Calm Rain, Crazed Clouds on the Horizon

[Sora-No]

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    "Again."

    Chris would ready himself, planting his feet solidly. His hands relaxed and held away from his body. Sweat matted his hair to his face, eyes concentrated. Breathing shallow but focused. In through his nose, shaky exhale from his mouth. A shake occasionally occurred on his right hand, a twitch. An eagerness to move, to do something. To react.

    Facing an older gentleman, his form rigid, hands folded behind his back. A formal jacket buttoned to the top. An analytical glare behind purple eyes. His stance was a pillar, a foundation- unmoving. He would finally move his hands, opening them up after a nod of understanding at the boy.

    Flames would explode from the older man's hands, flurries of flame blotting out the surroundings. The orange pyre changing the temperature of the entire room. Chris would hunch, his right foot sliding out. Blue eyes scanning through the projectiles. Looking for patterns, looking for an opening.

    He would finally move as the projectiles closed the distance, kicking out his leg to the side as the first projectiles landed, flames licking the gravel where Chris once was, rocks flying from the force. He would land on his side, rolling and quickly recovering, his eyes once again panning around at what was ahead of him. His clothes, a tank-top and shorts, while light for normal endeavors, were now caked in sweat, scorched in certain areas here and there.

    Chris would be forced to move once again, hopping backwards as another projectile hit the ground. Twisting his body to avoid another, he would reel back towards the older gentleman's direction, noticing three more projectiles. Approaching fast. He would squat down, kicking out from under him, gaining a surprising amount of air as the projectiles missed him once again.

    The problem then became clear as two more projectiles latched themselves on to the boy's position- he was in the air, he had no way of moving. The boy's concentration quickly lost, like a flash, replaced with panic. His hands, having no movement previously, bringing his arms in a swinging motion close to his body, a fearful gasp leaving his mouth.

    A gust left his arms, an X formation meeting the flames, snuffing them out instantly. Chris would fall and land on his back, not moving. His breathing heavy, his chest rising and falling.

    The gentleman finally did something, walking towards Chris. His gait almost calculated, each movement having the same gap between steps. He would stop next to Chris, his hands now behind his back once again. Purple eyes glaring down at the young boy.

    "What did I say? You think that garbage excuse for magic is going to help you from every spell thrown your way?" Chris would flinch, his arms moving up before running through his soaked hair, "I-I'm sorry, I had no other opti-"

    "Bullshit. This is to train your body. You want to continue learning magic, when you leaned on such an elementary spell to crutch for your comedically foolish movements? What are you going to do with more experienced spells, huh?"

    "I'm sorry, okay?" Chris would say, getting up on a shaky knee, "It's just, w-we've been at this for hours, and I-"

    "Excuses." The gentleman would turn on his heel, walking off, "Go clean yourself up. Your mother will have supper finished soon." He would stop for a moment, looking back at his son, "Don't keep us waiting, understand?"

    "Y-yes sir..."

---

    Chris would wake up from his nap against a tree, a cool rain hitting his head. He'd yawn, getting up slowly. He made it to outside the Sanctuary last night, thankfully. The journey was definitely enjoyable, he'd say. He'd scratch the back of his neck, looking over the section of Avalon. Despite the rain, it was bustling with people, and it was active with chatting. Laughing. He would smile, pulling up his hood and walking in to town.

    Time to get some breakfast. He's got a bit of money from helping out around the previous part of Avalon, so that'll at least give him the ability to see what meals and cuisines the Deep Sea Sanctuary has to offer.

[Sparky]

[Refs]

    "STOP THAT MAN!" Someone screamed as a masked man ran with a bag of gold in hand. Close behind, Ty was booking it after him, staying hot on his heel. With his left eye glowing, and his mouth trailing smoke from the corners, the capped young man looked like a beast being let loose. Panicking at how fast Tyler was gaining on him, the thief did everything he could to try to loose him, throwing trash and bins in the way to try to stumble the young man. 

    Unfortunately for him, Ty's reflexes were way better than he expected. The young man simply vaulted over the things in his path, or batted them away before they could get in his way. Heh. Batted. Not yet though. Soon. But not yet. The only reason why the guy hadn't been clocked out already was down to the fact that Ty couldn't skateboard in the rain. But that didn't mean he wasn't still a quick little shit. 

