Post by Goya on Sept 13, 2017 0:51:25 GMT
<<< Ships Passing in the Night - Part 1
Kicking off from his step, Goya earnestly lifted into a light but swift jog, through the damp and bleak back alley. The craggy surface was muddied by large puddles and wet dirt, with cracks so deep it made traversing the thin corridor all the more hazardous. Not the least helped by the numerous garbage cans and sacks that lined the rear walls of the stores, waste piled up so high that, because of the flood of water that pounded down from the heavens, had now frequently spilt out over the backstreet.
Vaulting over soggy towers of old newspapers like a hurdler in the Olympics, Goya pressed on deeper into the cavernous passage. His wet feet felt like ice, bathed in the cold water that was thrashing around in his sneakers, gurgling and wheezing liquid with every pounding footfall the teen strode.
In stark contrast, the day had started off so beautifully. A blue sky as clear and crisp and blue as the ocean, wispy thin airy clouds drifted in the heavens under the baking ball sun.
Having met Lugs in the warm afternoon and headed off to the batting cages, the weather had gradually begun to shift. The daylight autumn moon had emerged high above the city, and where light floaty clouds had trailed lines of white across the blue sky, they had long been replaced by puffy pillows blocking out the warmth of the sun and staining the celestial plains in gravel-grey.
The temperature plummeted as a caustic wind stirred, whistling and huffing through the maze-like cross-stitch of avenues and roads that served as the lifeblood of the sprawling metropolis. Small pearl drops slowly dotted the pavements and concrete, yet it's light spray and cool touch was initially lost on the two teens, their attention solely occupied with practising striking the ball with their bat, and teasing one another during the process.
The sudden arrival of a sheet of rain that crashed down with reckless abandon finally interrupted the youngster's game. The sound moving from the gentle pitter-patter to the drumming thud-thud-thud like fat ripe apples made dropping to the grassy ground. Soon gone was the gentle engorged droplets that often came with a late Summer's rain, replaced by sharp heavy pellets stinging anyone that was caught in their descent.
Hurrying away for shelter, Goya and Lugs stood sodden and cold, huddled under the open canopy of a nearby grocery store. There they stood watching the storm roll in, the rumbling clatter of thunder orchestrating the masses into a desperate retreat from the elements. Having hoped the bleak weather would pass over, ultimately, the two teens gave up waiting and like so many others were forced into the cold wet to make their journey home.
The boys didn't live too far away, yet by the end of just one block, both were so thoroughly soaked that it no longer mattered if they took public transport or ran the rest of their journey home. It was during that journey, that Lugs noticed the crime scene that they were now both frantically fleeing from.
An arid sensation began to parch the back of Goya's throat as he sprinted, his breath rhythmically calming his thudding chest, frigid under the young man's drenched varsity jacket and dripping tee shirt. The same couldn't be said for his friend, however, the teen able to discern the wheezing nasal huffs that emanated from Lugs, the youngster struggling and lagging a few feet in the hybrid's wake. Straining to maintain Komorebi's speed as his lead kicked spray up into the Namekian's path.
Sensing Lugs' struggle, Goya slowed a step, craning his head back, tilting his frame to see back along the long winding corridor the two teens had escaped into. Dimly lit as the alley was, the hybrid was barely able to make out much beyond the last few rows of shop rears, the insistent rain creating a wall of noise and blurs, rendering seeing anything beyond a few hundred meters nigh impossible.
"I ca- I..." He heard his friend stammer breathlessly. Nodding in reply, Goya turned back, returning his attention to the way forward. Noticing a gap between two buildings, Komorebi led the man into the dark slip as he drew his pace to a pause and allowed the Namekian to finally stop. The hybrid smirked watching the alien slump against the saturated brick wall, heaving in large gulps of air hoping to dispell the wincing pain that had formed within his chest. "Are you going to be sick?," Goya started, "You look a bit green!"
