[257] Challenge Entry
Mar. 28th, 2011 12:21 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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Challenge: The Rules
Title: Improvise
Word Count: 529
Notes: No spoilers, a little bit of language. Crawled out of my hole that is life because this is just too tempting of a challenge. I have, for some reason, recently pictured Riku as the type of person who would occasionally be distracted by musical theatre, of all things. Or the type to play chess. I really don't know why.
Riku makes note of it in the back of his mind: this is the last time. The last time, not some empty promise crushed the very moment Kairi dangles bribery with sea-salt ice cream or Goofy promises to at least let him win a chess game, for once. But no, he had to foolishly accept when Sora handed him the most complicated map he had ever seen and sent him on his way through the most over-crowded, smog-filled, precipitious streets of –
bowery watts east
Well, at least the quadrupeds-that-talk part is familiar.
“Whatcha need to go there for, kid?”
Riku can hardly explain that the Gummi lightspot is inconveniently located in Central Park (or maybe it was Bryant, or Madison Square, or Washington Square…), and unless he wants to be stranded on this world while Agrabah festers in shadow (damn contingencies), he’d better get himself back before Donald hightails it outta here. The duck won’t even hear his excuses, but Riku still adamantly stands by the fact that it wasn’t his fault that he lost his way heading back from the hotel, or that Sora had thrown that pamphlet of theater showings in his face when he’d returned from his last visit, and The Importance of Being Earnest was just so distracting (they were having a matinée!)…
west orange east orange south orange why the hell are there so many oranges?
“I…err…I need to meet up with my friends, alright?” he says, frustrated now, furthered by the blare of car horns and the gushing of exhaust from the rumbling bellies of trucks. “Preferably in a way that I’m, you know, not crushed beneath two tons of steel, but you look pretty…streetwise, so…”
“Ain’t nothin’ but the best!” The canine in front of him strikes a pose, something that he must interpret as heroic or impressive or imposing, but the sausages that dangle around his neck and the lopsided sunglasses sliding across his eyes somewhat dampen the overall intention.
east river delancey
“But you can’t be streetwise with that crutch.” There’s a blur of white and orange, and then something that feels like a hot breath against the back of his knuckles as white incisors close around the accursed map. A sound of indignation dies in Riku’s throat as he whips around; the thing is fast, and as soon as he’s there he’s gone (with my only way back, dammit), leaping impossibly along the backs of crawling vehicles.
berry grand lee park avenue boerum
“You ever try breakin’ the rules, kid?”
Riku looks up. Toenails click against the back of a canary yellow taxi and eyes peer over the tops of sunglasses – there’s something almost human in them now, a wildness that throws inhibitions to the winds.
Suddenly, like a wave, the mass of traffic begins to move, spilling from stationary into the thrumming forwardness of movement. It starts to bend around a turn, and before he can lose site of that taxi, a bark – more like a laugh – rings out between blaring horns and impatient chatter.
“You gotta improvise!”
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Date: 2011-03-31 06:25 am (UTC)Bookmark'd~!
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Date: 2011-04-04 01:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-05 01:25 am (UTC)