the club’s simple rules.
The mark of membership was a ring with a single ruby the color of blood set deep within the recesses of the gold, so deep that it appeared to be nothing more than a glint of red. Xaldin twisted this ring about his finger as he walked past Seventh Heaven, opened a rusty and grimy door and began to walk up a filthy concrete stairwell. The lone bulb above flickered and blinked sporadically, much to the dismay of the bevy of moths that fluttered around it.
The door at the top of the stairs was just as rusted as the one he had just passed through. Someone had taken it upon themselves to scrawl ABANDON ALL HOPE, YE WHO ENTER HERE across the door in bright red graffiti. The sight of it never failed to amuse Xaldin. After all, Larxene was well-known for her taste for the dramatic.
Xaldin deftly entered a series of numbers into the keypad mounted in the wall beside the door. He waited a few seconds, then stepped forward as the door opened into a large and extravagantly-decorated room.
From the lush red carpets and velvet drapes to the exquisite furniture and priceless art, the entire room screamed opulence. Fires burned in golden brackets on the wall and cast flickering light over all manner of toys hanging there. Whips, chains, collars, crops, blindfolds, feathers, gags and other such accouterments, all perfectly organized and displayed for anyone to use. A number of sculptures (a great many of them depicting graphic sexual acts) adorned the room along with comfortable furniture and painful-looking racks. Decadent little treats like chocolates were set out on silver trays for general consumption.
“You’re late.”
Xaldin had been removing his coat and placing it upon one of the hooks in the wall when he was addressed. He turned and found himself looking at the proprietor of Seventh Hell, a rather petite blonde woman wearing an exceptionally tailored black and red men’s suit. She held a glass of red wine in one hand and a thin black cigar in another and sampled both liberally as she smirked up at Xaldin.
“I am not late. I arrived exactly on time,” he told her.
“Mmhmm. I suppose I’m used to you arriving early then. We were all afraid you weren’t going to make it at all.”
There were a few people already there, all of whom Xaldin recognized. It was an elite club, Seventh Hell. Members retained their membership for life and so the majority of the faces were constant. However, there was one whom Xaldin found that he was not familiar with. There was a man sitting at the bar on the far side of the room that Xaldin was fairly sure he had not seen before. It was difficult to be positive since the man had his back turned, but Xaldin would have remembered someone with so many grey streaks in his hair.
“I never miss an event. You know that.”
“Yeah, I know. You know I’d come and track your ass down if you did. You’re too much fun to have around. Even Tifa agrees.” Larxene gestured to the bar. Tifa stood behind it, just as she did at her own establishment, although now she was wearing a red corset that magnificently displayed her ample chest. The bartender waved at Xaldin, then returned to speaking to the man sitting at the bar.
“Anyhow, come over here.” Larxene placed her wine glass down on a table and took Xaldin’s arm as though he were a woman. “I want to meet Xigbar. He’s our newest member.”
~
To Be Continued...
“Which outcome is that?”
Six men stood in the room, seven counting the one who had been addressed and had answered so defiantly. They stood still aside from the occasional shifting of weight from one foot to another, tossing of hair. One of them lifted a cigarette to his lips every few moments and exhaled nicotine-flavored atmosphere into the room. The fact that Seifer Almasy managed to retain a brave front in the face of these men was admirable, but not altogether intelligent.
The one who had asked the question regarded Seifer Almasy seriously. His eyes glinted the same blue as a razor blade. Cords of black hair fell to his hips and writhed with his slightest motion, but he took no notice of them.
“The one where you’re able to leave without the aid of a stretcher. Or a bucket.”
The threat would have been laughable had Seifer Almasy not been painfully aware that the man standing in front of him had every intention and capacity to carry it out.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think we’ve reached a good understanding.” Seifer Almasy chanced a glance past the dreadlocked man. In a chair upon an elevated dais was the real threat - a man cloaked all in crimson. He watched the proceedings with an appraising and apathetic eye.
“I hope so, Mr. Gabbani. I’d hate to be forced to renegotiate the terms.”
“Yeah.” Seifer inclined his head. “If that’s all…” It was impossible to ignore how he fought to keep sarcasm out of his voice.
But the man in crimson said nothing and so the interviewer gave Seifer Almasy a curt nod and watched as he walked out the door.
“Do you think he’ll keep up his end of the deal?” One of the men in white regarded the doorway with thoughtful orange eyes.
