03-06-2010, 03:48 AM
Clowns didn’t often make good conversationalists; Oscar was no exception. As he’d said so aptly, he was a very good listener—but that was as far as his skills stretched. The onyx-haired Saiyan could barely listen as he clumsily handled the task of describing this place—‘Kill Town.’ He was aware of this defect, however, and quickly shut his mouth and went for a different, more desirable option.
Juno continued to eat the extra salty popcorn as Oscar flitted away into the back room of the stall; his eyes glanced at the emerald green curtain, awaiting the clown’s return, but for a while, there wasn’t any sign of him.
“Here ya go!” Oscar said, rather eloquently, a few minutes later when he finally burst forth from the curtain. He held in his hand a sheet of paper folded into three parts, and slid it across the table to the fortuneteller as Juno traded him an empty popcorn container, which Oscar quickly filled, and slid back across the counter.
The future-seer thanked the carnie as he turned to walk away, sticking the box of popcorn underneath his shoulder, and opened the brochure. He smiled at its contents—a map of this horrific arena, from one end—the entrance/exit, which had a slightly eerie ‘Forbidden’ stamp upon it, to the very back, where Juno had found himself upon waking up. He resolved to use this map if he needed it, but for the moment, he wanted to explore blindly, so he slipped it in the inside pocket of his coat and resumed munching on his popcorn.
His feet trotted lazily through the dirt that made the carnival’s paths, and his neck twisted this way and that, looking at the many different lights and signs that were plastered above different booths and rides. More people were also walking around the carnival—he was no longer a citizen in a small town, as it were. Though the numbers still weren’t all that high, he was pretty sure that there were definitely more people than when he’d arrived.
Across the way, Juno spotted a game booth that looked promising—a batting cage. If there was one thing about him that was human, it would probably be his love for baseball; though he’d never actually been to a game, he had watched it on TV plenty of times, and when he’d had nothing else to do, had simply practiced his technique with a baseball bat… sometimes on the heads of insolent thugs. Nevertheless, he marched over to the booth and the clown at its head smiled broadly, opening the gate without even asking for compensation. His mind raced again—why didn’t anyone in this carnival accept money?
This was a very strange carnival.
“Alright, kids,” he whispered to himself, picking up the baseball bat as a few people in line leaned over the railing to get a better view, “Watch and learn.”
“Uh, sir…”
Juno turned on his heel, almost swinging the bat into the man’s head. “What?”
“Don’t you want to wear a helmet?” the guy in line asked, pointing to a few helmets sitting on a nearby table, “After all, a stray swing and you could get a really bad head injury.” Juno pretended, for a moment, as if he was considering the man’s suggestion, and then looked back to the disbeliever confidently.
“There won’t be any stray shots,” he assured him.
“Whatever you say, buddy,” the guy sighed.
Mental note: whack that guy in the skull with the baseball bat after showing what a farce this whole thing was. That thought out of the way, he turned back to the shooter, and nodded to the clown operating the thing. He saw the ball before it even shot out—his eyes glossed over, and inside the realm of his Foresight, he watched the path of the ball and then blinked, just as the thing shot out. He lined up his swing and knocked it back, sending the object flying over the batting cage and ‘out of the park,’ for lack of a better analogy. He glanced, through his peripherals, at the onlookers—the safety-obsessed guy’s jaw had dropped a few inches. Juno, however, simply smirked, nodding for the clown to shoot again.
WHACK—another home run. A couple of people emitted exclamatory expressions from behind him, and he turned, nodding his head and then taking a brief bow. He chuckled to himself—he probably looked pretty arrogant, but why the hell should he care? He stood up again, smiling to the crowd and turning back to the cage just in time to see the baseball before it whacked him in the forehead, knocking him off his feet.