A grin drew across Komorebi's expression as the teal skinned Namekian hissed raspily, offering up a middle finger as an initial reply to the question. Peering back into the long alleyway, Goya remained alert, studying the dew and shadows for any hint of action. He doubted they were actually being followed or even chased. The noise of the rain as loud as it was, couldn't have masked the shouts or wails of sirens that might have pursued the two youngsters. Still, the teen was unnerved enough to be on edge.
"I- It's th- the rain!" Offered the Namekian finally, heaving the words up out of his chest immediately drawing a sheepish expression from his companion as Goya lifted his brow though continued to stalk the path of their retreat. "You mean it's all that candy you stuff in your face!"
"Not everyone goes running first thing in the morning like you do," Lugs protested, "You're a freak!"
A small chuckle flittered from Goya's lips as he finally broke his concentration from guarding their retreat. Eyeing the green-skinned alien knowingly. If only you knew buddy, considered the hybrid. He knew he wasn't the only person to have such a demanding physical schedule, there were many fighters across the land that was a lot more dedicated than Goya and trained far harder. Still, it was as natural to the teen as breathing. He barely remembered a time where the hybrid wasn't training. Be that with his mother before her death, or now as an adult. Alone.
"You could always train with me if you like," suggested the teen. Lugs scoffed. "And why the hell would I want to do that? Man, I need my beauty sleep! It's mandatory. Ain't easy to look this good, y'know!" Goya's smirk grew, his mind quick to continue with his teasing, "Good? Surely you mean round?"
"Oh screw you, dude!" Protested the Namekian, lifting a hand to shove Komorebi's shoulder playfully as he continued, "If you paid just half as much attention to the world around you as you did your training, then maybe you wouldn't still be a virgin!"
Goya's grin further hooked his wet cheeks up under his almond shaped eyes, the tension in his form dissipating with each passing second they stood free of fear they were being chased and the friendly ridiculing he was currently suffering. "That's cold..." Goya responded with, his grin still holding, "Especially as that came from a Namekian!"
Lugs chuckled, "Well at least one of us is trying to get you laid."
Rolling his eyes, the hybrid peered back along the slippery passage, the sheen of damp floor glittering under the dull lights. The downpour still maintaining its fervour at lashing the ground, splashed and rattled against the walls and shutters of the stores. Even taking stock behind the building as they did, their position didn't prevent the two from feeling the lashing torrent of rain. Idly wondering for a moment's pause as to when the weather would finally lift, the chill of the night prickled at the back of Goya's shoulders.
"So, who do you think that was?" Asked Lugs nervously, gone the clownish expression he had worn during his exchange with his close friend. Pensively Goya shrugged as he held his tongue in silent contemplation. I dunno, his inner voice sounded.
A reflective frown settled atop his brow, folding creased at the top of his nose. There must have been a reason for her to be staring at me like that, considered the teen. Cognitive that he had not been suppressing his Ki, he wondered if this had drawn the woman's curiosity. Surely she didn't think we were involved in whatever happened? Goya asked himself. Reliving the moment the frigid female targeted him with her wintry stare, a subtle detail slowly crept into the fore of his mind.
"She didn't look like police," spoke the teen, sounded out as the cog wheels of his consciousness churned and span, allowing his blue gaze to draw back to the Namekian, "I mean, she wore a badge and all but the way she held herself, the way she looked?" Lugs blinked, his brows furrowed over his wide green eyes, "She looked more like a Demon than I do, that's for sure!" The green skinned alien smirked to himself, hoping that his humour would lighten the mood before he elicited a sigh and sank against the wall, inclining his head back as he glanced up at the black sky.
"Think she made us?" Asked the Namekian, the sharp tone returning to his blunt question.
Komorebi knew there was always a chance someone would come looking for him, given his abrupt and destructive departure from the internment camp the military had placed him within. Having used his Ki in the manner he did, the aggression he showed, since that day Goya had lived his life as off the grid and cautious as he possibly could. The lack of any trust for those in power kept him from trusting nearly anyone save Lugs, and if it weren't for the Namekian, the hybrid wondered if he had managed to get this far.