“Who cares? I say we just go ahead and kill the guy.” The smoker shook another cigarette out of a pack into his hand and lit it with the butt of the old one. He threw the spent butt onto the floor and ground it under his shoe.
“This situation calls for prudence, not impatience.” The crimson-clad man rose and the others shifted, ready to follow their boss wherever he decided to go. He walked over to the man with the dreadlocks. “Xaldin, that was well-handled. I want this Seifer and his partners to be your personal project from now on. We need to know if he can be trusted. Find out for us.”
“Yes, boss DiZ.” Xaldin nodded. It was very significant to have the boss give a compliment like that. “If he betrays us, he won’t live long to regret it.”
“I’m sure he won’t.” DiZ glanced to the man with the orange eyes. “Xemnas, you and I have business attend to downtown. As for the rest of you,” he glanced at the other three men in the room. “I believe you have your own mission to deal with.”
The man with the cigarette blew smoke out of the corner of his mouth.
“Yeah, Saix’n’ I will go check up on the businesses. It’s time to collect anyways.” He glanced over at a skinny young man who was amusing himself with a cell phone in the corner. “Do we have to take Demyx? It’s always such a pain in the ass.”
“Axel, you’ll take Demyx anywhere I tell you to, even if it’s to your own funeral.” There was a trace of amusement in DiZ’s voice, but his meaning was deadly serious. “Is that clear?”
“Like glass.” Axel sucked on the cigarette agitatedly and started walking towards the door. “All right, if we’re gonna go, let’s go. C’mon.”
Saix moved to follow Axel out the door. He had not spoken during the duration of the interview, but now he walked over to Demyx and touched his shoulder.
“We’re leaving. Come on.”
“Oh sorry!” Demyx jumped up and put his phone in his pockets. Unlike the others who were all clad in white suits (or in DiZ’s case, crimson robes), he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt like any normal street punk. He looked up at Saix, not paying attention to any of the other intimidating men in the room. “Hey, what happened to that guy? ‘d we kill him?”
“No, not yet. We’re giving him a chance to keep his word.” Saix led Demyx to where Axel was waiting impatiently at the door.
Demyx blinked. “Why are we doing that?”
“Finally, the kid and I agree on something.” Axel muttered. It was a bad idea to voice his opinion too loudly with Xemnas and DiZ still in the room. Demyx could get away with it, but that’s because he didn’t know any better. Axel would lose a finger for such defiance.
Once, Saix, Axel and Demyx had left, Xaldin turned again to his boss and tilted his head slightly to the side.
“You want me to take care of Seifer along with the other project I’m working on?”
“You can handle it,” DiZ answered. “If you need help, get the other three to assist you.”
“Zexion and the others aren’t making themselves easy to keep an eye on, sir. But I’ll do my best.” Xaldin took his leave and walked out of the room.
~
There were two main yakuza groups in Radiant Garden. The older organization, referred to as the Ansem family, had been established since time immemorial and was currently headed by the man known as DiZ. It was said that the leadership of the Ansem family had waned and become weak in recent years until he had come along. With an iron fist and razor wits, he had taken the organization and re-forged it into a force to be reckoned with once again.
But even within DiZ’s absolute rule, all had not been harmonious. His closest subordinate and protégé, a stoic young prodigy named Zexion, led a coup and separated from the main family to form his own organization known as The Order. He and his new family had risen quickly among the ranks of the gangs of Radiant Garden until they were powerful enough to rival even the Ansem group. Through murder, blackmail, prostitution, money laundering, gambling and a score of other illegal activities, the two organizations between them controlled almost all of Radiant Garden.
It was Xaldin’s job to monitor this renegade family, as per DiZ’s request. Most of them had been notorious within underground circles even before joining The Order and so Xaldin had fairly detailed dossiers on the majority of them. But the difficult part was tracking their current movements. But DiZ trusted Xaldin and Xaldin had never failed him before.
However, that didn’t stop Xaldin from being even more stoic and grim than usual as he carried his briefcase into Seventh Heaven.
The bar had once been nothing but a seedy little dive that the gangs of the city had used as both headquarters and recreation spot for years. But as the gangs of Radiant Garden had grown and matured, so had Seventh Heaven. The uneven wooden floor and creaky barstools had vanished and been replaced by glossy, polished wood and red velvet. It played to a richer crowd now, a crowd that was more than pleased to take advantage of Seventh Heaven’s policy of strict anonymity for its patrons.
