It was that time of day when the streetlights just started turning on in the Second District, the kind of time when most people concluded whatever business brought them outdoors and hustled home. And so it went, friendly goodbyes exchanged, promises to call, last-minute plans to meet over dinner tomorrow, and the streets cleared as though a giant vacuum had sucked the life out of the area.

At least, so it seemed to Lute. The farmboy sat on a bench near the fountain across from the stairs to the upper tier, his curly, purple hair waving gently in a passing breeze that washed over his still form, rustling his clothing only so much. This world wasn't that bad, really, compared to some other places he could have ended up. Oh, yes, he'd heard the horror stories. Once, he even saw someone come back from a trip to his friend's home world barely alive.

But that was neither here nor there. What was here was his lute, a gift from his mother for his fourteenth birthday, and his namesake, for the time being. It likely would be for a long time, truth be told. He had left his real name back with his home world, and he would not take that name until he had restored Yorktown to everything he remembered.

There was one looming issue with this goal. He had no wheels. Okay, yeah, that's not what they were called around this multiversal town, but local lingo aside, Lute needed transportation to do jack diddly. He'd been asking around, but his up-front attitude and general good nature seemed to make people think he had something to hide. It didn't help that when he introduced himself, the name they heard was obviously not given at birth. To top it all off, he was a country boy, and most of the intricacies of space travel mystified him to the point of zoning out.

Yorktown had been entirely supplied by underground rivers, and even here, he saw no actual bodies of water, so when they compared their "gummy shipz" to "botes," Lute remained completely uninformed....

"Okay, ev'n m' head's ramblin' off like some kinda idjit. Can't connect two'a them thoughts give me rope'n sommat tie they up with." Not in the habit of talking to himself out loud, the farmboy realized the stress he was heaping upon himself by taking the weight of his home world on his shoulders. Gotta relax, nah. Keep m'mind sharp.

And that's exactly what he did. Adjusting the knife at his belt so that he could lean back and forth as was his wont, Lute placed his left hand on the second fret of his lute, pressing down strings strategically and sliding the hand up and down as his right began to strum. After a measure or two, Lute joined his melodic voice with the soothing sound of his instrument, singing an old folk song, Stuck at the Bottom of the Well. It fits, he thought as he played, although I wouldn't exactly call this the bottom. Lute's eyes closed as his head wrapped around the song so thoroughly that he would not be able to notice anyone or anything around him.

Which may explain how night crept up on him, darkness washing over the District like an oppressive weight. The optimistic youth failed to notice the warning signs, to hear the warbling cry of the Shadows that drew up from the ground, did not see them advance on him in their side-to-side gait. But Goddamn, Sam, he felt the sharp claws rip into his shin clear as day. With a yelp of surprise and pain, Lute flinched away from the claws as his eyes opened and he saw the depth of the danger he was in.

First order of business, he had to get to a more favorable position to fight back. Standing quickly and hopping onto the bench, Lute jumped while turning, grabbing the ledge of the handrail that kept those on the upper tier from falling and scrambled up, momentarily forgetting where his lute was, earning it a scratch against the stone. Quickly passing the instrument over his head to free himself of the strap, he looked wildly around for not only somewhere to fight, but somewhere to place his instrument to keep it from further damage.

There! The country boy spied the higher ground leading into the Gizmo Shop and took off, looking behind to see the Shadows swimming over the wall like they could swim through the ground. That was really unfair. Like hell would Lute ever be able to do something like that! He had less time than he thought. Involuntarily, his hand grasped his knife while he bounded up the steps, dropping his lute somewhat roughly in the corner where it would hopefully escape the hubbub.

Whipping out his weapon, Lute turned to face his foes, still a bit too naive to consider his luck that this was all he was up against. Stalking to the left in a futile attempt to isolate them into a line, the errant youth saw that his attempt was fruitless and began actively planning. Tales told of these things running you to death if you fled, so that was not an option. He had to fight them, and fight smart....

Not exactly his cup of tea.

He knew that, too. One of his strengths was that he knew his weaknesses, and his inexperience was glaring right at him. He might need help, but it wasn't very likely he'd find it. Stupid, stupid, stupid farmboy! Way to lead them away from the populace that might help you! No, self-admonishment would get him nowhere. He had to concentrate on the matter at hand.