    Panic growing more intense, the thief turned down an alleyway, looking back in time to see the war mage skid and launch himself after. By now, the thief was screaming more than the people who wanted him caught. The young man buckled down and kicked off the ground as he through himself at the thief. The man threw himself to the pavement.

    A loud metal slam could be heard as Ty rammed his shoulder into a dumpster, denting the entire thing inwards. Turning back, the thief looked in horror as the young man simply yanked himself out of the metal he'd folded around himself. His neck popped audibly as he rolled it side to side against his shoulders, cracking it and staring down at the man. 

    Tyler stepped forward. The man scurried back, his bag of stolen gold jingling against the sidewalk. Slowly, the young man lifted his fists and made a show of cracking his knuckles. Wide-eyed, the thief let out an audible gulp. He was the only one who screamed as Tyler swung down and slammed his fist into the sidewalk hard enough to punch a crater in it, barely missing the thief as he rolled out of the way and back to his feet. 

    "You motherfucker, get back here so I can beat your fucking face in!" Ty screamed after him. At this point, the altercation was drawing eyes, only for the original shopkeeper to come screaming down minutes later about how the masked man was a thief. 

    The capped young man was gaining again as the thief finally swung a right into yet another alley. Only this time finding a dead end. The thief turned to face Ty, as the punk yanked his dented metal bat out from his backpack. Spun it in his hand. Swung in. The slippery bastard ducked to the side just in time to avoid the brunt of the hit, skidding around to Tyler's side as a gust of wind whipped up a stream of water from the ground. Ty's glowing eye darted back to him as he swung in one more time.

    The Thief ducked. 

[Sora-No]

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    Chris made it into town, walking along the sidewalk. He hasn't been to this part of Avalon, so he definitely wants to soak up and see what other stuff he can find around here. He's got enough money for a nice breakfast somewhere here, so time to figure that out. Guess he should head closer to the center of town and just see what's around. Hopefully he doesn't have to go all around Deep Sea Sanctuary to find a good place to e-

    In the distance, he'd hear shouting, his head perking to the side. There was a shriek as well, with the yelling continuing. Without even pausing, the boy's body would turn, kicking in to a full sprint. He'd kick a left, finding himself in a random alley, his sudden realization of not knowing where the hell he is not deterring him as he just took turn after turn attempting to catch up, following the sounds of crashing.

    As he got closer, he'd hear a large metallic crash. After some fumbling around, Chris would turn the corner to see some people standing, seemingly shocked. In a voice much louder than intended, almost a threatening yell (if his voice wasn't hilariously harmless) leaving his lips, "Where'd they go?" There was almost a sense of... eagerness? Hmm. The others would point, Chris sliding around another corner, his walking shoes slipping along the wet ground, catching himself along the wall with his left foot. What the hell happened to that poor trash can? Chris would think, before hearing another crash a short distance away, kicking out with his left foot to once again continue running, hopping over a crack in the pavement.

    Chris would turn, finding himself facing an alley with a dead-end. A cartoonishly devilish-looking man with a sack of money was cornered by another boy, metal baseball bat in hand. Chris would assume this is the guy that mutilated that poor innocent trash can. He'd start running to help out, with the boy swinging and missing as the man scuttled around him, scared being too tame of a word to define his state.

    Chris closed the distance, now directly behind the man and about to grab him, given his absolute tunnel vision on Babe Ruth over here. But he would duck in a panic, and Chris would then realize he had a bat swinging just about head-level at him.

    I just wanted breakfast, man

    Chris would react as quickly as possible, putting his left arm up and close to his body, the bat connecting solidly with both his forearm and upper bicep. An audible, child-like yelp left his mouth as his body leaned and reacted to the impact. Now, usually Chris would react, say something witty, be a HERO.

    All the kid could muster in his mind was every expletive he's heard from his time on the road and beyond, on constant loop.

    The kid hit hard, goodness gracious. The impact left a hard smack permeating through the air, causing the thief to whip his head back around, looking at Chris with the same fear, but with more confusion than anything. Through grit teeth, Chris's eyes would focus on the thief, his body moving to keep him on the ground, a gust of wind moving off of his foot as he moved it forward. The man's footing was quickly lost, slipping on the moving water underneath his shoes as he hit the ground with a wet thud. The kid was in danger of this, as well, but he seemed sturdy. And, given the impact Chris felt vibrate through his very soul, he'd assume the kid wouldn't fall over.