But one thing about Seventh Heaven hadn’t changed. Tifa, the longtime owner and sole employee stood behind the bar and watched with arms akimbo as Xaldin took his customary seat at the end of the bar.
“Long time no see, sugar.” Tifa leaned on the bar and smiled at him. “What’s with the briefcase? This ain’t an office.”
“More business gets conducted here than at any office in the city. You know that.” Xaldin sat back on his barstool and almost smiled. He had always enjoyed Tifa’s company. He admired her dry wit and the fact that she never appeared to be intimidated, not even in the face of the most dangerous and deadly men in the world. Including Xaldin himself.
Tifa grinned. “I can’t say that the notion doesn’t please me, but ‘m just a simple girl with a simple bar. Here ya go, sugar.” She handed him a glass of red wine. “I saved a bottle of that stuff you like, just for you.”
“You’re too good to me.” Xaldin accepted the wine gratefully and took a sip. “The bar seems empty today.”
“Everyone’s saving up their energy for tonight. Lar’s opening the place up, you know.” Tifa’s eyes sparkled at Xaldin. “I’m surprised you didn’t already know that.”
“I’ve been distracted and I didn’t realize.” Xaldin drummed his fingers against the bar. “I’ll have to come by.”
“Mmhmm. Everyone’d be horribly disappointed if you didn’t show up. You’re the crowd favorite.”
“Hm.” Xaldin almost smiled. “Tell your partner I’ll come.” He paused for a moment. “Tifa, I respect your policy of neutrality…”
“Then don’t ask questions you know I can’t answer.”
“You know I can pay.”
“Look around, sugar.” Tifa gestured grandiosely. “Do I look like I need the money?”
Xaldin acquiesced with a nod and another sip of wine. Tifa was adamant about her policy of non-involvement and neutrality and would never divulge anything about her other patrons, no matter what was offered to her. All of them had tried at one point or another, but the truth was that they all appreciated it so much that they supplied her with more than ample funds to keep the bar running and well-stocked.
“I’m looking for information on The Order. They have new members and information is scarce.”
Tifa just watched him for a very long few moments before smiling.
“Just come tonight. You won’t be disappointed.”
~
“If you don’t stop cheating, I’ll put a bullet in your damn jaw.”
Setzer Gabbiani couldn’t help but smirk into his cards. Half the fun of playing cards with Luxord was how much cheating annoyed him. Naturally, Setzer cheated at every available opportunity just so he could see how much he could ruffle Luxord’s feathers.
“You need to get more fun out of the game. Can’t blame a gambler for wanting to improve his odds.” Setzer tossed his fake ace onto the table and drew a real card from the stack.
Luxord looked sternly across the table at Setzer, stroking his goatee with a thumb and forefinger as he did so,
“That’s defeating the very purpose of the game.”
The table at which the two men were playing cards had at one point been a beautiful piece of furniture, hand-carved from fine woods and carefully finished to perfectly display its natural luster. However, the years had been less than kind to it and it was now a sign of faded elegance, a perfect allegory for the room itself. When the building had been constructed twenty years ago, it had been considered the height of fashion. However, the old-world splendor had been stripped away over twenty years and now all that remained was a ghost of elegance.
Most of the members of The Order would have preferred a more modern locale for their headquarters, but Zexion admired anything old-fashioned and Marluxia liked anything elegant. Marluxia and Zexion being the heads of the family, their opinion was the only one that really counted.
“Is it? Perhaps I was under the wrong impression, but I always thought that the purpose of the game was to win.” Setzer rearranged his hand of cards, careful to keep his smirking to a minimum.
With one brow arched, Luxord placed two cards face-down on the table and picked up two more from the deck. It would be very easy to get angry at Setzer for his careless and faulty logic, but Luxord was well aware that one of Setzer’s chief pleasures in life was to bait him while playing cards.
“It’s a game of chance, you know. Skill can help you succeed to a point, but in the end it comes down to nothing more or less than dumb luck. Or fate. Same thing, really,” said Luxord.
Setzer tossed his hair. “But that’s where you’re wrong. A gambler’s role is to make his own fate. To take fate literally-” he held up his cards “-Into his own hands.”
“You have completely missed the point of this. A gambler’s role is to surrender to fate.”
“You’ll have to forgive me, but I find your notion to be an utter crock of shit.” Setzer smiled broadly at Luxord.
