Opening his dark portal directly into the 'Michael's Arts and Crafts' office was one of the best choices Axel made all night, though he didn't know it at the time. Mounted above the sales floor, lurking in the higher reaches of ebony encompassed by the warehouse ceiling, were armed motion sensors keeping watch over beads, scrapbook paper and other craft related flotsam. Since the office's only access door connect to the sales floor, designer assumed that such careful measures were unnecessary in the smaller space. To be fair, those designers did not anticipate Organization 13.
Axel was disappointed to find that Michael's kept fewer tabs on their employees than the Superior did. Though thicker than most, Aideen's file contained only her initial application, direct deposit information, 3 or 4 wavers and a series of semi-annual employee assessments. Glancing through these, Axel established Aideen never scored higher than a 6 out of 10 on her 'teamwork' portion of these assessments, apparently preferring to complete her work alone. Why the Hell is that a problem? Axel wondered. In every other respect, Aideen was a model employee, scoring 9's and 10's on 'knowledge of protocol', 'friendliness', 'effort', 'timeliness', and many other boring categories. Try as he might, Axel could not picture the Superior hunched over an employee evaluation sheet, fretting over the weighty difference between '6' and '7', wondering if Lexaeus deserved the higher score for, 'ability to manage money'. Being a human manager must really blow. I wonder if not killing coworkers falls under 'teamwork' or 'trustworthiness'? I'd probably get a negative score.
Axel smirked as he flipped to the final page of the report. Here, several managers left favorable comments about Aideen's character and dedication to her work. A few mentioned her quiet manner, though they also noted that her shy personality rarely undermined relationships with coworkers and that she at least played open with customers. Even on paper, Aideen's apparent niceness and sincerity disgusted Axel, the way that trucks used to carry trash still stink when empty. At the bottom of the comment page, tight, smallish words formed a somewhat different account of Aideen. Their cramped lines described her as hopelessly slow, displeasingly aloof and nothing sort of a burden to the rest of the store. Glancing through the other evaluations, Axel noticed that Mr. or Mrs. 'stick up the ass' as he came to call them, never wavered in their dislike of Aideen. "Aideen Krelborne continues to lag behind coworkers with similar seniority in respect to public relations and grasp of store policy." The commentator claimed, undaunted by the wash of positive views around their writing. No signature laid claim to the harsh remarks, and Axel didn't waste time investigating who bore the grudge; Miss Aideen Krelborne might not even be alive much longer to annoy the person anyway.
Let's see…Aideen. Quiet, unassuming kind of chick. Boring even. Probably covers for her coworkers, picking up their shifts and weak shit like that. Spends a Hell of a lot of time here. Damn. I'd rather watch paint dry than read her autobiography. Axel thought bitterly as he returned the file to its proper place. At least, until the chapter I came in. Then he disappeared in a whirl of darkness, leaving behind only the faint smells of cigarettes and cinnamon.
--
That night, after finishing her Organization 13 research, Aideen set her alarm back by two hours. She knew that she would miss her first class, but she decided that she didn't care. It was a senior portfolio class; required for all English majors but rarely useful. More often than not, the 50 minutes allegedly spent on refining applications, revising essays or primping articles was dedicated to reading material for other courses. The professor met this blatant rebellion with apathy, busily working on his own scholarly pieces rather than teaching or disciplining the large class. He rarely even took role. Ordinarily, Aideen wouldn't miss class unless physically unable to attend, like the time she got food poisoning from bad tuna. Nearly being murdered by a video game character did not physically incapacitate her, but mentally she felt utterly waterlogged and tired.
Images of Axel and his accomplices scampered around Aideen's consciousness, making her weary with anxiety. Recovering from trauma was not a mere desire; no, it was essential she convinced herself, setting her alarm back and swelling with pride at her own bravado. Then, she took a pair of Tylenol PM on an empty stomach because she felt sufficiently guilty about willfully skipping class that she couldn't sleep soundly.
The next day, she woke ahead of her alarm in habit and went to class anyway.
--
While Aideen labored through her senior portfolio class, Axel slunk through the converted warehouse, aiming for silence and scarcity. He and the other 'muscle' of Organization 13 had little to do in the new world since killing its inhabitants failed to render hearts to harvest and no Keyblade wielder to inconvenience their studies. There weren't even any Heartless scuttling about in nightmare droves, preying on the civilians who swarmed the streets, ignorant of magic. Vexen, Lexaeus and Zexion occasionally called on one member or another to help with specialized tasks (Larxene, for example, was an unsurprisingly adapt electrical engineer), but beyond that, there were no missions to attend to, no nefarious plans to execute. Despite this lull in action, Marluxia insisted upon running the battered Organization like a military unit, acting on the notion that only discipline would entice their hearts' reappearance. Soon after Axel arrived on Earth, Marluxia tried to order him on some kind of recon mission in the capital of the United States of America. Axel met this request with impressive eye-rolling and a theatrical sigh before asking lazily, "Who died and elected you Superior? Not me." Marluxia did not take kindly to this cutting remark. Even so, he persisted with his attempts at militaristic management, often bullying Organization 13 members to do his inane bidding. Axel never complied with these demands, but all the same, he didn't want to bother brushing off the persistent Marluxia.
