02/28/08, 01:41 AM
| #1 |
| Keyblade Wielder Join Date: Feb 2008 Age: 22
Posts: 297
Rep Power: 1  |  Shines One Year After: Act 1 Jiminy's Journal PG-15 Shines One Year After Kingdom Hearts, Disney, Final Fantasy ACT 1, Writing a New Chapter Nearly one year ago, selected bands of individuals from respective worlds received a notice with King Mickey’s insignia asking the recipients to participate in the collective breaching of the invisible barriers which closed off each world. The central focus of the letter acknowledged the still-looming threat of darkness and the victims that this entity claims. The letter elaborately included the studies of the darkness of the heart and the heart of the worlds written by the philosopher Ansem the Wise and his apprentices. The letter sharply rounded the issues of the darkness that still threatens many unfortunate people and elaborates the existence of the barriers which surround each world; the residents, who are shut off by these barriers, become easy prey for the Darkness, which is unrestrained by law and whose instinct to spread knows no limitation. The borders create a captive globe that is cornered and unable to call for help. With the breaching of the barriers, neighboring worlds may become beacons of light that purify the ill circumstance of their fellow kindred. This request was made in hopes of encouraging world trade and strengthening ties between neighboring worlds. Since the outside threat of the darkness was unavoidable in the worlds, it was decided that the breaches would not bring havoc upon the world order, but rather, the connection of each existence would promote universal balance. One sky will brighten with the new hope fueled by the fraternity of hearts, thus the Inter-Worldly Travel System was born. The world leaders breached the invisible walls and the light of anxious hearts wove together the paths that bridged the neighboring worlds and, with this process, strings of systems became connected. The patched 'bridges' allowed safe travel via capable vessels, and job opportunities such as public universal transportation, navigation and law enforcement surfaced for those who found themselves poor, homeless, or unemployed. Many worlds have also nominated a selected few of their residence as candidates to act as ambassadors and patrollers with the consent of their neighboring worlds. Though, for the most, the breach-and-bridge process prospered, there were also miscalculated reactions to the breach system. Worlds began to breach and bridge with one another without the knowledge, aid, or consent of their leaders and supervisors. The worlds connected on their own accord, unintentionally revealing paths to remote and uncharted areas, thereby arousing further discovery. This was reason for vexation; reason for investigation and reckoning. As of now, however, the operation and moderation of the system must be held in high priority. Panic is not welcomed. The fewest of individuals from a handful of united worlds have been conjured by the Executive Head of the Inter-Worldly Travel System to look into these mysterious mishaps… Prologue, Shallow Whispers Whispers silently tagged one another within the density of the blank atmosphere. ... –then you shall go of your own accord. Ask yourself if this is truly necessary to obtain what you seek, Av-----.The source, as well as the identity and purpose, of the voices were unclear and could only treble deaf ears for the moment… ... Enough of that rabble woman…This voice released a chuckle from his girth. ... Did I not prove my resolve against you and yours? Knowledge is almighty—and true knowledge is only obtained though longevity and by the bold. This...is what I’m seeking; of this, I am sure. ... You are correct sir. Your resolve has proven itself against mine, but keep in mind that, as a society, we should only wish to aid one another in accomplishing our goals. We are your support; we are not each other’s tool. ... Ha! Don’t fret little woman. I have not forgotten the purpose of this fine establishment. On the contrary, I encourage it out right! Like the men of scholar, one pouring life and limb to aid her or his fellow, in the name of the greater resolve–This world shall became a part of something great; its sacrifice is not in vain—in the name of science!The voices faded into the still of the atmosphere. To what was conspiring within the concealment, there was no telling. Last edited by bizness86; 05/15/08 at 10:59 AM. |
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03/15/08, 01:29 PM
| #2 |
| Keyblade Wielder Join Date: Feb 2008 Age: 22
Posts: 297
Rep Power: 1 | Re: Shines One Year After: Act 1 Top Boundless degrees above ground, a coiling torrent of black sundered the recurrent night sky. The swirling bowel spewed forth a spiraling, human shape jetsam whose body sought concrete. The spewed body impacted the earth with a solemn thud, and lay still in its crater as moments passed. A quiet and sparsely occupied town district served as the setting of the descent. The muddled plaza sustained one note-worthy site—two puppies, a scruffy male, and his presentable mate nesting dotingly [1], as displayed on the face of a neon fountain. The jetsam figure stirred slightly, and steadily eased upward. The allotted loiterers and contrary passersby of the district cautiously shot blank glares toward the fallen man; he attained a stern and upright posture, fondling the hilt of a weapon sheathed on his right side. The man’s velvet, pyre hair swayed coolly with each to-and-fro head turn. He examined his surroundings and acquired audience with a rigid and condescending air. The eminent proofs of fatigue were present; his clothing was adorned with the blood of scrapes, and his skin, flushing bruises. His expression, however, relinquished no sign of weakness. He stood at a fine height, above average, and bore the appearance of a young man, thoroughly aged into maturity. His olive-tone physique proved lanky, but was complemented by his impeccable stance. The man’s plain long face lacked all definition; his eyes, absent of pupils, seemed hollowed with white. The man’s long indigo coat possessed short and excessively wide sleeves, and the worn iron scabbard he flaunted on his side contained, by length, what seemed to be an o-katana. The rest of him bore common black slacks and black, hard-soled, shoes. Several new tears, similar in nature to the one that birthed in the sky, circled and ensnared the tattered stiff of the man in indigo. From the vile maw of these dark corridors emerged peculiar entities—harbors of an ink, sheen complexion, bearers of the splintered red heart, brandishing tin helmets and gauntlets adorned with blood red nails; they all comprised intense, hollow-yellow eyes. These black-borne beings of the corridors housed malignant means, looming about the beaten swordsman as a predator skulked about an easy meal. Their snare upon jostled swordsman resembled a slowly shrinking circle. “Heartless!!” screamed a punk straggler. Whether respected or miscreant, all in the district knew the danger of this herald, and took heed. The outward alarm of the young hoodlum triggered a chain of premeditated reactions among the collective. Geezus! You’d think the officials and police would do their job…! Someone! Notify District Six! Heh heh, nah Sweetcakes. You think those donut-munchers’ll waste their lives coming here. Call the hotel; they’ll bring some real officials… Shamelessly leaving or reluctant to leave the sky-borne man, the entire few fled the area nonetheless, as they were addressed to do, leaving the plain-faced jack to his own with the starving Heartless. One of