an unguarded future [zidane/open]

[Lightning Farron |]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style,width:450px;height:60px;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/OrPoh.png);][style=float:right;font-size:40px;letter-spacing:-1px;margin-right:10px;text-shadow: 2px 2px 1px #aaaaaa;]♔ checkmate,[/style]

[atrb=style,width:450px;height:250px;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/dDxps.png);][atrb=valign,top][style=float:left;height:100px;width:100px;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/3fPTG.png);-webkit-border-radius:50px;-moz-border-radius:50px;border-radius:50px; margin-left:17.5px;margin-top:7px;][style=margin-top:110px; text-align:center;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/OrPoh.png);color:#f0f0f0;font-family:georgia;font-style:italic;letter-spacing:-1px;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #cccccc;]words,[/style][style=font-family:arial;font-size:10px;color:#0f0f0f;overflow: auto;]367[/style][style=text-align:center;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/OrPoh.png);color:#f0f0f0;font-family:georgia;font-style:italic;margin-top:7px;letter-spacing:-1px;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #cccccc;]tags,[/style][style=font-family:arial;font-size:10px;color:#0f0f0f; overflow: auto;]zidane & open[/style][style=text-align:center;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/OrPoh.png);color:#f0f0f0;font-family:georgia;font-style:italic;margin-top:7px;letter-spacing:-1px;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #cccccc;]notes,[/style][style=font-family:arial;font-size:10px;color:#0f0f0f;text-align:justify;]bad habits and scared peeps[/style][/style][style=width:300px;height:250px;float:right;overflow:auto;font-family:arial;font-size:10px;text-align:justify; text-transform:lowercase;color:#0f0f0f;padding:5px 5px 5px 5px;border-left:5px double #404040;]Flap flap. Tap tap tap tap tap. Creak-thump. These were the sounds that followed the walking anomaly known as Lightning Farron, a few strands of pink hair waving in the very slight breeze winding between the stone buildings. The avenue she traversed was large, but surprisingly devoid of many people; however, the gazes of almost all of these individuals could be felt on her, making the ex-soldier's skin prickle with their judging intensity. Ignoring the strange looks and (supposed) unusual quietude, the woman strode up the street as if she owned the place; she would not admit it, as ice-blue eyes darted to and fro, taking in the landscape around her, but she was hopelessly lost. She recognized nothing about this city. Nothing at all. It didn't resemble the ruins of Gran Pulse in any way - besides, there were people in it. Nor was it Cocoon; this she knew deep in her bones, even if she hadn't seen every city and town there was to speak of on the floating continent. The only locale she had seen that was even remotely similar to this... city-state(? The word was archaic, but it seemed accurate) was Lake Bresha's ruins, and only just passably. Enough, she decided, cutting herself off. Resisting the urge to sink her incisor into her bottom lip (she hadn't bitten them since she was fifteen, and she damn well wasn't going to start again now), Lightning took a sudden left onto a smaller street. This one had a few market stands, and a wagon scattered here and there, but any amiable chatter as civilians traded fruits and vegetables fell quiet as she passed. Her clothing was enough to mark her as an outsider, even if her hair hadn't been such an interesting hue - the wine-colored cape hanging from her shoulder snapped gently as she made her way through the "bustling" marketplace, the case of her gunblade thumping against the backs of her thighs. The metal pauldron atop her left shoulder creaked slightly, and her boots hit the cobblestones with a taptaptap. They watched her with wide eyes, followed her with whispers of shock and distrust. Not of curiosity - of fear. What happened here?[/style]

[style=font-size:8px;font-family:arial;]made by naoxy of ote, btn, & gs[/style]

[Zidane Tribal]

[style= font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11px; text-align: justify; line-height: 12px; padding: 5px;] Alexadria: a kingdom once known for its glory and passion for its citizens. Alexadria: a kingdom in which, once again, was struggling to reclaim what precious power it deserved. A seemingly impossible task without their monarch, Garnet Til Alexandros XVII. Said Queen was known to be devoted to her nation and its citizens; no wonder panic nearly swept the land when word of her disappearance caught wind. If not for General Beatrix, head commander of the Alexandria army, the city would have fallen.

With said General in command searches became customary; any citizen was eligible to assist the knights. On this particular day, at the gates, a party wasn’t sent out. In fact a group was due to return before the break of dawn. An audience gathered at the hatchway, word spread like wildfire of the homecoming. Some citizens stood waiting, some floating with the use of magic, children resting upon shoulders, for the gates to open. There was lack of socializing, unusual for a large crowd. An eerie muteness, as if Silence was cast, no one uttered speech. Until a single breathe revealed the time. Then, like a wave crashing, words flew in a fizz fashion. It was now noon; the returning horde was late.

Gears creaking broke the buzzing chaos, drawing all attention. The thick, mahogany, door swung open gingerly (minus the effort the soldiers had to make to open said door). Citizens of all ages held their breath, all careening forward. The creaking ceased and from the hatchway came the first knight; armor glistening in the rays. Following suit came more figures, pushing themselves forward into the city.