The other man returned the smile, stroking his goatee as he did so,
“No need to get upset over a trivial game.”
“Says the man who threatened to put a bullet in my jaw not five minutes ago.”
“You were cheating. Besides, time change. Stop living in the past, Setzer.”
“Indeed,” Setzer leaned back in his chair to show that he wasn’t riled up at all. It was a lie and both men were well aware of it, but appearances were half the game. “Shall we?”
“Oh yes.”
The next few minutes involved quite a bit of shouting and accusations, all of which were centered around the fact that both men had played the exact same hand. It was on the verge of becoming a brawl when a skinny, dark-haired teenage girl practically skipped into the room.
“Hi boys. How’s the card game going?” She asked cheerfully.
Both Setzer and Luxord turned and eyed her and took their seats again practically in unison.
“Hello Yuffie,” Setzer said wryly. “Having a nice day?”
“I’d hate to think that you had any part of our unfortunate little game, Yuffie dear,” Luxord drummed his fingers on the table.
“What? Me? I had nothing to do with fixing your game.” Yuffie clasped her hands behind her back and looked up at the ceiling. “I wouldn’t dream of messing with your deck. That wouldn’t be a very nice thing to do.”
Setzer laughed outright and even Luxord had to smile. Yuffie may be an annoying little wench, but damned if she didn’t have the personality to make you forget about it.
“What are you doing here, girlie? It’s still early for you to show up.” Luxord leaned back in his chair and began to gather up the cards that had been scattered in the almost-scuffle.
“Just makin’ my usual report to the bosses. I’m doing it early ‘cause I’ve gotta date tonight that I don’t wanna skip out on. He’s fuckin’ scrumptious.” Yuffie licked her lips.
“Our little Yuffie is turning into quite the painted harlot,” Lurxord remarked dryly.
Setzer raised a brow at him. “You’re just jealous because you haven’t gotten laid in two weeks.”
Luxord gave Setzer a pointed look as Yuffie snickered in the background.
“I haven’t gotten laid because I haven’t tried, I’ll have you know. I’m holding out for someone special.”
“Lux, dude, you’ve gotta give up on Tifa. She’s never gonna go out with you. You could make yourself into a freakin’ monk waitin’ on her.” Yuffie put her hands on her hips.
“Tifa and I share a very intimate relationship,” Luxord insisted. “Just because we haven’t slept together yet doesn’t mean anything. It takes time.”
“Your dick’s gonna stop workin’ if you ignore your urges like that,” Yuffie told him. Setzer didn’t say anything, although he was inclined to agree with Yuffie on this one.
“I assure you that what you know about me and my “dick” wouldn’t fill half a post-it note,” Luxord told her icily.
“Why? Is it really, really small?”
“The post-it note?”
Yuffie grinned and cocked her head to one side. “No, silly. Your-”
“My friend, I will give you two very good reasons why Tifa will never go out with you.” Setzer decided that cutting Yuffie off at that particular moment was the most prudent of decisions. “Number one - she’s a dyke. Number two - you’re trying far too hard. But mostly number one.”
Luxord bristled. “Just because you have no discerning taste in women, Setzer, doesn’t give you leave to criticize mine.”
“On the contrary,” the other man shook his head. “I find Tifa to be a very attractive woman. She’s just not my type. I prefer women who aren’t able to break my jaw.”
“You’re only saying that because you get slapped all the time for having ten girlfriends at a time,” said Luxord.
“Yes and that can hurt quite enough if they slap in the right places. Hence I have no desire to be with a woman who could potentially knock out my teeth.”
“Am I the only one who thinks it’d be funny as hell to see Setzer with his teeth all knocked out like a blitzball player?” Yuffie chimed in.
The three of them were silenced by the sound of a door opening somewhere in the upper stories of the house. They listened to the sounds of someone walking down a long hall and then quickly descend down a flight of stairs. And then, from a different part of the house, another door opening and closing. And then nothing at all.
“Xigbar.” It was Setzer who finally spoke. “He always goes out through the back door.” He paused briefly. “I know he’s not technically our boss, but he scares me more than Zexion and Marluxia put together.”
“He’s supposed to, I think.” Luxord nibbled on the corner of a card thoughtfully. “He’s not like the bosses… he’s an executioner.”
“He’s fuckin’ scary.” Yuffie shook her head after a moment, as if to clear it. “Anyways, I’m going up to meet with the bosses. Are you boys gonna play nice without me down here to chaperone?”