    Once the man fell over, he'd snap his left arm out, hitting the bat off of his very sore arm now, twisting his body as he kicked the man on the ground with his right foot, sliding across the ground before slamming in to the wall, the air leaving his body as he coughed. That's for getting me hit by Mr. Slugger McGee here, Chris would think before looking at the other.

    He had a hat covering most of his face, but he did look quite young, close to his age, almost? He doesn't know, but at the very least he's hopefully not a target to his bat. Again, anyway.

    He would give a nervous grin, his hands going up as he spoke, "Sorry about that! Didn't mean to get caught up in the crossfire there!" The young boy would laugh, the awkwardness of it being quite noticeable, if the word 'quite' was replaced with 'smacking you in the face'. Chris isn't really- how do you put 'absolutely terrible at social interaction with new people' in nice terms? Oh, too late. Whoops. 

[Sparky]

[Refs]

    Down the criminal went, as Slugger McGee's baseball bat impacted against some poor, innocent chucklefucks forearms. The metal *Conk* could be heard echoing from down the road, mixed with a painfully meaty slap. Ty's glowing eye immediately shut off of Nightmare Mode as the punk began to panic. "OH SHIT, FUCK, ARE YOU OKAY MAN!?" 

    Without much time to really react to the shifting situation, the boy felt a battering of cold air and water slap him in the face, strong enough to knock the crook on his ass. As Tyler watched the man slam into a wall, the only thing he could think was; Well that's one problem dealt with. The shopkeeper rounded the corner soon after, with a few local guard in tow, as well as a healthy smattering of onlookers. 

    The capped crusader heard Chris speaking to him, but didn't pick up any of the words as he absentmindedly shepherded the other boy away. A shadowed gaze kept an eye over his shoulder as the thief was thrown in shackles. All's well that end's- OH SHIT THE GUY I BATTERED. Ty snapped back towards Chris as the other boy finished his awkward greeting. Introduction? The punk hadn't exactly been paying attention, so you know what. MOVING ON.

    "Sorry about nearly cracking your arms there my guy. What the hell were you doing in the middle of that shit anyways though? Ain't ya ever heard of danger circles?" What the fuck were danger circles? Well, they were the radius in which a dude with a weapon had the potential to swing. You got a guy with a spear? Big ol' danger circle. Dagger? Teeny tiny danger circle. This terminology also considered that everyone had heard of this and that this wasn't something Bargain Brand Babe Ruthe with Anger issues just came up with on the fly. 

    "Thanks for the assist though. Slippery bastard wouldn't hold still long enough for me to clobber." The young punk stopped in his tracks and slipped his bat back into his pack. The metal had been dented pretty badly throughout its, no doubt, lengthy service. It was a miracle it hadn't been completely bent in by now. Must have been enchanted or something.

    Or maybe Ty just bought a new bat whenever he needed one. 

    Sometimes the answer to a question was the simplest one. 

    Weapon comfortably stowed, the punk turned his shadowed gaze onto Chris. Even without the ability to see his eyes, it was obvious that Ty was looking the guy up and down. Chris was sturdy in his own right. Maybe not emotionally, by the gods that kid was a fucking wreck and a half. But, he was tough enough to take a solid hit, so color Tyler impressed. 

    Straightening up, the boy shot his hand out towards Chris, holding it low, palm sideways. "Tyler Dumont. Friend's call me Ty." Oh, yeah, so he was offering to shake hands. Hopefully the anthropomorphic anxiety attack didn't assume he was going to get his shit clobbered again. That'd be bad.

[Sora-No]

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    Chris would walk away from the thief, shaking his arm, a small wince. The damage wasn't anything severe, but it was sure going to be sore for a good amount of time. No hard feelings, though. Just... sharp pains and awkwardness on the table at the current moment. He'd give a bit of a laugh, scratching the back of his neck.

    At least his head's still attached.

