Kingdom Hearts: Night of Fate



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“Seth, don’t do that! Seth, Mommy said not to play on the beach with the storm coming!”

Ignoring his little sister’s cries, Seth stripped off his shirt and pants, placing them carefully in the hollow of a tree where they wouldn’t get wet. Wearing only his shorts, he felt the surf wash over his feet as he stared out across the ocean. Along the horizon, right at the vanishing point where sea meets sky, a single unbroken line of dark clouds formed a barrier between the two. It stretched off in either direction as far as the eye could see. Seth couldn’t recall anything like it.

“I’m telling Mommyyyy!” his little sister cried as she started away across the beach. Seth ignored her.

She wasn’t old enough to remember the last time a large storm had hit the island. Seth had only been a few years old when it had happened, about ten years ago now, but he remembered it with a clarity that few adults could claim. It had been a bad affair for the island: trees flattened, houses damaged, even a few lives lost out of carelessness or just bad luck. Not many of the islanders were willing to talk about it now, and none hoped for a repeat. None except for Seth. He dove into the water and pulled himself out towards those dark clouds with long, confident strokes.

He was headed towards a little jut-out of rocks and sand that he liked to call, in the privacy of his mind, ‘his island.’ He was confident that he was the only one who ever went there. It was a hard, thirty-minute swim just to reach it, and none of the other children on the island could swim as well as Seth; multiple swimming competitions had proven the point. His still-growing body hadn’t had time to develop extra muscle yet, but he had that lean, no-extra-baggage kind of figure that young boys could get through long periods of time spent out-of-doors. And so when he got there, it was just Seth, the rocks and sand, the sea and sky.

When he pulled himself up onto the rocky outcropping, his breathing was hard but even, and he shivered for a moment in his wet skin and shorts. The clouds hadn’t advanced visibly, but he could feel the cool breeze that was bringing them in. It was heavy with unshed rain and things to come. He lay back on a flat rock and let the sun dry him, the sky overhead still blue and empty. Seth propped his head on his hands and closed his eyes, recovering from the swim out there. Strange shapes played in the darkness beneath his eyelids; several minutes later, when the first peals of thunder could be heard rolling across the sea, Seth could no longer distinguish them from the stuff of his dreams.
 
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Orion

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Re: Kingdom Hearts: Night of Fate - Trial Run

The mechanic's son strode methodically down alleys, weaving a deliberate but meandering pattern, a unique assemblage of steel slung over his shoulder. His figure - tall for nineteen years - was intimidating enough, but the weapon over his shoulder amplified that effect further, matching his shoulder height were it standing vertical on the ground. His golden eyes darted around, looking for any hint of red, or if patches of green looked to be chasing something. The gangs would be out with such weather brewing.

Leroy's father was a gifted artisan, brilliant with mechanisms and metallurgy, and thought highly of his entrepreneurial moments when they presented themselves, though there was less to back that up. Until a month ago, Garl had been one of two men supplying the island of Kismet's rival gangs with devices, weapons, traps, vehicle modifications and the like.

When the red-emblazoned faction took out the rival mechanic, Garl though to contract a smaller business as a front for them to receive their gear through; stifle their reception of improved equipment, build in intentional degradation, and so be in control of the goodies that both sides got their hands on - his own hardly legal effort to crack down on the gang violence overrunning portions of the town.

The weapon was Leroy's own pet project, but it hadn't yet received a name. All good weapons had names, and this one's mettle had yet to be tested in battle. Perhaps it never might - facing up against half-a-dozen, four-foot parallel blades was probably enough to deter any foe, let alone when they started spinning atop their motorised hilt. Leroy hoped it would prove itself on deterrence value alone. In his more fanciful moments he'd even considered trying to incorporate the revolutions into a gatling function - now that would be a sight to flee at. And if they didn't, and happened to push the assault particularly hard, it gave him his own fleeing options too.

The reds found out about the source of their new goods, trashed the front mechanic's place, and went on the hunt for Garl this morning. Leroy's father turned up to maximum all the remote degradations he could - multifunction melee turned to chunks of immobile metal, vehicles rendered stationary as bricks, traps turned on to be triggered by anyone's passage; civilians avoided gang areas like the plague spots they were.
Even so, Garl's own designs had only been in circulation among the reds for a month, whereas his former rival had had a couple years. And so Leroy was on patrol while Garl stuck it out behind all the improved traps and devices he'd kept from the reds and greens, all turned outwards.

Leroy was, personally, neutral in the whole affair, but he of course had favoured treatment among the greens for his father's work, so he wore a bright green gem in the wrist of his leather wristband - easily hidden, but also easy to flash to friendly forces in an emergency. The sleeves of his light grey hoodie were rolled above his elbows, blue t-shirt showing through the unzipped jacket. The bottom of his dark jeans a little damp from the puddles set down by earlier rain, solid black boots issuing the regular, confident sound of his march.

It was when he was checking on one of his father's traps that a small perimeter alarm went off, and Leroy was able to finish the check and turn in time to see youths with brilliant red bandannas and similarly obvious signage rounded the corner. Accusatory inquiries - with their fair share of expletives - were thrown his way. He clearly brandished a formidable weapon, and on this night of all nights, if he'd been on their side, he'd made no sensible effort to broadcast it. Leroy's complicity with the greens was taken as a given before he'd got his first word out.
 
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Eternal Dream

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Re: Kingdom Hearts: Night of Fate - Trial Run

~- Wave Runner -~

"Hurry it up, Raph!"

Kisara leaned forward on the board, riding the swell as the ocean crested before dipping once more. Glancing over her shoulder, her heterochromatic eyes sparkling with mischief, she watched as Raphael powered his way through the growing waves as the storm drew closer behind them. Kisara knew there'd be hell to pay when the two of them got home; since she'd been old enough to ride a board, her parents had drilled it into her head that she should never, ever take on the waves created by an approaching storm. The ocean during a hurricane was a cruel mistress, claiming more of the foolish surfers that braved the swells than she relinquished to limp away and lick their wounds. Taking on the waves when there were clear signs of a storm was willful foolishness, but Kisara couldn't bring herself to regret it.

She'd had to try it just once.

"Hurry it up yourself, Lioness! You want Calypso to claim your hide?"

A soft thump on the back of her head got Kisara moving again as Raph pulled ahead of her, his strong, powerful strokes eating up the distance as he paddled on. Dipping her hands into the water, Kisara continued her own journey back to the main islands; the waves at their island had been perfect today, but now the time had come for the ninety minute push home, and with only half the distance covered, and the storm biting at their heels, Kisara began to feel a sense of urgency nipping at her nerves.

Raph cursed softly as a particularly rough swell swept under his board; bracing herself, the eighteen year-old was able to ride the wave out slightly better than him, but she could feel how choppy the water was as it slid under the belly of the board. Looking back at her, Kisara just saw Raph's blue-grey eyes squint slightly as he called, "We're still a bit too far out from Kismet proper. Look Out's just a couple minutes ahead; we should hang there for a minute, wait things out."