A slight breeze whisked by, rustling his clothes, and all five of the Shadows seemed to take it as a cue to launch their attacks at him at once, leaping into the air, swimming through the ground around him to surface behind him, and one with a straight-up charge. That's the one he'd take care of first.

Lute wound up to swing, and the little guy dodged around the knife. However, that was a deception. Lute knew the Shadow would dodge; he wasn't that green. The boy's left fist, propelled by years of hard work on a farm, caught the creature in the face and knocked it backward. Trying not to give the ones behind him too much of an opening, he pressed the attack, swinging his knife again and again until the monster had nowhere left to dodge. With a smirk of victory, Lute sent the creature back where it came from using a simple thrust to the torso.

Immediately, he dove to the side, knowing that the others would likely be right behind him, but he wasn't quite fast enough. One of them latched on to his back with its feet, swinging its claws with reckless abandon into the boy's flesh. Lute's scream of agony echoed off the tall storefronts as he thrashed desperately to get it off, knife swinging awkwardly behind him as he stumbled forward, falling back down the steps he had climbed before with a painful thud.

A portal appeared out of the shadows of the Gizmo Shop. A dark figure walked towards one of the street lights and a familiar face was shown. Not to the boy in trouble, but around these parts. Acting on instincts, Axel wielded his chakrams. He ran into the darkness, slashing away at the unwelcome creatures. They were sent back to where they came from. A few moments later, more came out of nowhere and surrounded him. Thinking on his feet, he reacted with fire. His best ability. Axel uses it at least once in every battle. I mean, who wouldn't if it was their best ability?

He closed his eyes and concentrated for what seemed like forever. The dark figures were in the air heading straight for him faster and faster. Their eyes were locked on him like dozens of stares tearing a whole through something. They had their claws out in the open ready to attack the Nobody. Each one ready to attach itself to anything in its path. Finally, Axel's chakrams began to spin violently at his sides. Fire appeared as well. Just as the creatures became within reaching distance, Axel opened his eyes with a slight grin on his face as he propelled them towards his foes. The two chakrams danced around the ruthless monsters creating a magnificent fire show. To take care of the rest, he summoned a ring of fire that engulfed every last one of them.

As the fire faded, the world returned to darkness. Axel walked over to the strange farm boy and stood there for a moment before speaking. "That was quite show you put on earlier. You've got guts, kid."

Lute did not answer for a moment, panting heavily and rolling over to put pressure on his back. Pressure was supposed to stop the bleeding, or at least so he heard. Bringing up his knee, he also used his hands to clasp his shin where it had been ripped to strips by Heartless claws. Marginally raising his head to get a view of his rescuer, Lute smiled. He looked like a good enough fellow, even if he over-did the light show.

After a minute or two, he figured he'd done as much as he could, and slowly sat up, grabbing the knife he had dropped in his previous struggle and sheathed it. "Thank'ya kindly, sir, tell you wut, best I ever did." Brushing himself off, he opened his mouth to speak again, but out of the corner of his eye he saw his lute. "AH!" Quickly, he threaded around Axel and scooped up the instrument luke a child, looking it over with a practiced eye. Besides the scratch gained from the climb, there was no further damage, and Lute sighed audibly with relief. Once again, he stood, lifting the lute over his head and placing it at his back, strap across his chest.

"Sorry 'bout that," the youth began. "Not mah intent t'be rude, y'see, never would, but m'lute's m'most treasured posession. Ah don't right know what I'd do this here," he gestured over his shoulder at the instrument, "get itself broke."

Approaching Axel, Lute stuck out his hand. "Thanks again. M'name's Lute. What'll I call ya?" His stance spoke of absolute trust, his smile of untroubled thoughts. Yeah, his back hurt, but that could wait. It wasn't like that thing had done any serious damage before the redhead flameboy showed up, or Lute would have been out of it by now. "An' 'fore I ferget, you put on a show ten times by what I could dream of."

Axel watched the boy regain his bearings. He could tell the kid had a strong will that made him able to do all the things that he had done. Therefore, the redhead knew he was going to be fine. Still, he stood there calmly watching over the stranger. There was one thing Axel found most intriguing in this one's personality, he had passion and was not afraid to let it take over. Interesting. He pondered, as the young boy finally stood up.