    Chris would respond to the boy, but would be stopped by the addition of "danger circles". What? Didn't he SEE me? Chris would think, but would shake that thought, not wanting to argue with a stranger- he can BARELY talk to strangers in the first place let him not torture his social battery more. The boy would speak, his voice an almost comedic amount of warmth and harmless to it, "Yeah, I'm all good, though, so uh- all's well that ends well, right?" His hand would once again scratch the back of his neck.

    Chris would give the other boy a nod, his hands going into the pockets of his pants, not wanting to keep picking at his neck like an idiot. The hand would leave said pocket to shake Ty's, a smile gracing Chris's warm features, "I'm uh- I'm Chris, nice to meet ya."

    Now, what is a socially acceptable amount of time to leave after conversing with a dude who hit you with a bat so you can get breakfast? He's just gonna attempt to chit chat until something happens and he can decide whether or not he'll be going for food now or after the guy gives salutations and what not.

    "So... you from around here?" Wonderful. Doctoral theses will be written on the absolute AMAZING social sentence structure Chris compacted into such a revolutionary question that definitely isn't the most basic bargain brand question in the entire world. Chris is kicking himself inside right now.

[Sparky]

[Refs]

    Gods, and Ty thought Luke could be awkward at times. The guy had to do a bit of a mental double take when the first question Chris asked was the weirdest, most half-assed cookie cutter shit he could think of. "Eh. No. I'm frim Pillar Steppes, I was just visiting my brother over here while he was on patrol." Alright, maybe it wasn't a terrible question because, hey, turns out Tyler was not, in fact, from this area. 

    But also really? 

    That was the best Chris could think of?

    "You're a bit of an antsy one, aren't you?" Tyler mused, not even hesitating to just call the guy out from the get. Behind the shadowed gaze of his hat, whatever eyes were there were studying Chris curiously. "Sure I didn't rattle up something in there?" The young punk pursed his lips ever so slightly. Then shrugged. "Fuck it, whatever man, I'm going to go get some breaky from a local place, you wanna join me? Seems like the popular way to start conversations these days. 'Sides, I can treat it like an apology breakfast."

    Unlike Christovia, the Human Panic Button, Tyler was nice and mellow. Outside of beating the shit out of people of course. It was both a weird one-eighty and also somehow the most fitting personality for the guy possible. Speak softly, but carry a big stick and all. Or in modern terms; Do no harm, take no shit. Only in this case, the stick was a metal baseball bat, and this guy was fully ready to do harm. Contextually speaking. 

    Tyler didn't wait for an answer from Chris. The guy was getting breakfast with or without him. He wasn't about to keep standing in the fucking rain, being soaked to the bone when instead he could be enjoying a nice cup of coffee, perfect sunny side up eggs, and fluffy pancakes, slathered in butter and syrup, with a mountain of crispy fucking bacon to shove into his maw piled so high that he'd have a heart attack by his twenty-fourth birthday after only digging through half of it. 

    Dude's here for a good time, not a long time. Don't judge.

    By now, the crook was securely in chains and being ferried into a cart to be taken away. All the stolen gold had been given back to the store owner, and specialized mages were already on the scene to repair the sidewalk. That dumpster was getting replaced, though. There was no way in hell anyone was going to be able to fix that up anytime soon. 

    As far as Ty went, his attire was... as expected. Graphic t-shirt, blue jeans, nothing special. Should the boy have brought a jacket into Deep Sea Sanctuary? Probably, but the weather was nice when he left and as someone once Said; Deep Sea Sanctuary was the type of place where the second you stopped preparing for rain, you were getting a drenched. So go fucking figure they were exactly right. 

[Sora-No]

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    Chris would nod understandably. The Pillar Steppes look great. Last time here was there, he got to meet the god of death. Which, while he's surprised he didn't need a refresh on pants, it was definitely a fun chit chat. Which is also, in a way, why he's here right now. For a really dumb and selfish reason, yeah, but honestly why not, right? He's not an adult yet, he can do what he wants for now.

    "Uh, yeah, a bit-" Chris would laugh. Hoo, getting called out real quick, huh, kiddo? Ty's obviously not wrong, it's just the kid isn't used to getting called out so quickly. Ouch. He would give a chuckle at Ty's remark, shaking his head, "No, I uh, I don't think my brain's leaking out of my ears just yet."