He landed on his back, in the dirt, and quickly clutched his forehead, the throbbing becoming unbearable. He rolled onto his stomach and the slowly pushed himself off the ground—he didn’t want to strain himself, and he was afraid that a smack in the head might’ve been enough to make his sickness reappear. He stood up cautiously, rocking back and forth where he stood and catching his balance, his ears deafened to the laughter that now came from the line. He took his embarrassing walk of shame out of the batting cages and slowly slumped onto a nearby bench.
The clown operator of the batting cage walked over with a very sad clown look on his face, handing the half-Saiyan his half-empty box of popcorn. Juno thanked him weakly, and the clown smiled, waddling away.
He popped a couple of kernels of popcorn into his mouth and then scanned the surroundings—now, with a throbbing headache, he felt as if there was little to do but ponder the situation he’d been thrown into. He was at a carnival, possibly in some evil mastermind’s thrall, and now, he had hurt himself. What the hell else could possibly go wrong, here?
“Feeling blue?”
Juno jumped, falling off the bench and recoiling a bit before gazing up at the brown-haired woman who had magically appeared on the seat next to him. “Sorry,” she said, leaning over, “did I scare you? I didn’t mean to. I’m Mixie.”
The fortuneteller hesitated. “…Hello, Mixie.”
“I’m going to be your guide for the duration of Kill Town,” she introduced with an attractive smile, “I’m here talking to you because playing solo isn’t a wise idea in a game like this. You need a well-rounded party to keep yourself on your game.” Her smile broadened, but suddenly, even Juno’s faux-happiness had faded as he stood up and brushed himself off, honestly not really comprehending anything she’d said—playing solo? A ‘well-rounded party’? What the heck was that supposed to even mean? “Your options are limitless, though. One party’s already shaping up quite nicely—they’ve got an offense mage, a healer mage, and a warrior.”
Juno quirked an eyebrow. What was she talking about?
“Hmmm,” she muttered, surveying him, “You’re a rogue, yourself, I’d say, with a couple of special skills to assist with backstabs and the like. ‘Know your enemy.’ Good policy for a class like you. You’d be a good asset to Kaden’s team, statistics wise—”
“Kaden?” Juno thought out loud. He cringed—he didn’t much mind the blonde courier, but their personalities weren’t exactly the best match, and if he was here, then things just got a lot more complex. However, this did answer a question—other warriors were here, and he could be almost certain that they were kidnapped just as he was.
“Yes,” Mixie continued, “Kaden, Sophia, and Belle Hibiki—oh, and looks like someone new just popped in. Juunanagou, I think.”
Juno took a step back, faltering, “…Sophia?”
Mixie smiled. “Have fun!” she said, and suddenly stood from the bench, turning on her heel and disappearing in mid-step. Juno smiled, his spirits lifted. He would admit that his attraction to Sophia had faded—not that he didn’t still think she was hot—but more than that, she was a friend, even if only one that he’d made under pressure. He wouldn’t search out the carnival for her and Kaden, as he knew that they’d meet up eventually. He was happy, though, because now he did have someone he was familiar with in this game. Kaden being here was a blessing in disguise, as well, he knew; he wasn’t familiar with the other name, and though he’d met Piper, she wasn’t in the forefront of his mind.
One question was answered—are there others like me here, or am I a special case? Still, though, more questions lingered. The most prominent one: what the hell is going on? He was content to wait, though—at least for a little while. If what Mixie said was true, there were others here, and the ebony-haired Saiyan was almost certain that they were being collected, once again, for a game of life or death. He just had to figure out what kind of game of life or death, and mold himself to it. He was usually pretty good at games. Friend or Foe had been a first experience—losing so badly, not even getting to the top five—and he wasn’t about to repeat it.
No. If this was a game, he was going to win it.
In the mean time, he thought, he might as well entertain himself with some target practice—nothing too ‘fun’ like the batting cages, but there were definitely some rather large archery bull’s eyes that he could see through the chain link fence of the batting cage. He smirked, and thought of what Mixie had said—time to put his rogue skills into action, he thought, and quickly tossed his popcorn to the side and blasted the lock on the nearby door with a spark of ki.