Calling agreement, Kisara angled the board slightly, the change allowing her to cut a truer path to the rocky islet that was Look Out's Point. Within moments, she felt the sand scrubbing at the bottom of her board, and Kisara finally allowed her long, tanned legs to hit water as she climbed off her board. Turning around, she had just enough time to see a fin cutting through the water before it sank beneath the surface again. "Great," she muttered, pulling her board further on the sand as Raph did the same with his, "The storm sharks are out."

Checking her pack to make sure her clothes were still dry, she was about to say something else when Raph said, "Hey, what are you doing out here, Seth?"
 

Professor Ven

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Re: Kingdom Hearts: Night of Fate - Trial Run

Julian Santagar's muscled frame measured every hammer blow, as he worked the near-white hot metal into its contoured shape. Though he was skilled in various crafts and read in his spare time, always he left forge-work for when he had to think. People left him alone when he worked; very few could stand the constant peals of hammer on metal. Then again, most of his friends had migrated to other islands; Santagar still remained on the main island, alone.

People commented on the storm in town today. Hopefully it's nothing more than just the seasonal monsoon, even if it is a month earlier than usual; I would hate to listen to the children complain about not being able to go out into the waves. Fold seven times. He finished folding the metal, placing it back into the fire when necessary, and, quenching the metal into the barrel of water, placed the metal on a cooling rack. For tomorrow, or whenever I must think.

Hanging his apron and gloves on the rack next to his tools, Santagar passed a hand through his graying black hair, brushing stray locks back into their place; his beard bore similar resemblance, save that white began to show underneath his bottom lip and around his chin. He was a giant of a man - Julian had built his home, as it had been necessary, along with all of the furniture, except for the bathtub and sinks, which he had traded Lucian a marble bust of his wife, Verona; along with putting in some gilding in their home, in exchange for such commodities.

Santagar sat down in his favorite chair, sinking into its old folds, pulling a book from the bookshelf nearby, and a charcoal pencil. Flipping to the page he had been on before, he continued with the design of the metal he had been working, altering it, as the forge's fire slowly died down.

Bend in it needs more curve soon. Grind it down, gain the crescent form. Move along to the stars next week.

Santagar set the book and pen down, stretching his arms out as he moved out of the main door to his abode, tall and muscled frame blocking the sunlight as he passed through the doorway, enjoying the smell of the sea almost as much as that of burning coal.

He could remember the days spent swimming along the various reefs, the weeks spent putting together various gadgets and contraptions as his once-young and creative mind had been prone to do. And that one night . . . . For some reason, that particular memory always caused Santagar to shudder, even in the warmth of the day. It was only a dream, a far off memory. Nothing more.
 

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Re: Kingdom Hearts: Night of Fate - Trial Run

~- Calm Before the Storm -~

Snowdrop watched the waves rush up toward the shore before retreating again, it had been late in the morning when she decided heading to Look Out would be a smart move. It was after Mana had accidentally bumped into a member of the Crimson Dragons, and Snowdrop had been forced to do quite a bit of fast talking to soothe the bully's nerves and ego so he didn't attack the hyper thirteen-year-old that was under her watch. So, to calm her own nerves and to give Mana a chance to burn off some extra energy; the two girls had decided to head out to the small island.

Snow tilted her head to the side, trying to catch a faint trace of what had led her to the place she was currently at. Opening her eyes, a pale violet shade, which are frequently concealed behind whitish-silver hair; not that she minded at all. She'd somehow managed to roll her faded blue jeans up, so they resembled Capri; while on the top she was currently wearing a matching dark navy tank top. Hearing a sound behind her, she turned to see Mana picking her way toward her. Despite the young girl's insistence that she was fine, Snow wasn't at all thrilled by Mana being out here when a storm was brewing.

Shaking her head in frustration, she watched as the child held out a blue and black cloth. Raising an eyebrow, Snow held out her hand and watched as Mana dropped the bandanna into her waiting palm. "Where did you get this, Mana?" She asked, a surprised look flashing across her face before it was replaced with her typical blank look. It didn't take long for Mana to shrug and chirp cheerfully, "I found it in the sand, and I thought it belonged to you; you seem to like that kind of thing despite the gangs that move through town."

Yeah, she did happen to enjoy wearing bandannas; but even more so, she enjoyed the upbeat girl's company; especially since it seemed as if Mana was one of the few people that didn't consider her a freak or a witch, and thus didn't avoid her like the plague. Nodding in thanks, Snowdrop retied the cloth around her head, the triangular point near the back of her head. It didn't take her long to notice the mischievous gleam in Mana's eyes, growing concerned at it; the seventeen-year-old looked the younger girl up and down; trying to figure out what the other one had planned. Dismissing the concern from her mind for the time being, Snow smiled slightly and asked, "How about we see if your sister was reckless enough to come out here?"

"Sure!"

Smiling at the cheerful answer, Snow slowly drifted after the other girl as Mana darted across the sand in search of Kisara.
 
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Von83194

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Re: Kingdom Hearts: Night of Fate - Trial Run

Izzuko groaned as he pulled his boat up the beach. If this storm was as bad as everyone said it would be, he wouldn't want his family's prized possession drifting off to sea. Queen of the Sea his father had named the boat. It was times like now that he wished his father was here to help him, as he had helped his father so long ago. After he pulled the boat up and tied it down next to the shack that he used for supplies, he stood, wiping the sweat from his brow, and stared out at the ocean. He saw dark storm clouds on the horizon, the water choppy as wind picked up. His medium length black hair looked rather unruly, and kinda looked like a lions mane when combined with his thick sideburns and strong winds.


Izzuko Makina, or Izzy as he was often called by the islanders, was a generally well liked fisherman on Kismet. His prices were never to high, he always had the freshest fish, and he always tried to cater to his customers. You want half a fish? He would cut it for you. Want your fish skinned and boned? He would do it all in front of you, to make sure it was to your liking. It was something he learned from his father. "If your customer's happy, you'll be happy." He always told Izzy whenever they went together to sell what they'd caught that day.


With a sigh, Izzy walked away from the beach, toward a small path into the forest. He took a deep breath, smelling the crisp ocean air, and the flowers that his mother had planted so long ago. His father took it hard when she died in the last storm. He saw it as his fault, while he himself had been injured as well. Izzy was 15 then, and ever since he'd taken over for his father, fishing, and giving the people what they wanted. He arrived at a medium sized hut, his home, and walked inside. Before he could even close the door, he could hear his father's gruff voice from the back, "Did ya' bring her up?" "Yeah dad," Izzy replied, making sure all the windows and doors were secured. "Tied her down and everything." He could already tell, tonight was going to be a hell of a night.
 
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Re: Kingdom Hearts: Night of Fate - Trial Run

Seth was drowning... drowning and being pulled even deeper beneath the waves, beneath the islands, beneath the ocean floor... and there was a voice, and it was saying...

"...what are you doing out here, Seth?"


Guh!