the assailants grew weary of the stalk and bounded the trounced sword carrier, brandishing its fuming ebon claws. Nuh uh, the warrior denied in thought; the swift motion of his sword unsheathing—the mouth of the scabbard kissing an o-katana with no edge; the blunted surface of a wooden sword except steel—his edgeless brand beat pitilessly through the assailing fiend, who disintegrated to its impressive vigor. He sheathed, and once again took a nonchalant stance, showing no wear, harboring no expression as his malefactors twitched and jerked in an obscure fashion; no expression, nor clemency. They all pounced this time, with no plot, just with the intent of striking. The swordsman’s unsheathed once again; his left leg lunged forth, and with a strong grunt he tore through their frontal droves like human hands through cobwebs. His scabbard complemented his calm retort with a subtle swipe to his right side. The left flank rushed in with a flurry of cyclone kicks while the backstabber dove in with his heartless claw for a telegraphed kill. The swordsman’s pivoting step was more than enough to counter ably, as sword and scabbard pounded and swiped his aggressor from their pounce and into oblivion. His attackers clearly vanquished, he cased his brand once again with a stale face. He’s not done yet, the crimson-haired man stood in wait collectedly, his thumb caressing the guard of his hilt. Undoubtedly, yet another dark maw emerged to excrete another Heartless. This beast towered over the edgeless wielder by at least threefold. Rotund and gyrating, in the form of a grotesque mauve leech—it harbored the barbed heart emblem among several vibrating corpuscles. It retained the same hollow eyes as the other Heartless, which adorned themselves, all eleven of them, around its mouth. The leech’s maw milled vigorously into the district concrete. ‘Flip!’ went the swordsman’s cross guard which triggered a violent reaction. The Heartless Leech combusted with an overwhelming, red aura, and the black lumps inked from its slimy carcass and birthed larvae—twelve leech larvae, to the swordsman’s waist in height, retaining the same violent aura as their parent. They ensued as their parent’s maw ground further into the earth. The sky-borne swordsman waited with his rigid and condescending face. The leading assailer leapt and the man snapped forth with an unsheathing brand. The snap contacted mightily, but to no avail. The leech pushed on and sawed with his teeth upon the swordsman’s arm. “Ugh!” He countered tersely with both his sheath in sword, hammering down upon his striker while swiping at the on-comers with his heavy sheath, but neither strike daunted the burning minions. They sawed and stripped with every leap, sucking away at their prey’s vitality and fueling their own vigor—their auras escalated as a result. The disadvantaged warrior acknowledge the bleak, and noted the vigor of the parent leech, grinding and searching underneath the floor rock, but there was still no daunt in his face, and his eyes retained the white hollow. “Hold on sonny!!!” A bellowing voice called out from behind him. The ground was struck by a massive tremor and the entire twelve assailants of the swordsman were eliminated. The man noted the aura of the parent leech dissipate before his vision blurred. He turned to acknowledge with blurred vision, a figure rushing to his side wielding a silver sledgehammer. Drawing near, the figure consoled, “Everything’s gonna be fine, boy.” “Hmph,” the man erected upright and sheathed. He collapsed, to his knees, then face flat. [1] Allusion to Disney's Lady and the Tramp. Top His subconscious mind revisited the black corridors. The viscera walls were enveloped by the spiraling darkness; the unrelenting roaring of these vaporous torrents echoed within its cloak, and the intimidator approached boastfully down its shadowed hall. Still, I looked upon him because he was nothing and it was him all the same. The sin of the world, and I would obscure his step and annihilate him. Both of us cloaked in the black of the realm—until he halted in front of me and made a pompous site of himself.Hyuda awoke to conversation. … Ye did well lass—no need in saying your ‘what-ifs’. … But the bastard made is way here! If I woulda lay hands on that worm— … Heh heh heh…best be counting your blessings that you only had to deal with the leech. … Eh, all the same, I would have rather killed the thing for spite; then I’d at least have the comfort of knowing that bastard was writhing in pain from the effect of the Red Heart. Hyuda Kyaedu opened his eyes, reclined within a meager bed, residing within a cozy room. His coat left him, as he noticed his long burgundy shirt which was usually veiled. He soon noted his coat folded neatly beside the bed with his scabbard. The shadowed room was a plain clutter; dim light made intercourse with its reluctant umbra, books and tools littered one corner while candles and stained dining wares adorned another. A tall profile occupied the clutter-less corner. The ceiling fan produced a healing wind. “Hm—you’re awake;” a tall burly woman sat Indian-style beside the bed. She greeted zealously, “Howdy! You were worse for wears.” The profile in the corner surfaced from the corner’s shade, revealing a mature face shrouded by carrot-top bangs, a scruffy beard, pork pie hat, and shades. His daunting trench coat stole his entire body. He spoke with a prominent accent, “Word to the wise boy: Don’t get up just yet.” Out of spite, Hyuda sat up and stared blankly at the mature figure. The enigmatic man briefed, “We are in the smallest house in District Three of Traverse Town. I’d imagine that you’d know that however, as you scoped out your surroundings after impact.” Hyuda proceeded to humor the black-clad man as he prattled, “Speaking of impact lad, The police have come and gone. Every trace of you an’ the Heartless were cleaned up, mind that mealy mouthed leech, but also that huge dent you made when you were smacked down. Now that was unfixable. You ought to be more considerate, or next time, my long-ago pupil may not feel like rescuing you.” Chagrinned slightly, the stocky woman chuckled, “Ehe…No matter how hard I try to make a name for m’self, you’ll never let me forget that I was a student of yours.” Hyuda sighed. She took note and rose from the floor to give a more formal introduction, “Call me Blacksmith, trainer of many smiths and forgers ‘round these parts of space;” Hyuda ascended from the confines of the bed; examining his condition by stretching his limbs. He found himself well off, but still lacking. Blacksmith added, “I’m retired for the most, but I’m a rock for when my students seek resolve. I don’t stay here regularly, but I do own this place. I’ve placed a spare key with your clothing. I think I’ll be heading out in a day or two, but you may use this place as you please for your recovery.” Hyuda replaced his coat and gathered his sword along with the key to the small house. “Aye—” the enigma man addressed, “and I will be using this house for a day after at least. I am known as the Munny Collector, or the Debt Collector, alias the Gil Master. [2]. I would declare this a pleasure of acquaintance, but I feel that this meeting is something other than pleasurable. Hyuda Kyaedu.” Hyuda gave a blatant glare to each of his hosts, and shamelessly proceeded towards the door. In response, the Munny Collector smirked and elucidated, “Heaven’s Mercenary, you cannot defeat the brawly, brown-robed man which threatened Traverse Town from the Black Depths [3]—” Hyuda halted, and the Munny Collector achieved the Angelo’s direct and intentive leer. “—but…I doubt anyone,” the