Among the younger men stood an individual, whom (unlike the others) wasn’t laboring for breath. He stood erect, golden locks whisking in brisk breeze, with his gaze poised forward; baby blues would fail in concealing the man’s pain. The search came up empty, again, and sent the crowd into a solemn mood. Several prayed to Alexander, while others began to speak of giving up. Those words made goosebumps coaxed his skin. Fighting the urge to huddle inside his parka in defeat, Zidane would sink into the shadows.

Moving along the constricted stone walls the genome would release an audible sigh. He couldn’t comprehend how the citizens could be giving up hope so soon. If they loved her so much, then why ever give up? Zidane only let his gaze slip to his boots, covered in drying mud. Maybe they were facing a reality the blonde could not; after all, his love was on whole other level compared to her subjects. With a shake of his head, Zidane still scuffed of their reasons. If they truly loved their Queen, they’d never give up.

Giggles would reach his ears as Zidane came to a halt. Without even a turn of his head came the scene; children playing the classic game of jump-rope. By the looks of it, he concluded, boys and girls were having a competition against each other. He’d flash a smile at the game. It was innocent moments, signs of hope despite peril times, like this that had kept the party going. Vivi and Eiko often had to play to deal with the straining events; both were still entitled to their childhood.

The game would die as the children ceased movement. All gazes were straight ahead, lingering through the genome, before names hit the air. Though hesitant the children would take shelter. This sudden turn of events would spike curiosity within Zidane’s veins. He’d turn on his heels and his attention would fall to a particular sight.

Coral hair cascading into a large curl, eyes of spring green, and the most unusual clothing Zidane had ever witnessed. Long, slender built, legs moved in a strong stride, indicating one of pride and power. The woman came off with an air of everything she touched, she owned. Despite her cool composer, Zidane gave a ghost of a smirk, her eyes revealed another story. Having experienced similar looks on his friends, Zidane could only take an educated guess. With a flick of his tail, Zidane flashed a grin and speak out.

”What’s this, a damsel in distress?” A grin that only grew with each approaching step,”Can’t say we get many of those here anymore.”

OOC: I got permission from Marsh to mention Beatrix creating search parties for Garnet.

[/style]

[Lightning Farron |]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style,width:450px;height:60px;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/OrPoh.png);][style=float:right;font-size:40px;letter-spacing:-1px;margin-right:10px;text-shadow: 2px 2px 1px #aaaaaa;]♔ checkmate,[/style]

[atrb=style,width:450px;height:250px;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/dDxps.png);][atrb=valign,top][style=float:left;height:100px;width:100px;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/3fPTG.png);-webkit-border-radius:50px;-moz-border-radius:50px;border-radius:50px; margin-left:17.5px;margin-top:7px;][style=margin-top:110px; text-align:center;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/OrPoh.png);color:#f0f0f0;font-family:georgia;font-style:italic;letter-spacing:-1px;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #cccccc;]words,[/style][style=font-family:arial;font-size:10px;color:#0f0f0f;overflow: auto;]287[/style][style=text-align:center;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/OrPoh.png);color:#f0f0f0;font-family:georgia;font-style:italic;margin-top:7px;letter-spacing:-1px;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #cccccc;]tags,[/style][style=font-family:arial;font-size:10px;color:#0f0f0f; overflow: auto;]zidane & open[/style][style=text-align:center;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/OrPoh.png);color:#f0f0f0;font-family:georgia;font-style:italic;margin-top:7px;letter-spacing:-1px;text-shadow: 1px 1px 1px #cccccc;]notes,[/style][style=font-family:arial;font-size:10px;color:#0f0f0f;text-align:justify;]unleash the spectacle[/style][/style][style=width:300px;height:250px;float:right;overflow:auto;font-family:arial;font-size:10px;text-align:justify; text-transform:lowercase;color:#0f0f0f;padding:5px 5px 5px 5px;border-left:5px double #404040;]It was almost easy, after a while, to pretend she was the only one around. Far from the hyper-tense alertness she had fallen victim to as a l'Cie, Lightning ignored the idea of any threat around her, expressing single-minded focus upon her task. She remembered words spoken to a young man, once. The idea of this "strategy". How long ago the Gapra Whitewood seemed, though it couldn't have happened but two months before. Icy eyes skimmed over the populace as she passed through them, seeing nothing but their body language. Somewhere, she figured this could probably be counted as "disturbing the peace", but she ignored the thought as she continued looking - for what? A way out? Peace and quiet? A friendly face? Or perhaps a reaction beyond stunned silence. She had not noticed her pace quickening, until she had a reason to stop and turn; a young voice, not loud or high-pitched, but still piercing in the near-silence, coming from her left. ”What’s this, a damsel in distress?” Lightning frowned, her instinct to rebuke cowed by a small detail: is that a tail? The young man came closer, sporting an infernal grin that reminded her, irrationally, of a tall and broad blonde and the urge to punch - ”Can’t say we get many of those here anymore.” There were about ten different ways in which Lightning wanted to respond to that, but the least barbed statement was the one that made it out of her mouth, much to her chagrin. "And why's that?" the woman queried flatly, folding her arms. She just knew... this boy was going to be trouble. She could feel it.[/style]

[style=font-size:8px;font-family:arial;]made by naoxy of ote, btn, & gs[/style]