"Hm," the redhead snickered at his first words. Axel wasn't to fond of manners. After a few moments, the strange boy flipped out and slipped past the tall man. He came off rather like a maniac about something. Still, he kept his eye on him as he ran past. He wasn't too fast, so it wasn't that hard. He watched the kid look over his instrument as if it was alive or something.

The human spoke again. All Axel could say was, "I see." He watched the strange farm boy approach him with his hand out. Not sure what it meant, he just stood there. He got a glimpse of a smile, though. So he decided to answer. "The name's Axel. Got it memorized?" he said while pointing to his head. Hearing Lute's next words, he replied. "I guess thats pretty true. Theres no arguing with that," he grinned playfully. "So, what were you doing out here all alone anyways?" the redhead asked while putting his hand out and looking around.

"Axel," Lute said, putting a country twist on the pronounciation before he shook the hand extended firmly, then dropped it to cross his arms as he turned and leaned back against the far bannister from the lower tier, careful not to knock his lute against the wall. Contorting his lips a bit, the youth blew a stream of air upwards, ruffling his purple hair as his eyes rolled upward in thought. "Well, pro'ly not memorized jus' yet, but Ah will soon enough." It occurred to him to look around for his hat briefly, in case it had fallen off, but it had stayed put.

Turning his head aside to face Axel, boyish face quirked in a grin, Lute considered the other's question. "Don't right know, in the long run, but talkin' 'bout jus' t'day, well, got lost in mah song." He gave a little, almost apologetic shrug. "Can't focus on nothin' else get me caught up in one'a them folk songs."

Pushing off from the wall, Lute readjusted his shirt, then the strap on his lute. Eyes scanned the area, making sure they weren't surprised by any unwanted guests. Agonized as he was getting shredded by the shadow, he had noticed the other Heartless showing up. Come to think, the only one he hadn't seen show up was Axel himself.

Shoving his hands into his pockets and shifting his weight to his left foot, Lute asked, "Hey, how'd you get here, anyhow? Didn' see you runnin' up or nothin' like you was jus' poppin' outta th' woodwork. You a ninja, all up in that get-up?" His head tilted to the side as he commented on Axel's attire, eyes alight with curiosity. If he could learn how to sneak like that, he'd.... Well, he didn't know what he'd do with it, but it'd be cool, that's for sure.

Axel watched the boy put away his lute. Listening to his reason for getting caught up in this mess he thought about how lucky this so called "Lute" guy was. I mean, if the magnificent lean pyro hadn't have shown up, who knows what could have happened to the adolescent. But one thing was for sure, the kid had guts. The redhead was right about that one. "Well, you put up a good fight. Bought you some time before I got here," he said coolly. He had no idea what a "folk song" was so he quickly changed the subject.

Axel smirked at Lute's question. Looking away from the boy, his eyes followed the pavement of the street behind him. "If you should know, you were obviously to busy fighting those creatures to even notice my presence." He looked back at the kid and grinned for a second then started to walk in the direction of his last gaze. Straightening his black trench coat, he quicken his pace as if he was so set on going somewhere when he didn't even know where. All he knew was that he didn't want to stand around in the same place for too long. The heartless might strike again. The redhead definitely didn't think it was too wise to stand there and wait for them.

The night had turned into dusk as the time passed. By now the light was returning to the sky. Axel's red hair shimmered as the dim light reached it. He wasn't sure if Lute would follow him but he was willing to take the risk. Besides, Axel wasn't really looking for a new friend. He just had a sympathy for those attacked by the dreadful creatures he knows all too well. They were definitely the scum of every world, every place, and every random shadow. It was wrong not to save the ones who can't save themselves. As shallow as it may sound, its a fact.

The youth raised his hands out of his pockets and fiddled with the hem of his shirt. "Well, yeah, I s'pose that makes a mite more sense than you jus' 'ppearin' outta nowhere." He did follow Axel, but only for a bit. "Ahm gonna head for th' Firs' Distric', get m'back 'n' leg fixed up." He gave a salutory kind of wave. "Thank's again, Axel. Ah, there, see? Got it memorized."