collector’s sermon pressed smugly as he dauntlessly approached Heaven’s Mercenary, “within ten stars’ radii could smite said assailant. He is indeed intent on feeding;” the collector laughed aloud, “yep, it’s around that time.” He was in Hyuda’s face by now; he bowed his head to remove his hat, revealing strings of tattered red curls. He boasted that Hyuda would never truly have the ability to purge the darkness, and that neither his previous prestige as an Angelo, nor his current “whore of a state” as he recalled bore the means to wholly defeat sin, let alone deal a critical blow upon the Dark Assailants. Hyuda mocked, “Pfft.” To which the solemn collector replied, “Listen to me boy! I know you’re older than most, but you’re still a lad to me, whether you’re one thousand or one million in age--or 1,237, let's be honest...You look good for your age, by the by,” digressing a bit, but refraining, “the Heartless, the Darkness, it will seek to spread until the universe reverts to Kingdom Come. The salvation of the realm is the Keyblade.” The grim gil master extravagantly extended his arm forward, across Hyuda’s shoulder. Hyuda quickly flipped the guard of his hilt, his face expressing a small wince. Blacksmith exclaimed, “No open weapons in this house!” To which, the Munny Collector laughed, and assured, “It’s okay lass. No worrying.” ‘Shhhi!’ Hyuda’s head twitched in reverence; he noted the manifestation behind his neck, held by the red bearded man. “The Keyblade—” the brazen enigma peered through his abysmal lens into Hyuda’s hollow whites, which in contrast to his face, burned with anticipation in response, “purges the hearts of those overwhelmed by malevolence and temptation; the Keyblade which chooses its bearer;” the Munny Collector chuckled jeeringly and watched the manifestation behind Hyuda’s head shatter into bits of light and disperse. He pressed, “I can assure you that you will not be the one who purges the world’s pestilence; you waste your efforts.” Hyuda plainly queried, “Can any fiend be slain and redeemed by the Keyblade?” “Aye. Many things are possible through the Blade.” “Then I shall wield the Keyblader.” The Munny Collector paused, and then chuckled in a demeaning tone, “Heh heh, you do that lad,” though his wording seemed suggestive; he addressed, “By fiend, you must mean the shrouded man you crossed in the Corridor of Night. He is known as Avonej Hart, a brilliant man, albeit quiet mad at times—he exploits darkness to reveal entry to the hearts of worlds. In accessing the cores of worlds, and absorbing their life energies, Hart attains longevity. Note me when I remark, Avonej Hart is a parasite to existence. His methods have permitted his survival for multiple epochs. He wields both force and knowledge from time elapsed. All of your acquired ‘sin’ is a baby to the ranks of Hart. And even as I speak these truths, you still intend to go after the great fiends of the world.” “I do.” “Well then…I’d say that Hart may be one of the world’s greatest fiends. So, I’d challenge you, Hyuda Kyaedu, 203th Family. Find your Keyblader and eradicate fiends.” The brash collector smirked in the face of the stoical swordsman, and in return, Hyuda gave no expression. “Tell me this lad,” the Munny Collector swanked, “how is it I know every detail of your short, one-thousand year-old life?” To which Hyuda contested, “Does it even matter?” “Aye—I guess not,” the collector sighed, and chided, “the only thing that really matters is ‘self-redemption’, and ‘abolishing sin’ before the world is full with it.” “The world is already full with sin.” “Then you better get a move on, my indifferent acquaintance; find your Keyblade and endure its wielders privations because your time has long since been up.” “Are you not a Keyblader?” The Munny Collector bluntly replied, “Do you see a key?” “Fair enough,” accepted Heaven’s Mercenary, “Then I’ll take my leave and seek my Keyblader.” The wily collector allowed a final chuckle, “Oh, you won’t have to travel far. I assure it. I sense a change in the winds.” [fade Destati-Dive into the Heart] [1] The phrase ‘thank Our Mother’ is Hyuda’s equivalent to ‘thank God’ implying that Hyuda’s God figure is in fact female. Last edited by bizness86; 05/15/08 at 10:26 PM. |
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03/19/08, 11:49 AM
| #3 | |
| Organization Member Join Date: Dec 2007 Location: Staring at the sea Age: 14
Posts: 469
Rep Power: 2 | Re: Shines One Year After: Act 1 Could you explain Chapter one? My intellect fails to grasp its complexity. As for the prologue, the settings pretty good but what are the bridges made of if I may ask? I may have missed it or it may have not been explained. Its structure may be important because as I've read, they seem to be fully automated? Correct? I've only read Chapter 1 and the Prologue mind you. EDIT: Tsk, tsk, tsk... you seem to have a habit of skipping commas... that's all the CC I have now. Still in Chapter 2. New EDIT: I thought Keyblades were technically the only way to kill Heartless? And what do you mean by o-katana? Newer EDIT: I see your making original Heartless. Would it be a problem if you were to add pictures or even rough drafts? Newest EDIT: Quote:
Last edited by Wynn; 03/19/08 at 12:12 PM. | |
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03/19/08, 10:59 PM
| #4 | |||||
| Keyblade Wielder Join Date: Feb 2008 Age: 22
Posts: 297
Rep Power: 1 | Re: Shines One Year After: Act 1 Quote:
Specifically, it sounds as if they are talking about the fate of a world... Quote:
Quote:
I'd actually have to inform you of the fact that I have hundreds of loose Word files on my computer explaining exactly how every process is done. I couldn't put everything in the fic word-for-word because that would bore the reader even more, so I only included the jist of things. Quote:
@destroying Heartless: I take it you are speaking of the instance where Hyuda is fighting Heartless. Well, let just say that he's destroying Heartless in the same sense that Donald (with magic), Goofy (shield), Riku (who had Soul Eater for a while before it became Way to Dawn), Leon (gunblade), Hercules (raw strength, all of which aren't Keyblades), Dusks (scene which Saix explains that the Heartless align with whoevers heart is the strongest in Darkness), etc. destroy Heartless in the games. A concept to consider when getting into this fic is that the Keyblade is the only way to free the overwhelmed hearts from Darkness. Apparently, the Heartless can be defeated by anyone capable; it's just that the hearts remain in darkness rather than going free. An o-katana: ÅŒkatana - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia A longer-than-usual katana, not to be confused with a nodachi. These were usually made for someone of a higher social stature. For any terms not known, Wiki helps  . Use it.Quote:
http://i47.photobucket.com/albums/f185/bizoitz86/RP%20enemy/BondLeechandSpawnLeecher.png The link is the in fic also (the word "leech"). Yes; I'm glad you pointed out that I need to tag this. I didn't see anything about tagging fics in the rule thread, and I'd actually want to let it be know that this does contain language...and 'whore' isn't that bad of a word at all. Note that the term whore of a state is simply referring to the fact that he considers himself a mere shell of his former state; the details of that state are still to be revealed. Last edited by bizness86; 03/19/08 at 11:15 PM. | |||||
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03/20/08, 06:44 AM
| #5 |
| FanFic Slayer, K.Theorist Join Date: Sep 2007 Location: I am human, no worries. I don't suck brain juice anyway, it's too juicy.
