Meh, I'm gonna do more slice-of-life as I can get it in SK. Screw all the stories, as usual, and off we go!

~~~

Apps [One character per account, and your FAVORITE character to use in an RP or fanfict. If you had multiple variants of a character, I'll choose the version I like best].

Name :

Race :

Gender :

Age :

Personality :

Appearance :

Tends to wear [usual outfit(s), what kind of armor and weaponry, and any objects like glasses, hearing aids, etc.] :

Bio :

~~~

Alright, a prologue to give you guys a rough idea of the style I'll be writing in.

~~~

Prologue :

"Hm, what would you make of it?"

"This? Possibly a crepe, but it reminds me of a croissant, oddly enough."

"An eclair, maybe?"

"More like a cross of all three..."

A two pairs of eyes were staring at a queer pastry sitting on the table. True to their speculation, the oddity looked like a cross between an eclair, a crepe, and a croissant all put together. The signature crescent shape of the croissant gave an impression, but the smaller end had a bit of chocolate cream trailing out, and the top was drizzled with chocolate frosting. It looked quite like an eclair, albeit a very...distinct eclair. But what was really confusing was the texture of the bread, which was in the likeness of a pancake, but only an eighth of the width.

One pair of eyes, a distinct amber-brown color, had squinted intensely at the thing in curiosity. A sigh came, and only one pair of milky jade eyes was left to behold the queer thing, which had sat upon a clean, white plate. Eventually, the other pair of eyes, too, left, and the pastry was left alone to display itself to no one.

---

Outside, the two girls were walking through the cobbled streets of downtown Moorcroft, huddling next to each other to provide warmth in the supernaturally cold air. Their boots clapped against the solid stone, creating eerie echoes that came from every which way.
Yet, despite this spooky presence, it didn't faze them in the slightest.

The Moorcroft estate, as well as its neighboring provinces, were all free to roam. The Devilites were in the middle of holiday work season, and so they couldn't come out to hassle the girls. The glorgos had recently been cleaned out, and the punishment was deemed too inefficient for the fiend society.
Rather, the lazy workers would be sent to the Lockdown arenas, a much more entertaining fate. Of course, the occasional Trojan stared intently at the girls, but Moorcroft was otherwise empty. Most of the employees, including Montague, had taken the time off, trusting their work to a temporary 12-day shift of Knights. They had all gone to rest at their Keeps, and so the fiend world, for once, was relatively peaceful.

The two girls had recently left a bakery, owned by none other than a former Champion of the Order. The young man there had been befuddled by his own odd creations, and the girls, newcomers to the store, were asked to try it out. Unfortunately, they left behind that one pastry, and didn't bother to touch it; they were full from the hundreds of samples to try.

As they were making their way towards the elevator, the green-eyed girl stopped, and opened up her HUD. A small message popped up, the subject
saying [Re : The Prom]. She tapped it, and smiled at the message. The only two words reflecting her eyes was : "I'll go."

She closed her HUD, and then whispered into the other girl's ear. Snickers and giggles arose, and the girls left Moorcroft in good spirits.

---

Vin, the bakery owner, sighed as he set his eyes upon the half-delectable, half-mortifying invention he had made with his own hands. It was, like the girls said, a cross between three pastries, but it was unique in itself. He pulled out a fork from the drawer behind the cash register, and cut a piece for himself. After mouthing the words of a certain prayer, he took a bite, and immediately regretted it.
Chocolate practically exploded in his mouth, covering his tongue in a flurry of distate. Then the too-sweet whipped cream made him cringe, and only the bland, salty crepe-bread could take him out of the frying pan, and into the fire. He spat the disgusting the concoction out, and trashed the pastry.
He was a better sous chef than baker, after all.

~~~

Nai was tired.

He had finally finished approximately three-hundred days' worth of physical conditioning within the week, causing his muscles to twitch, cramp, and ache in ways humans should never twitch, cramp, or ache. It would explain why his grandma was carting him around Haven on a wheelchair, and it caused more than a few prolonged stares from the passer-by's.

He seemed frail, and although both O Ba-chan [Grandma in Japanese] and Nai knew that wasn't the case of his temporary ailment, some of the more curious adolescents asked anyways, to which he replied, "I had a lot of exercise..."

---

"Ba-chan..." the young man asked, leaning back and trying to make himself comfortable.

"Eh?"

"Is there anything to eat?"