Even though the alien wasn't the most intimidating of sights given his hippy and fashionable appearance, the emotional support he offered had a stabilising effect on the teen. Though they were good friends, the realities of their situation, the fact both men had lost their parents because of the war, it had made their bond as strong as steel. Goya relied on Lugs as much as Lugs relied on him. Any threat to one was a threat to both. "If she did, we wouldn't be standing here in the rain talking about it. We just need to be a little more careful, like not going to have look at crime scenes when there's a slim chance one of us might have an APB out on their head..."
He smirked, hoping his teasing would sink in with the Namekian, but to his confusion Lugs was too preoccupied with staring up at the sky, his expression completely consumed with the task. "You see that?" Asked the alien. Frowning, Goya peered up, following his friend's curiosity, "See what?" A hint of a sigh lifted from his chest as another shudder coiled its way around the hybrid's spine, involuntarily making the youngster fidget and move away, "Come on dude, let's go," he asked, the chill of the night making the teen wish for a hot shower at the earliest possible convenience.
"Wait for it," insisted the alien, nodding once more to the heavens. Groaning under his breath, Goya once more looked up. "I don't see any-" A shadow flashed across the gap between the buildings. Humanoid in shape, the figure was mostly masked by the rain, the dark silhouette barely discernable if one did not pay mind to what was happening above their own heads.
"THERE-IT-IS-AGAIN!" Lugs exclaimed. "You saw that right?"
Goya nodded, confusion bedraggled his wet looks, lifting a hand to sweep back the sticky dampness of his fringe. Why would anyone be- "Come on, let's go look!" Demanded the Namekian, already springing into action, hurrying alongside the building in quick pace, desperate to keep track. "Wait-what?" Called Goya, now following suit, "I just said we shouldn't go looking for trouble!" The Namekian had miraculously found his energy and speed, taking off so quick that even if the alien called back, the rain would no doubt drown out the sound before Komorebi could discern what was said.
Sighing, Goya ruefully shook his head. Same old Lugs.
Kicking off from his step, Goya earnestly lifted into a light but swift jog, through the damp and bleak back alley. The craggy surface was muddied by large puddles and wet dirt, with cracks so deep it made traversing the thin corridor all the more hazardous. Not the least helped by the numerous garbage cans and sacks that lined the rear walls of the stores, waste piled up so high that, because of the flood of water that pounded down from the heavens, had now frequently spilt out over the backstreet.
Vaulting over soggy towers of old newspapers like a hurdler in the Olympics, Goya pressed on deeper into the cavernous passage. His wet feet felt like ice, bathed in the cold water that was thrashing around in his sneakers, gurgling and wheezing liquid with every pounding footfall the teen strode.
In stark contrast, the day had started off so beautifully. A blue sky as clear and crisp and blue as the ocean, wispy thin airy clouds drifted in the heavens under the baking ball sun.
Having met Lugs in the warm afternoon and headed off to the batting cages, the weather had gradually begun to shift. The daylight autumn moon had emerged high above the city, and where light floaty clouds had trailed lines of white across the blue sky, they had long been replaced by puffy pillows blocking out the warmth of the sun and staining the celestial plains in gravel-grey.
The temperature plummeted as a caustic wind stirred, whistling and huffing through the maze-like cross-stitch of avenues and roads that served as the lifeblood of the sprawling metropolis. Small pearl drops slowly dotted the pavements and concrete, yet it's light spray and cool touch was initially lost on the two teens, their attention solely occupied with practising striking the ball with their bat, and teasing one another during the process.
The sudden arrival of a sheet of rain that crashed down with reckless abandon finally interrupted the youngster's game. The sound moving from the gentle pitter-patter to the drumming thud-thud-thud like fat ripe apples made dropping to the grassy ground. Soon gone was the gentle engorged droplets that often came with a late Summer's rain, replaced by sharp heavy pellets stinging anyone that was caught in their descent.
