For an Organization, the Organization XIII was not what one would call... organized. It was not so easily seen from the outside - the members were capable enough to appear a unified force when they were called upon to show up as one whole. Once they entered their base and fortress... well, that was a whole 'nother story. Within the towering metal and glass spires and walls both magic and material, all bets were off.

 

When Lu Han called on them to meetings, they retained some semblance of one-ness just barely. On their own, some got along better than others and some were pretty much at each other's throats. Some barely bothered with either and still others swung back and forth between both like a woman on particularly terrible mood swings.

 

Sehun was one of the last, despite being number III. Kyungsoo liked to remark dryly that the boy shouldn't have gotten such a high ranking, that it was probably going to his head. The Superior hadn't really played favourites when giving them their numbered ranks - he'd sat on his throne and counted off numbers, as though he was counting cookies or goldfish rather than assigning ranks. Kris, Sehun, Minseok, Jongin, and Kyungsoo himself were the founding six, along with no. I, Lu Han.

 

Everyone else was easy. Whatever order they'd joined was their number and that was that. But numbers had this way of becoming something of a contest, not too far from schoolboys comparing , as though these numbers had more meaning than simple markers of time. Seniority was part of it, of course. The more the number of neophytes increased, the more this behavior seemed to carry.

 

At least with Kris and Sehun, this was the case. The other four couldn't give a damn even if they wanted to. Minseok would in if the matter got too out of hand, of course, but Jongin wasn't keen on doing anything else but observing. Kyungsoo didn’t seem to care at all. Lu Han picked on new ones just because he picked on everyone and could get away with it. Ah, the perks of being the Superior.

 

To be fair, no. II and no. III didn't pick on everyone. Or Kris didn't, anyway. Sehun's flighty character had him terribly fond of people and things one minute and completely hostile and grouchy the next. The only time he displayed some semblance of maturity was on the field. No one could tame him off it.

 

For the most part, they both left Yixing alone after awhile - you couldn't be mad at the water user for anything, he would just make you feel guilty about it (Sehun found this out personally). Tao was one of Kris' favourites and they could often be found playing cards on the balcony of Tao's chambers.

 

Tao always won, naturally. Kris didn’t mind so much, but for as much favor that he gave to Tao, Sehun gave him just as much spite. Tao seemed to enjoy provoking no. III just as much as Sehun probably did with him.

 

Both Suho and Chanyeol had been indicted into the Organization shortly after it had been formed - they generally were left unscathed. Suho because of his rumored berserk button and Chanyeol, well….. he usually ended up going along with their torment with ease. Mellow tempered as a candlelight, his fire only flared on particularly horrid days.

 

Baekhyun was a sass enough to bite back at both Kris and Sehun. The two never gave him their worst though - it helped that by the time he was brought into their group by Suho, they’d mellowed out somewhat, having learned better things to direct their energies towards. Sehun could still throw the worst of fits but Baekhyun merely smirked and pressed his buttons harder. Because no matter how pretty that scythe looked, it was at least ten times as sharp. And Baekhyun was what Kris called, trigger-happy.

 

But naturally, no one was as trigger happy as Kris when it came to Jongdae. No one knew what set them at each other’s throats - no one quite believed it was the usual seniority argument. It seemed too vicious for such a simple reason such as that. Kris had been the one to recruit the most recent addition to their clandestine party, so one had to wonder what had transpired that would make the two bear such ill will towards each other.

 

“What did I do this time?” Jongdae asked, seemingly to thin air as he sat in the library. He didn’t look up from the textbook and papers laid out in front of him, presumably Kyungsoo’s, from the articulate sketches and diagrams strewn across the desk. “You know, it’s considered rude in most places to stalk people.”

 

When the boy looked up at last, it was with narrowed eyes as he faced the point of one of the Freeshooter’s guns, glowing red as it was held close enough to almost singe the smaller man’s cheek. Kris stood behind him, face set in his usual expression of displeasure.

 

“No. II.”

 

Kris’ grey eyes flickered dangerously as Jongdae made to turn his head, looking at him from over his shoulder. The energy gathered at the tip of the gun crackled and glowed brightly yet the younger boy didn’t even flinch, didn’t even spare it a glance.

 

“I wouldn’t shoot if I were you anyway.”

 

Kris stiffened as he felt the point of a knife at the back of his neck, the edge of another against his jugular. Neither of them were pressed enough to draw blood - as long as he didn’t make any wrong moves.

 

“When did you…” the Freeshooter looked down at Jongdae, who by now had the beginning of a smug little smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Trade secret, No. II.”