Posts: 1,100
Rep Power: 3 | Re: Shines One Year After: Act 1 This is so long... I'm not used to long stories in this forum. You'll have to wait till I adjust my brain for another 500k words. Quiksilver's awesome. |
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03/22/08, 09:39 AM
| #6 | |
| Keyblade Wielder Join Date: Feb 2008 Age: 22
Posts: 297
Rep Power: 1 | Re: Shines One Year After: Act 1 Added Chapter 15 Quote:
Please consider reading it though, I enjoyed writing it. Who's Quicksilver? | |
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03/26/08, 06:54 AM
| #7 |
| Keyblade Wielder Join Date: Feb 2008 Age: 22
Posts: 297
Rep Power: 1 | Re: Shines One Year After: Act 1 Top Neck-and-neck, the two Kingdom [1] pilots raced across the outstretching lot of transports and Gummi Ships; their goal, the empty parking space. The Inter-Worldly Travel System—at its peak!—hailed by many as the salvation of the age, the high-speed system allowed unrestricted travel from world to world. This system was made for the people by the people. The freedom to ride the horizons and unite under one sky!—to infinity, and beyond…The cheesy slogan posted at every entry, exit, and corner of the Gummi Galaxy said it all, although, some dwelled on the system’s burdens; steady travel across the galaxy had the potential to empty pockets, and the piloting skills of certain people were, more or less, atrocious—regards to the Department of Gummi Vehicles. Wrecks rarely occurred, but it the event of such, the imminent traffic congestion would become a less-than-enjoyable experience to bear. Adored or detested, the travel system was the most convenient and revolutionary notion since sliced bread. The freedom to leave all of your troubles behind you and travel to brand new worlds to start anew; these were the things that dreams were made of. So why was it so hard to find a parking space? The series of drawn rectangular spaces that traversed the outstretching patterns of tiled concrete was everything to the two combatants of the parking lot. That parking space was the land that marked one’s arrival into a world of revival and adventure—and, as of now, one of these racers would have his hopes of exploration taken away. The loser of dreams would have to submit to the victor. As the empty space grew nearer, the fast-paced race for wonders proceeded to closure. A com rang, “Eh?! Jackpot!” Plummeting from above, an ivory-colored Gummi Ship smugly planted itself into the wanted space. The chagrinned racers swore vigorously into their intercoms towards the bubble-shaped ship; however, their indecent words were obscured from the pilot of the custom model, with the hissing of his Engine Gummi, and the smooth sounds of jazz inhabiting his mp3 player. Even so and as the engine hiss gradually dissipated, the ivory driver reckoned the facial expressions of the two parking-space-less pilots. The bickering of grown men—a common site of the travel system era. “Sorry?” The bubble pilot’s unsure voice rang through his intercom, but barely protruded the whining. “Hey,” a Kingdom com rang; “You! That was my spot, you jerk!!” “Jesus Christ…” rang the ivory ship’s com. The latches of the bubble-framed ship’s hatch cracked open. The hatch slowly lowered to reveal its driver. The bickering continued, “—you little rat bastard!! What’s the big idea?!” The ivory pilot stepped forth. He was taller than most, above average height. From head to toe, a sleek ivory robe draped him, and from under the hood of his cloak and shaggy white bangs, which were highlighted with black and sprouted from his hood like vines, he wore a drab and worn expression. From what was visible of his face, revealed a young man; however, the curvature of his mouth, and unusually pale skin brought a crazed and restless expression to his face. Drowsy, bloodshot brown eyes pierced through the pilot’s bangs and towards the two stagnant Kingdom models. The young pilot shrugged, “Look, you’ve gotta be aggressive to win here—” and added a smirk while progressing with a hint of sarcasm, “and I guess you two just don’t cut the proverbial mustard…I’m sure there are plenty other spaces to park.” The young man pulled his ‘Gummi Key’. Erk-erk! The bubble-shaped ship sounded, indicating the activation of the alarm. “By the by,” the ivory-clad man indicated his ship, “if any of you touch Cuppa Joe, you’ll regret having fingers...Amen?” The words danced cryptically from the young man draped in ivory, to which he nonchalantly departed the company of the Kingdom pilots, and made his way towards the horizon of the lot. … “Why you little punk!—Who the hell do you think you are anyway!?” The drowsy young man turned back to hear the still-running engines of those destined to wait for someone to leave the lot before parking. He sighed, and turned to readdress his acquaintances one last time, “Right ...Since I crushed your dreams of—” he ‘quoted’ with his fingers, “--surveying the lands flowing with milk and honey...” he raked his fingers through his bangs, spiking them upward to unleash his unruly eyes of bloodshot and bags upon the pilots, “Java Black. I prefer ‘J’ because of recurring coffee references, and if I hear so much as a chuckle, I will hunt you down and ‘make bacon out of pigs’ if you know what I mean;” Java released the locks, allowing them to cover his weary eyes once again. He softly added before continuing off into the horizon, “—and don’t test me, bastards. I don’t sleep...” Silence whelmed the two hovering ships; the pilots witnessed as J walked onward, coolly stepping over their dreams of a bright, new world. One of the Kingdom coms protruded the silence which Java’s enlightenment promoted: … There goes my dream of starting a new business... … It’s not over yet! I’m not gonna let some snot-nose punk crush my hopes! Just you wait, sir! In a couple hours or more, there will be a parking space! … And I’ll be here with ya buddy! … Hand in hand! … Side by side! … Onward!—To Traverse Town!! [1] The term ‘Gummi’ is associated with the malleable and convenient substance that comes from space, as well as everything composed from it. Gummi Ships are ships that allow inter-world travel, and are constructed from Gummi Blocks, an adhesive substance that had also composed the world barriers. For the remainder of this story, the names of Gummi Ship models will be italicized for indication. Last edited by bizness86; 05/18/08 at 01:37 AM. |
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03/26/08, 06:55 AM
| #8 |
| Keyblade Wielder Join Date: Feb 2008 Age: 22
Posts: 297