Hurrying away for shelter, Goya and Lugs stood sodden and cold, huddled under the open canopy of a nearby grocery store. There they stood watching the storm roll in, the rumbling clatter of thunder orchestrating the masses into a desperate retreat from the elements. Having hoped the bleak weather would pass over, ultimately, the two teens gave up waiting and like so many others were forced into the cold wet to make their journey home.
The boys didn't live too far away, yet by the end of just one block, both were so thoroughly soaked that it no longer mattered if they took public transport or ran the rest of their journey home. It was during that journey, that Lugs noticed the crime scene that they were now both frantically fleeing from.
An arid sensation began to parch the back of Goya's throat as he sprinted, his breath rhythmically calming his thudding chest, frigid under the young man's drenched varsity jacket and dripping tee shirt. The same couldn't be said for his friend, however, the teen able to discern the wheezing nasal huffs that emanated from Lugs, the youngster struggling and lagging a few feet in the hybrid's wake. Straining to maintain Komorebi's speed as his lead kicked spray up into the Namekian's path.
Sensing Lugs' struggle, Goya slowed a step, craning his head back, tilting his frame to see back along the long winding corridor the two teens had escaped into. Dimly lit as the alley was, the hybrid was barely able to make out much beyond the last few rows of shop rears, the insistent rain creating a wall of noise and blurs, rendering seeing anything beyond a few hundred meters nigh impossible.
"I ca- I..." He heard his friend stammer breathlessly. Nodding in reply, Goya turned back, returning his attention to the way forward. Noticing a gap between two buildings, Komorebi led the man into the dark slip as he drew his pace to a pause and allowed the Namekian to finally stop. The hybrid smirked watching the alien slump against the saturated brick wall, heaving in large gulps of air hoping to dispell the wincing pain that had formed within his chest. "Are you going to be sick?," Goya started, "You look a bit green!"
A grin drew across Komorebi's expression as the teal skinned Namekian hissed raspily, offering up a middle finger as an initial reply to the question. Peering back into the long alleyway, Goya remained alert, studying the dew and shadows for any hint of action. He doubted they were actually being followed or even chased. The noise of the rain as loud as it was, couldn't have masked the shouts or wails of sirens that might have pursued the two youngsters. Still, the teen was unnerved enough to be on edge.
"I- It's th- the rain!" Offered the Namekian finally, heaving the words up out of his chest immediately drawing a sheepish expression from his companion as Goya lifted his brow though continued to stalk the path of their retreat. "You mean it's all that candy you stuff in your face!"
"Not everyone goes running first thing in the morning like you do," Lugs protested, "You're a freak!"
A small chuckle flittered from Goya's lips as he finally broke his concentration from guarding their retreat. Eyeing the green-skinned alien knowingly. If only you knew buddy, considered the hybrid. He knew he wasn't the only person to have such a demanding physical schedule, there were many fighters across the land that was a lot more dedicated than Goya and trained far harder. Still, it was as natural to the teen as breathing. He barely remembered a time where the hybrid wasn't training. Be that with his mother before her death, or now as an adult. Alone.
"You could always train with me if you like," suggested the teen. Lugs scoffed. "And why the hell would I want to do that? Man, I need my beauty sleep! It's mandatory. Ain't easy to look this good, y'know!" Goya's smirk grew, his mind quick to continue with his teasing, "Good? Surely you mean round?"
"Oh screw you, dude!" Protested the Namekian, lifting a hand to shove Komorebi's shoulder playfully as he continued, "If you paid just half as much attention to the world around you as you did your training, then maybe you wouldn't still be a virgin!"
Goya's grin further hooked his wet cheeks up under his almond shaped eyes, the tension in his form dissipating with each passing second they stood free of fear they were being chased and the friendly ridiculing he was currently suffering. "That's cold..." Goya responded with, his grin still holding, "Especially as that came from a Namekian!"
Lugs chuckled, "Well at least one of us is trying to get you laid."