Lute chuckled, then veered off towards the First District, a slight limp settling in as the adrenalin bled away and the pain settled in more firmly. With every step, Lute gave a hissing intake of breath, and his back burned. Oh, he was gonna feel that in the morning. His first battle outside Yorktown, and he only got the one. Supposedly, even that was pretty good for someone who didn't really know what they were doing.

Yeah, he owed Axel, big time. He turned his head back. "Hey, Axel. If you need a favor, call on me. I owe you one or two."

The lazy lobster had been sleeping soundly in his hotel room, only to be jarred awake by the sounds of calamity outside. Of course, being woken up by such noises had not forced him out of bed; he'd attempted to roll over and go back to sleep several times. However, this was to no avail, as he was wide awake now. The day would be starting soon, and he was rarely ever up for sunrise. At least not when he had his own way.

Sleepily, he had slinked out of his hotel room onto the suite's back balcony. He'd been taking in the morning twilight, in between long yawns, while wondering what to do with his day. He wanted food, that was for certain. Where to obtain it was another matter, as his restaurant choices in town were becoming rather slim. As were the results of dining and dashing far too often. So, though he hated to admit it to himself, food would probably have to wait.

He reprieved from thinking about his stomach as a peculiar youth passed by on the streets below the balcony. The boy's walk, or rather limp, would be cause for concern in the case of anyone aside from Crunch. However, for the young arthropod, concern wasn't the first thing that came to mind; though he was initially curious about the youngster's weird walking patterns. He began to ponder things beside the youth's well-being. Namely, if the boy had food. Maybe he did. He probably did. At this point, the lobster's antenna had perked up in intrigue.

Crunch kept watching and made one mental note: "If he sets it down for more than 5 seconds it's yours."

Axel kept walking in the same direction. He never stopped or even for a second changed his pace. Though, the redhead could hear Lute's voice in the background, it was faint...but clear. "Great job. I knew you could do it." He replied, raising a hand to show the kid he had gotten the message. To be honest, Axel had no idea whatsoever where he was going but what he did know was why. In fact, it didn't even matter, there are plenty more helpless humans out there being attacked by the hunters of the night. He just had to find them or...accidentally run into them, which seems to happen a lot.

The farm boy wasn't too far on his way when he turned around to speak again. The words took a good ear to comprehend. The redhead thought about it for a moment, he wasn't sure how to answer. "I'll keep that in mind. The same goes for you...even though I just helped you out," said the cunning man with a grin. His pearly whites glistening in the sunrise. The whole time he never once...looked back.

Lute gave a smirk and a nod, pushing open the large doors that lead into the First District. Stepping through, he staggered, nearly falling before catching himself against a wall. "More outta me'n Ah thought...." The boy began to hurry, knowing exactly how bad the staggering thing was from his history on the farm. Accidents happened all the time, and if you lost enough blood to stagger, you needed help, and immediately.

"Hey, hey! Anyone out thar!" Lute shouted as loud as he could, making his way to the steps that led to the central square. No one answered. Well, that probably wouldn't be good either. He needed to keep his strength up, and that meant he needed to eat.

Lute reached into his pocket and pulled out a chunk of a loaf of bread he had kept over from his lunch. That only reminded him he had not supped, and the youth's stomach growled angrily at such neglect and mistreatment. After one bite, Lute staggered again, this time hitting the ground and dropping the bread. Trying to get up immediately wouldn't really do much good; he knew that much. But he also know that he had to find some help.

The chunk of bread bounced twice, then rolled away from him.

"One.. two.. three.. four... FIVE. PAYDIRT." The lobster leaped from his balcony, crashing down upon the street below with a loud thud. Very inconspicuous. No, not really.

With an abnormal amount of haste, he set upon the chunk of bread. It was stale, and had a large bite taken out of it, which lead him to believe the previous owner had rather tough teeth. Thompson's teeth or not, the bread was his now. Without remorse, he unzipped his front pocket and stuffed the food item inside it. As he closed the zipper, his gaze wandered upon the injured youth the bread had come from.

Most would lend a hand in this sort of situation, or a pincer in his case... However this -was- Crunch making the decision here, and he'd very quickly decided that (bread aside) this kid was none of his concern. He turned on his heels and proceeded to walk away. Whistling as he did.