Rep Power: 1 | Re: Shines One Year After: Act 1 Top The world door to Traverse Town, splintering planks of fashioned hardwood hinged with stained iron latches, was quite a door indeed. Aside from the constant chatter and commotion of an abundance of busy-body tourists, and the eternal slam and creek of wood, the Traverse Town door also found the attention of droves of ‘entrepreneurial’ merchants equipped with rinky-dink sales stands which featured everything from household appliances to cold, fresh lemonade. Nearly ten meters in front of the Traverse Town Entry, a smoothly paved outstretching strip of asphalt awaited the arrival of the infamous Charter, one of now many, the choice transportation for those who do not own or can not afford their own run-of-the-mill Gummi Ship. The Charter route, the scheduled arrivals and departures of a series of specialized Gummi models that collected and dispatched passengers from one charted world to the next, was specifically developed as a cheap source of transportation for people of misfortune and low income. As the Grand Ambassador of this fine travel system stated, televised world-wide and quoted by Kupo Daily newsletter: “Everyone needs a helping hand. And we can all pitch in and work the bugs out together. Let’s truly make leaving are hardships and reachin’ out to the stars something real, and not something costly.”Additional information can be found on posters and pamphlets at any Charter stop. The Charter! Reaching out to the stars The first and most reliable model of Public Gummi Transportation. Gain wings of silver and experience what it is really like to ride the winds. Provided by Wishing Star© Sponsored by Mognet, Moogle Synthesis, and Cait Stop All Donations will support Project Star Command and Moogle Synthesis Hours: 600-2200 Traverse Town To Rock Point 700, 900, 1100, 1500, 1700, 1900, 2100 To Stardust Sweep 800, 1000, 1200, 1400, 1800, 2000 60 passengers’ seats total, two to each seat Maximum Capacity: 120 passengers As usual, the Charter arrived at its stop in front of Traverse Town in a timely fashion, raring to dump off yet another blasé load of other-world visitors of the various lot: the sight-seeing passengers, the miscreant bus urchins, the hopeless romantic dreamers, the etceteras. “Alright people! We’re here...get off,” barked the abrasive dog-faced bus driver. Amongst the diverting passengers slouched a young female bus leech. The young woman exited the bus jading a loose cerulean jacket, in which she snugly huddled herself, her hands deeply buried in the coat pockets. Semi-baggy, khaki-colored slacks loosely hugged her waist, and grungy black sneakers sheltered her feet. She was a ‘shorty’, maybe juggling just around five feet (over one and one half meters) in height, and though she exhibited a modest choice of attire, when she chose to stop scowling, she could have been considered quite the cute young lady for a “bus urchin,” or an “alley cat of the Charter,” a term used universally and made renowned by one infamous bus urchin. The young woman’s hair was a shaggy mid-length, and produced short untidy front bangs that had the potential to be somewhat frustrating if she had plans to style her hair. Her coarse woolen locks were tied by a cute red elastic band into a ponytail. Her hair and eyes were both a lighter wintry shade of blue. All of that, in a small-and-neat package, quickly jutted from the crowd exiting the famed gummi bus. “Hey--” a passenger screamed. He was a rather pale and portly gent with cheeks that nearly hid his eyes. He donned comfortably in a black short-tailed tuxedo and robed in a fine furred overcoat–a real aristocrat this one. He proceeded to yell out, “My wallet! Somebody’s taken my wallet!!” Our tiny package could not help but give a slight wince in secret. Inching closer towards Traverse Town’s gate entry, the girl instinctively slowed her pace to that of a casual passerby to avoid suspicion. “This travel system is just another breeding ground for little reprobate juveniles!!! I’ll get to the bottom of this–I’ll sue this compan--” The large man continued his relentless rant. The short Ms. was almost home free; not only did Traverse Town harbor mindless tourist junkies, it also harbored unsuspecting mindless tourist junkies that were routinely preyed upon by a considerable amount of poor and wretched pillagers and looters of the alleyways–she would fit right into the lot. Neither the tourists nor the looters were ready for the rebel with the snow-blue hair... “HEY GABS!” The dingy blonde hair and head of a young urchin boy popped out of the bus window, conspicuously pointing to the seemingly slick pilferer lady urchin. “THEY KNOW YOU DID IT!! RUN! RUN GABS!!” That little four foot bastard! Sold me out!! The nearly home-free lady swiftly turned back in pure disbelief at the kid urchin. The dupe passenger turned his heavy head towards ‘Gabs’ and erupted in a swearing rage. “Someone–someone catch that little whoremonger!! That rapscallious wench has pilfered my billfold!!” The lumpy fig of a man danced and wailed, indicating Gabs. Gabs cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted out at the smirking lad who hung from the Charter window, “HEY KID!! YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR LITTLE *SS!! Cuz, I’m gonna own it if I ever see it again!! You hear me?!!” and bolted into a crew of people embarking upon Traverse Town’s humble-but-adequate shelter. “Is anybody going to stop her?!!” No one lifted a finger to aid the plump gentleman. Everyone else was too busy going in their own directions; the tourists were toured; the vendors vended; the officers at the door lazily observed the masses of people that went and came. All the poor fat sap could do was walk ill-heartedly into town, hoping for the chance to lay hands on the young wench that stole his wallet. “I guess he could always look for a job now,” chuckled a young male urchin on the back seats of the Charter. Some young ‘alley cats’ harmoniously chortled at the misfortunes of the lewd and obese man. The blonde boy slumped back into to bus. “That’ll fix her good...” the young blonde smirked, raising his window completely with satisfaction smeared across his face. “That was a pretty low move you pulled on Gabrianna though Scoots–” said an adolescent female red-head, “–as a matter a fact–why did you do that to her anyways?” A younger squirt seconded, “Yeah!!! The Gabs was total coolness. Why Scoots?” Scoots slouched into the corner of his seat and shamelessly crossed his arms. “I wanted ta pilfer that ol’ porker...” The leery and disappointed glares from his peers unnerved Scoots’ usually-shrewd boldness, “Gol-lee...geez ya wet blankets!! I knew she was gonna get away anywhos...” Still silence, “I was just giving her a go...oh, whadda you binjies know anywhos!” The next wave of passengers boarded, and the Charter departed for its next destination. Java saw the departing Charter from a little less than one kilometer off into the distance. He continued to make the trek towards the world passage into Traverse Town from the faraway land of the parking lot. “That was by far, the longest walk to a God-forsaken town of Trans-verse–“ Java mocked and mumbled to himself; a calamity of noise and bodies drew nearer with each step. Java stopped briefly, stretching a few yawns out from deep within his lungs before proceeding forth. “Perhaps, I should have parked a little closer...Bah! I need a drink.” One more yawn escaped between words. “That “Geppetto’s Java” better have some damn good coffee.” Java pressed onward. |
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03/26/08, 06:57 AM
| #9 |
| Keyblade Wielder Join Date: Feb 2008 Age: 22
Posts: 297