Seth gasped for breath as he jerked awake, but of course he wasn't drowning, he was lying on his back in the sun. Only now he wasn't alone. Two older kids had come up on the beach of the small island, both of them dragging boards behind them. Seth remembered the girl's name was Kisara; he couldn't recall the boy's name. They were too old for Seth to hang out with normally, though he had played with their younger sister, Mana, when both of them were younger.

"I was, uh, I was..." Seth took a couple of deep breaths, trying to get that unsettling feeling of drowning out. "It was so weird," he continued, "I was lying on the beach, when this huge, black THING swallowed me up! I couldn't breathe, I couldn't...." He stopped short, suddenly embarrassed to get so carried away in front of these teenagers. About a DREAM of all things. Or was it a dream? It had felt so real....

Seth looked back at the two boarders, then quickly looked away again. They were both staring at him now, and he couldn't tell from their expressions whether they were amused, concerned, or somewhere in between. He couldn't blame them. What WAS he doing out here?

Apparently having nightmares like some little kid he thought.

Seth grimaced and continued to avert his gaze. The water around the island had gotten choppier, but the clouds maintained their threatening distance. He couldn't tell from the sun how much time had passed since he had apparently conked out.

What was that place? So bizarre.
 
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Dari

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Re: Kingdom Hearts: Night of Fate - Trial Run

Gavin had certain standards that his diabolic mind needed to live up to. The crashing waves were but the sonnet that echoed fluidly through his ears, how he tried to make sense of the sound. An odd one, with a very unattractive and unappealing smile, it only made him appear to have the mindset of a sinister no good-nick. Do away with the old standards, set newer, better ones. Things his mother would tell him, so much he'd scoff and remain as stationary as ever. No child, teen, or even adult completely adheres to what they're told as if they're no different than a machine.

How he made his dark humor a very dominant personality trait, but as the smile returned into a fiery grin. He stood a short cut, raven-haired teenager, potentially age seventeen in appearance alone. In school uniform, the guys were plainer than the girls, they wore blue dress pants, and short sleeved white collared shirts. Pants had to be fastened by their belts, shirts tucked in respectively, but after school Gavin was terminally chill about dress code and his shirt was almost always half tucked in off to one side. The youth had a passion for parkour, most of which was learned through years of practice, as a hobby initially.

As Gavin teetered on the hanging edge of the jagged rocks, the waves crashing against them he gaped into the sea. As if his imagination were playing tricks on him, the youth found himself jump off from the highest rock and crashing straight down into the water. Holding his breathe, he stood on the very surface almost fearful of opening his eyes, but he could see in the crystal clear waters, just enough. There was a pull, the current as the signs of storm clouds were off in the stance, he swam towards the shoreline beneath the water as he held his breath steadfast against the body of water. With strong arms and legs, he was no different than a semi-professional swimmer through the water.

His head emerged with a large gasp for air as he'd been soaked, his head above water and walking from where the tide raced past his ankles. A group of his peers beginning to quickly form this close to the water. Coughing up the taste of salt was far from a pleasantry he'd imagined with taking a dive into the waters. His light pants escaped his breath as he attuned his ears to one alone, banter and babble about a dream he'd had. Hostility felt by the water however, felt more like an omen, and Gavin apparently tested this theory no more than mere moments ago.

I won't be doing that again.
 
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Re: Kingdom Hearts: Night of Fate - Trial Run

The sea that enclosed Kismet was starting to beginning to turn turbulent, and the skies were threatening to completely blacken and swallow the sky whole. The weather was obviously going to be bad soon, yet a lone girl named Chizuma had decided to take a small makeshift raft out into the rumbling waters. “Whahaha!” Her near inhuman sized mouth cackled, her wide grin casting a reflection in the water. A passing fish caught a glimpse of her pale face, and bolted off as if someone had just tossed TNT into the sea. “Fufu, go on and run, you aren't the one I’m looking for anyway!” Chizuma cackled again. She was in high spirits today, she had just finished the final touches on a new invention of hers, and she couldn't wait to see it in action. This wasn’t her first invention. Chizuma was a tinkerer through and through, a grease head that spent much of her time toiling in her workshop. Around her waist was a hefty purple utility belt, which held many of her complex and often manic creations. The device that she was testing today was perfect for fishing. At least it was in her warped mind. An ominous grey fin poked out of the water, Chizuma spotted it, and promptly got as giddy as a schoolgirl that had just taken a bath in a vat of coffee.

