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."
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."
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Last edited by Sir Roxas on 27th June 2015, 8:56 pm; edited 1 time in total