"Nothing in the ice-box."

"Ugh, and I thought there would ice cre-"

"Da-me, that isn't allowed anymore. You get cavities from that."

"Ba-chan, I get cavities from everything I want to eat."

"All you want to eat are sweets. Not good for you."

The young man grumbled, and looked up at Grandma again.

"Please, Ba-chan?"

And she had to give in. It's simply the adorable girly quality in his face that kills most men and young boys, as well as every senior there is on Cradle. Those dual-wielded knives of innocence could pretty much knock down all except Vanaduke, who could easily be defeated with a tilt of the head. The old lady grumbled some more, and carted off towards an elevator.

"Ba-chan, aren't we going to eat at the Bazaar?"

She said nothing.

---

Back in the Moorcroft Province, Vin was already dozing off at the cash register, taking in the several dubious scents from the kitchen behind him. He was baking a blueberry pie and peach cobbler at the ovens, while his soup, a nice French-onion broth, was simmering on the stove. So, there wasn't much to do but wait for an hour or so, save for staring at the occasional Kat, or dozing off; he chose the latter.

Suddenly, the familiar twinkle of a Ghost Bell woke him, and the door opened to reveal the old lady and...a young girl? Upon another glance at the youngster's body, he had to stifle his laughs at his own realization; it was a young man he was looking at.

When Vin was around a younger age, even until the fourties, he retained a look that to most, appeared feminine. He, for reasons unknown, never grew any facial hair for the whole of his life, and his long missions away from Haven had resulted in semi-long hair, which was styled into a neat ponytail. Of course, that was twenty some years ago, and he had lost that feature since then. However, he only appeared a day over eighteen, and his facial hair had yet to grow out. It figures, being one of the first of his odd generation, being born on the tumultous year of [?]999. Everyone born in that year had suddenly possessed the trait of extreme longevity, and it raised an uproar for many.

To find a kid in a similar condition was more than amusing; it was hilarious. The man had pondered a bit, but the old lady's throat being cleared got him back into focus.

"Ah, if it isn't Old Lady Ba-chan!" Vin greeted, putting on a welcoming facade.

The old lady grunted, and pointed to the young man.

"What does he want? I don't know; I haven't seen him before."

Nai spoke up. "U-um...I'd like to get..."

The young man looked at the racks of pastries, and found himself thoroughly confused by the selection. 75% of the names he didn't know how to pronounce, and the sweet pastries were down to an eclair, and a small blueberry cheesecake.

"...a-an e-eclair?"

Vin nodded and got it out for the young boy.

"You remind me of myself..." Vin commented.

"E-excuse me?"

"Heh, I know you're a guy, but it's getting harder every year to remember what I looked like. Same feminine face, beautiful skin, and so forth. Practically every kid born in my era had that look too. Wonder what happened to those guys...?"

A long silence followed.

"Erm..." Vin mumbled, "is there anything else? Wanna try out your pastry, or...?"

Nai was already digging in.

And.

It.

Was.

Heaven.

~~~

What the heck was Vin doing on the floor of his bedroom again? Why was he even sleeping there?!

Vin, the sixty-some year old man, had pondered this to himself as he curled up on the floor mat, but he didn't bother answering the question; he already knew who was in his bed.

A cascade of sterling silver hair danced down the ripples of linen, ending abruptly in a cut-off. As Vin turned over to face the bed, he could only see the back of her head and her snow-pale neck. The light breaths coming from the guest was all that was needed to cradle Vin into sleep, and he began to drift off into his peaceful world...

Until a loud knock abruptly woke the two.

"I'll get it; you can go on sleeping..."

Vin went downstairs, and lit a sizably large candle with a simple snap. He then opened a door, to find...

---

Gwen was restless in Vin's bed. She was curious as to find out who exactly was the intruder, but she had to take Vin's advice and sleep. Of course, it was too late for that, and so she found her svelte body out of bed, clad in her usual grey nightgown, and down the flight of stairs.

Vin was talking with some grizzled, old veteran, both of them sipping on black coffee, to which Gwen observed with great plasure.

"...and you want my combat services for...catching him," Vin clarified.

The man nodded.

"You do realize that he may be dead by now, with his age and all...."

The man nodded again, until his pair of amber-crimson eyes stared at something past Vin. He, too, turned around, and they both found Gwen making herself a cup of tea to drink. She was patiently stirring the concoction with a charming silver teapsoon. She warmly waved, and resumed her business.

"Who's that hot chi-"

"Gwen. She's an old friend of mine. Lets herself into my place all the time, even if I change the locks and put up the ironwood shutters."

The guest nodded thoughtfully, and finished his coffee.

"How many crowns do I need to pay?" the man asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin on the table.

"Three hundred CE, or 21k."

"I'll come tomorrow."

"Alright..."

---

Gwen, as obnoxious as usual, had already made herself a batch of croissants, which would be far too cold by opening time. Vin muttered a curse word, and slid down to a seat next to her.

"So...'hot chick', didn't I tell you to go to sleep?

Gwen snickered, but stopped as a serious glare was aimed, silencing the sneers.