She reached for the sail of her raft, extending an attached pole that had a slab of meat hung from a string on it. It was a trap, though not the creation she was testing today. The grey fin approached more quickly now. Chizuma waited impatiently, a foot tapping rapidly and an eye twitching in anticipation. The fin reached it’s mark, and in a flash of splashed water a three foot shark leaped upwards towards the free meal. A gleam shined in Chizuma’s eyes, and in a split second she took what looked like a gun from a cheesy science fiction flick from her utility belt, and pulled the trigger. Instead of lead, a thick green goo shot out from the gun’s barrel, ensnaring the shark in midair. “GOTCHA.” Chizuma reeled the shark onto her boat, releasing the goopy hold on it and tying it’s mouth shut with some rope. “The teeth on you guys are pretty useful ya know? Me and you are gonna have some good times together.” Chizuma smiled at the small shark, which one could swear was sweating in fear.

~~~~~​

After reaching the shore Chizuma had gone into town to head for home. She was running across the rooftops, as this was gang territory and she didn't feel like getting into a meaningless scuffle today. It was also fun and made her feel like an urban ninja, but that was just a bonus. It was while she was sliding down a tiled roof that she spotted a small group of red shirted people, along with a rather dulled colored Leroy in the midst of them. She just so happened to know Leroy, so when he spotted him she shouted his name. Her focus on her footing vanished, and she tripped and fell off the tiled roof. The shark that she had been carrying under her arm flew from her grasp, and she hit the ground with a thud. The reds were clearly taken aback from the sight, though that wasn't the only thing that shocked them.

The leader of the Verdant Smiles had just dropped in. Her identity was unmistakable. Long green hair that only ended at her knees, tied at the end by a magenta bead, a silk green shirt that revealed her midriff, along with flowing green jeans, it was the assumed leader of the greens alright. She was the assumed leader if only because the group had only grown through sheer popularity. The Smiles were all about having fun and making the most out of life. So what they dabbled in a few unscrupulous activities such as street racing and tagging. There was hardly and traffic on this island anyway, and the architecture was a bore. The Crimson Dragons were a whole other story. They didn’t care very much about fun, all they cared about was getting their way, damn whomever got in their way. Robbery, theft, jaywalking, these guys were pretty hardcore.

Chizuma slowly got to her feet, letting out a muffled giggle. As she rose to her feet she turned to face the small crowd. The faces of many of the reds went white.


“What the heck? I-Is that a shark in her mouth!?”

“Where did that even come from?”

Chizuma blinked a few times in surprise, looking down she saw her fresh catch wiggling in her mouth. She spat the shark out, and tossed it into a nearby barrel of water. She looked to Leroy, ignoring the reds. “Yo Leroy! How’s it hangin’?”
 

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Re: Kingdom Hearts: Night of Fate - Trial Run

Good Ol' Kal.

He hated that name.

Not the Kal part, oh no. Better than his full name, even his family stumbled on that one, but the other two. He never gave selflessly, there was no time he helped without a profit, and in no part of the story of his life is there a single line of text detailing an act of random kindness. Not that "Bad Ol' Kal" would be any better, that didn't fit him either. Sure, he wasn't nice without reason or merciful without cause, but heartless isn't accurate either. He simply did things for a reason. For the greater good? Sometimes, when that good gave compensation or some prestige. For feeling warm and fuzzy? Naw, but for satisfaction and entertainment? Definitely. The Ol’ was slapped on just because it had a ring to it.

The young survivor of 17 years made his way down an alleyway, long legs carrying him in a relaxed but speedy manner. He knew about the storm, and how it would be the storm of all storms, the horizon filled with its existence. Almost everyone on Kismet knew that, and yet the island still thrived. The respectable citizens locked their doors, boarded their windows and maybe prayed. Replacing them on the streets were the gangs, running through the alleys and streets like blood through veins. A flash of red paused in front of Kal, prompting him to wave his hand, a blur of the matching color appearing for a second between the two, the red continuing on his way. Not three seconds later, a pack of green found themselves next to the teen wearing a dark blue zip-up hoodie, the smiling face they saw only worn as the design, keyhole eyes staring out soullessly and keyed teeth set in a grin. Furrowed brows ceased existing when another hand and another blur calmed their nerves and let them continue on their hunt.

Looking down, he saw his pants spattered with mud from the goons' haste. White lines crisscrossing up the black legs dirtied with brown, a mark on what was pure only seconds ago. Almost poetic. Pulling his hood down, Kal made his way towards the calmer district not yet filled with the gangs. Hood suddenly pulled off and short brown hair exposed, a light smile spread across his face. A few steps took him to a lovely home, a few knocks bringing the owner to the door. Words exchanged, a package delivered and payment collected. This happened seven more times before his job was done. A hooded journey through another iffy section of the town brought him to one last house, windows boarded heavily.

Taking a deep breath in, the knob was turned ever so slowly, sweat forming on the boy's brow. Lifting up on the door he knew so well, a crack silently formed between it and the frame, allowing a fearful search for the horror he knew was inside. Hazel eye pushed up against the frame, the room where his bane thrived in was found empty. Pushing the door inward, Kal took a step inside and slowly closed it behind him. A sigh of relief was his doom, the second it escaped his lips is the second that set it all in motion. There was a stir to his left, and he didn't bother to look before a figure barreled into Kal, both of them landing hard on the wooden floor.

"Don't think it’s gonna be that easy, Kal. You know me better than that."
"Come on now, you didn't have to tackle me. Mom's gonna throw a fit if you left a dent."
"The storm's coming, we'll just blame it on that."
"Whatever. And you mean you'll blame it on that. I wasn't the one who decided to slam a family member down to the ground."
"Blah blah blah. Hey, we need more planks for the windows, call in a favor with Melvin or something."
"I know you know it isn't that simple. He needs that wood as much as we do."
"Fine, swipe it from one of those abandoned houses then. Just make sure it isn't so rotten that it falls apart when you bring it back."
"Why can't you?"
"Because you have our ‘passport’ and, quite honestly, I already get enough looks from those minions when the weather is normal."

With a grunt and rubbing the arm he landed on, Kal got up and looked at his sister. A single year is what separated them, and everyone always confused who came first, her face young and his build big and mature. The eldest laid there, head propped up by an arm and showing no intention of lifting a single finger to help. Stretching out his legs and thinking about which house to strip, his eyes locked onto the approaching storm. It's probably going to be a close call, between transportation and picking out what doesn't break on contact.

Oh well, let’s do this.

Hand on the knob once again, Kal took his last even breath, readying himself for quite the sprint. Throwing the door open, he made his way out of the house, legs pumping and multi-colored cloth in hand. Darting around corners, the next turn always planned before the current one was completed, he was in his element. Red met with red, green met with green, eyes taking in everything there was to see after every corner passed.

But then a lovely package fell down from the sky above, green hair flowing freely in a moment of freedom. As her feet touched down, Kal’s slipped, black tennis shoes losing traction in a puddle and sending his tall and athletic build to the ground. Panic filled his mind for a moment, but then a smile slinked its way onto his face. Digging a heel into the ground, Kal twisted and passed ahead of Chizuma with a wink before breaking through the heavily rotted door just past her, disappearing into the house.

Totally worth the pain.
 

Orion

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Re: Kingdom Hearts: Night of Fate - Trial Run

Leroy could never fathom how someone so whimsical and rambunctious became the de facto leader of a gang - admittedly, not one with rigid structures nor heirarchies, but with a figurehead so eccentric as Chizuma nevertheless. She's clearly made a catch, a small shark with mouth tied and rough skin mottled green that, in the few seconds between it leaving Chizuma's grasp and finding the water-barrel's surface, Leroy could see was more rigid than usual - clearly another one of Chizuma's gadgets.