Oozing down the hallway, Axel came to Larxene's quarters and rapped on her door with a gloved knuckle. Vexen, Marluxia and Lexaeus all agreed that Organization members should continue to wear their uniforms as a mark of fidelity to the cause and to "Maintain a professional appearance befitting an organization of our caliber and sophistication." Axel privately thought that the leadership wanted everything to look ship-shape in case Sora got the upper hand and sent Xemnas to Earth.
"Enter!" Larxene shouted, though her voice barely penetrated the soundproof door and walls of her living quarters. Axel stood in front of the nearly seamless wall, and the door revealed itself by sliding open with a futuristic swish. Inside the large room, Larxene was jogging on a treadmill, sweating but refusing the indignity of panting. A large wall-mounted flat screen TV played an old episode of "House" at high volume, apparently intended to distract Larxene from the rigors of her routine. Like his own quarters, Larxene had a large living room, a private bathroom and a bedroom at her disposal, though she choose to convert her space into an exercise room while Axel's contained an impressive array of electronics. "Whatcha want, Carrot Top?" Larxene asked, dialing down the sound on the TV and slowing the pace on her treadmill. Axel stepped into the room and allowed the door to slip closed behind him.
"Shit. You aren't going to ask me why Mommy gets really hungry and angry once a month are you? I told you guys a thousand times I am not your private encyclopedia on feminine hygiene. There's the internet for that you know." Larxene swiped sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand with no effect, since her entire body was thoroughly soaked. Smiling to himself, Axel admired Larxene in her sports bra and tiny exercise shorts. Say what you want about her personality. The girl's got looks. Aloud he said, "I do have a girly question, but it doesn't involve what your ovaries do in your spare time. Actually, it's more of a second opinion kinda thing."
"Shoot." Larxene said before grabbing a water bottle from a mini-fridge and chugging the drink mannishly, accidentally spilling some down her chin and mouth. "Some girl I met. She was real easy going and friendly when I first met her, but all other sources report her as dull. Why the difference in behavior?" Larxene raised her eyebrows, "Damn Axel. Researching the sensitivities of the female mind? I'd be touched if I thought you actually gave a shit about this chick. This have to do with the Michael's incident?" "Yeah." Axel admitted, "And I give two shits about her, but not for some 'emotional' reason. Obviously." Axel made little air quotes around the word 'emotional'.
Continuing to clean herself up, Larxene grabbed a towel from a small cabinet next to the mini-fridge and tried to dry her brow again. "At first listen, sounds like she was really into you. But even that doesn't make sense, since shy girls tend to get shier around people they like, right? Not to mention you have a fucking horrible personality. Was she on drugs the first time you met her? Slipping people roofies again Axel?" She teased wickedly. Axel rolled his eyes, "Only you need to try that hard, crazy bitch. Some of us are attractive enough to get laid without substance abuse. As for drugs…she thought she was high I guess you could say?" Larxene stared blankly at Axel. "Thought she was high? Bloody Hell Axel, what kind of kinky stuff you getting into these days? I guess…now I'm no psychologist here, but if she felt that she had a reason to abandon her inhibitions, maybe she could ah…come out of her shell a little?" Considering this, Axel played with a 10 pound weight from Larxene's set, "Makes sense. I was thinking along those lines. What are the chances of her getting to that state again? Real loose lipped I mean?" he asked. "Naturally? Probably nothing short of a miracle. But if she got high for real or drunk? Who knows." Larxene mused. Then she turned back to Axel, "Did I just give her the death sentence?" There was no concern in that voice; no compassion or guilt, just sheer curiosity. Axel shrugged, "Maybe. Chick's not a real party animal. People probably wouldn't believe her anyway. I mean, gonna take some drink girl on her word?" "She find out about the Organization Axel?" Larxene asked coolly, twisting at her antenna-like hair. "Nothing that dire." Axel lied, replacing the weight on its rack. After a moment of silence, Axel spoke again, "Still playing Marluxia's lapdog?"
With a snort of unattractive laughter, Larxene tossed her towel into a laundry chute. The garment would be washed, dried and returned to her by a rather clever automated system of Demyx's invention. "Hell no. Got me killed the first time around." "He's asking about you. Seems to think we're involved." Axel stated, his tone revealing nothing. "He always was a possessive little bastard. All things considered, I can't blame him for thinking my taste in men is that bad." Larxene sniped. She didn't like talking about Marluxia. "What's he going to do if Sora wins? Go after the Superior again?" Axel asked. Larxene shrugged one shoulder in a careless sort of way, "Who knows? I talk about this kind of thing as little as possible with him. I don't want to make any choices until I can size up both sides." "That's very you. Good to know you've learned." Axel said, smirking loftily. "I'll send you straight to Hell Axel. Everyone will thank me." Larxene said dispassionately before adding, "Where are you planning on lining up?"
Axel simply smiled and backed out of Larxene's room, leaving her irritated and wondering.