    At the offer, he'd tilt his head, before a warm smile popped up on his face, "Sure, I'd l-love to! Thanks!" He'd follow along, his hands in his pockets and just kind of following along, their footsteps rippling on the ground.

    "So, uh-" Chris would clear his throat- the bat's not gonna make his brain leak out, these goddamn stutters are -"So, odd question- how many bats have you gone through? Given how hard you hit and all?" Chris would assume that he'd just get a new one, given getting a magic bat instead of any other weapon seems a bit uh- dumb? That's probably the best way he could say it, yes.

[Sparky]

[Refs]

    Bangarang, if the guy had brain damage it wasn't Ty's fault. That was always a big plus. Although he didn't actually expect Chris to come along, might as well put in the effort for an apology and grab a bite while he could. It was his day off after all, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted to. Except skateboard. He had to wait until he got out of Gloomsville to do that, otherwise he was gonna hydroplane and eat shit in the side of a brick wall or something. 

    "Odd question? Nah, it's actually more odd that no one else has asked that question." Ty chuckled. A low, calm sound. "I lost count past a dozen and a half. I'm probably somewhere around twenty-ish? Maybe? I've thought of getting an enchanted one so that I won't have to keep replacing it but shit's pricey. If I'm gonna go for it, might as well get all the bells and whistles, y'know? Like a fuckin hidden blade in the handle or summin' cool like that."

    It was a good think Ty didn't have any issues talking like Ty did. Someone here had to carry the conversation or it was going to be a really awkward fucking breakfast. Actually scratch that, shit was already beyond awkward. It was like Chris radiated that shit and made everything else awkward just by existing. Then again, even with Tyler's chill vibes, there was still the overhanging weight of all those broken bats dropping a pretty hefty insinuation. 

    Ty has one-hundred-percent killed people before. 

    With how close Chris came to being one of those, it was not an unreal assumption that Nerves McGee was probably still dealing with that idea. Or maybe he's jumping to conclusions and Christovia is really just that panicky by nature. Also a reasonable assumption. Problem was, one was easier to deal with than the other. The young punk could ease a guy's mind a bit after an encounter like that, but if he was just that all the time...

    Shit might be a bit difficult to deal with. 

    Time would tell. Right now, the young man needed a fucking cup of coffee. He didn't look back at Chris as he pushed open the door to the diner, but he did hold it open for the guy. Unlike Chris, he just had a natural air of not giving a shit. It was the polar opposite of the jittery kid. Out of the rain and in a nice, cozy restaurant, filled with the smell of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee put a smile on Tyler's face. 

    "So you local?" He asked, not looking back at Chris as he found a booth to slip into. While not soaked to the bone, the boy's clothes were still damp enough to be a mild nuisance. But, it wasn't the end of the world. He'd either dry off, or by the time he got back out into the rain it wouldn't even matter anymore. At that point Ty was just going to, you know, head home and change. Not be in the fucking rain. 

[Sora-No]

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    Chris would chuckle as Ty rambled. It was almost as if, the more he talked about the idea of a solution to the bats being lost in to the void of combat, the more ideas he came up with on the fly to fix said issue. Chris could see his brain work, coming up with ideas and stuff, figuring out costs and other issues that'd come with enchanting it.

    "I mean, enchanting a knife in to it would be kind of useless, given you just kinda-" he'd do a swinging motion, "swing with the wrath of a god. Maybe an enchantment that'd absorb impacts into it? Make your swings harder?" Oh, now Chris was thinking about it, he's getting in on this party himself. "Or, maybe you could learn enchantment spells? Harden it yourself when going in to combat to not break easily, saving you a ton of f-f-" Chris would pause, clicking his tongue before starting again, "saving you a ton of funds in the process."

    Chris had noticed how hard the kid swung, most definitely. At this point, trying to help people out, who hasn't? Eventually, there's going to be a situation where people are at risk if you don't. Sure, avoid it as much as possible, but it's going to happen. Chris, for now, is just going to assume he's done it to help others. Be it friends, innocent people, it doesn't really matter to Chris. He hasn't done anything to Chris to make him concerned. The rattling of his body was only an accident. The thought didn't even cross his mind.

    At Ty's question, Chris would go quiet for a moment. Hmm. "I-I'm from far out on the outskirts. Other than a couple of weeks ago, I've never s-set foot in Avalon before, so it's definitely a cool thing to see." He'd sit on the other side of the booth, taking off the hood of his jacket. He'd have to dry himself off when he gets back to a nice place to lie down for the night. Wherever that is.