She'd call it an invention, but truth be told much of what she claimed as her own designs were inspired if not partially worked on by Leroy and Garl - another favour they payed to the Verdant Smiles, if for no other reason than them being the lesser of two evils.

"Oh, same old," his rough voice came out, "plus a little escalation."

He hefted the weapon off his shoulder as he brought it to bear in front of him, six blades pointing to the centre of the group that faced him, carried smoothly and held still with surprising poise despite its weight. "Reds here are so stupid they don't like getting better gear with their new provider that they want a refund!" Everyone present knew it was a lie, but more than anything Leroy was looking to agitate the Dragons, force them into combat so that her didn't have to be the initiator, and with them angered it might give Leroy a small edge over them.

Six reds versus six blades, plus whatever Chizuma cared to throw into the mix - grab the shark and start whacking them with it? Leroy smirked at the imagery of the Dragons being beaten into submission with a fish, as the first of them advanced slowly, a machete with a hook at the top if its blunter edge in hand.

"Your pa's the idiot, thinking he could play us with no problems," and at the last word he came within striking distance and lunged forward. Two things occurred, mental and physical - Leroy recognised the voice of the boy coming at him, James, a kid in the school's workshop classes Leroy was an apprentice teacher in, and that was probably all that stopped Leroy from getting violent in turn. The second thing involved Leroy retreating with his leading foot and bringing his weapon into a diagonal block, gripped in both hands with the guard presented forward.

James' blade slipped between the gaps in Leroy's six, and the elder of the two turned the weapon along its axis, first simply halting its progress as the machete's hilt rammed up against Leroy's blades. A split second later, when James tried to withdraw the weapon, it was clear the minute turn had caused the hook to be caught, and this time twisting the whole weapon Leroy wrenched the machete free from James' grasp, and with a wide, single-handed swing up and to his right, launched the blade away from the conflict and through the second-story window of an abandoned house.

Leroy saw the tremble in James' eye that showed he wanted to flee, now unarmed, but he saved face with his crew by simply withdrawing behind the rest of them. Pushing the image of offense - more for show than actual violence - he brought the weapon back into a horizontal stance, right hand holding, left forearm bracing, and he charged after James between the ranks of the other five as they parted ways for their comrade. James stumbled when he thought Leroy was coming after him, and the mechanic's son used the other's faltering step to but him in the back with his elbow and send him sprawling.

As he slowed to turn, Leroy took his bracing arm away from the blades and brought it to the hilt of the weapon. With his left hand he gripped a secondary handle the weapon held, extending out of the hilt on the side opposite the handguard. Turning now, he gave it a twist of ninety degrees, and the shudder of the motor starting up disturbed an otherwise smooth pirouette, but when Leroy faced the gang of six, his matching number of blades had turned from stationary isolation to a sharp, unified cyclone, five hundred revolutions per minute. On one side they faced that, and now on the other the leader of the Verdant Smiles. He gave a sly half-smile and a wink to Chizuma, inviting her to make the next move as the Dragons weighed up their chances and options.
 

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Re: Kingdom Hearts: Night of Fate - Trial Run

"Afternoon, Julian. Is the weather going to be so jovial as it is now, or is it just a reflection of your demeanor? The storm has been creeping up on us like the time you snuck up on my sister to ask for her to dance; and that was fifteen years ago. I'd prefer not to go through the same thing with nature's version of awkward, silent, emotionally explosive you." A voice uttered in a morose, sarcastic, depressed tone, and Julian Santagar turned to face his approacher.


Theros Augur was a slim, lanky fellow, always light on his feet, and quick, as Julian remembered well, from the times that they would spar as children, with wooden swords. Theros himself had blonde hair, the style of which changed as the dandy desired whenever it was cut - as of now, however, it was cut short in a clean-looking manner - and blue eyes, which looked up to meet Julian's green.

The two of them had always been at a difference of sorts, in one way or another; where Julian had remained on the main island of Kismet (on the far side, in the more well-to-do part of the landmass, and on the opposite side of the gang riffraff) and become one of the premier craftsmen and smiths, Theros instead had become a sort of traveling merchant, though he also fulfilled his duty as a surgeon, moving about the islands both as the wind took him, and if he was called to a specific place.

Theros always dressed well and stayed clean-shaven; there was never a day in the past seven years that Julian had not seen his friend dressed in the style of the upper class; the silks and satin and coats were never too far from Master Augur's body. The only thing that remained constant, however, was the particular reddish leather shoes that Theros wore - a joke had once been made that he never took them off. That, and a thin sword which he wore on his right side. Foot and a half-long blade, folded a hundred times, and still the slimmest blade I've ever made.

"What brings you to this side of the island, surgeon?" Julian's soft, rumbling voice muttered. "Oh, you know, popping in for a visit before I have to go put people back together. Got word of violence on the other side of the island. People with the mentality of wearing a certain color makes you want to stab or otherwise murder someone with a different color. This color's evil, this one's good, that whole buggery." Theros replied, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. "Care to join me, or are you backed up on orders as you were when last I passed through? We can always go fishing or the like afterwards, depending on the weather."

"Of course, Theros; and no, my hands have gotten quicker." Julian went back inside and packed his things, gathering various pouches to place on his belt, along with tools, his sketchbook, and his largest hammer. Santagar hefted the large weapon over his shoulder as he locked his door, and Theros' slim form ambled beside the giant smith, as they made their way to the other side of the island, prepared for gore.
 

OmniChaos

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Re: Kingdom Hearts: Night of Fate - Trial Run

"Hey, hey, what's all this now?"

There existed two rival gangs on Kismet. There was the green-clad Verdant Smiles, who cared only about fun and, as they claimed, 'making the most out of life.' Their leader, Chizuma, was a perfect reflection of their rambunctious and carefree attitude. However, to some, the word 'leader' would be too generous a term, as many saw her as simply a mascot that rallied the gang. Then there was the other gang: the red-clad Crimson Dragons. The Dragon's actions far exceeded the mere mischief of the Verdant Smiles and were considered by most as criminal. Robbery, vandalizing, even a few mysterious deaths were thought connected to the Crimson Dragons. And at their head was Randall.

"Now, now, Leroy, put your little toy away before you hurt yourself. Despite my subordinate's stupid, stupid, stupid actions, rest assured that I wish to see no blood shed nor any agreement broken. Discussion is all I seek."

The twenty year old man appeared from the open doorway of a nearby house, which had been abandoned for a great while. The man's presence alone flipped the Dragon's heavy unease into a relieved cockiness as they scurried to his side like a pack of loyal dogs to their alpha. When James reached him, Randall backhanded him across the face, strong enough to make him stumble, but not to fall over completely. "I don't recall ordering you to attack him, you stupid idiot."

Randall stood much taller than those around him, most of which who were still in school or were the age where they should be in school. Rarely was he found with a shirt, proudly displaying his muscular physique and 'battle scars'--which, in truth, were simply a few semi-deep cuts he had acquired in brawls. His pants loudly boasted the bright red of the Crimson Dragons, a small chain running from a belt loop to his pocket. Unlike the other Dragons, Randall's red bandanna was not atop his raven hair, but instead tied around his right arm.