He smiled, and before long, he’d set up one of the bull’s eyes and had backed up a good twenty feet or so. He lowered himself into a battle-stance; it’d been a while since he’d had to use one, but he still slipped into it like a charm, thrusting one of his palms out and holding the other safely near his chest, for blocking. He spread his legs and bent his front knee, stretching forward.
A small orb of ki began to kindle in his palm. He sighed; he had expected it to take a few seconds for his energy to start flowing, and after a short hiatus, a violet orb appeared cupped inside his fingers. He stared at the target, letting his eyes squint with focus, and then wound up and tossed the miniscule orb at the red-and-white circles. The ball of ki flew quickly toward its mark, not hitting the center but getting close enough that Juno was satisfied. “Not bad,” he said to himself, “But you’ve got more tricks up your sleeve.”
He smiled broadly, this time cupping his hands and letting a larger violet orb materialize between his fingers. “Come on,” he whispered, feeling the sweat begin to form on his brow. He had to get back into shape—his vacation, and the sickness, had sapped a lot of his energy, and now he struggled to do basic moves.
He thrust his arms out in front of him, releasing a Pop of ki from the orb he’d formulated. The continuous beam burst forth from the sphere in his hands, rushing toward the target as if it was a beautiful, razor sharp, violet sphere. It collided with the target head on and in the center, ripping the wooden circle to shreds right before his eyes. The beam dissipated as it collided with the target, and Juno dropped to his knees, breathing heavily. Impromptu training, perhaps, wasn’t the best of ideas. He looked up at the shattered bull’s eye, and grinned mischievously as smoke wafted off the pieces.
“Heh,” he chuckled quietly, “That counts, right?”
Gradually, he stood up again, and satisfied with his target practice, he slipped back through the gate and out into the thick of the carnival, which was steadily becoming more and more crowded. People walked past in lines, this way, and that, some looking slightly familiar, but then he could never be sure, there were blondes, there were red jackets, there were blue pigtails—
Blue pigtails? That was a unique trail. He did a double take, hoping to confirm his thoughts, and she glanced back at the crowd, revealing her coral eyes stained with tears. The blue hair he might’ve been able to shrug off as a coincidence, maybe, but with a face like that, there was no mistake her—Sage.
Juno pushed through the crowd over to the game booth where Sage was standing, talking to another guy and wiping her face. The half-Saiyan stayed at a distance for a second, watching what was going on. She backed up from the guy, and Juno could tell that something had just occurred that had upset her—he quirked his eyebrow, watching carefully, staying behind people and making sure that he blended in the crowd while he observed Sage and her friend.
“I-I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it,” Sage apologized for an unheard insult. The black-haired kid watched carefully, observing their interactions, and then carefully began to step out of the crowd. He walked closer to the pair, standing behind the quarter-Saiyan, glancing at her, attempting not to be noticeable. Her friend stayed silent for a moment, biting his lip, as Juno looked her up and down, smiling at her nice black dress. She was pretty—she had been as long as he’d known her.
“Hey,” the black-haired guy talking to Sage called, noticing him, “Is there a problem?” He shrugged off his conversation with Sage briefly after noticing the intrusion, taking a few confident steps past the girl and towards the newcomer. She glanced over her shoulder, tears still hanging in her eyelids. Her coral eyes widened as she caught the face of the eavesdropper—Juno smiled on the inside, keeping a stoic exterior expression.
“J-Juno?” she mustered, turning halfway to face him.
“Wait, you know this guy, too?” her companion said, glancing back at her.
“Hey, Sage,” Juno smiled, a bit shyly. Admittedly, his attraction hadn’t quite faded for the cyan-haired girl. But then, she hadn’t decided to attach herself to arrogant blond couriers.