Rolling his eyes, the hybrid peered back along the slippery passage, the sheen of damp floor glittering under the dull lights. The downpour still maintaining its fervour at lashing the ground, splashed and rattled against the walls and shutters of the stores. Even taking stock behind the building as they did, their position didn't prevent the two from feeling the lashing torrent of rain. Idly wondering for a moment's pause as to when the weather would finally lift, the chill of the night prickled at the back of Goya's shoulders.
"So, who do you think that was?" Asked Lugs nervously, gone the clownish expression he had worn during his exchange with his close friend. Pensively Goya shrugged as he held his tongue in silent contemplation. I dunno, his inner voice sounded.
A reflective frown settled atop his brow, folding creased at the top of his nose. There must have been a reason for her to be staring at me like that, considered the teen. Cognitive that he had not been suppressing his Ki, he wondered if this had drawn the woman's curiosity. Surely she didn't think we were involved in whatever happened? Goya asked himself. Reliving the moment the frigid female targeted him with her wintry stare, a subtle detail slowly crept into the fore of his mind.
"She didn't look like police," spoke the teen, sounded out as the cog wheels of his consciousness churned and span, allowing his blue gaze to draw back to the Namekian, "I mean, she wore a badge and all but the way she held herself, the way she looked?" Lugs blinked, his brows furrowed over his wide green eyes, "She looked more like a Demon than I do, that's for sure!" The green skinned alien smirked to himself, hoping that his humour would lighten the mood before he elicited a sigh and sank against the wall, inclining his head back as he glanced up at the black sky.
"Think she made us?" Asked the Namekian, the sharp tone returning to his blunt question.
Komorebi knew there was always a chance someone would come looking for him, given his abrupt and destructive departure from the internment camp the military had placed him within. Having used his Ki in the manner he did, the aggression he showed, since that day Goya had lived his life as off the grid and cautious as he possibly could. The lack of any trust for those in power kept him from trusting nearly anyone save Lugs, and if it weren't for the Namekian, the hybrid wondered if he had managed to get this far.
Even though the alien wasn't the most intimidating of sights given his hippy and fashionable appearance, the emotional support he offered had a stabilising effect on the teen. Though they were good friends, the realities of their situation, the fact both men had lost their parents because of the war, it had made their bond as strong as steel. Goya relied on Lugs as much as Lugs relied on him. Any threat to one was a threat to both. "If she did, we wouldn't be standing here in the rain talking about it. We just need to be a little more careful, like not going to have look at crime scenes when there's a slim chance one of us might have an APB out on their head..."
He smirked, hoping his teasing would sink in with the Namekian, but to his confusion Lugs was too preoccupied with staring up at the sky, his expression completely consumed with the task. "You see that?" Asked the alien. Frowning, Goya peered up, following his friend's curiosity, "See what?" A hint of a sigh lifted from his chest as another shudder coiled its way around the hybrid's spine, involuntarily making the youngster fidget and move away, "Come on dude, let's go," he asked, the chill of the night making the teen wish for a hot shower at the earliest possible convenience.
"Wait for it," insisted the alien, nodding once more to the heavens. Groaning under his breath, Goya once more looked up. "I don't see any-" A shadow flashed across the gap between the buildings. Humanoid in shape, the figure was mostly masked by the rain, the dark silhouette barely discernable if one did not pay mind to what was happening above their own heads.
"THERE-IT-IS-AGAIN!" Lugs exclaimed. "You saw that right?"
Goya nodded, confusion bedraggled his wet looks, lifting a hand to sweep back the sticky dampness of his fringe. Why would anyone be- "Come on, let's go look!" Demanded the Namekian, already springing into action, hurrying alongside the building in quick pace, desperate to keep track. "Wait-what?" Called Goya, now following suit, "I just said we shouldn't go looking for trouble!" The Namekian had miraculously found his energy and speed, taking off so quick that even if the alien called back, the rain would no doubt drown out the sound before Komorebi could discern what was said.
Sighing, Goya ruefully shook his head. Same old Lugs.