"Hey...." Lute weakly called out. "Ah got more food." This, of course, was not true. Need makes falsehood necessary, sometimes. That didn't mean Lute had to like it. A second note made Lute pause, though. Why wouldn't the guy help him out? That was an all new kind of callous. The purple-haired youth had gotten the feeling that Axel wasn't in the habit of helping people, but even he had common decency, it seemed.

"You want more, go get me some help, y'hear?" Again, the lie hurt his conscience. He'd apologize, later, explain why he'd needed to lie. If only it didn't sound like he was making excuses to himself. Actually....

He wasn't. It was completely pertinent. He lied, or he died. It was as simple as that. And he would rather live with a guilty conscience than die with a clean slate. As to whether or not his lie had any effect, well, that was soon to be seen.

The lobster turned back at the youth's comment, his antennae perked up at the offer. He did a full u-turn and returned to the youth's side. Nobly he puffed out his chest, as if he doing something charitable. Pincers on his hips, feet forward. "Gettin' help won't be necessary, sir!" He announced, in an almost monotone voice, attempting to sound professional. "I am a former solider of the Disney Castle Royal Guard, and trained in first-aid."

At some point the thought had entered into his head, that the more competent he appeared, the more food the boy would have to hand over. He just hoped the kid would buy it.

The youth was confused. What was the... thing... talking about? "Disney Castle? Never heard tell, but whatever y'all say." Lute began to lever himself up. "An' Ah'm a damn sight pas' firs' aid, tell you wut." He pointed toward the accessory shop. "Get y'allself up in 'ere'n get a guy call hisself Cid."

Cid had given him a hand when he first showed up, acting as a sounding board. Lute had needed a plan, or he was likely going to amount to nothing in the new world he was in. What they had come up with was for Lute to play for spare munny, which he could use to eat, and buy time to figure something out that way. It was also Cid who had taught him about the Heartless, and set him upon his mission to help anyone opposing them, albiet incidentially.

If there was anyone who would help without qualm, it'd be Cid, but that would mean that the guardian thing talking to him would have to help. There was no way Lute could make it to the shop himself, and as he flicked a glance back toward the Second District doorway, he could see the trail of blood he'd left. He was loosing it too fast. "Jus' go!"

The lobster's antenna spiked up in reaction to the boy's sharp tone. It was obvious the kid was in trouble, however it wasn't his place to care; the kid wasn't his problem. Yet, it was with that desperate scolding that he'd momentarily felt the urge to do as he was being told, and with haste.

He shook it off, literally shaking his head. The urgency of the boy's survival was now slightly lowered, at least in his perspective, as he did this. However, it was still appearing rather urgency. He stood there for 5 seconds, struggling with the decision of whether or not to comply with the boy's request... "Fine." He said, turning in the direction of the shop.

He made his way down the street in the direction of the First District, not running, but walking in a hasty, annoyed manner. He just hoped this wouldn't give the kid the impression that he was in the habit of being helpful, in any meaning of the word. "... I'm still keeping the bread." He thought to himself as he trotted.

The boy watched the crustaceon walk away, buying it for certain. A Disney Castle Royal Guard, huh? Well, might be a place to visit, but not if all the guards were like him. Of course, generalizing from one example was one of the highest forms of prejudice. He was probably one of the rougher guards. Maybe part of some special platoon, first to fight or something?

Whatever. Didn't matter. He was getting Lute some help.


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A man with short, spiky blond hair held back by a pair of aviator goggles flipped through a magazine, smiling at certain parts. "Hoo, yeah," he said, "that'd get my baby flyin'!" He noted the serial number of the airship part, smirked again, and flipped the page. "The Highwind will rise again...."

Then the door opened. He closed the magazine and rolled it up, then popped to his feet from the stool behind the counter before putting it into the back pocket of his jeans. The man then brushed a hand down his plain white tee, then leaned his hands on the counter. "Howdy, name's Cid. How can I help ya? Lookin' for a bracer, maybe, an earring? Just got a new shipment of high-class Protega chains, too, if you're interested." Taking his left hand off the counter, Cid placed it on his hip, awaiting the lobsters pleasure.

Crunch stood hunched over, grasping his knees, in an attempt to catch his breath. His eyes turned upward toward the pilot, his attention caught by the blonde's question. Taking a ragged breath, the lobster straightened his back and faced Cid. He still couldn't believe he was doing this....