    Chris's head was... well, to put it nicely, it was a mop. His hair was half-soaked, a dark brown matting to the side of his face. He'd pull his bangs out of his hair, thankfully wet enough to stay up there, taking a temporary mop on the top of his head rather than his face. Which Chris would prefer to eating his hair.

[Sparky]

[Refs]

    "Fair, a hardening spell or some shit like that could be useful. But also like, think about it. Some sorta samurai like standoff and I just- 'shwing' whip out a sword from the bat like it was a sheath or some shit. Go all chop-shop on a motherfucker's ass instead of tryna crack em like an egg. Speaking of eggs..." Perfectly timed, the waitress made her way to the duo's table, fully ready to take their order. "Mornin'. Could I get a coffee, three milk, two sugar aaand-" Ty flipped the menu open real quick then turned back to the waitress. "-double stack buttermilk pancakes please, side a bacon and eggs sunny-side-up? Extra bacon if possible." 

    Once the waitress got both of the boys' orders, she would give them both a polite smile and went off to relay it to the cook. It was going to be a hot minute before everything was done, but it gave the guys more of a chance to talk shop about the semantics between slicing and smashing. Ty watched the woman leave before turning back to Chris once she was solidly out of earshot. Mercenaries and warriors and all that jazz might be a common profession, but that didn't make talking about it around normal people a good idea. 

    "Anyways, as I was saying. Sometimes blunt force isn't enough. Sure, I can bonk a motherfucker into next week nine- eh let's go eight times out of ten, but what about those times when I can't? I mean, a guy's not gonna block a fucking sword with his bare forearms. And if he does then I'm pretty sure I have a lot more to worry about than what sort of weapon I brought." Tyler leaned back in the booth and drew a circle in the air with his hand. "Like my brother always says; 'You gotta bring the right tool for the job.'" For added effect, the young man made sure to lower his voice as much as he could. It certainly wasn't matching Cal, but it got the point across. 

    When the drinks came, Ty thanked the waitress with a polite smile. The guy had a smooth, casual charm about him. Like the punk's whole existence was summed up by the word "Vibe." Unbothered by the world and just going with the flow. No, not going with the flow, he wasn't that passive. More that the young skater excelled at adapting to everything around him. He had enough of a read on everything, and it let him figure out when to play his hand and when to hold. Knew when to put in the effort, and when he could just kick back and enjoy the moment. 

    It was a pretty good life skill. 

    "Welcome to Avalon by the way. Place is pretty boring compared to where I was born, but way cleaner. People are, generally, pretty alright. Lotta good shops, interesting sights. Gods sometimes walk around among us mortal peasants, which is nice of them or something." Even without seeing them, the tone of his voice suggested Ty rolled his eyes at the mention of the pantheon. "Good for business though, got my own shop up in pillar steppes. Music store, should swing by sometime. Might even offer you a summer job if I like you." 

    Although he might not be able to handle the manic energy of Louise and a serial stutter machine like Chris. It was... polite though. Tyler shrugged his shoulders and blew an airy raspberry. "Dunno what more to really say. It's the fuckin' capital, homeboy. lotta different shit to do and see here." 

[Sora-No]

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    "I mean, with a samurai sword or-or what not, a bat would actually be better." He'd pause as the waitress showed up. Now, what does he get? He's obviously not going to grab his favorite, he always hears jokes about it and it's gotten quite old hearing them. "I'll t-t-take one orange juice, please. And uhhhhhh-"

    Shit. He didn't even look at the menu. And this nice lady was sitting here waiting. Okay, it's all good. Just go with the default, every breakfast place has the normal everyday things, right? Oh he sure hoped so, otherwise this is going to get even more awkward than his brain is fabricating this to be. "I'll take two cho-ocalate chip pancakes." He'd give a curt 'thank you' to her as she left, waiting for her to be out of earshot before continuing.

    "Think about it, a blade like that is refined to its edge, while yours is blunt and able to bend the edge down." He'd take a second to think before continuing. The only issue he could see potentially was if he needed to remove a limb, if he's being honest. And if a monster or beast has tough skin or armor, that's where the real challenge kicks in.