"Come now, Leroy," the man smiled. Anyone could tell that it was a wolf's smile. Randall ran his tongue across his bottom lip, pausing for a second on the silver ring that pierced the right side of it. "We have no quarrel with you or your father. Our's lies with the Greenies and their little mascot over there. From one businessman to another, I simply want what is due to us. Give us that, and all will be forgotten and forgiven. No strings."
 
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Re: Kingdom Hearts: Night of Fate - Trial Run

“Escalation?” Chizuma tilted her head at Leroy, following the direction of his odd weapon. It was pointed towards half a dozen reds, Crimson Dragon members. Chizuma’s grinning expression turned flat, making her look both bored and annoyed. “Oh yeah, I forgot you guys existed for a second, can’t you be killjoys somewhere else?” She let out a sigh, though she refused to let the Dragons ruin her mood today. Leroy edged the small group on, resulting in an exchange of heated words, and then a clash of steel. Chizuma gave Leroy an impressed whistle as he managed to disarm James. The blade crashed through a nearby window, which she hoped was empty. Leroy gave her a wink, which was a clear signal for her to join the fray.

Chizuma was texting on her cell phone.

“Oh, uh, go on and start without me, I’ll be there in a sec.” She said, her fingers flying across the buttons on her phone. She had just finished sending her message when another problem showed up. Randall, the leader of the Crimson Dragons. The man was effectively the polar opposite to Chizuma. Always so serious, always so… ‘anti-fun.’ Thankfully he hadn't shown up to incite more violence, at least not yet. He asked Leroy to put away his weapon, and to let him take her. She wasn't sure what he had planned for her, but it couldn't be pleasant. Chizuma shivered as she saw Randall lick his lips, it looked like fear, though she was actually imagining how painful it must have been to get his tongue pierced. “Don’t give in to the peer pressure Leroy, I know Randall may look cool, but it’s all a front!” She spoke inspiring words to him, and then turned to the red’s leader.

“Jeez, what happened to you Randy? You used to be so adorable. Remember that time you promised to make me your bride? Those were better times for sure…” She let out a forced nostalgic sigh, actually not sure if that was true or if she were making it up. Regardless, she held up a palm, motioning for him and his goons to hold still. “But that doesn't matter now, what does matter is that I just sent the word out to every member of the Smiles to come here, they should be arriving ANY moment now, fufufu.” Chizuma chuckled like an aristocratic villain, just as her reinforcements did in fact show up on a nearby rooftop.

Only one person showed up. A fairly lanky preteen boy by the name of Kyle.

“K-Kyle!? Where are everyone else!?” Chizuma cried.

“Umm… I told them to come, but they’re all too busy.”

“Busy doing WHAT!?”

“…Having fun, they said a fight didn't seem like a good time.”

There was a pretty hard lump in Chizuma’s throat right now. “Well, you’re here to help at least, right?” She asked in desperation.

“Sorry boss, but fights aren't really my thing. I’m just here to give you the message.” With that Kyle slinked off, leaving a very nervous Chizuma behind. She coughed into the a balled up fist, staying as cheerful as possible.

“S-so Randy… Weird weather we’re having right?.... haha….” She muttered, only to suddenly hold out her hands to be taken away. She could try to run away, but there was no telling what would happen to Leroy, and there was a good chance someone could be killed if they tried to create an all-out brawl here.”You win, you big bully.” She said, putting on the best crocodile tears she could.
 

Story Keeper

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Re: Kingdom Hearts: Night of Fate - Trial Run

~- It Can Creep Up Inside -~

Mana dashed across the sand, blue eyes scanned her surroundings for a very familiar head of hair. She knew Kisara was around here somewhere, and she wanted to talk to her older sister about something. Sure, she may have only been thirteen (on the verge of turning fourteen); she knew that even if she was treated as a kid that at least Kisara would take her seriously. "Mana, get back here!" She distantly registered the order that was issued, but she didn't quite care.

Pushing herself harder, Mana swerved around a tree to avoid colliding with it; silently thankful for her slim frame again. Hearing a soft oath uttered from Snowdrop, alerting her the older teen was forced to twist out of the way of the same tree. Mana felt her head start pounding in time to her heart; which only served to make her run faster, even though that made it even worse. Eyes snapping around again, she frowned as she saw no sign of Kisara.

Mana distantly registered the way her pink and silver hoodie seemed to fit closer than usual; nor the way her light pink skirt clung a little closer to her knees, only to shove it into a dark corner of her mind. "What's going on, Mana? Why are you running so fast?" She knew that Snow was only considered, and yet that wasn't at all important to her, not at the moment anyway.

Shaking her head, Mana called over her shoulder, "You know that storm that's brewing? I can't explain why, but it doesn't feel like the usual summer rainstorm we get this time a year. And even if it wasn't for that, Raph's probably with Kisara, and I don't like him at the moment."

She knew that would surprise anyone who heard it. After all, Mana normally adored Raph, but she didn't trust him. Spotting her sister, Mana put on one last burst of speed as she saw Kisara coming closer to the beach. Tackling her sister as soon as she stepped away from the board, Mana piped up, "You're here!"

Letting her sister go, Mana took a step back and tried to catch her breath after her sprint. After she was certain she had it back, she looked between all three of the older teens and asked warmly, "So, how much do you want to bet we're in big trouble when we go home?" Throwing a quick look over her shoulder, Mana frowned slightly as she saw that Snow was hanging back quite a bit; clearly unsure of if she'd be welcomed or not in their group.

It seemed like it was only a moment later before Kisara decided to start paddling out again; clearly saying that she was going to be heading back. Sighing in exasperation, Mana looked at the others, waved for a moment before she jogged over to catch up to her sister so they could head home before the weather got much worse.
 
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Eternal Dream

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Re: Kingdom Hearts: Night of Fate - Trial Run

~- Something in Between -~

"I was, uh, I was... It was so weird, I was lying on the beach, when this huge, black THING swallowed me up! I couldn't breathe, I couldn't...."

Raphael raised a dark eyebrow, a slight bit of concern showing in the action. Great, a storm was coming in, one that had the looks of being a real number, and this kid had clearly gotten too much sun. Before Raph could say anything about Seth's ramble session, a soft laugh broke the stillness of the air. Turning a quick look at Kisara, Raph could see that she was having a hard time holding back the giggles by the shine in her blue and gold eyes. He had to suppress an eye roll as Kisara said, "It's called falling asleep on the beach with a storm coming, Seth. Who hasn't had a drowning dream when they've done that?"

And as usual, the girl had no clue just how damn gorgeous she was while she said this. Not one who had much use for staying inside, Kisara was bronzed deeply from the sun, her hair, already a pale shade of blond, had been bleached nearly white by the same light that had tanned her long limbs. She was fearless, with a quick temper softened by her even quicker smiles, an inclination to easy laughter, and a fiercely protective nature. They'd been friends for years, ever since her parents had moved into the house three doors down from his own, but there were some things about her that Raph was only just noticing in a new light. How her lips quirked into the suggestion of a half smile when she found something close to amusing, the way her eyes seemed to dilate when she was excited, like she was trying to take in as much information as possible.

How he felt like throttling any guy that had the guts to talk to her for more than five seconds, Seth included...

Shaking his head, Raph looked away from Seth and Kisara for a moment, scanning the ocean. The waves were growing choppier, but he had a feeling they could still make it if they pushed. Noting a couple figures on the beach, Raph narrowed his eyes, trying to make out who it was despite the distance. "Now, who'd be stupid enough to be out on the beach at a time like this?" He muttered.

Despite how quite his voice had been, a huff from Kisara told him what she thought of his comment. "Uh, Raph? Are they the ones at Look Out cause they're trying to out run the storm they'd been using to catch some waves off of earlier? I'd say we're the idiots here, not them. Besides," Kisara slid a hand over her eyes as she looked to shore, squinting for a moment as she tried to see, "I think it might be Mana and a friend of hers there."

