A blossoming friendship (Invite) (Chaya Black)

Kira pulled the fur of his heavy vest up to just below his eyes. What was with this part of the world. Too much sun, too much sand, too much wind. What a horrible combination of factors. He longed for the white deserts of snow that seemingly never ended and the pleasant sensation of a cool breeze. How or why would anyone in their right mind live here? He sighed and found an alleyway where the wind seemingly dissipated before entering. He curled up next to one of the stone walls and lowered himself to the ground. He crossed his legs and wondered how the hell he ended up so far this way. Some Namekian had promised a free ride back home if did just one small favor. Little did Kira know that the favor involved steeling spaceship, fighting his way through an army of angry Acrosians, and selling it to a hooded figure at an undisclosed location. After this point something hit the back of his head hard and he found himself in a swing set just outside of the Western Capital, a small child staring at him and the swing longingly supposedly till he woke from the headache of dreams that still ran around the inside of his skull. After that he just started walking and it kept working until he ended in the afore mentioned alleyway. The wind whistled outside the alleys entrance with the usual news paper or plastic cup meandering down the sidewalk to his front. He ran a bored hand through his hair and a stream of sand followed it through the red and brown strands. Kira pulled himself up and strolled down the alley with his hands firmly lodged in his pockets. Several dumpsters, manholes, and desert dwelling transients were scattered around the maze between various buildings and streets. Kira found himself finally popping out in front of a café with signs that... he couldn't actually read.

Well... if it gets me out of the sand.


 He tried to hid the grimace that fell over his face at the thought that he was still in this sandy hell. He opened the door to the café and without acknowledging anyone planted himself at the closest table. A waitress in a frilly outfit approached him but he was too enthralled with pretending to be interested in the menu in front of him to acknowledge her. His weighted clothes made a slight thudding sound when they came into contact with the cheapish wood chair.

God I hate the west.

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