He was forced to admit, though, that the potential for romance was just not in the cards, as Sage forced a smile, and then nodded to her friend. She was way too shy—she hadn’t even accepted his damsel-in-distress advances in Friend or Foe, which usually worked like a charm. So, he didn’t think that it would be a good idea to pursue said fantasies. He could dream, though, couldn’t he? Ah, the prettiest were always unattainable.
“Ander,” the black-haired man said, crossing his arms and looking Juno up and down. “Your name’s Juno?” he asked, and the fortuneteller turned his smile to the other man.
“Yeah,” he nodded, “I’m Juno.” He stuck his hand out politely for the human to shake, and Ander looked down at the hand, contemplating. It took a moment, but Ander hesitantly offered his hand, and shook Juno’s firmly. It was a semblance of trust—however false—that they’d formed, just then, and to be honest, Juno felt more comfortable knowing people here than he felt sitting on a bench alone. “So,” the black-haired half-Saiyan smiled, “You guys want to play some games?” He chuckled, gesturing to the ball game Ander had previously failed completely at.
Ander cracked a wide grin, attempting as much as he could to portray a friendly persona, at least at this stage. Juno, however, was watching for something else, and didn’t move until it came—a quick, small upward curve of Sage’s lips before she reached up once again to wipe her eyes. The young halfling, however, wasn’t weeping at all—in fact, he was quite contented that he’d found an old friend and another person to hold conversation with, even if Sage wasn’t all that much of a conversationalist. Ander headed over to the booth and grabbed a ball, taking a few minutes to aim, while Juno took the opportune moment to get in a few words with Sage.
“So, how’ve you been?” he asked casually.
“Uh,” Sage stuttered, shy as always, “O-okay, I g-guess.”
“Did you get kidnapped by freaky robots too?” the half-Saiyan asked.
“Y-yes,” Sage revealed simply, and for a moment, Juno’s thoughts left her and went back to the situation at hand. His conversation with Mixie had already pretty much confirmed his suspicions, but now he had firsthand testimony. He shot a quick smile at Sage and walked up to the booth to watch Ander’s throw, content to get in as much fun as possible while they still had the chance, because he knew they didn’t have long.
The game was about to begin.
Juno continued to eat the extra salty popcorn as Oscar flitted away into the back room of the stall; his eyes glanced at the emerald green curtain, awaiting the clown’s return, but for a while, there wasn’t any sign of him.
“Here ya go!” Oscar said, rather eloquently, a few minutes later when he finally burst forth from the curtain. He held in his hand a sheet of paper folded into three parts, and slid it across the table to the fortuneteller as Juno traded him an empty popcorn container, which Oscar quickly filled, and slid back across the counter.
The future-seer thanked the carnie as he turned to walk away, sticking the box of popcorn underneath his shoulder, and opened the brochure. He smiled at its contents—a map of this horrific arena, from one end—the entrance/exit, which had a slightly eerie ‘Forbidden’ stamp upon it, to the very back, where Juno had found himself upon waking up. He resolved to use this map if he needed it, but for the moment, he wanted to explore blindly, so he slipped it in the inside pocket of his coat and resumed munching on his popcorn.
His feet trotted lazily through the dirt that made the carnival’s paths, and his neck twisted this way and that, looking at the many different lights and signs that were plastered above different booths and rides. More people were also walking around the carnival—he was no longer a citizen in a small town, as it were. Though the numbers still weren’t all that high, he was pretty sure that there were definitely more people than when he’d arrived.
Across the way, Juno spotted a game booth that looked promising—a batting cage. If there was one thing about him that was human, it would probably be his love for baseball; though he’d never actually been to a game, he had watched it on TV plenty of times, and when he’d had nothing else to do, had simply practiced his technique with a baseball bat… sometimes on the heads of insolent thugs. Nevertheless, he marched over to the booth and the clown at its head smiled broadly, opening the gate without even asking for compensation. His mind raced again—why didn’t anyone in this carnival accept money?
