Roleplay Once Upon a Fantasy RP

[Mystics Apprentice 2,397]

--Kefka--

 

Sid's answering machine was all that Kievan received, much to his dismay and utter despair.  The situation grew a little more intense, however, when Tina slid out of the car and decided to take matters into her own hands.  "Oh, now, wait, Tina!" Kievan cried out, a hint of desperation in his tone.  He reached out for her feebly, though that was going to do no one any good.  He threw his head back against the headrest, thoughts swirling frantically.  If he got out of the car he was done for, and yet what kind of a man would he be if he allowed Tina to fend for them both?  No, he could not live with that sort of guilt, if he were to survive this encounter at all.

 

Heart hammering in his chest, Kievan snapped open the driver's door and stepped out of the vehicle as well, moving toward the trunk and jamming the key into the lock.  His hands were clammy due to both the fear and urgency of the situation, causing him to drop his keys before finally managing to get the trunk to unlock itself so that he could retrieve his concealed weapon.  He didn't have the permits necessary, but he wasn't always one to follow rules.

 

He took the gun in his right hand and pointed it in the direction of the shadow, only, strangely, it seemed disinterested in both of them, even after Tina had thrown her handful of asphalt.  It seemed as though it were being summoned elsewhere, or that it had better things to do with its time, for it disappeared almost as quickly as it had come, leaving a very confused couple in its wake.  For a moment Kievan could only stare at the location where he'd sighted the Heartless moments ago, heart pounding before finally coming to his senses.  He darted over toward Tina and, without thinking, drew her into an embrace.  "We've finished him!  You did it!" he exclaimed jubilantly, releasing her to place his hands on her shoulders.  "Thank goodness you're alright.  I don't know what I would've done if that thing managed to do you harm."

 

At this the blond straightened, stealing a sideways glance at his vehicle.  It seemed to be perfectly fine, though the road leading to outside town, well, was anything but.  The Heartless had managed to rip the road asunder, many pieces of the asphalt missing and others had crevices so deep that Kievan dared not explore it.  The creature had seemed to come from out of town, too.  Who knows what sort of trouble it had started while out there.

 

"Look here," Kievan said slowly, as though assuming that Tina would be upset by his suggestion.  "I know that I'd mentioned we could go to that fancy restaurant out of town, but given the circumstances why don't we pick a nice place to eat in town?  I don't want to disappoint you, but after that kind of encounter I think I'd be more comfortable if we remain local."

 

--Sora--

 

The brunet could barely contain his excitement upon Terrence's proposal.  He could help investigate?  Really truly?  He leapt out of his seat and plummeted past Lukas, hopping out of the car and waiting for the rest of the crew to get out.  Sora's grin stretched a mile wide as he threw his hands behind his head.  "Wow, thanks, Mister Terrence!  I can't wait to be your partner for the day!"

 

He was especially enthusiastic about seeing Terrence's workplace, and perhaps seeing more of the sheriff's station.  His joyful expression faltered, however, when he thought of Sophia, hoping that she wasn't going to be upset that he was so enthusiastic about doing a little detective work with her friend.

 

--Cloud--

 

The hospital was well-lit, and impressively large given the small population on Destiny Beach.  They had arrived in the visitor's lounge of the west wing, which was circular with several teal chairs and a loveseat.  Once they had stopped moving Cloud craned his neck around to get a good look at Krissa.  Her smile was so tender and kind, just as he'd always remembered it.  Her words were equally so.  Even if she didn't believe him, at least she thought he was still sound of mind.

 

Could it be possible that his memories were false?  Perhaps, though he knew with absolute certainty that he knew Krissa deep down.  A part of him wondered if she knew him too, but was too afraid to let herself admit to it.  He shook his head and leaned back in the wheelchair.

 

"I don't know how long they're going to keep me," Cloud said bitterly.  "I keep telling the doctors that I'm fine, but then they keep injecting me with stuff and knocking me out.  They keep saying that I suffered some severe trauma the other night when I was shot, but that's not how I see things.  Maybe.  I don't even know anymore."

 

His turquoise eyes surveyed one of the large windows that overlooked Destiny Beach.  It was possible to even see the coastline from this point.  "Say, Tif--I mean, Krissa, do you still kickbox these days?"

 

--Ultimecia--

 

It was certainly amusing the woman to listen to Myles from the backseat.  Not caring for fellow civilians; that sounded like the man that she once knew.  Because she didn't want to alarm Zachary just yet, however, she tried to turn her response into a joke back at the silver-haired man.  "Well, now, Mr. Myles, I'm sure we want to get to the diner without a whole slew of police officers at our heels for slaughtering all of these pedestrians, wouldn't you say?"

 

She listened mindlessly to the chatter between hero and villain in the backseat, pulling into a dark parking lot that had barely a lone streetlamp.  Alongside them was the old diner that Scarlet had seen far too much of over the past few days, and at this point she had grown rather sick of seeing Lumina's face.  It was the perfect place to congregate without suspicion, however, and also provided her the perfect opportunity to get to know more about the on-goings of this town.

 

She opened her car door and stepped out, turning a silky smile over toward the two young men.  "It looks like we've picked their peak time," Scarlet called out to either who would listen to her.  "Hopefully they can spare us three seats."

 

--Vanitas--

 

The teen was pretty much finished with his artwork on the exterior of the wall.  He'd just finished writing "firetruck school" alongside the stick figure, as he took a few paces back to admire his work.  Not bad for a rushed piece, in his opinion.  Maverick wished that he could see the look on the owner's face when he or she caught sight of all this.

 

Just then Maverick heard sounds coming from the other end of the warehouse.  They were faint, but there.  He arched a brow and immediately traded out his sharpee for his switchblade.  "Someone out there?" he called out, moving toward the source of the sound.  "Gotta say right now, you're gonna regret sneaking up on me like this."

 

So far he couldn't see anything; perhaps it was just a squirrel or some other animal that had made the warehouse its home.

[Dave 5,715]

-Kuja

 

 

             "Hm. Well, the only power I have, sir, is the power to use a pen, and push a mower. I'd eat a decent meal over mowing someone's lawn any day, but I'd rather starve than desert my personal projects. The way you talk... you're an artist of some sorts as well, aren't you?" 

 

Myles was pleased that Zachary was able to deduce he was an artist; not only did it mean that Myles was succeeding in carrying himself in a manner that signified intellect, pastiche, and high brow grandeur, but it also meant that at the very least he found himself in the company of a layman (one who who even confess to mowing lawns, no less!) who was capable of recognizing greatness when it was in the same room as him. "An artist, though I'm inclined to believe I'm more than one of 'some sorts.' Being the only one that this town has ever produced, I should think I should be considered something of a marvel." Loathe though he might have been to admit it, Myles found himself enjoying the conversation after being cooped up in his room for so long, and at least this Zachary was willing to listen. "And you,  you mentioned your pursuits with a pen?" he asked as the car pulled into the diner. "What prose do you produce? I'm certain a man like you can do more than recall gripping memoirs of mowed lawns."

 

"Well, now, Mr. Myles, I'm sure we want to get to the diner without a whole slew of police officers at our heels for slaughtering all of these pedestrians, wouldn't you say?" said Scarlet.

 

Myles gave an airy laugh. "As a car filled with writers and artists, some would make the argument that if the police aren't after we aren't being pursued by police, we simply aren't doing our jobs, no?" he asked as he stepped out of the car, following Scarlet to the diner.