Explosive Storms [Alye]

God was crying that day. There were many reasons as to why tears of the inhumane entity would fall upon the Earth. In addition to every single piece of trash in this land were each and every single individual's mistakes. Various things occurred throughout the land that would permanently scar the world that the God above would call his creations. In comparison to a human, God does, too, get injured by the fact that his creations were just as quickly destroyed as they were created. As a result, rain would continually pour down, drenching and soaking all that it could catch off guard. One of the godly tears' target was the Bomberman, catching the man off guard as it intended to. Within an instant would the guildless mage be drenched in hydraulic attacks that provided one of the worst attacks of them all, a cold. Traversing in the horrid weather for some time around Rose Garden was a new sight to behold. Though he had not been in the beautiful city of lights all too many times, he had had his share of the Garden. But today, it just didn't seem like so. If anything, the city seemed to be nothing special, just like any other town in all of Fiore. Such a sullen sight it all was.

Ultimately, Roxas would decide that this unintentional shower of his had gone on long enough. As luck would have it, it just so happened that a bar was nearby, allowing for Roxas to enter, ignoring the fact that his presence did not seem to be wanted. With every step he took, water would force his shoes to retreat and squeak, a puddle forming with every single step he decided to push forward. Arriving at the bar, Roxas would ask for simple hot tea, nothing too expensive unlike the beers that several eyes seemed to be sipping on. But they weren't stuck in the rain. Aside from the bartender, the place seemed to be inhabited by these out of place rogues giving Roxas the eye. Usually the Bomberman would only shrug such discontent off, seeing as how it would only cause problems for himself and the bartender. There was no other doubt, Roxas could easily take on all of the bandits, their numbers of fifty and counting meaning nothing to Roxas. Trash were trash. But these men weren't trash, they were lower than scums of the Earth. Roxas sipped his glass of tea. Alas, he brought the glass away from his lips, allowing himself the liberty to sigh. Such a sullen sight, indeed. "I want a cookie."

The mysterious man did not notice it before, but a woman shrouded in equal mysteriousness had entered the bar, sitting only with a seat in between the two. As if she was a goddess of the weather, her physical body seemed unharmed by the onslaught of hydraulics. Even as she sat down, he gave her no mind. She was a stranger and he was the same. It wasn't within his personality to play nice, to suddenly start a conversation, at least, not without reason. But it was as if the moment he thought of that, the reason came to be. The bartender would grab and hand him a cookie, unbeknownst to Roxas that it was a gift from this stranger. Looking in her direction, he would only assume that it was from her and no other. But as more excuses came, this was simply not enough to gain his favor. The man only thought of the words thank you, too unsure of himself to determine whether or not this was to be said aloud. As a result, silence would be golden in this situation. Keeping up with the hidden yet extravagant persona, the hooded figure would grab the cookie and slowly nom upon it. It was delicious! With a mix of dough that was baked to the right degree, added to it some chips of pure chocolate. That would provide to Roxas, a lover of cookies, such thrill and joy. So much so that it was nearly impossible for him to contain the love in his eyes, tears streaming down his face. Many would call this man insane, crying from cookies alone. But if one was to realize his true love for such sweets, they would most likely understand him so.

The bar itself was a busy one. Ignoring the storming levels of water that had passed, the people within the bar were having a great time, only positivity took place in the atmosphere. However, majority of this positivity came from lecherousness, sex and violence included in the equation. That held no bound when a group of thugs (or so it seemed like) had their fun with the women around them. Traversing and in time huddling around the woman in cute, short hair, their flirtatious motives were not hidden in the process of it all. The only thought Roxas had to it all was whether or not they could be more oblivious. It was clear that they were willing to force a one-night stand, to leave this girl to be crying in being raped by the end of it. A sigh exalted from his mouth, shunning down on such matters. Furthermore, the lady retaliated with her words, stating quite evidently that she wasn't interested. "I'm afraid my sweets aren't for sale." Quite a bold statement from her, which was exactly what Roxas needed from her to hold his gaze. Now things were interesting.