    "S-s-s-s-s-" Chris would give an audible huff, almost as if he was annoyed at his speaking ability, before making yet another attempt at forming a sentence like a normal goddamn human being, "So, in the case of a duel with a blade, enhancing the strength of the bat or making it ab-ab-absorb impacts means you can beat out a sword by witling the edge down. Only issue you might run into would be uh..."

    "Limbs and stuff."

    He'd hear what Ty continued to say, thinking on it for a moment. He kind of hated the way people hyped up and put gods and champions and whatever else on such high pedestals. It made him uncomfortable. Sure, they have power on a scope that many haven't even dreamt of dreaming before, but they seem, at least to him, to just be people. That's why here's here, it's what he wants to figure out. He doesn't want to hear people's praises about the gods, he wants to meet them and make that distinction for himself.

    "Tha-Thanks for the offer, I'll have to think it over. I've got a list of places and th-th-" another cleared throat, "things I've got planned first around the c-capitol, but I don't really have a timespan so I-I'll just be enjoying what I seem to walk in to." Even if today was a bat to the side, Chris would joke in his head, though I get breakfast out of it, which is definitely nice of the guy.

    The waitress would arrive after a small bit with their drinks first, Chris giving yet another awkward 'thank you', taking a sip from his orange juice through a straw. "So, uh, Ty-" hopefully he's not rude for going for the 'friends call me' title, he didn't want to hit him with the formal gag and make him think he was closing the door on Ty. That'd be extremely rude. "-who taught you to fight? It's obviously someone who's a heavy hitter, too, I'd assume. D-d-definitely not a swordsman, I mean."

[Sparky]

[Refs]

    "Yeah, see, that's the issue. I can crack bones and shit just fine, but what if I come across a motherfucker who I wouldn't be able to. I 'unno, maybe it's an edge-case scenario thinkin' of 'hey, when am I going to need a sword to hack off limbs and shit?'" Ty hummed as he tested his coffee to see how hot it was. Not too terrible, but not cool enough that he could chug it yet. Maybe a few tentative sips here and there if he was careful about it. "I should probably look around and see what places can enchant weapons. It would be nice not having to replace a bat every five months or so." 

    And he definitely didn't need one breaking in a fight. A reinforcement spell might be the top priority there, but Ty was going to have to shop around a bit before he could find one that properly fit. Chris's suggestions were definitely up there. The punk took a small sip of his coffee, working it over in his mind. He didn't need anything fancy, he wasn't looking to light his bat on fire (though that would be supremely cool if done right).

    After a pause, the young man simply shrugged. It was a problem for another day.

    "Anyways, through your wandering, if you ever swing by Pillar Steppes look for a place called Gorilla Groove. We got good deals on instruments and albums alike." Even if the guy wasn't going to try to put in an application, the dark eyed punk could at least snag a new customer out of it. Or a homie if Chris was chill enough. Luke would definitely heckle the ever-loving shit out of him though. Maybe not in a mean spirited way, but with Luke it was always hard to tell. 

    Chris's next question once more made Tyler pause. He never expected his brute force style to look anything near professional, at least not in a manner that'd get people asking about him. A smirk formed over his lips. Man, I should really start patting myself on the back more if I'm starting to look that impressive. The young punk couldn't help himself as he let out a snicker, leaning back in the booth comfortably. 

    "My mentor was me, myself, and I. Back in The City a group of us just decided to get together one day and taught ourselves how to play baseball. I mean, obviously, I was the best and an undefeated champion of the lot. But as time went on and I got into more and more fights, I just found myself using a lot of those same swings. Stances I'd use when going for heavy hits, I'd just copy on the fly and it just kept working like that. Now, yeah, sure, my style's kinda shifted up a bit now, it's not just baseball swings. I mean, I've seen some samurai movies and shit so that stuff was always pretty cool to me." Ty blew on his coffee and took a much deeper sip of it. Still hot, but not scalding. "But mostly I just kinda go ape shit and let my wonderful charm-" smash cut back to the man running in terror "-do the work for me."

    On that lovely note, their food arrived.