~~~

Vin had left some time in the middle of the dawn, and had closed all the ironwood shutters. He had locked the door on the way out, leaving a note and a key for Gwen to use.

She was just about to clean Vin's bed when a familiar rhythm of knocking clicked on the wooden door. She sighed in annoyance, and continued to fold the linen sheets. Sure enough, a strange crackling noise scratched at her ears as something, or someone, entered the premises. Someone Gwen would rather not have in Vin's two-floor building.

Xindao, her worrywart, overprotective, clingy brother.

He was the only person in the world capable of irritating her, and today would be no exception.

Gwen finshed folding, and glided down the stairs, only to find her brother sitting at the bottom of the steps, on one of Vin's chairs.

"Hello, brother..." she muttered as she bumped by him.

"Is something bothering you?" he asked, his voice already tainted by that pleading tone of his...

"Someone other than you? No, does it look like I'm being bothered?"

"Hey, I just don't tru-"

"You checked him again and again. This is the sixth time yo-

Oh...VOG CURSE IT. Did you have to melt the lock?"

"I haven't the time to practice my abilities, so I'd thought I'd ju-"

"XIN! At least RESPECT the people who live on Cradle. Even if we are practically the queen and king of this pla-"

"Gwen, I don't give respect to murderous boyfriends like him."

"THAT WAS FORTY YEARS AGO. He...he changed ever since he arrived here."

"And how do you know?"

"How did you NOT know?! He practically jumped into the Core. How many years have you known him? Twenty? Fifteen?"

Xin grumbled, and shoved the chair back into its former place. There were deep gashes in the wooden planks. Gwen sighed again in frustration, and walked out of the building. Xindao followed her, phasing through the windows with no abnomralities, and floated outside while waiting. Gwen, meanwhile, took a deep breath, and inhaled. As she exhaled, she raised her right hand, lifting two clumps of metal without so much as touching them. With a twisting kind of gesture, the shards of steel formed back into a lock shape, and cooled down to its normal state.

"Don't you ever learn how to clean yourself up?"

Xindao shook his head, and sunk into the floor. He was probably going deeper into the Core, attending more Devilite's democratic congresses with the Knights. Not that he trusted either of them...

~~~

The next pre-dawn, Vin returned to the bakery, nothing unusual about his appearance. He only had a bulging sack of cash hanging on his back, to which he went upstairs and plopped into his footlocker. Inside, there were a multitude of pure gold crowns, payment from his last endeavors.

With a sigh, he opened up his HUD, which glowed crimson red in his eyes. He casually dismissed the [ACCESS DENIED : UNAUTHORIZED USER] sign, and
unequipped his equipment, most notably a Voltaic Tempest.

The baker then fell onto the soft bed, and fell asleep for a few good hours.

---

When he came to, he heard a knocking on the door, and peered through the grey morning light to find...

...oh Vog, her again.

Vin tisked and clicked his tongue in disapproval, and braced himself as he opened the do-

Never mind, even bracing himself wouldn't work against Uni-chan's assault.

"VIIIIIIIINNN!!!" was all she shouted as she literally tackled him down, to which she then proceeded to bear-hug and snuggle with the baker like a little puppy-dog to a mother. Of course, it raised more than a few eyebrows to the passer-by's, although the baker himself wasn't embarrassed by this strange greeting. Of course, when a young man, about 21 years old tried to enter, Vin grinned mischeviously.

Travid shook his head back in reply, his eyes fearful.

Neither of these men wanted to go out with Uni.

"Uni..."

"Eh?"

"Remember Travid?"

"The little thief that stole your crowns that day on the fou-"

"He's right behind you; date with him."

"Sure, whatever you sa- HOLD UP A MI-"

Vin flipped her on her back, a pushed her off...right into Travid. The both of them keeled over, and this time, Uni was on top of Travid. Might've been awkward if she was on top of a sixty-year old baker in an 18-year old body.

This raised more than a few heartbroken cries from the usual flirtatious schoolgirls, which snapped both of them out of their awkward trance.

Unfortunately, the baker closed his doors, pulled down the ironwood shutters, and locked up the bakery, leaving the two alone to their own devices.

---

And so, the two acquaintances were walking side-by-side across Haven's bridge silently, Uni only bothering to look down at the Chasm below with some disinterest. She was used to the clinking gears since her birth on this planet, and the Clockworks were familiar to her. However, people like Vin would still stare out at the Chasm in shock and amazement, mainly because they simply weren't accustomed to it. They would never be for the remainder of their lives.

A gust of cold air rose up from below, chilling the two of them to the bone. Uni materialzed a Vog Cub coat around herself, but Travid kept on walking, shivering.

"Hey...um...Travid?"

"Yeah?"

"Here," she said, and pressed closer against him.

He was surprised at first, but nodded his head in thanks.