Rep Power: 1 | Re: Shines One Year After: Act 1 Top Behold Traverse Town’s First District in its abundant glory; a modest slew of finely polished shiftlessness; flashy neon signs and street lamps that slumber dreamlessly underneath the perennial starlit night. The town has recently gained recognition as a place of historical importance. Built and annexed from various remains of worlds claimed by the darkness, Traverse Town homed and sheltered many lost-world refugees. Still, the citizens and immigrants have somehow managed to sluggishly maintain a fair governing amongst themselves, and house many unfortunates. So obviously, many native and adoptive people of this town rejoiced with the development of the travel system, and welcomed the arrival of other world visitors and the opportunity to travel and start elsewhere. The architecture of Traverse Town ascertained nothing less than the authentic dexterity of a carpenter from an erstwhile century. The first district lodged various places of adequacy, as well as the attention of the many visitors and refugees. Thus, the first district was considered Traverse Town’s place of daily activity. Adjacently left upon entering the town gates, there stood a small café that hid a series of dimly candle-lit, round tables-for-two underneath a cozy veranda area, convenient for those who enjoy casual and romantic lounges and conversations. The small square lightly included a pair of modest trees and benches, several entries into the outer districts and alleyways of Traverse Town, and an awkward, slanting mailbox. A goods shop, a two-story accessory and item workshop, and a short and wide staircase ascending towards the elevated back portion of the area centered off the crowded district. Rounding off the district leaned a rather homely home of pale green and yellow, and an old sheltered wooden display case that has been claimed by various merchants and dealers. The first district site that attracted the most attention as of recent was the goods shop; a sale was being held on travel equipment and Tupperware so the shop had been fairly busy up until now. Amongst the floating crowd, the Grand Ambassador of the Inter-Worldly Travel System himself approached the goods shop. Most could recognize him from television and other media sources, and many people seemed to know him personally, but most were just admirers or people that would ultimately make attempts to bum munny off of him. The ambassador was also considered one of the richest men alive, practically heading Traverse Town. The Grand Ambassador was an older fellow, but he would say that he is “as spry as any spring duckling.” He wore a blue formal over-jacket with red hems and stitches, and a black top hat over his white slick feathers. A small pair of round reading glasses snugly lay on his bill, and a graying beard and whiskers lay around it. Cufflinks of diamond shone lustrously from each wrist as he flaunted a fine ebony walking cane. The ambassador reached the goods shop entry and proceeded to turn the doorknob. Instantaneously, the door flung open, nearly taking the arm of the startled ambassador with it. A lovely young woman toting a mid-size forest green accessory bag brimming with grooming products, and several magazines and reading material dashed out from the shop, almost clashing into the Grand Ambassador. The young woman mirrored the ambassador’s shock with her own expression of startle. “Whoa dere lass!” The ambassador addressed, chuckling. She struggled to an abrupt stop, exhibiting a humiliated expression on her face. His voice mustered friendliness as he spoke, “What’s your hurry young lady? You nearly put this old duck down for tha count.” “So sorry Grand Ambassador McDuck–” the young lady apologized with a gentle voice and a short bow, barely clinging onto her travel bag with both hands. “I’m just ready to get away from this place–sooo busy today!” The girl stood fairly tall and with good posture. Her figure was healthy, not extremely slim, but not at all too thick, and was complemented by her light, flushing skin tone. Her olive and brunette blend of hair glistened vibrantly, flowing nearly down to the small of her back. Folded near her right ear was a red flower. Her face still wore a slight grin of abashment, but her large, milky, blue eyes were more than enough to calm the disquieted ambassador. A pink choker and silver chain and heart charm decorated her neck. On her left hand gripped a tight forest green leather glove, and a gold bracelet with a diamond shape emblazoned her left arm. Her white dress cozily fit her and lengthened down just above mid-thigh. A mahogany bow and an arrow-filled quiver hung behind her, slung from across her shoulders. She sported a pair of smoothly tan “Enchanted Boots” which she had recently purchased from the goods shop for seventy-five percent off plus worker’s discount, to replace some older, worn footwear. “Oh, you’re fine Sebrea, and please–call me Scrooge,” Scrooge smiled and beckoned to her. Sebrea crouched down to ear-level and Scrooge whispered comically, “If I were in your shoes lass, I’d high-tail it as far away from this mad house as possible, and never return.” Sebrea and Scrooge released light laughter in unison. Scrooge sighed and cheerfully shrugged, “Unfortunately, I can’t...I hafta make sure business is runnin’ well in town,” Sebrea rose to standing position and Scrooge gained a few steps towards the shop entry, “I enjoy lookin’ at people makin’ munny for me too much. Imagine that...but I hope you enjoy the rest of tha day Ms. Sebrea–oh–and is everything in town doing well for ya,” Scrooge asked with a soft smile whilst adding, “I hope you’re enjoyin’ tha goods shop crew’s company as much as everyone else is enjoyin’ yours.” “Hai! [1] I’m very grateful. This job is much better than any other job I’ve had, and everyone’s been so nice.” Sebrea cheerfully nodded, “but I’m sure you’re busy Mr. Scrooge. I won’t hold you any longer sir.” Scrooge gave an airy chuckle, “Heh–you’re sweet–you’re not holdin’ me from anything child. As lazy as this town is, it’s good for an old crow like me ta just simmer down some.” “And besides,” a voice escaped from the collar of Scrooge’s jacket. A small figure leaped out and onto Scrooge’s shoulder. The figure continued with a slightly disgruntled tone, “we’re kinda on the lookout for Scrooge’s absent-minded nephew. I’d like to know what’s gotten into that duck! If we keep this up, we’ll be late for sure!” Sebrea giggled and replied, “I think Donald has wandered off into the Second District as usual, Mr. Cricket–” “Now what did Scrooge tell you about being so formal–” the cricket shook his finger and playfully scolded Sebrea. “Call me ‘Jiminy’ please.” Jiminy dusted off a miniature tuxedo coat, which he wore conventionally, and then removed his tiny top hat from his tiny head, and gave it a thorough dusting. “Ok then, Jiminy; Mr. Scrooge; good luck finding little Donald.” Sebrea bowed, quickly bobbing her head down and back up. “Enjoy yourself lass–off wit ya!” Scrooge playfully dismissed. “–and remember–don’t work too hard! All work ‘n no play makes for long faces and dreary eyes!” Jiminy added. Sebrea nodded and parted ways with the two gents, departing from the shop and stepping into