"Some kid needs help. In the second district." He managed to cough out (Man, he was out of shape..). "He's injured."

The lobster was hopeful the pilot would be able to do something.

The pilot took in a breath to respond with some salesman fast-talk, then coughed, surprised by the actual content of the message. "Say WHAT?" he shouted when he could talk again, spitting out the stick he was usually seen chewing on.

Cid planted both hands on the counter and vaulted it, then hopped onto a table, and from there onto a ladder that led to the upper floor. Once into the workshop the moogles had set up, he burst out the door and took off, leaving behind a loud "Kupo!" from the startled proprieter.

Up four more steps, off to the door leading to the Second District, and through it, coming to a stop over the crumpled form of Lute. "Aw, hell, kid, look atcha." Cid knelt, assessing the injuries, and noted that moving him would be worse than not moving him. So, he needed someone with some magic. Well, no, not necessarily. No, he knew what to do.

Once again, he was running, back to the First District, digging into his pockets for the thirty munny worth of octohedron crystals. Not even bothering going around the Accessory Shop, Cid just leapt from the platform down to the alleyway and hit the ground running, sliding to a stop at the Item Shop run by those little ducks and hurrying inside.

His business was settled quickly, and he took off again. Often he had wondered why nobody ever cleaned the junk out of the alley, but now he gave thatnks that messed-up box was still where it always was, because it was, again, a lot faster than going around, and he burst back into the Second District.

Cid slid to a stop on his knees, dumping the potion he had purchased onto Lute's still form and watching the injuries close themselves somewhat. At least enough that he'd recover himself, and he'd probably be able to get around.


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Lute suddenly gasped, jerking upright. The pain was so much less it was astonishing, and he saw that the wound on his leg had closed up. How long had he been out? He looked over and saw Cid. Oh, good. He owed Cid, and that lobster guy, too. "Hey, Cid. Long time no see, y'all." The pilot brushed a thumb across his chin. "Man. You owe me-" Lute nodded. "I know." Cid barreled right on, as though Lute had not spoken. "-thirty munny for the potion."

Lute winced. He didn't really make all that much playing for tips. That was likely a full day's work. Cid saw the wince, and grimaced himself. "Awright, awright. This one's on me. But next time, you keep your skin in one piece." Lute nodded. Cid got up, going back to his shop. Yeah, he wanted to make sure that the kid was alright, but he was a businessman, and his business had been unattended for a good ten minutes.

The purple-haired youth winced as he stood, backing up and leaning against a wall to keep his balance. He took an expirimental step, trying to make sure that he could get where he needed to. Well, he actually had about twenty munny on him right now, so he should be able to come through for that guy that got him some help. He slowly, carefully, made his way to a bench and sat, waiting for his benefactor to return. The hotel, so he understood, also served food, so that should go well.

After sending the shop keeper off to tend to the youth he'd encountered, Crunch finally went back about his own business, making his way back to the hotel to food he'd 'commandeered'. He entered in through the back alley, managing to climb up a wall adjacent to his room's balcony. Letting out a relieved sigh, he dug his room key out of his pocket, unlocking the door and entering.

He yawned, and placed the key back in the recesses of his jacket's front pocket, his pincer brushing upon a piece of bread as he did. Since he was digging in the same pocket, he may as well grab it, he thought to himself. Without a second thought, he tugged the fragment of bakery produce out of the pocket. He attempted to sink his teeth into the bread.. And ended up chipping a canine.

This bread was stale, very very stale; usable as a small projectile weapon stale. He let out a loud, cry of pain, minced with a slew of incoherent curses.

He waited for hours, but the knight never showed up. Never even really gave a name, so Lute couldn't track him down to thank him. It never occcurred to him to ask around about a lobster-man, even though he was the only one Lute'd seen. That didn't mean he was the only one here.

Of course, the practicality of the matter was its own undoing. Lute gave up the waiting and headed back to the First District, towards the back alley he'd awakened in, and where he now slept, for the most part. He needed a lot of rest, and time for his blood to revocer its previous volume. Maybe then he'd look for that Axel guy. He was interesting enough.

In the mean time, recouperation was key. That and paying back Cid. That was gonna be a real bitch on the paycheck.