Half past midnight. The streets were dark and quiet, the shadowy atmosphere reflecting the façade put forward by the chilly star-littered sky. Two figures suddenly appeared on opposite ends of the two-lane street. Armed with bladed weapons-unique ones at that-the two men intended to settle a score once and for all...
"So, we meet again, Squall." Muttered a strict voice from the far end of the empty street.
"Do you have a problem with me, Cloud?" Answered
"As a matter of fact, I do."
"And why's that?"
"Don't be a fool." Hissed Cloud as he reached his arm up and clasped his fingers around the leather coated and wire-wrapped grip of his massive Buster Sword. "I saw how you were looking at Tifa the other night."
Squall's lips curled up into a grin as his piercing blue eyes narrowed into a stern glare, a sharp red scar visible between his eyes. His attire was simple; a pair of slick black leather pants with a multitude of maroon colored belts around his waist and right leg, a white shirt overshadowed by a tight leather jacket with a faux white fur collar, and a chain necklace with a flaming lion's head resembling a cross to finish off his ensemble. He ran his left hand through his long brown hair to brush it from his forehead as his gloved right hand swiftly glided down and wrapped around the handle of his stainless steel gunblade, its chrome finish returning the light reflected from the moon hovering in the sky above.
"Do you really think you can take me on?" Asked Squall as he tapped the trigger of his gunblade repeatedly.
Cloud shook his head at the young man's arrogance, and squinted his own pair of baby blue eyes. A cool brisk of wind whirred through the street, waving Clouds head of spiky flaxen colored hair. He was outfitted in a pair of navy blue combat pants and a thick dark blue sweater with the sleeves cut off. A brown belt wrapped around his waist, embellished with a silver lining and an ornate silver plate in the center, a matching pair of brown suspenders holding the belt in place. His left shoulder bore a solid metal piece of armor, the dullness of the metal reflected no light whatsoever. He stood a mere twenty feet away from Squall; his massive blade measuring five feet in length resting on his right shoulder with ease, his grip tight on the swords handle, his elaborate gloves tightening with his fist. Cloud was ready to strike at any moment.
"Nice costume." Crowed Squall. "Although I must say the last time I checked, Dragonball Z characters wore orange."
Cloud gritted his teeth.
"Shut up you moody bastard!" Barked Cloud. "I don't have to put up with your sorry comments. Write a poem and save them for the next coffee house!"
Squall whipped out his gunblade and leaned forward holding the blade behind him, ready for a charge. "...Whatever."
The ambience surrounding them was silent. Not a single hiss, whir, or rattle of the city life could be heard. The stage for battle was set. All they needed was a signal.
Cloud licked his lips and lowered his mammoth-sized blade to the ground in front of him, preparing for a defensive maneuver.
"GO!!"
The fight was on.