“Don’t you mean referee?” Asked Setzer.
“Same thing.” The girl dusted herself off and traipsed up the stairs, once again leaving the two gamblers alone to their cards.
With deft fingers, Setzer took up the deck and began to shuffle it, more to have something to do than anything else.
“What do you think of Xigbar? The two of you have always seemed to be on somewhat decent terms,” asked Setzer of his friend.
“Xigbar is nothing if not complex.” Luxord played with one of his earrings thoughtfully. “And that’s putting it lightly.”
“He’s complex like a one-way street, perhaps. The man’s a monster and that’s really all there is to it.”
“I’d be more careful with your words if I were you. Even Xigbar can get offended. Or you could just catch him in a bad mood. Either way, you would be in worlds of trouble if he decided that he didn’t like what you were saying.”
Setzer began to deal the cards out, so preoccupied by Luxord’s words that he wasn’t even sure what game he was dealing until Luxord cleared his throat and he realized that he was looking at one of the worst poker hands in his life.
“If it’s not one thing it’s always another…”
~
Like Seventh Heaven, Seventh Hell was a place that catered to an alternate sort of clientele. Other clubs did the same thing, of course, but none of them had the sort of reputation that Seventh Hell had garnered for itself since it had opened. Nobody could just walk into Seventh Hell - the establishment was by-invitation only. And it wasn’t just for the super-rich or those with black market connections. Rich, poor, sane, mad, sadist, masochist… all were welcome, as long as they followed the club’s simple rules.
The mark of membership was a ring with a single ruby the color of blood set deep within the recesses of the gold, so deep that it appeared to be nothing more than a glint of red. Xaldin twisted this ring about his finger as he walked past Seventh Heaven, opened a rusty and grimy door and began to walk up a filthy concrete stairwell. The lone bulb above flickered and blinked sporadically, much to the dismay of the bevy of moths that fluttered around it.
The door at the top of the stairs was just as rusted as the one he had just passed through. Someone had taken it upon themselves to scrawl ABANDON ALL HOPE, YE WHO ENTER HERE across the door in bright red graffiti. The sight of it never failed to amuse Xaldin. After all, Larxene was well-known for her taste for the dramatic.
Xaldin deftly entered a series of numbers into the keypad mounted in the wall beside the door. He waited a few seconds, then stepped forward as the door opened into a large and extravagantly-decorated room.
From the lush red carpets and velvet drapes to the exquisite furniture and priceless art, the entire room screamed opulence. Fires burned in golden brackets on the wall and cast flickering light over all manner of toys hanging there. Whips, chains, collars, crops, blindfolds, feathers, gags and other such accouterments, all perfectly organized and displayed for anyone to use. A number of sculptures (a great many of them depicting graphic sexual acts) adorned the room along with comfortable furniture and painful-looking racks. Decadent little treats like chocolates were set out on silver trays for general consumption.
“You’re late.”
Xaldin had been removing his coat and placing it upon one of the hooks in the wall when he was addressed. He turned and found himself looking at the proprietor of Seventh Hell, a rather petite blonde woman wearing an exceptionally tailored black and red men’s suit. She held a glass of red wine in one hand and a thin black cigar in another and sampled both liberally as she smirked up at Xaldin.
“I am not late. I arrived exactly on time,” he told her.
“Mmhmm. I suppose I’m used to you arriving early then. We were all afraid you weren’t going to make it at all.”
There were a few people already there, all of whom Xaldin recognized. It was an elite club, Seventh Hell. Members retained their membership for life and so the majority of the faces were constant. However, there was one whom Xaldin found that he was not familiar with. There was a man sitting at the bar on the far side of the room that Xaldin was fairly sure he had not seen before. It was difficult to be positive since the man had his back turned, but Xaldin would have remembered someone with so many grey streaks in his hair.
“I never miss an event. You know that.”
“Yeah, I know. You know I’d come and track your ass down if you did. You’re too much fun to have around. Even Tifa agrees.” Larxene gestured to the bar. Tifa stood behind it, just as she did at her own establishment, although now she was wearing a red corset that magnificently displayed her ample chest. The bartender waved at Xaldin, then returned to speaking to the man sitting at the bar.
“Anyhow, come over here.” Larxene placed her wine glass down on a table and took Xaldin’s arm as though he were a woman. “I want to meet Xigbar. He’s our newest member.”
~
To Be Continued...