~~~

Travid honestly had no idea, NO IDEA whatsoever, why he was in an alley, surrounded by six thugs.

All he had done was sit down at Haven's fountain, and chatted a bit with Uni. Moorcroft was too cold for the both of them, and so they moved upwards, towards sunshine and warmth. Of course, he wasn't interested in her, nor she to him. As a date, it failed miserably. As a friendly conversation, it was a perfect example. She got to know a bit about his past, and about hers, and how she used to be madly in love with a boy named Zero...

...but times changed, and she along with it.

And so it was the same for Travid. He used to steal for his family, and it became a bad habit afterwards. However, after securing a stable job in the Order, he made plenty of money, enough to last his family for generations, and so he retired at the young age of 21.

Times had changed, and he had too.

And so, the "date", or what Vin had labelled it, wasn't a "date", but a proper introduction to each other.

But right after she left the fountain, he found himself being pursued by a couple of brawnier men. Uni wasn't a black-hat hacker, but was now a cyber-security designer. This wouldn't be related to her...

Travid already cut all his ties to the mob bosses and the thieves. He made enough money to pay off all their debts, so it wasn't a grudge against him either...

And then he remembered the money he made.

Reality came to hit the young man like a hammer against a nail, and for the first time in months, beads of sweat rolled down his skin, and a chill ran down his spine.

But in his missions, he had learned that his fear turned into deranged bravery. Today would be just like that...

The young man took a defensive stance, and his breathing slowed.

Even if there were cold iron bits in his stomach, too much fear would make him jittery. Jittery would mean losing. Losing would mean losing a home.

If he lost a home, his family would have nowhere to go. Vin was under the radar, and the money he made could only support himself. He didn't want to be dependent on his friends, who were saving up for their own lives.

And as the first thug stepped forward, Travid realized it all boiled down to survival. Even a mugging would bring disaster. Another step, the familiar, slow twist of the waist, the path of the fist coming towards his face...

Lean back.

Grab forearm.

Pull inwards.

Strike Adam's Apple.

Grab head.

Slam knee into eye socket, add another knee strike onto temple.

Drop him to the floor, and wait.

The other five formed a half-circle around him, and the rushed in all at once.

Duck under flying knee kick, elbow backwards, onto spine. Temporarily disabled.

Pivot body to flow with the punch's path, minimize damage.

Grab neck, squeeze. Wind up for a harder punch, slam into nose, break cartilage. Head-butt.

Pivot again to flow with the next punch. Spin, elbow strike to the temple.

Drop to the floor from a kick from behind. Roll to the left to avoid stomp.

Pull up sleeve, bite Achilles tendon. Pull, tear, spit.

Curl upwards while being pulled by the legs, raise arms to block punch.

Pull sleeve, bite wrist. Pull, tear, spit again.

Curl up further, slap both hands onto ears, causing debilitation. Cup left temple with free hand, hammer-fist right temple until submission.

---

Under half a minute. Blood was dripping out of the young man's mouth, bits of flesh stuck between his teeth. A bruise was forming around his
cheekbone. A cut eyebrow, dripping blood into left eye. Minor bruising on arms.

Considering he had zero contact with combat for a third of the year, it wasn't terrible.

Travid sighed, and slid down the wall. Half-consciously, he activated his HUD, and signaled an alarm beacon, and waited.