This was a very strange carnival.
“Alright, kids,” he whispered to himself, picking up the baseball bat as a few people in line leaned over the railing to get a better view, “Watch and learn.”
“Uh, sir…”
Juno turned on his heel, almost swinging the bat into the man’s head. “What?”
“Don’t you want to wear a helmet?” the guy in line asked, pointing to a few helmets sitting on a nearby table, “After all, a stray swing and you could get a really bad head injury.” Juno pretended, for a moment, as if he was considering the man’s suggestion, and then looked back to the disbeliever confidently.
“There won’t be any stray shots,” he assured him.
“Whatever you say, buddy,” the guy sighed.
Mental note: whack that guy in the skull with the baseball bat after showing what a farce this whole thing was. That thought out of the way, he turned back to the shooter, and nodded to the clown operating the thing. He saw the ball before it even shot out—his eyes glossed over, and inside the realm of his Foresight, he watched the path of the ball and then blinked, just as the thing shot out. He lined up his swing and knocked it back, sending the object flying over the batting cage and ‘out of the park,’ for lack of a better analogy. He glanced, through his peripherals, at the onlookers—the safety-obsessed guy’s jaw had dropped a few inches. Juno, however, simply smirked, nodding for the clown to shoot again.
WHACK—another home run. A couple of people emitted exclamatory expressions from behind him, and he turned, nodding his head and then taking a brief bow. He chuckled to himself—he probably looked pretty arrogant, but why the hell should he care? He stood up again, smiling to the crowd and turning back to the cage just in time to see the baseball before it whacked him in the forehead, knocking him off his feet.
He landed on his back, in the dirt, and quickly clutched his forehead, the throbbing becoming unbearable. He rolled onto his stomach and the slowly pushed himself off the ground—he didn’t want to strain himself, and he was afraid that a smack in the head might’ve been enough to make his sickness reappear. He stood up cautiously, rocking back and forth where he stood and catching his balance, his ears deafened to the laughter that now came from the line. He took his embarrassing walk of shame out of the batting cages and slowly slumped onto a nearby bench.
The clown operator of the batting cage walked over with a very sad clown look on his face, handing the half-Saiyan his half-empty box of popcorn. Juno thanked him weakly, and the clown smiled, waddling away.
He popped a couple of kernels of popcorn into his mouth and then scanned the surroundings—now, with a throbbing headache, he felt as if there was little to do but ponder the situation he’d been thrown into. He was at a carnival, possibly in some evil mastermind’s thrall, and now, he had hurt himself. What the hell else could possibly go wrong, here?
“Feeling blue?”
Juno jumped, falling off the bench and recoiling a bit before gazing up at the brown-haired woman who had magically appeared on the seat next to him. “Sorry,” she said, leaning over, “did I scare you? I didn’t mean to. I’m Mixie.”
The fortuneteller hesitated. “…Hello, Mixie.”
“I’m going to be your guide for the duration of Kill Town,” she introduced with an attractive smile, “I’m here talking to you because playing solo isn’t a wise idea in a game like this. You need a well-rounded party to keep yourself on your game.” Her smile broadened, but suddenly, even Juno’s faux-happiness had faded as he stood up and brushed himself off, honestly not really comprehending anything she’d said—playing solo? A ‘well-rounded party’? What the heck was that supposed to even mean? “Your options are limitless, though. One party’s already shaping up quite nicely—they’ve got an offense mage, a healer mage, and a warrior.”
Juno quirked an eyebrow. What was she talking about?
“Hmmm,” she muttered, surveying him, “You’re a rogue, yourself, I’d say, with a couple of special skills to assist with backstabs and the like. ‘Know your enemy.’ Good policy for a class like you. You’d be a good asset to Kaden’s team, statistics wise—”
“Kaden?” Juno thought out loud. He cringed—he didn’t much mind the blonde courier, but their personalities weren’t exactly the best match, and if he was here, then things just got a lot more complex. However, this did answer a question—other warriors were here, and he could be almost certain that they were kidnapped just as he was.
