Crys: Doesn't it feel weird to write in something that isn't a 2007 program?
Kat: Just a bit. We've been using that set of programs too long. OpenOffice just stinks though.
Vix: They are just going to babble aren't they?
Embria: Probably... So, I'll be making intos. You'll see me later after this anyways, but probably not any time soon. Vixen's Shadow, the collective person or the individual personalities, does not own The World Ends With You in any way shape or form, except a copy of the video game. Vixen's Shadow however does own each of the individual personalities, me, and a few other OCs that pop up, unless listed otherwise. The plot is unsure area to claim, as it is difficult to say a person owns a plot.
Kat: Very nice job Embria. Impressive for your first time being anything besides the brat thats hard to write for.
Embria: You're the one who made me hard to write. You said something about changing the way I sound in the first place. Making me prickly and other nonsense.
Crys: Yah! She found the way she should behave! Calmer 'til you tick her off. Which seems to be easy.
Vix: Let's get this show on a road. Oh and the first thing in italics is some random quote from us... Based on some other random quote be some random person. Then we have some random section like any of the recent Square games by whatshisface. That's actually the only reason why we started this way. Next couple chapters, when we get to them, will be much longer. We just seem to write really short first chapters. And sorry about the title and the summary... we can be really bad at both.
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As long as you live there's another day. So as long as there is another day there is life, just not always the way or where expected.
"What the hell?!?"
The world doesn't always expect or except you
'I've got friends now'
However, there are always a few see... well you.
'I can't forgive you...'
Sometimes you must...
'but I trust you'
take that first step.
Moderate blue eyes open towards the sky, which is a similar color. Moving, the boy quickly got up, due to the danger brought along with people, constantly chattering away while walking around. The talking echoed around him causing the words to blur into incomprehensible noise. The noise was foreign yet very similar to what he was used to. Gawking at his surroundings the orange haired boy stood still, until someone walked through him. Not running and causing him to move, just though him. Set into a panic the boy almost screamed. His cell phone started ringing that a text had been received. Blue eyes met the screen that read:
'Welcome to Reaper's Game of Manhattan, Neku Sakuraba'