He got more and more tired, and then all seemed warm, comfy, and dark.

~~~

"...hey, you alright there?"

Huh, who's talking?

"Hey! Are you awake?"

Travid snapped open his eyes, and inhaled a gulp of air. Sores on his arms and legs were brought back out again, and he groaned from the aching. He didn't even bother facing the woman who was talking to him.

"Thank goodness you're alright," the woman sighed. "You activated a beacon, and I came running as fast as I could. It looks like six guys tried to mug you. You beat them all up."

The young man nodded his head.

"Yeah..." he mumbled, and was about to continue, when he saw the woman. Ice-blue eyes, pale skin, silver-white hair...

But she was tying it all up in a bun, and had on an Enforcer's outfit. Her dirtied sleeves indicated she was in combat with someone else, but is was nothing unusual for a cop. Still, that voice...

"G-gwen?"

She said nothing, but stepped out of the way to show 12 more thugs on the floor, all handcuffed face-down.

"I'll handle the rest, go nod off somewhere else."

Travid was about to ask, when he realized he realized she had a different tone in her voice.

Get going, now. Vin's bakery. I'll meet you there later.

He looked at Gwen weirdly for a second, as he wasn't familiar with her telepathy, but nodded. He stood up, and hobbled away from the scene. He activated his Dusker coat, and wrapped himself around it. The warmth of the armor would ease the aches on his wounds.

Meanwhile, Gwen materialized 18 handcuffs, and cuffed all the unconscious thugs. She pulled out her radio, ordered two teams of ambulance and a police unit, and then departed herself.

~~~

"You needed a job?"

"Yeah! I just bought the building right next to yours, and I don't really feel like opening up a business on the bottom floor. At least, not until I can get familiar with the people here."

"Well, I'm not hiring right now...but..."

"But..?"

"Let's say I knock down this wall, and make the bottom floor of yours a larger catering area..."

"H-hey! I'm not sure if I'm gonna be here for the long run!"

"Just kidding! Look, I'll let you help out for a couple of months, and we'll see if you like it. If you want this business to be yours, knock down the wall. If not, we can leave it as it is. By the way, I didn't catch your name."

"Just call me Elizabeth."

"My full name is Vincent [???] [???]. The people here just call me Vin. Pleasure to meet you."

They shook hands.

---

Twelve hours later, Elizabeth was hard at work kneading bread, pounding and twisting at the dough. Small clouds of flour drifted off of the table and dispersed as they dropped, dusting her white apron with the creamy streaks. Her hands were caked with the stuff, which smeared onto her hair and face as she rubbed the developing itch with her wrist. Once again, she resumed her work, and she finally plopped the dough into a pot, similar to a French Oven [look on Google Images for reference]. She brushed the top with butter, and sliced three streaks across, and slid it onto the scalding rack for baking. She then took a folded cloth, and gently pushed the rack into the oven.

"Next time, don't bother to knead the bread, and you forgot to add the wheat bran," Vin sighed.

Elizabeth finally took notice of the container, and facepalmed.

"Flour's all over your face," he pointed out.

"What?"

"Did you forget to wash?"

Elizabeth reddened at this, and strode to the sink. A great deal of splashing lasted for a few minutes, and she was all clean again. Except her hair was drenched.

"Elizabeth, I think I'll take back the apron now. You're hired."

Elizabeth squealed in delight, and ran out of the kitchen.

With the apron.