 

The snarky words were part jest and part insult - as blue tendrils of electricity danced around the throwing knives suspended still at his neck and jugular, Kris realised he was stupid to forget the extent of Jongdae’s mastery of his electrical attribute. Jongdae smirked fully at him now, a wicked expression further accentuated by high, prominent cheekbones and lash framed eyes that now glowed a sharp bright gold.

 

The “Savage Nymph” indeed.

 

The knife at his throat moved ever so slightly, teasing with its mythril edged blade, the metal warmed by contact with his skin. His fingers gripped his gun tighter, the glowing red point not moving even a hair’s width from where it was still held dangerously close to Jongdae’s eye.

 

“Make one move and I swear--”

 

Jongdae snorted then, interrupting him. “Woe be it that the lowly No. XII leaves a mark on No. II. What are you going to do? We both know you won’t pull the trigger.”

 

Of course, Kris just had to prove him wrong, just because he could. He tilted his arrowgun just so. Jongdae wasn’t sure if he blinked then or not, blinded temporarily from the shot firing off so close to his face. The scent of burnt hair reached his nose before he felt that his ear had been close to getting part of it seared off.

 

Jongdae had this way of testing boundaries. More often than not, they were the ones that should not be crossed and most sane people would step back once they reached these limits, for their own personal safety. But Jongdae? He was either extraordinarily ignorant of these boundaries or simply didn’t care.

 

He’s a risky piece to be betting on. Maybe that’s why Kris was especially antagonistic towards him. Just making sure a potentially bad investment knew its place.

 

Jongdae narrowed his eyes, irises still flashing gold as he lifted one hand to the side of his head. There was a clear line of short singed hairs. “You’re more trigger happy than usual. Did you lose one game too many to Tao again?”

 

The tip of the arrowgun glowed bright red again, humming back to life. As Kris aimed the point to Jongdae’s eye again, the smaller man’s gaze sharpened, looking almost hawkish with the way they gleamed. Static passed through the two knives still pointed at his nape and jugular, sending a tingle dancing down Kris’ spine.

 

“You’re pushing it, No. XII.” he said warningly, Jongdae only scoffing in reply.

 

“And? What are you going to do? Tell on me?” the Savage Nymph said, taunting, “I would think you’re better than resorting to such infantile threats, No. II.”

 

Kris fell silent, though the glowing energy at the tip of his gun crackled for but a second. Jongdae seemed pleased at being the cause.

 

It was only when Kris vanished from sight that the smaller boy’s expression changed to surprise. The next thing he knew he was being hoisted up from the ground by a hand on the back of his neck. Quicker than either of them could blink, all eight of Jongdae’s knives materialised, surrounding the man behind him in a near complete circle.

 

He would’ve attacked then and there, if he hadn’t felt the hot tip of the arrowgun just barely prodding the small of his back. The hum of energy didn’t escape him and grew louder as Kris traced the line of his back, stopping just below where his hand still held Jongdae by his neck.

 

“No. XII. Did you really think you had the upperhand this whole time?” Kris said smoothly. “My attribute is space. Even if you attacked me right now, I could redirect your toys right back at you.”

 

Jongdae tensed and with it, blue tendrils of electricity skittered from one knife to another, full circle. When he didn’t say another word, Kris smirked, obviously sated. Just for the hell of it, he kept his hold on Jongdae for a few more seconds before letting go and dropping him unceremoniously. His knives clattered onto the white tiles with his fall, loud in the quiet room.

 

The boy coughed slightly, rubbing at his neck as Kris sauntered past him, heading for the door. He glared up at him just as he opened the door and with a movement quick as lightning, he reached for and launched a knife at the taller man.

 

Kris caught it between his fingers as he turned around, predicting such a turn of events. What he didn’t expect was Jongdae to appear in front of him in less time than it took for him to blink, his body half suspended in the air, face close enough that Kris could see every facet of furious gold in his hawkish eyes.

 

Small, lithe fingers curled into the collar of his cloak as Jongdae spoke, mouth so close to his that he could practically feel his hissed words against his lips.

 

“Don’t underestimate me, No. II.”

 

The fingers clutching his collar loosened, tips just barely brushing his neck and his windpipe before they pulled away, his other hand plucking his knife back from Kris’ clutches.

 

“Remember - I was the first one you lost to.”

 

And just like that, Jongdae was gone and his knives with him. He left only the lingering scent of ozone and singed hair from Kris’ warning shot. The Freeshooter’s eyes narrowed and glared at nothing in particular.

 

How could he forget that? His pride had been thoroughly smashed and though he lost their bet, Jongdae had agreed to join the Organization anyway, as though it were some sort of consolation prize. Logically he knew that No. XII would be a great asset to their cause.

 

Despite that, he couldn’t bite back the loathing he felt for the pity he felt he’d been handed. He would repay Jongdae, one of these days.