the blithe of wandering hoi polloi. “There’s a good lass; so polite and well-mannered...” Scrooge commented to Jiminy while trailing off into the goods shop. “Not too mention her good posture--” Jiminy indicated before the goods shop door shut behind the two. An exhausted Sebrea, struggling with her weighty bag, made her way towards the renowned Geppetto’s Java after another day’s work. Well, thank goodness the coffee shop is closed today. I don’t think I could last another minute’s work...I may have had to fake sick! Sebrea thought to herself, pacing towards one of the small wooden tables underneath the café veranda. Sebrea usually considered the time she took to walk from the goods shop to the café as a break from working two jobs, so she didn’t mind taking her time while walking. After all, clerking at the shop was tiresome enough, but bartending in Geppetto’s Java while keeping an eye on that mischievous slacker, Pinnochio was more than a handful of work. Sebrea figured that working two jobs would keep her busy while she was out on her quest. Also, she enjoyed the kindness of her co-workers and the munny was looking good. Aside from the rare and enjoyable benefit of employee discounts, and free coffee and soda floats from Mr. Geppetto’s café, Ambassador Scrooge was generous indeed to those on the payroll and she had worked in far worse places for far less pay...she had to pay for travel somehow. Traverse Town was a good place to chill, perfect for Sebrea at the moment; she preferred to be in a place where she could marinate while recollecting her thoughts and emotions, and this controversial town was practically made for restarting and beginning anew; but then again, so much chilling and restarting could eventually wear Sebrea out and put her to sleep. As Sebrea drowsily observed folks sitting at the clusters of tables, she dreamily waltzed underneath the chipping veranda of Geppetto’s Java. She became instantly alert, however, when she realized that she was falling fast on her behind. ‘Oof!’ An explosion of color fled from Sebrea’s bag and onto the tiled earth: books and magazines of reds, yellows, and blues, a pink toothbrush, a conspicuous shard of grey metal, various pieces of shimmering rocks and shells...green and golden munny. Everything met the ground; and the ground was indeed hard. Sebrea’s sudden plop added more pain to her caboose and already-aching back and bones. Sebrea sat up with a cringe. Her eyes searched around the cozy veranda for the exact person, place or thing that could have caused the fall, and instantly met the source: another young woman on the ground. The other young woman sat up angrily with both hands securing her forehead, which was flushed from impact, no less from the heavy bag of Sebrea’s. She was a lot shorter than Sebrea, and probably younger; Sebrea had recently celebrated a nineteenth birthday. The shorter female wore comfortably loose khaki-colored pants, and a blue jacket. Snow blue bangs strung over her still-rubbing hands and forehead. Sebrea thought about reaching out and apologizing for her inattentiveness, but was abruptly interrupted. “Sh*t–” Gabrianna hissed, rubbing her forehead. Both women pulled themselves up from the ground and dusted themselves off. “Dang it!” Gabrianna writhed, and, still cringing and stroking her blushing forehead, barked spitefully, “watch where you’re goin’ floozy...” Gabrianna’s abrasive words struck Sebrea, who flushed with embarrassment. With no response, a flustered Sebrea proceeded to kneel down and recover her belongings. While picking up her surplus of trinkets and items, Sebrea noticed the young girl aiding her, and smiled lightly. Quietly and wearily, she addressed the blue-haired lady while placing an Archery Monthly magazine into her sack, “Thank you–hard day’s work...I should have been paying more attention to–” “Whatever lady–” Gabrianna disregarded, retrieving a number of bath towels and tubes of toothpaste. Gabrianna hesitated, and then addressed, “–look, it’s no biggy. I wasn’t paying too much attention either.” Gabrianna figured that the incident seemed inadvertent enough. Within a couple of minutes, Sebrea’s possessions were returned to her carrying bag. Sebrea bobbed gratefully, “Sorry again–and thank you.” Sebrea apologized with slight disorientation. She had still been shaken up from her work, startling Mr. Scrooge, falling, and everything else about the day. Gabrianna gave Sebrea a glance from head-to-toe and gave a slight mocking chortle. “Aren’t you chilly wearing that skimpy dress? Well, it’s not that cold here, but still–” Gabrianna smirked, looking down at Sebrea’s exposed legs, “I mean, wow...showing off those knobby knees, aren’t we?” Gabrianna laughed jeeringly and walked off towards the goods shop. Sebrea blushed again, looking down at her knees, “Knobby?” Sebrea shrugged to herself and victoriously approached a vacant table that rested near the café door. She sighed as she plopped down into the wooden chair, and admired the melting candle that dimly lit the tabletop. Sebrea rested on the table, tucking her head in the warmth of her folded arms. Okay, it should be around 4:30 PM. So–around eight, I’ll head to the hotel and call it a day, and then...day off!! Sebrea thought to herself as she drifted away from the surrounding bustle, and into tranquil thought. It had only been five days since she made it to Traverse Town, and just look at her. Traverse Town was running her ragged. The only reason she saw to stay was the diversity of the crowd. Finding the answers to her questions was Sebrea’s top priority at the moment, and she had no real Plan B. Traverse Town is full of different–no...Sebrea’s thoughts began to contradict themselves, everyone that comes to this town is the same–peacock tourists looking to buy souvenirs, snap pictures, and heckle Mr. Scrooge for money whenever he visits. It felt hopeless to linger in Traverse Town, but Sebrea had dug a hole for herself. Good job, nice co-workers, great shopping. She sighed and slowly shut her eyes. I miss home…I miss Gii-san. [2] Sebrea drifted into a dreamless slumber. [1] SOTA’s focal characters were influenced by the characters of some paper-pen role-players which I had the pleasure of role-playing with. The character which influenced Sebrea spoke in ‘Japenglish’, using sparse Japanese dialect with English. This trait is recreated with Sebrea. In this case, ‘hai’ is similar to ‘yes’. |
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03/26/08, 06:58 AM
| #10 |
| Keyblade Wielder Join Date: Feb 2008 Age: 22
Posts: 297