The baker slammed his head into the wall. He was going to have a hard, hard time making her learn how to bake.

~~~

*knocknocknocknockKNOCKKNOCKKNO-*

Vin opened the door, and socked Travid on the forehead. The young man fell flat on his butt, and rubbed the injured spot gingerly.

"I already heard the knock the first time...

Woah, got some injuries on you. Uni kicked your butt or something?"

The young man shook his head, and scratched at his blood-caked eyebrow. "No, just six buff guys trying to mug me. I don't think I'm cut out for fighting..."

Vin nodded in agreement. "You were a better Recon than an average grunt, anyways. Wouldn't be surprised if you forgot hand-to-hand if you've neglected it for months."

He held out his hand, and Travid took it. A pang of envy hit the young man as he saw the baker's defined arm flex as it pulled him up, and sighed in self-wallowing.

"Did they get your money?"

Travid shook his head.

"Just wish you could lift like me? I don't lift, if you're thinking about getting muscles like me."

Travid sighed again, apparently even more sad. Vin tisked in thought, and, after a moment's passing, snapped his fingers.

"Alright, just wait at a table, I might lift up that mood of yours with a few treats of mine...

...and since your rent is...like what, two or three days from now, I'll put it on the house. For your sis and mother. I heard the family's adopting a little boy."

Travid nodded his head. "Yeah, he's just two months old. His mother is a pretty young girl, only 17. Figured that we'd keep him until his mom could take care of herself...erm..."

The baker was gone in the kitchen.

After a few minutes passed, the door opened, and a lady, definitely reaching her prime age, walked in. She had an apron around her, the flowery scents indicating its recent washing.

"Excuse me, sir, but do you know where's Vin?"

Travid pointed back to the kitchen. "He's getting some things. Are you his..?"

"Apprentice?" she cut in. "Yes, I just started several hours ago. Still a lot of learning to do, but I'll see if I get any better within the next couple of months."

Travid nodded, and laid his head down on the smooth, cold wood. His thoughts wandered off to other things, like supporting his family, paying rent, and so forth...

...and he slept.

~~~

When Travid came to, a small box filled to the brim with sweets sat in front of him. It was night now, the golden sun now hidden by a solemn blanket of clouds. Of course, the Moorcroft province was always eerily cold, but the rays of the sun gave it a simple wintery chill. At night, the very land itself evoked a sense of insecurity.

A perfect place for students to hang out and kick back. This feeling of being watched weighed down more heavily on adults, and so the child predators, gang-members, and the like would be spooked out of the town. Even delinquents were scarce around here; it was said that their memories were being read by the security staff, so any troublemakers would be escorted by a Grimalkin back to an elevator. Of course, if a person did try to attack another in Moorcroft, the Grimalkins would want to join the feeding frenzy, and so both victim and suspect would die horribly.

Which was why every household had their lights on 24/7 in Moorcroft.

So Travid, like many people, didn't feel exactly safe in the province right now. He pulled out one of the pastries, a Forbidden Fruit bun, and wolfed it down greedily. Indeed, the fruits were forbidden to most because of its effects : making one feel a pang of gluttony, as well as a sweet satisfaction, and a feeling of knowledge. Students and workers would eat these fruits often to motivate their work, which was surprisingly effective. Thanks to the Devilites, even Gremlins' work habits increased exponentially.

Travid's motivation, of course, was to eat more and more. He took his favorite : a Royal Core and Frost Gel eclair, and whittled away at it as a beaver does to a tree. He swallowed the Ecto Drop Pie with two bites, and he was done.

He climbed onto the platform with a sense of content, and so he travelled upwards, back towards Haven.

His sister, brother, and mom would be waiting for him.

Travid's footsteps on the ever-shining cobblestone streets of Haven felt satisfying. Euphoria, for the lack of a better word, was what walking brought to him.

Him walking home with a box of his family's favorite pastries, knowing that he'd have a mother and a sister to delight with Vin's latest batch. On the house, no less.

However, a feeling of anxiety crawled up his head, and soon, his leisurely ramble was plagued by worry. He didn't know what would happen to them while he was away, even if his sister had been training to enter the Order, as he had done. After all, he had the guts to protect them, and his sister never touched combat. His mother was an aging woman who had only recently left her prime. If there were going to be intruders at the home, they would be unprotected. And there was also the baby to worry over...

Soon, his pace became a trot, a lope, and then a full on sprint. Through boulevards, streets, bypassing cul-de-sacs, and other roads, he only stopped when he flung the door open, panting.

His sister, a beautiful sixteen year old girl that was his pride and joy, and his mother, the wiser, seasoned version of the former...

...they were both safe. Mom, clad in her usual one-piece dress and apron, was making another soup, this one probably filled with chunks of snipe meat and Chromalisk ribs. She smiled warmly at him, and went back to work.

Lil' Sis, her name was Claire, she was in the middle of tinkering with her own gun, a refurbished Catalyzer. She also gave a heart-melting smile to her eldest sibling, but her face soon turned into worry. For a second, Travid thought his very being at home was the cause, but she turned his face, and inspected his wounds.

"You're hurt! My god, what happened..? Was it someone from the mob bosses?"

He shook his head, and giggled a bit. "No, just a bunch of street thugs. Tried to mug me on the way home..."

