Yuletide Yakuza

[seraph]

[ Org XIII Members Only ]

Christmas. Such a happy time of year. Festive cheer and melancholy times are abundant. For one to appreciate these concepts of the holiday season, one must put they're whole heart into believing. Faith. The only thing thats sustains this festival of giving. If one chose not to believe in good old St. Nick, times would surely change. Everyone would be placed on the naughty list.

Ah, the list.

Such a wondrous object. I do tell you its not a myth. Nor a fabricated tale to ensure the behavior of young ones doesn't falter in the slightest. An object of great power. The ability to know.

Who. When. Where. What.

Were one person to wield such a power as those four words, they would go untested for the rest of they're lives. Upon thinking of these very concepts, the cloaked individual plunged into the darkness from the Grey Area. That familiar feeling of displacement along with he fluttery feeling of having ones stomach in they're throat took over. Once he felt his feet touch reasonably solid ground, he opened his eyes.

That opaque darkness, ebbing with an equally dark mist soon disappeared, scattering to the four winds. In its place left the Gambler. At first his vision was narrowed, tunneled by his hood that covered his head. As his emerald orbs gazed below from atop Yuletide Hill, he repulsed ever so slightly. Beneath this edifice appeared to be the machinations of a jolly fat man. "Christmas..." he uttered to himself, his words barely audible. Bright lights bringing a warm glow radiated from the plaza below. That spinning carousel was up and running which was a little unfortunate but not a hindrance to his plans. I apologize. They're plans.

Not a moment longer had he removed that unsightly hood from his head that he began caressing his left ear. Notably his Nobody crested stud. Beneath his feet the snow crunched as he took a few steps forward. If he had a heart he would find the small noise a comfort. A coy smirk spread on his face, gazing at the victims below. It wouldn't be long now.

In a graceful manner his right hand flicked the air in front of him. Soon after swirls of purple jagged light encircled four black orbs. Within a second they had grown to a rectangle size, standing on the smaller length side vertical in parallel with one another. Each of them had numbers on them in the roman numeral style.

III. IV. VII. IX.

Queue cards, Luxord liked to refer to them as. Whilst they floated in the air in front of him, he stood still. His lips were pursed but a glimmer of what might have been anticipation flared in his cerulean eyes. Folding his slightly baggy clothed arms, he stood still motionless. Now for this game to begin he would need pieces. Pieces to move on the board and take the King. In this case the fatman.

[Homac]

Christmas time, the favorite time of year for most people. It wasn't well known, but that mantra held true for the number IX of the Organization as well, mostly due to his Somebody's feelings on it. Of course, that "feeling" could be easily supressed, but why would the Melodious Noctourne have ever bothered? It wasn't like christmas cheer ever hurt anyone... Right?

Demyx stepped out of a portal of darkness, somewhat apprehensive about his job: Kidnapping Santa.

He could swear he heard someone reading the Grinch story somewhere nearby...

Walking up to Luxord, the leader for this mission, he said, "Well, let's get this over with. Ho Ho Ho, and all that..."

The Nobody stood silently near the leader, waiting for the rest to appear.

[seraph]

Before his eyes the card numbered III, dispersed in a dark mist. A look of what appeared to be surprise formed on his pale face. "So the lancer folded...nevermind" he muttered to himself mainly staring at the cards glistening in front of him. He found they're slow hovering a bit soothing, if that was possible. Then again it may have been the fact that they were cards which drew his attention so effortlessly. Either way he slowly raised his right hand toward one of the cards. Clasping his gloved hand around the one on the furthest right, IX, he examined it carefully.

Hearing the Nocturnes voice somewhere behind him, he turned around. "There's been a change of plan..." the Gambler began focusing his eyes upon Demyx. He had joined right before Luxord had stumbled into the Order's clutches, yet he seemed to have the least respect from all the members. Or so he was led to believe. "Saix, Vexen and Xaldin aren't joining us" he finished in a cold statement. No emotion was present on his face whatsoever.

Raising the card to his chest, he recoiled his arm before throwing it in a swift and somewhat stylish fashion. Its intended target? Demyx of course. He was meant to catch it in an equally casual fashion like so many other members of the Organization had done previous in Castle Oblivion. Off subject for a little while, he had been made the Steward of that said castle by the new superior. "Head into town. Festive celebration is in the air it would seem. Walk among the people and learn what you can of the target. He's due to make an appearance in an hour. Soon after we'll make our move. When your done head to Candycane Lane. They'll be a young woman wearing a blue pendant. She'll give you the key to the targets abode once you've...shared your knowledge with her." he concisely put in his distinct accent.

With a coy smile he carried on his briefing. "In half an hour, meet me in the plaza with your tasks complete and we'll apprehend the target along with his personal effects. Understood?" he finally finished with a serious tone about his voice. Taking a few steps towards the town he turned around once more. "If things go awry, raise your card and you'll return to here immediately in which I'll soon follow to give further instruction on the matter" Luxord informed turning away once more. However he stopped after a few more steps. Not turning back to look at IX he simply stating in a cold tone once more. "Failure is not an option...the Superior would be very displeased should the target escape." With that final note he headed off down the hill to do his own exploration and intel gathering. Naturally of his endeavors only he knew about.