[Sora-No]

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    Chris would nod, mulling the idea over. In all honesty, he wasn't too experienced when it came to weaponry. Usually Chris just fought with his hands and feet, maybe a polearm if he gets back in to practice. And while he could give a practical basing of what would be needed, at the end of the day he knows basically nothing about wielding anything that's not a basic stick.

    "Five months f-feels a bit generous." Chris would sip his drink, chuckling slightly. With how hard Ty hit with it, it just turns into a game of 'how many days since last swung' that really deals with a durability time-basis. The blue-eyed boy would nod at Ty's offer. The place seemed nice, at the very least. Maybe they'll have that heavy stuff Chris always was fond of. Maybe get something to play tunes on the go there. So long as he doesn't remove his eardrums by doing so.

    Ah, Chris would think, so he's just going off reactions. It is rather surprising that the guy could go off with just physical reaction time. Usually your brain delays before making a decision, meaning your reaction speed is determined by how fast your brain can pick up you're in danger. Or, alternatively, Ty just turns his brain off and lets his body do its thing. Which, given the wallop Chris ate, seems like the most likely option.

    Chris would take another long sip from his orange juice, giving a small laugh at Ty's remark. Something charming, it seems... Especially if that perp needed new pants after dealing with Ty. The food would arrive as Chris was about to ask something, an awkward stammer leaving his mouth as the young boy took the plate, yet another charming 'thank you' sent the waitress' way.

    When she left, he would pour some syrup on top of the pancakes, talking as he did so. Wow, a kid barely able to utter three consecutive sentences is really trying to chat it up, "So, if you-yo- if you are over by the S-Steppes, what brings you here? Business or just sight-s-sight-seeing?"

[Sparky]

[Refs]

    Digging into his meal, Ty idly listened to the other kid with a lazy hum. Five months might have been a bit of a generous assessment, but steel was harder than it looked. Surprisingly hard to break. Bending on the other hand? Yeah, he could see why Chris would think five was way longer than it should have been. 

    "Visiting my brother while he's working." He mumbled through a mouthful of food. Swallowing, Ty gave a shrug. "He works for Black Monolith Security, so he's part of the city guard to an extent. Patrolling around each of the city sections or training other guard divisions. Honestly, he's a badass, way more badass than I am. So I wanted to swing by, pay a visit, see what was up and what not. While I was heading back home I got distracted by captain chuckle fuck and now I'm here." 

    The food was good. Pancakes fluffy, bacon crispy, eggs cooked to perfection, the chocolate nice and melty. Place knew how to make a damn good breakfast. Ty wasted no time plowing through his meal, content with stuffing his face until something else was said in his general direction. After a moment, a small buzzing noise caught his attention. With a pause, Ty whipped out his ResLink and swiped through his recent texts. Seems as though Luke was freaking out about something with Luna. So, more of the same from him. 

    Not really anything too pressing for the moment. Ty clicked the ResLink off and pocketed it again. The guy will just message Luke back when he was free. Which, given the growing silence weighing on the breakfast, was probably going to be sooner than later. It wasn't that the young batter minded the silence, but Panic E. McGee might get way too antsy for the guy's taste if it kept dragging on like this. 

[Sora-No]

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    Oh, Ty has a brother! That's definitely neat. Chris has a lot of siblings. And, being one of the youngest, most of them were basically secondary parents. Hard to talk to them as siblings when they're twice your age. With Ty and his brother getting along well, maybe they're closer to the same age? Or that whole 'secondary parent' was just a case with Chris and he's abnormal. What a surprise.

    Chris would go to silently eating his pancakes. He didn't know what to... say? Like, he could add a question or some conversation, but it would feel forced. Hell, the question he just asked was just like that. He wasn't good enough at socializing to really give a good question or topic. Most everything brought up was already cut off and finished, and indulging on it past that point would be a bit weird given the fact that the topics were already passed to the next one.

    He'd take the last bite of his pancakes, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Uhm, th-thanks for the meal, Ty. It means a lot." He'd get up, wiping his hands on his legs. Better than the habit he used to have, Chris would chuckle at himself, his hands going back in to his pockets. He would wait for the check to come, be courteous and all, but honestly the rain had cleared up and he wanted to dry off a bit and go out and get what he wanted to do today done, if possible. Save looking for a place to crash.

    "I'm going to g-go, get my stuff I needed done to-today."


    "Have a good one!"