02-14-2020, 10:03 PM
[glow=#000,1,400]WE'VE BECOMES ECHOES BUT ECHOES, THEY FADE AWAY — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]
His heists never went unannounced. Such was it this time. KID was wary about hosting heists on Valentine's Day, the often did not go well. The cat stood upon a roof, smiling as a dove followed suit, landing on his back. He lifts up a foreleg, allowing it to land and gently petting the dove. He lets it fly off, after a few brief seconds. "It's me again! Everyone's favorite villain!" The smug smoke cat calls out, smirking.
Suddenly, a crackle reaches the phantom thief's ears. He turns on his heels, blue eyes widening. It feels as though all air has been sucked out of the teen's mouth as he stares at his own, nearby house. The smoke grapples onto the oxygen, trying to wrest it out of the air. Orange flames dot the night sky, bringing to light a pitch-black sky sans stars and the moon that shone ever so brightly, and it rivaled them.
Valentine's this year would be awful, too. His shock his evident on his face for a few seconds, he cannot help but stand there, his body wanting to sway and collapse. Instead, he frowns - a stoic look on his face, his hat hiding his eyes - and calls out, with a sense of urgency in his voice, "Oi! Doesn't a kid live there?!" Most times, when someone was in danger, KID stopped the heist to rescue whoever it was. It was no different today. He leaps down, hiding behind the building and ditching his kid outfit, deciding to deconjure it... somewhere. His paws scrape themselves on a couple rocks as he lowers himself down, and it slams against the ground, leaving slight blood in its trace.
His lungs become scratched by smoke.He tries to cough it up as he makes the mad dash for his house, his muscles themselves on fire from the neurons going back and forth. He stops in front of his house, his breath huffing, the water droplets in it immediately evaporating. There's nothing he can do, everything in him wants to call out, to cry out.
Instead, he laughs. And laughs. And laughs. His chest heaves it in as he does so, before he looks on with that ever so cold face - like he hadn't just lost his mind, like when he watched his father burn to nothing but ash. That fateful magic trick show, and now this heist, He was lucky it was not his destiny, too. He lifts his head up, orange meeting blue - two opposites. Then, he decides to make a casual remark, "So, I get an orange Valentine's Day, huh?"
Suddenly, a crackle reaches the phantom thief's ears. He turns on his heels, blue eyes widening. It feels as though all air has been sucked out of the teen's mouth as he stares at his own, nearby house. The smoke grapples onto the oxygen, trying to wrest it out of the air. Orange flames dot the night sky, bringing to light a pitch-black sky sans stars and the moon that shone ever so brightly, and it rivaled them.
Valentine's this year would be awful, too. His shock his evident on his face for a few seconds, he cannot help but stand there, his body wanting to sway and collapse. Instead, he frowns - a stoic look on his face, his hat hiding his eyes - and calls out, with a sense of urgency in his voice, "Oi! Doesn't a kid live there?!" Most times, when someone was in danger, KID stopped the heist to rescue whoever it was. It was no different today. He leaps down, hiding behind the building and ditching his kid outfit, deciding to deconjure it... somewhere. His paws scrape themselves on a couple rocks as he lowers himself down, and it slams against the ground, leaving slight blood in its trace.
His lungs become scratched by smoke.He tries to cough it up as he makes the mad dash for his house, his muscles themselves on fire from the neurons going back and forth. He stops in front of his house, his breath huffing, the water droplets in it immediately evaporating. There's nothing he can do, everything in him wants to call out, to cry out.
Instead, he laughs. And laughs. And laughs. His chest heaves it in as he does so, before he looks on with that ever so cold face - like he hadn't just lost his mind, like when he watched his father burn to nothing but ash. That fateful magic trick show, and now this heist, He was lucky it was not his destiny, too. He lifts his head up, orange meeting blue - two opposites. Then, he decides to make a casual remark, "So, I get an orange Valentine's Day, huh?"