He then held up the box, and giggled a bit more. "Brought home some of the buns Vin made. Our favorites! By the way, can Leon eat solid foods yet?"

Claire shook her head.

"No, he's still on baby food," she replied, and took a deep breath. Suddenly, she slapped him straight across the face with her hand, leaving a bright red mark on his cheek. Her eyes were glittering with part-relief, part-anger, part-unknown. She gave him a bear-hug, and began to sniffle and cry on his shoulder. "You worried the heck out of me..."

Of course, his sister, over time, had gone through mood swings and changes, left and right. The next day, she'd probably return to her usual calm and collected self.

But for now...

"Claire, you're crushing me."

[Author's Note : I am so evil for making families out of characters.]

---

At the end of the day, when "night" came, Travid closed the curtains, and shut off the lights. The crumbs of the buns were swept off, and the floor was mopped. The blue carpet had been vacuumed by the cleaning sprite, the one that made roundabouts every day in the complex, and all was fashionably dapper. Travid shared the sofa with Claire, and Mom cuddled with the baby, Leon. The amber rays still penetrated through the thick cloth, but it served more as a night-light in the otherwise shadowy room.

His family's silent, dark warmth was all that he needed to sleep. And he slept.

And for once, he dreamed. A rare occurrence for soldiers like him, who usually relived nightmarish battles.

~~~

Unfortunately, for the baker, he did not have dreams.

Ever.

He only had memories to relive, to come back and feel every sensation with an almost unreal clarity. Every breath he breathed was a breath in the real world. Every pain, every pleasure, all of those affected him just as severely in the world outside. In that sense, he was known for sleepwalking, but at least he didn't have any bad memories...

...until that night.

Something about that employee reminded him of a distant person he knew long ago. Take away some forty, fifty years of his life, and he was back on Isora, in an apartment. Although it was only one story, there were two bedroom, a living room, a single kitchen, closets...

...for a small family of a father, a mother, and a son, it would fit.

The father was a prodigy, as most of his generation was. They aged normally until they were in their late pubescent periods, and then development stopped altogether. No gray hairs, no wrinkles, no blemish of time would effect them. This kept their brains fresh, too, and they remained eager to learn, mentally active for an indefinite amount of time. As the father would stay indefinitely smart, he also kept his childish flaws, too.

Above all, he was a sloth. He didn't want to work for his career goals, and so he remained a simple electrician. In truth, his dream was to develop a new strain of wheat, one that could survive in much hotter conditions than the contemporary climate allowed. If it weren't for his youthful impulses, he wouldn't have been in his position.

His sloth would also land yet another wound to his life. He was lazy in his worth ethics too. Sometimes he slept, slacked off, or daydreamed on the job.

So, he took a drug to speed up his mental process. He began to work more and more efficiently, and life seemed to have smoothed out.

However, the side effects made him an angry man. He was soon abusing the drug, taking more than prescribed to enter a sort of world that moved like a snail. His wife, who was a calm, kind woman, wouldn't possess those qualities if she was extremely intelligent. Although she was above average, even her mind could not rival his in his heightened state, and so she was constantly belittled and pestered for her "slowness".

She knew that the family would be undone by the drug, and she disposed of them.

The husband understood...

...but the side effects only amplified. He wouldn't stop thinking, and then suddenly crashing. He became more irritable than ever, and he was a man not unlike those found in a domestic violence case.

It came to a point that one day, he had brutalized his family.

It was the third time he had relived this memory, and immediately he was thrown into a state of deep sorrow. It came to the point where he opened up his dossier, and took a scrap of Miracloth, and wrapped it around his head, covering his mouth. He then covered the rest of his face with a pillow, and he choked.

---

Elizabeth heard a violent thumping noise through the wall that night, causing her head to turn away from a small shrine she had constructed in her very room. The 47 incense sticks had all shifted slightly in the ash, prompting the woman to prop her ear on the wooden planks. She listened more intently, and another episode of violent struggle caused her to jump in surprise.

She bit her lip in worry, and paced about the room for a few seconds. She clenched her fist in resolve, and unlocked her window. Carefully, she slid onto the windowsill, and lowered her foot along a pipe on the wall. Making sure that only the ball of her foot was pressed onto the metal cylinder, she then allowed the rest of her body to drop down the weight. One step after the other, one dubious creak after another.

Lower the heels down, bend the knees, lean forward...

...and she leaped over to Vin's windowsill. She grabbed at the sill, had her fingernails bounce of the pane, and managed to hang on by her left hand.
Tediously, she pulled herself up, and peered into the room.

Vin was jittering on the floor, a pillow wrapped over his head.

Impulsively, she punched through the pane, and unlocked the window. Carefully, she pulled back her bloodied hand through the broken glass, and opened the window.

Within seconds, she threw the pillow off of his arms, ripped off of the gag, and shook the baker nervously.

A bead of cold sweat was running down her forehead, and her grip became tighter. She shook more vigorously, and small whimpers of anxiety were coming out of her throat.

The baker opened his half-closed eyes, and wrenched himself out of her grasp.

He, at first, was shocked, but he then calmed down after realizing what had happened. He nodded his head, and stood up. He then waved her over, and walked down the flight of steps.

"Let's see if I can get your hand patched up, and then I'll explain what just happened..."

