Rain pattered down lightly on the window, sliding down the slick surface and pooling along the outer ledge. The stars, usually bright pinpricks in the heavens, were obscured by thick, dark rain clouds. Occasionally the sky was lit up by a blast of lightning, purifying the clouds for an instant before fading back into the darkness from whence it came.
It was fitting, considering the mood of the man who stared out at the rain. He glared out at it, as if trying to force it all into a torrential downpour upon one single being. His face was one of a man willing to give anything for revenge, willing to sell his soul in order to see the downfall of another. His gaze remained fixed on a single point, unmoving, channeling every ounce of hatred in his being to that location.
How dare him. How dare him! Just as he had secured his position as king of Castle Oblivion, that oafish, self-centered prick of a leader had decided to send along an 'observational team'. Marluxia felt his nerves seethe and roil at the very mention of the word. He was going to be policed, watched, and noted. Every move he made, every edict he imposed, would be painstakingly recorded and sent to Xemnas. And, naturally, who better to lead this 'team' than the grand pompous windbag, the egotistical worm, the spineless idiot… Vexen.
Had he a heart, Marluxia would have been storming about, cursing and hurling objects about in a blind rage. He would have done something regrettable, something that would have spoiled his plans. Despite the fact that he was indeed emotionless, he still hated that his plans would have to be altered.
His gaze swept away from the window, falling across the dreary apartment. It was here that he came, sometime with Larxene, to plot, plan, smoke, dream and make love. Away from the prying eyes of Xemnas and his lapdogs. Away from cowards, turncoats and keybearers.
He sighed as he sat on the small bed, shedding his coat as he picket up a small tin that lay by his bedside. He opened it, removing the crushed extract of one of his more potent herbs. Xemnas disapproved of drugs, but allowed his underlings to indulge every now and then. Marluxia had always complied, provided the recipient gave him something in exchange. It had worked, and the botanist had profited slightly from the needs of members such as Xigbar, Luxord, and, on one occasion, Demyx. He of course kept the best for himself.
So he lay, half naked and wreathed in smoke, on the hard mattress, letting the magic of the crushed petals ease his mind. He lazily blew out a smoke ring, watching it twirl through the air and smiling.
The door opened slowly as Larxene flounced in. She glanced about the room, frowning slightly before shutting the door and taking a seat on the bed. She gave Marluxia a strange look, the snatched the pipe from his hands and inhaled deeply.
"It's really bugging you that much?" She asked, blowing smoke out of her nostrils. He smiled at her, watching her delicate fingers raise the small object to her lips. Even under the influence of mind-expanding substances, his mind did not immediately turn to phallic connotations.
"It's not so much that," Marluxia said, shifting his position so that his head rested by her backside. "I can handle it. Zexion's to arrogant to see what's directly in front of him, and Lexaeus is the boy's lapdog. He won't do anything without permission." He smiled, remembering how he dangled his plots in front of the giant, daring the fifth member to accuse him of something. Lexaeus was no coward, but he wouldn't do anything without first consulting Zexion or Xemnas. Thus, the problem was solved.
"And Vexen?" Larxene asked, handing the pipe back to Marluxia. She'd done him the favor of removing her gloves, allowing him to glimpse more of her pale, creamy skin. It was nothing he hadn't seen before, but it was still enough to arouse some interest.
He shrugged, taking a drag of the narcotic smoke before going on. "Vexen is one easily cowed. All we need to do is convince him that it is in his best interests to side with us. After all…" He looked up, smiling at the Nymph. "You can be very convincing when you want to be."
Larxene giggled, enjoying herself and the affect of the plant fumes. She leaned back, cooing lightly as she cupped her co-conspirator's face in her bare hands. "I don't think I wanna play with Vexen. He's annoying and boring." She lay back, allowing Marluxia to rest his head on her stomach. "Maybe if you let me play with the keyboy for a while…" She trailed off, grinning and breathing in the smoke that wrapped around them like a strange fog.
Marluxia nodded, pulling himself up as he moved closer to the other nobody. She giggled lightly as he straddled her waist, hovering just over her. "When the Organization is mine," He whispered as he drew close to her face, "You shall be my queen. And the keybearer will be your puppet." He punctuated the sentence with a kiss, pulling Larxene close to him as they savored each other and the act that was bound to follow.
Later, as they lay in each other's arms, bereft of clothing and covered in a slight sheen of sweat, he spoke again.
"We'll pit Vexen against his cohorts. Work them into a squabbling mess, then have Sora clean them up."
Larxene smiled, tracing her finger across his abdomen. She looked up suddenly, and grinned. The words she uttered made Marluxia wonder if she was still under the affects of the herbs.
"You know, you're damn sexy when you plot murder and mutiny."