"How do you know it's the demented bunny?" Having forgotten his unreasonable irritation with Seth from just a moment earlier, Raph looked over to see that Kisara had already hopped back down to where they'd put their boards.

Strapping the tether to her ankle, Kisara quipped, "Because there's only two 'demented bunnies' that hyper on Kismet, and I really don't think Chizuma would be hopping around trying to get our attention? I'm telling you, it's Emmy; call it a big sister's intuition, if you want."

Yeah, and Raph knew what that intuition meant; Kisara might be willing to play a game of chicken when it came to a bit of fun, but she was all business when it came to Mana's safety. Knowing that the break was over, Raph let Kisara start paddling out into the waves as he turned back to look at Seth. Eyeing the kid up and down, Raph remembered hearing that Seth was pretty much the best swimmer of the kids his age, and considering the fact that they were all Islanders, that also meant that he could handle choppy water too. But still...

"You know, we should both head back before the water becomes impossible." Raph shrugged a bit as he jerked his head back, indicating his board. "I could give you a lift if you want; the sharks are always out in numbers just before a storm, and a ride on a board would be a lot safer than swimming back. Your choice, kid."
 

Ordeith

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Re: Kingdom Hearts: Night of Fate - Trial Run

With just a thought, he pulled the clouds into existence. The simplest, slightest motion was all he needed—a wide upward stroke—and wispy cirrus clouds crept into the scenery. Careless brushstrokes turned his whim into reality, wrapping a fluffy white halo around the mountains.

A simple fix. Nothing too heavy, nothing too bold...
A quick daub of titanium white, and a few more strokes yielded a few more clouds.

The mountain chain still held precedence, drawing the eye before anything else. Now, however, the whitecaps had a nice feathery wreath around them; they didn't want to tear off the canvas anymore. Nothing, the painter thought, is quite so jarring as a mountain without something to clothe it—just enough to look decent. Indeed, mountains without mist often had the unnatural sharpness of a postcard, ready to stab the viewer in the eye as he opened his mail.

He smirked. Not my mountains. With just a few brushstrokes, the piece had finally come together as Bryant hoped it would. He pushed the easel, with care, off to the side. Its legs tracked new lines in the floor's accumulated dust, which stirred and glittered low in the window-light. The mountains took their place beside tranquil lakes, flowering plains, and quite a few pine forests—in short, everything except the Kismet shoreline which Bryant saw every day. As always, that window view reminded him that he ought to paint the prime-real-estate scenery for which he had paid so much.

Not yet. Sometime, when the sky is just right...

That was his default self-excuse, and it had proven good enough to stall him for ten years. To fifty-eight-year-old Bryant Seyward, present owner of the old house on the hill, it was a luxury to spend time in imaginary places—wherever the spirit of the day took him.

But today, the Kismet sky was just wrong. It was the darkest Bryant had ever seen it—but more than that, it was churning and twisting upon itself, impatiently. Unnaturally. The clouds, so different from the white puffs on his canvas, promised a return of the storm that first welcomed him to the islands. He thought back to that awful day, so black it could have been night...

His mouth tightened into a hard, flat line. And I still need to visit the store.

___________________________________________________​

Mr. Seyward was a peculiar man, but well regarded by the community. He lived alone in the town's oldest house—no spouse, no children, no pets, and few visitors. But his isolation was not the product of his personality: Bryant Seyward read and wrote, played and listened to music, and painted. He pursued each of these hobbies to its fullest, waking up early and working through the day at his own pace. A month's work produced at least three new additions to his private gallery—or his library, or his music stand.

It kept him mostly indoors, and his company limited to the few who crossed his artistic path. He had made gifts of his paintings, though; he always donated some original compositions to the local music festival. So his presence was felt quietly throughout the community.

Most would have called him a homebody, if they didn't see him walking across town every week. The trim little man would don his wide-brimmed hat, throw a light jacket around his shoulders, and tote his cloth shopping bag to every store on his list. Bryant took a leisurely pace. He never passed a familiar face without a word, and he had the rare ability to maintain a conversation with just about anybody. Even residents of the other side of town—where he bought his paints—occasionally stopped to chat with the grey-bearded man in the brown leather hat.

Today, though Seyward was his same amicable self, there was no conversation to be had. Everyone had already taken note of the storm, and holed up inside their homes. The trip to the paint supply store was a lonely one, for once.

He passed the time by cycling through the list of paints he needed—and all the different nature scenes he had in mind. Yellow ochre for the trees . . . some phthalo blue, titanium white. Bryant turned another glance back at the clouds. Perhaps a bottle of charcoal black, too.

___________________________________________________​

"—Well, I'll certainly have to bring them around, one of these days! I see a wall that looks awfully bare."

"Sounds like a plan, Mr. S! Can't wait to see it!"

"So long, Samantha. Try not to get caught in this weather—close early, if you can."
Bryant waved farewell to the store clerk, and shouldered his bag full of paints.

He proceeded back down the street, out of the dim little plaza, past a few deserted residences. Given the surrounding area, he was half-convinced that the paint shop got by largely through his patronage. Even now, he could hear the makings of another street brawl, somewhere in the surrounding maze of streets. Voices were raised, and the clash of metal against metal pealed out above the buildings.

Bryant turned the corner to the sight of a gathering crowd—all red-clad youths, huddled together on the far end of the street. One shouted with the grandstanding air of a leader, at a poor boy clutching his face in pain. The Kismet gangs were, to Bryant's mind, little more than a negative outlet for teenage energy...

...but he saw a sliver of green betwixt the red shirts and bandanas: Chizuma, a girl with whom he had chatted on several occasions on the way to the grocer. He knew from those few conversations that she and her friends were far from violent criminals. But seven-to-one odds wouldn't favor even a hardened felon.

No good will come of it . . . but, come evening, we'll all have more important things to worry about. Bryant started off in their direction.

He reached into his bag blindly, and retrieved a tube of paint. Charcoal black.
With the graceful clumsiness of a stage actor, Bryant let the tube slide out of his hand, across the dry pavement. It landed squarely between the legs of a crimson-clad youth, giving cause for all of them to look back down the street.

"Oh! I'm sorry about that," he called out. "Would you mind tossing that back to me, son? I'd like to stash all this away before the storm hits." His tone was light and chatty, as always. Not once did it verge into anything approaching reprimand—or even an awareness of what was taking place.
 
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Re: Kingdom Hearts: Night of Fate - Trial Run

Seth’s face burned a deeper shade of crimson. Not only was he being told off, he was being told off by the prettiest girl on the island. Seth was careful to keep his eyes averted, not just from Kisara but from the older boy too. Something about that one....

Relief came in the form of a human catapult, when Mana, of all people, came out of nowhere and barreled into her sister. So much for this being ‘my island’ Seth thought glumly. Seemed like the whole island was turning out. And on the verge of a storm?

While Mana and her older sister disentangled themselves, Mana happily spouting off conversation as she got her breath back, Seth took opportunity of the distraction to get a better grip on his surroundings. Raph –that was his name, Raphael- was standing a little apart from the girls, looking annoyed for some reason Seth couldn’t guess. Looking farther back from where Mana had come, Seth caught a pale glimpse of another girl before she slipped behind a tree. Seth suppressed a small shudder. Her. Seth didn’t know her properly, but all the other boys on the island told weird stories about her and kept their distance. It was a common dare to catcall her if she were walking by. The Witch, that’s what all the boys called her. Seth didn’t know why Mana had taken to hanging out with her, but they didn’t see much of each other anyway lately.