Without a second to waste, the last man of their group to make a statement had his head exploded. It wasn't deadly, not capable of ripping his head off and so on. But it's a complete lie if Roxas had said it didn't hurt. The explosion had knocked him back upon his back on the floor. All eyes would turn in Roxas' direction, seeing an image of him picking his nose. Would they rush at him? It didn't matter. Their hands were off of the female, yet still surrounding her. He needed to get them away from her, as soon as possible being a vivid goal in his head. Feeling the shape of the germs of his nose, he had located and scratched off the stickiest one of them all. Proceeding to carry out his plan, he would launch the miniature projectile, moving at speeds faster than the human eye could follow. This would knock another one back and down on the ground, dealing significantly more damage than the simple explosion had before. "Hello." he'd announce his presence with a smile. Fun.

The bar was up in a crazed fray. Though that seemed evident enough. The very last of them all was simply waiting for Roxas to take down as well, but it seems as if the man did not have to. Turning around, this lady of the storm would use her petite hands and envelope the last thug's neck, raising his feet off the ground. Now gasping for air, even so was a sorry sight in Roxas' eyes. The heartless Bomberman felt genuinely sorry for him, but not enough for him to be saved. Luckily for him, she seemed to not have much intent on killing. For what reason? Maybe it was for the bartender, not wanting to spill blood on his grounds. This girl was not only bold but she was quite reserved as well. Quite a combination.

After such a scene had occurred, she apologized to Roxas for the trouble, as if there was any at all. Before he could speak, she would've left the bar. Things were not to simply come to an end this way. As she exited into the dark night, the Bomberman looked at the bartender, giving him a look that said something along the lines of "You got this taken care of?" On the assumption that he got the same information being told to him, he nodded. With that, Roxas ran after this woman before walking besides her. Now at an up close view, he noticed she was quite the angel. Putting the beauty aside, she seemed to be quite the angelic being, covered in various shades of white, which included her hair. What a special and peculiar hair color. She was quite a petite individual, however radiating energy that she was something she wasn't. Given her small body build, one would assume she had little to no potential to magical power, but that was not what her very aura gave off. Having walking with her in silence long enough made things quite awkward. Roxas turned to start conversation. "Thanks for the cookie back there." he'd say with a smile. Perhaps he'd been smiling a little too much lately.

"Shall we take out the trash then?"

That was definitely an invitation to fight alongside this woman, an invitation that Roxas would not shoot down. Ever since he arrived in Fiore, he had been itching to start begin a fight, though that would provide to be a difficult task if one was trying to keep their identity low. There were peculiar magics in, not only Fiore, but all around the world. But that was it. They held magics. Roxas was someone of a different origin and did not hold something that the gods above have gifted the humans with, but a curse from the devils of hell instead. Thankfully, the curse upon him did not harm him in any way, at least, none that he would know of. Instead, it would feed on the negative emotions of others, providing to use smaller amounts of magical energy per spell.

He kept the lady waiting long enough. Just as she introduced herself as Alye, Roxas was about to return the favor. However, he had no time for that matter. "I'll take the first move." he declared. With that, he would sit down on the ground, staring blankly at the people. Oh, how he simply loved to toy with human beings. Though it looked nothing like he was preparing for anything special, in reality, Roxas had already prepared long ago. The moment they set a leg forward, one of them blew up. This time, Roxas did not hold back with the amount of darkness he had set within the explosives. Only ashes remain.

Mr. Bomberman thought he had an interesting start, seeming to have blow apart the first victim to pieces. But as Alye awakened the competitive side of him, she showed an extravagant view to him herself. Only heard in myths and stories, she actually flew like a bird drifting through the sky, ignoring everything that passes. As she soared over the crowd, they would drift out and about, flying in a chaotic form of the gentle winds that were not seen. That took out the majority of them, giving her the win on the game. But he wouldn't let things end at that. There was yet still the other half of them. It wasn't in Roxas' style to pull some flashy stunt as she did, so he simply snapped his fingers in their direction, wiping them all as their first loss had disappeared. It was a crude manner, but at the same time, it was elegant. No traces remain.

Prancing over to the young lady, it was Roxas' turn to introduce himself. With that being said, the man would take off his hood and let his bunched up hair loose. His eyes were of the color of crimson today, his hair blonde. Who knows when those two attributes would change, but it didn't matter. "Roxas."