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10.3.2017 - A mysterious light filled the Sea of Skies. Those who wielded great power and abilities found themselves back at square one, as if reset.


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Weasel
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Post Count : 5
Well, that wasn't a good idea. Maybe I shouldn't have taunted that guard about his donut...Thennnn agaiiiiin it was fun seeing that kid he cut in front snicker at him. Weasel was thinking a bit too much, feeling the cycling of his feet getting a bit too harsh as he ran through the hot sun with way too much leather on. His flowing streak of hair radiated a bright red in the sun with emerald eyes actually seeing the light of day. People on the street look at this pale punk and see a cave dweller. Weasel sees this pale punk and sees an unfortunate inability to produce any sort of melanin or keratin.

The guards were hot on his trail, and the smoldering cobblestone was hot on his feet. He tried his best to make a mad dash, eventually finding a dark alley to hide himself, despite the bright red attire. As the guards, who were relaxing during a calm day, huffed and puffed around the plaza, Weasel made use of their lazy necks and the tall rooftops to slowly retreat to a different portion of Radiant Garden's city. Wandering about, trying to breathe in the air of the city and its surprisingly pleasant aroma, Weasel smiled. He smiled at the bustling nature and sweet flowers.

At the happy children and lazy guards. This part of Radiant Garden was nice. He assumed there were poorer areas with higher crime rates, but he wasn't a hero. He wasn't interested in seeing those parts of the city. Maybe someone could come and give him perspective, but he rather enjoyed annoying the guards and exploring the radiant side of the aforementioned garden. Well, maybe that was a bit harder with him shoving a donut in a guard's face and smearing it. THEN taunting him and smacking his coffee out of his hand and booking it.

Maybe he'd need to occupy himself soon, hero or villain. There really wasn't much motivation since he lacked real influence. Weasel bumped into a middle-aged women, beautifully set into her sundress. They made quick conversation, but she wasn't particularly interesting to him so he swiped her munny purse and made some sort of excuse to walk away. She was initially nervous because of his appearance, but she mellowed down to a regular attitude.

He wasn't really that bad of a guy. Sure, he just stole her munny. But that's just a helpful hand in his health! He had to eat, and he had to sleep. Rent wasn't cheap, so he needed to find munny someway. it became harder to find jobs once his hands became a problem, but the loose purses of R-G were helpful enough. Weasel continued his walk, sighing out of frustration to the idea of having such a routine.

He just needed a little perspective.

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Fuyuko
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Post Count : 4
MAG : 10
Fuyuko walked down the street, feeling depressed. She had almost no sleep the night before, messed up half her chores, and now had to go all the way to the market area to get supplies to repair the training dummies at her sister's dojo, "Just once, I'd like to not be my sister's wife." In a fit of whimsy, or perhaps fate, she looked up in time to see a mohawk running along the roof. Wait, what? She followed as best she could, not really paying attention and somehow dodging the people around her. The mohawk vanished and she panicked for a brief moment before remembering a spell that let her hear...plants. The only spell aside from cure magic she was proficient at. She could also kinda sorta create faint balls of light and make small illusions, but for the most part she...and once again the dark cloud was over her head as she looked around. There! The mohawk was literally only a few feet away from her. And then she saw it was attached to a person, Not magic hair. Darn. She was about to turn away when a small voice told her to go talk to him, Nonononononononononono! I c-c-can't! I-I-I-I don't know what to say! Why would I talk to some scary guy in the first place?
SHe was frozen with indecision, feeling like she had to do something but terrified to act.

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Weasel
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Post Count : 5
Weasel, thankful that the guards were finally off his tail, didn't really expect for someone to approach him about the running on the buildings. Usually, nobody really cared enough to leave whatever building he kicked a tile off. Hearing someone approach only a mere few feet away, he cocked one of his eye-brows, removing the shadow cascading over his pale eye sockets. The vibrant emerald sheen pierced through and he ran his right hand through that cherry mohawk of his.

"Oi, if you see some tin-head, ticket-hand bastards come this way...don't tell them I was here. Uh, sorry if I kicked off a tile or two." Weasel got a strong whiff of assumption from the girl, seemingly off-put by him. Likely that sweet mohawk and punk-style clothing of his. People didn't like exotic colors in clothes or hair, and they especially didn't like leather. Weasel couldn't decide whether or not he wanted to let out a small laugh or roll his eyes, so he did neither.

"Uh, by the way, you are indeed very much out-of-place. Relax, Weasel ain't gonna bite." Weasel made a soft, mocking chomp towards the girl, putting his hands up towards her like they were the claws of a beast. Returning his hands to his pockets, he gave the girl a second to speak. If she didn't, he wasn't going to be interested enough to stay. Too boring.

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Fuyuko
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Post Count : 4
MAG : 10
Fuyuko's internal debate ended when the man addressed her, "EEP! I-I-I'll keep that in m-m-m-mind" She stuttered as he came closer to her. When he made the chomping sound, she nearly fainted. The only thing keeping her on her feet was knowing that her sister would have 'special training' if she had to be hunted down again.
"Why were you on the roofs? Isn't the ground good enough for running away?" The still small voice was gone for now, so maybe she was on the right track? "I-I'm Fuyuko by the way. My sister owns the dojo over by the gate." She pushed her fingers together trying to think of something to say. She really liked the mohawk. The jacket and the chains hanging off his belt loop drew her eye. The chains she liked, the jacket...maybe. Something about leather and metal combined like that didn't seem to sit right. Internally filing that away for another time, Fuyuko realized she had had several sentences with a stranger who was also a boy. She blushed a little and looked at a nearby flower hoping to hide it.

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Weasel
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Post Count : 5
Weasel watched the girl squirm at his initial approach, but eventually she seemed to settle into a calmer awkwardness. It was funny to him, the clear innocence and fragility which contrasted with the idea of a dojo. Her sister must be much tougher than her. She seemed so young and naive, which was the assumed trait of such anxiety towards someone as broad-looking as Weasel. She seemed to question his tactics of escape, which he responded with a lot of build-up to his answer. Brushing his hand through his mohawk and taking a dramatic pose, he pointed at her.

"I have no idea!" Resuming a neutral state, he crossed his arms and prepared a more serious answer. "Seriously, they are not athletic. At least, not with their gear and definitely not those who patrol at day. I assume--HOPE even--their elite are reserved for real threats." Weasel chuckled at the idea of the whole military being obese, blue-armored, ticket-flailing coppers. "They won't really follow me on the rooftops, for the same reason people don't like me running on them. Runs the bill government's bill. Anyways, the dojo's nice. I'll check it out sometime." Weasel kicked at the ground, forgetting that he hadn't returned the favor of introducing himself formally.

"Formal introduction: I'm Weasel. Local punk, not really a gangster though or anything hard. I, however, am indeed a learn-ed prankster." Kind of disinterested in the girl in front of him, he thought of some way to bring something out. She seemed 2-dimensional, undeveloped and too anxious. "Alright, tell me something interesting. Not like, favorite foods or whatever. Just, uh, anything interesting. Otherwise, I have a bar full of bad itches to tickle."

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