“Yes,” Mixie continued, “Kaden, Sophia, and Belle Hibiki—oh, and looks like someone new just popped in. Juunanagou, I think.”
Juno took a step back, faltering, “…Sophia?”
Mixie smiled. “Have fun!” she said, and suddenly stood from the bench, turning on her heel and disappearing in mid-step. Juno smiled, his spirits lifted. He would admit that his attraction to Sophia had faded—not that he didn’t still think she was hot—but more than that, she was a friend, even if only one that he’d made under pressure. He wouldn’t search out the carnival for her and Kaden, as he knew that they’d meet up eventually. He was happy, though, because now he did have someone he was familiar with in this game. Kaden being here was a blessing in disguise, as well, he knew; he wasn’t familiar with the other name, and though he’d met Piper, she wasn’t in the forefront of his mind.
One question was answered—are there others like me here, or am I a special case? Still, though, more questions lingered. The most prominent one: what the hell is going on? He was content to wait, though—at least for a little while. If what Mixie said was true, there were others here, and the ebony-haired Saiyan was almost certain that they were being collected, once again, for a game of life or death. He just had to figure out what kind of game of life or death, and mold himself to it. He was usually pretty good at games. Friend or Foe had been a first experience—losing so badly, not even getting to the top five—and he wasn’t about to repeat it.
No. If this was a game, he was going to win it.
In the mean time, he thought, he might as well entertain himself with some target practice—nothing too ‘fun’ like the batting cages, but there were definitely some rather large archery bull’s eyes that he could see through the chain link fence of the batting cage. He smirked, and thought of what Mixie had said—time to put his rogue skills into action, he thought, and quickly tossed his popcorn to the side and blasted the lock on the nearby door with a spark of ki.
He smiled, and before long, he’d set up one of the bull’s eyes and had backed up a good twenty feet or so. He lowered himself into a battle-stance; it’d been a while since he’d had to use one, but he still slipped into it like a charm, thrusting one of his palms out and holding the other safely near his chest, for blocking. He spread his legs and bent his front knee, stretching forward.
A small orb of ki began to kindle in his palm. He sighed; he had expected it to take a few seconds for his energy to start flowing, and after a short hiatus, a violet orb appeared cupped inside his fingers. He stared at the target, letting his eyes squint with focus, and then wound up and tossed the miniscule orb at the red-and-white circles. The ball of ki flew quickly toward its mark, not hitting the center but getting close enough that Juno was satisfied. “Not bad,” he said to himself, “But you’ve got more tricks up your sleeve.”
He smiled broadly, this time cupping his hands and letting a larger violet orb materialize between his fingers. “Come on,” he whispered, feeling the sweat begin to form on his brow. He had to get back into shape—his vacation, and the sickness, had sapped a lot of his energy, and now he struggled to do basic moves.
He thrust his arms out in front of him, releasing a Pop of ki from the orb he’d formulated. The continuous beam burst forth from the sphere in his hands, rushing toward the target as if it was a beautiful, razor sharp, violet sphere. It collided with the target head on and in the center, ripping the wooden circle to shreds right before his eyes. The beam dissipated as it collided with the target, and Juno dropped to his knees, breathing heavily. Impromptu training, perhaps, wasn’t the best of ideas. He looked up at the shattered bull’s eye, and grinned mischievously as smoke wafted off the pieces.
“Heh,” he chuckled quietly, “That counts, right?”
Gradually, he stood up again, and satisfied with his target practice, he slipped back through the gate and out into the thick of the carnival, which was steadily becoming more and more crowded. People walked past in lines, this way, and that, some looking slightly familiar, but then he could never be sure, there were blondes, there were red jackets, there were blue pigtails—
Blue pigtails? That was a unique trail. He did a double take, hoping to confirm his thoughts, and she glanced back at the crowd, revealing her coral eyes stained with tears. The blue hair he might’ve been able to shrug off as a coincidence, maybe, but with a face like that, there was no mistake her—Sage.