~~~

"I was...a drug addict," Vin explained hesitantly. Several glass shards were on the bed, staining the snow-white linen with hemoglobin. He was in the middle of wrapping Elizabeth's hand with a thin length of Miracloth, making sure the wrap was tight.

"I had a girlfriend and a two-month son. Our family was falling apart, and she tried to get me off the drugs. When I went into withdrawal, the hospital was too far away when it happened, I...yeah."

Elizabeth only froze in shock.

Vin finished the wrap.

"Anyhow, sentenced for manslaughter, thanks to my lawyer, and I was gonna be carted off to some other planet for lifelong labor. I snuck off, and ended up here, on Cradle."

Elizabeth still froze.

"And the only ship to get here was the Skylark, 45 years ago. I was 19 at the time."

He then noticed something on Elizabeth's arm. A small, brown, clean mark. It seemed awfully familiar to a scar...

Without warning, he pulled up her left sleeve, which revealed 47 cuts. Vin looked up to her face, alarmed, but Elizabeth only remained still. She didn't know how to react to this situation. Was Vin still sane? Could he hurt her in the future? How was she going to explain the sca-

Next thing she knew, Vin was pouring a bit of alcohol on hand, causing pain to spasm up and down her arm. Impulsively, she recoiled, but Vin held on firmly.

"Thank you for saving me, because every time I think about it, I feel like a sack of maggots. I'm disgusted by my own self for that.

Now, you can quit right now, I'll pay you 100k for thanks, and we can say this never ha-"

"No," Elizabeth replied.

Vin looked up, a bit surprised.

The woman shook her head. "I'm not going to leave you wanting to kill yourself."

The baker nodded, and released his grip.

"Go back to sleep. You can tell me about those scars later, if you want to."

~~~

And so, after Elizabeth's hand had recovered, she went back to working at the bakery as usual. She said nothing about her scars, and Vin needn't ask about it. After all, he didn't want to make her feel any more awkward than their current situation was, and so life continued without any abruptions.

Nai, after eating the pastry, joined Travid in his lab rat adventures by tasting and eating any and every new concept Vin had plated out. No matter how scrumptious or unsavory it was, the two managed to wolf down everything Vin threw at them, and always came back for more.

Nai's learning continued, and although his body didn't change much, he gained a lot more fighting skills.

Uni was pretty busy, as she usually was, helping the Order bolster its defenses against cyber-attacks. She wasn't able to visit the bakery much, but she tried to take breaks as often as possible. Well, more like secretly escaping the Arcade while waiting for the anti-virus to update...

Claire finally entered into the Order, and was a Recruit. She learned about teamwork, but not much else was new to her, considering she was born right on Cradle. Mother, unfortunately, pulled a couple of muscles, and also strained a few tendons. The two kids take care of Leon, who started to wake up more often.

Gwen and Xindao still get into arguments now and then. While her brother had been worrying about her, she was busy cleaning up the streets of Haven of any "uncouth delinquents", which included drug lords, crime bosses, gangsters, and so forth.

It wasn't a bad couple of weeks, really. Life was pretty normal, save for the few changes with Nai, Elizabeth, and Vin. Otherwise, everyone continued their daily routines.

But then again, it was only the beginning of Autumn when this happened.

And there was still the Dark Harvest Festival to be celebrated. There would be the difficult process of conjuring up Black Kats and Margrel again; pumpkins were to be harvested, measured in contests, and then eaten; and plenty of tricks from the Punkin King himself would be going about Cradle again.

It was going to be a busy time for everyone.