Rep Power: 1 | Re: Shines One Year After: Act 1 Top Gabrianna smirked as she drifted from the café veranda and towards the goods shop. Gabrianna pulled her hand from her jacket pocket and unveiled a full wad of green bills which she admired smugly. She had already convinced herself that she was genius from the ‘porker heist,’ and now she had successfully executed a casually planned bump-and-pilfer. “Honey was definitely loaded. Just as much as that fat bastard...” Gabrianna said with a confident simper, fondling each paper bill in her hand, “Wonder why she doesn’t go and buy any decent clothes with all her moola…instead of dressin’ like a fairy child…” Gabrianna entered the goods shop, stolen munny in hand. The shop interior was spacious; a slowly circulating fan at the ceiling, a counter in the far corner, and not much more. The merchandise was all held in polished oak shelves and open cupboards. Conveniently, Gabrianna entered during a stall in service. Very few customers waited for assistance. Three people ran the counter overall. The first cashier was a rather intimidating sight; the stocky fellow brandished grayish straight hair, a grumpy expression, and a variety of burns and bruises on his face and arms stood. In contrast, a tiny pig-tailed blonde lady heavily draped in full dress and apron ran the second register. Lastly, a tall and rather scrawny gentleman with an excellent posture and fine attire tended to the shelf and cabinet merchandise. Any others in the store were either loitering or inspecting the merchandise. Scrooge and Jiminy sat in conversation with several customer familiars. Gabrianna playfully skipped towards the counter, and delivered a sappy eye-closing grin to the stocky grouch at the register. The face of the grey-haired brawn showed no definition in response to Gabrianna’s heavy grin. Eventually, the rough cashier replied to the giddy-faced Gabs with a scoff, “I hope yer not ‘ere fer troublin’ again…” “Only as much trouble as everyone blames me for–” Gabrianna stated, allowing her hard grin and eyebrows to morph into a smart-aleck’s face of mockery and sarcasm. She plopped both elbows onto the counter and leaned in wait, head resting on both supporting hands. Gabrianna frivolously addressed, “How’s it going my rugged chum?” A small silence commenced before she refrained from her digression, “Um–I placed an order for a sweet-assed pole weapon–and now I have the dough for it, so...yeah baby!” “I know, I remember, cuz I’m the one who built the order!” The cashier grumbled; he remained motionless, and bore a searing hole into Gabrianna’s face with his callous eyes. Gab’s face reverted to her irritated scowl, and she scoffed whilst leaning over the counter and into the cashier’s face, “So–you gonna sit here, and eye-f*ck me all day?! Well then?! Where is it, *ss?! I’ve been busting my butt scroungin’ up munnies to pay for this baby!” By now, Gabs had attracted the lot of the remaining customer’s attention. The cashier proceeded to burn a hole with his eyes in the face of the fiery Gabs, but only momentarily. “Hmm…” Scrooge, along with the other eyes, pondered to themselves over the commotion. “Hmph…I wonder what’s eating her.” The words slipped too hastily from Jiminy’s mouth and dripped downward. From her peripheral, Gabrianna shot a horrific glance towards the absent-worded cricket. Words cryptically jutted from Gabrianna’s tongue that caused the room to freeze with awkwardness, “I thought crickets only chirped…but I guess this cricket has a big effin--” The gruff cashier intruded Gab’s speech with a submissive sigh. He yelled back at the scrawny young man who laid against the wall sleepily beside the shelved merchandise, “Scotty!!” The scrawny man violently fidgeted in response to the dream-shattering yell. Scotty yawned, as the cashier continued, “Order Three Hund’d Thirdy-Six!! Now!!” Scotty silently gained his composure, and reached into one of the open cupboards. He retrieved and delivered a lengthy halberd to the straight-haired cashier; the weapon was taller than Gabrianna. The pole was of a fine tan wooden polish, and the spear head was a fine-length, jagged crystalline blade of an aquamarine color that bore a pronging blade birthing from the base of the blade side of the head. The cashier forcefully dismissed Scotty from the counter and, with his eyes, bore a deeper hole into the center of Gabrianna’s forehead. “Happy?” the cashier reluctantly smirked presenting the spear. “Hells yeah,” Gabs grinned, snatching the spear from the cashier’s hard hands. “The Mythril Spear–I can definitely whoop *ss with this,” she held the halberd upright and gazed at the long pole with admiration. “Thanks Bantuk. Smell ya around, ‘kay!” Gab waved and proceeded out with a skip. “Ahem!” Gabrianna halted in her tracks as the gruff Bantuk strongly cleared his throat. “What’s your hurry young lady?” Bantuk sternly addressed, left hand outstretched, and cash register chiming. “That’ll be two thousan’ sixy munny wit’ the sale discount.” Gabrianna taunted with a ‘boo’, and handed him the correct munny. “Thankies!” Gabs grinned while hugging her newly purchased Mythril Spear. She slowly back stepped toward the door. Bantuk scornfully replied while recounting her sum, “Prob’ly stole the munnies ta buy it in the first!” “Hey! Be happy I paid for it!” Gabrianna scoffed, and exited ecstatically with her Mythril Spear. From there, Gabs cautiously blended in with the district masses, pick-pocketing and pilfering the occasional trinket or wallet until her pocketing led her into the Second District. Beware the Geeky Rebel; the words echoed in her mind, and influenced her actions. She figured that she could pilfer a couple more pockets before the next Charter arrived–or she could wait for the Charter that came after the next if she wanted. With the Mythril Spear as her ‘backup man,’ the Gabs was ready to take on the cold and uncaring worlds. Things were looking up–who could stop the self-proclaimed “Geeky Rebel?” |
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03/26/08, 07:04 AM
| #11 |
| Keyblade Wielder Join Date: Feb 2008 Age: 22
Posts: 297
Rep Power: 1 | Re: Shines One Year After: Act 1 Top “Finally! Thank God!” Java triumphantly sighed, standing just a few meters from the Traverse Town entry, “–back in this forsaken spit o’ land, huh? Welp…Coffee, I have arrived!!” Java stood amongst the hoopla of entering and exiting masses, the constant annoyance of repetitive sales pitches, and of course, the common bickering amongst grown men. Ah...smells like a home– the young man inhaled deeply, soaking up every bit of the site. This was perfect preparation for the venture into the busy boredom within the town gates. Alas, a welcoming voice swiftly pierced the common fuss that seeped into Java’s flesh, and marinated within his innards. “Hey! Zombie Fiend! Long time huh,” the voice protruded Java’s trance, sourcing from the right side of the giant door. A good number of meters away from the doorway, another young man leaned collectedly upon the wall, casually waving two fingers to gain J’s attention. “Ah, a familiar face,” Java addressed, and with equal coolness, nodded in response, nearing the neutral figure, “and one of the only faces that can call me a ‘Zombie Fiend–’ or something of that manner.” Java neared the sleekly clad young man, rolling up his right coat sleeve, and revealing a long black shirt sleeve. Slowly leaving the solace of the wall, the young man made his way towards the approaching Java. He too began to roll up the right raincoat sleeve, revealing a long black shirt sleeve also. Our calm figure wore near-opposite attire from Java: long jet-black raincoat with bright white slacks and ankle boots. His complexion was coffee-brown, and he jaded stringy maroon locks of |