Juno pushed through the crowd over to the game booth where Sage was standing, talking to another guy and wiping her face. The half-Saiyan stayed at a distance for a second, watching what was going on. She backed up from the guy, and Juno could tell that something had just occurred that had upset her—he quirked his eyebrow, watching carefully, staying behind people and making sure that he blended in the crowd while he observed Sage and her friend.
“I-I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it,” Sage apologized for an unheard insult. The black-haired kid watched carefully, observing their interactions, and then carefully began to step out of the crowd. He walked closer to the pair, standing behind the quarter-Saiyan, glancing at her, attempting not to be noticeable. Her friend stayed silent for a moment, biting his lip, as Juno looked her up and down, smiling at her nice black dress. She was pretty—she had been as long as he’d known her.
“Hey,” the black-haired guy talking to Sage called, noticing him, “Is there a problem?” He shrugged off his conversation with Sage briefly after noticing the intrusion, taking a few confident steps past the girl and towards the newcomer. She glanced over her shoulder, tears still hanging in her eyelids. Her coral eyes widened as she caught the face of the eavesdropper—Juno smiled on the inside, keeping a stoic exterior expression.
“J-Juno?” she mustered, turning halfway to face him.
“Wait, you know this guy, too?” her companion said, glancing back at her.
“Hey, Sage,” Juno smiled, a bit shyly. Admittedly, his attraction hadn’t quite faded for the cyan-haired girl. But then, she hadn’t decided to attach herself to arrogant blond couriers.
He was forced to admit, though, that the potential for romance was just not in the cards, as Sage forced a smile, and then nodded to her friend. She was way too shy—she hadn’t even accepted his damsel-in-distress advances in Friend or Foe, which usually worked like a charm. So, he didn’t think that it would be a good idea to pursue said fantasies. He could dream, though, couldn’t he? Ah, the prettiest were always unattainable.
“Ander,” the black-haired man said, crossing his arms and looking Juno up and down. “Your name’s Juno?” he asked, and the fortuneteller turned his smile to the other man.
“Yeah,” he nodded, “I’m Juno.” He stuck his hand out politely for the human to shake, and Ander looked down at the hand, contemplating. It took a moment, but Ander hesitantly offered his hand, and shook Juno’s firmly. It was a semblance of trust—however false—that they’d formed, just then, and to be honest, Juno felt more comfortable knowing people here than he felt sitting on a bench alone. “So,” the black-haired half-Saiyan smiled, “You guys want to play some games?” He chuckled, gesturing to the ball game Ander had previously failed completely at.
Ander cracked a wide grin, attempting as much as he could to portray a friendly persona, at least at this stage. Juno, however, was watching for something else, and didn’t move until it came—a quick, small upward curve of Sage’s lips before she reached up once again to wipe her eyes. The young halfling, however, wasn’t weeping at all—in fact, he was quite contented that he’d found an old friend and another person to hold conversation with, even if Sage wasn’t all that much of a conversationalist. Ander headed over to the booth and grabbed a ball, taking a few minutes to aim, while Juno took the opportune moment to get in a few words with Sage.
“So, how’ve you been?” he asked casually.
“Uh,” Sage stuttered, shy as always, “O-okay, I g-guess.”
“Did you get kidnapped by freaky robots too?” the half-Saiyan asked.
“Y-yes,” Sage revealed simply, and for a moment, Juno’s thoughts left her and went back to the situation at hand. His conversation with Mixie had already pretty much confirmed his suspicions, but now he had firsthand testimony. He shot a quick smile at Sage and walked up to the booth to watch Ander’s throw, content to get in as much fun as possible while they still had the chance, because he knew they didn’t have long.
The game was about to begin.