“We’re heading back,” he heard Kisara say, and looked up in time to see her grab her board and start paddling out with her sister in tow. Seth barely had time for a twinge of regret before Raph was addressing him again.

“You know, we should both head back before the water becomes impossible.” Seth just stared at him dumbly for a second. How could he let him know that he wasn’t going back? He couldn’t go back—not yet. Not with the storm coming. How could he make that make sense?

“Your choice, kid.”

“Wha-? I, uh...” Seth was floundering for words again. It wasn’t just shyness. Seth was uneasy. Ever since the storm had started building the day before, a heavy ball had been forming in the pit of Seth’s stomach, equal parts excitement and disquiet. He knew, he just knew, something of significance was going to happen. The clouds were bringing more than just rain. And –but this was the weirdest part of all—he felt like he had missed out on something ten years before. When the last big storm had hit the island, there had been an opportunity for something, but Seth had been too young to grasp it. That wasn’t going to happen this time. That’s why Seth was out here, to meet the storm.

“No,” he said, finding his voice again. “No, I’m staying out here. I can make it back on my own.” This time he met the older boy’s gaze, sea-green eyes meeting blue-grey, almost but not quite challenging.
Raphael was wrong. This was more than just Seth’s choice. This was destiny.
 

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Re: Kingdom Hearts: Night of Fate - Trial Run

Randal's arrival had made things more interesting. Kyle's brief appearance added the most meager illusion of assistance before departing just as quickly. He wanted some way to get Chizuma out safely, but was well aware that between just the two of them that wasn't entirely likely. When Chizuma feigned her surrender - reflective of a piss-taking attitude in the face of dire odds Leroy always admired - he wound down the revolutions of his weapon until they were stationary. It seemed all the focus of the Dragon grunts was on their leader, and Randall stared intently between Leroy and Chizuma, gauging the potential actions of the former and weighing up in his mind exactly what Chizuma was playing at if she was actually turning herself in.

Leroy knew the Dragons as a motley lot loosely arranged around vaguely-directed violence and dangerous leisure, there were as many ways to get something out of the Dragons as there were members in the group, but Leroy knew the leader to have some greater sense of direction, for himself if not for the whole of his flock. He was sure Randall's politeness at the moment was totally a show, not a genuine reflection of his emotions at all, but it did tell him he was in a mood to not jump immediately to violence, which was good enough for Leroy.

It was his spacial awareness - in micro and macro - that saw Leroy follow in his father's footsteps as a mechanic, possessing a brilliant understanding of how things fit together, where anything was in a project at a given time, but this was reflective of his uncanny knack for effortlessly grasping the details of an environment, and noticing changes earlier than any other present. He was the first to notice Bryant, and saw a window of opportunity even as the artist dropped one of his paint tubes. He saw it sail from hand to ground in perfectly clarity, but to others it was a grey shape flecked with black coming out of nowhere, causing some of them to flinch and recoil. The grunts' attention refocused to the newcomer, though he wasn't liable to get involve in a fight for all Leroy knew.

It was as one of the Dragons bent down to pick up the paint tube that Leroy sprang. Putting all his momentum into his weapon, he threw himself forward into a great leap that covered the whole distance of the aisle between the six lesser reds. Sailing horizontally, weapon perpendicular to his body, when Leroy started coming down he slammed the handguard of his weapon to the ground, using it to cushion his recovery roll as he ceased his movement, now next to Chizuma, who looked about as shocked as anyone that Leroy covered the distance so quickly.

Standing up, Leroy put his left hand about Chizuma's waist, his right once more holding his weapon extended to the now seven reds. "Oh, Chiz," he said, leaning his head down and closer to her bright green tresses, "you're really too much of a good girl for your own good."

Hawk gaze now back onto the reds, he continued, "sorry, Randall, I've a vested interest in this lovely lady. Besides, your crew's so wishy-washy at least some of them would smash my dad's shop without a second thought. I mean, if they want to off their own supplier and further demonstrate their own idiocy they can be my guest, but I've got family to look out for." All the while he said this, he was backing away slowly, guiding Chizuma, waiting for some of the grunts to follow, bringing up his mental map of the layout of streets, buildings, and most importantly, traps.
 

Kazem

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Re: Kingdom Hearts: Night of Fate - Trial Run

Standing up swiftly and brushing himself off, the teen made his rounds, looking at the walls and floors, poking and prodding. Dissatisfaction reared itself when all of the good boards turned out to be very, very well secured, the house not giving itself up that easily. The second floor wasn't much better, this time filled with rotten chunks and cracked sections. A clang brought Kal's attention to outside a window, though he didn't see much before ducking, glass shattering and a good thump as a blade buried itself in the wall behind him. Bringing up his hand in a three-fingered gesture recently taken up by the gangs and directing ill-will out into the alley, he took a gander at what almost killed him. The light that did make it past the heavy amount of dust gleamed off the blade as it did Kal's eye, following the blade from the hilt to the hooked end, though dulled from the clash that sent it sailing.

Dibs.

Easily pulling out the machete and giving it a test swing like any other teen would with a new plaything, Kal made his way downstairs, giving a silent sendoff for the poor boards about to be mutilated. Prying off two window's worth of boards, he exited the house with machete tucked in the back of his pants and two armfuls of boards in his arms. This was the moment when he was made aware of the situation outside. On one hand, there was Randal and the Dragons. On the other, there was the green beauty and her knight, metal weapon ready to strike any who got too close. Benyo, Gabe and the Y-Man were the only ones Kal recognized in the group now eyeing up Kal, and his histories with two of them weren't exactly the best to have in this situation. The alley he came through was out of the question, as running away from them would eventually bring him towards Garl's trap-filled patch of sanctuary. Rooftops were also out, too weighed down by his load.

Clearing his throat and whistling a tune, Kal meandered calmly towards the duo, signalling with his eyes and shoulders, looking from Leroy to beyond him repeatedly and shrugging his shoulders, asking for a spot on the getaway train. Whether approved or not, he fully planned on tailing the two closely and dodging the traps, hopeful that he'd be able to keep the boards still held tightly at his sides. A glance behind saw the gang taking a step for each of Leroy's, the game of cat-and-mouse ready to begin in full force, the tension obvious between all of the groups. The red trio took the front, the weapons in their hands worn and recently used. A chain fell down and slide across the ground from the hands of the tallest of the three, Benyo definitely not one to be targeted even by the more daring of the ladies' men in the Dragons, an example made from enough of them for the warning to be clear. The two boys stood evenly with a machete matching Kal's in Gabe's thick hands and long, spiked knuckles in the ringed fingers of Yonamoa, Kal still trying to understand how a wealthy kid like him was able to keep the glittering jewels he wore so proudly. Near them stood a regular client of Kal's that was just now noticed, a raised bunch of boards directed towards Mr. Seyward along with a respectful nod. Odd seeing you here, just hope I won't be hearing about you later.

Legs carried him in a slightly faster waltz towards his guide, still slow enough to not cause the chase to begin but just enough to catch up to Leroy some. Another cough and a urging motion with his head tried to convey some urgency to the mechanic's son with a rare smile flashed at Chizuma. I'm probably going to have to do a few freebies for this, especially with Garl cooped up wherever he is. Of course, I'm acting as an another layer between them and Dragons, so I don't think they'll mind too much. Just hurry up and get a move on, I know how well and how far she can use that chain. Go on, you're leading. Come on now, I need my legs for a living.
 
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