Team Rose Version 2.0
IMPORTANT UPDATE: Hey y'all. It's been like two years since I posted anything, so here ya go. Yes, this is is the same chapter as before, but with a twist. Rikku will no longer be a part of the Team Rose thing. Instead we have Ms. Tikal here to take her place. Show her some love! So, Rikku's part is replaced with Tikal's part, that's the only thing that has changed promised. I have allowed for anonymous reviews, so feel free to review and tell me what you think about her part. (Yes, I know it's confusing as hell and it kind of sucks. I wrote it in one day, get over it.) Anyways, the next two chapters will be rewritten with Tikal replacing Rikku, that's it. Hope you all enjoy it.
A/N: Let's give a roundo of applause for my awesomer then awesome beta reader, shielddrake42!! This ones for you! (Acutally, I take that back. The SilverXAmy ones will be for you and-Oh crap! None of you just read that! You all still dont' know one of the pairings that will in this story, do you hear me? You saw nothing!)
Third, I would like to graciously thank all of the people that have reviewed, favorited, or alerted so far! It's you guys and gals that keep my writing coming! Now, as a treat, you have my permission to raid your house for candy. I am not responsible if you get caught by your parents and punished though...
Disclaimer: Sega owns all recognizable characters. I own Paddy, Rivera, and Tiran. Honey is not a fan character. She was an awesome deleted character from Sonic Fighters who needs more love. Look it up if you want to see more!
Okay, enough rambling. And here we...go!
"Everything you want is out there waiting for you to ask. Everything also wants you. But you have to take the action to get it."
-Said by Jules Renard
Location: Rolaic's Dojo; Thirteenth Room
Time: 10 o'clock
"Hah! …Gah! … Huah!" Amy panted, working out her current frustration on the red punching bag swinging in front of her face. Her hands were sore and dry gasps raked her lungs but she continued on, memories of the recent conversation flashing behind her lidded eyes.
She stopped the bag with one hand, aware of the groaning the support beams it was hooked into were making. The mirrors covering most of the east wall showed her sweaty frame and wild hair, having had to take it out of its ponytail when strands kept coming lose. Her thin body was clothed in a tight indigo tank top with matching workout pants. Her feet were bare, as was customary in the dojo, and her clammy hands had on black gloves that were supplied by the mentors.
The dojo was like a strip mall to many people. It was erected in the Chinese style with the sliding doors and the whole nine yards, having sixteen rooms total. One hallway connected them all as the building was built like a square with a glorious garden pond in the center. Each room was rented by a mentor or a teacher that offered some form of fighting lessons to the public.
You could pay for either a group course or private lessons. Amy had been fortunate enough to have the extra fifty dollars for one-on-one lessons with her mentor. She didn't know what she would do if she was forced to listen to people gossip about their prospering love lives while she herself was doing nothing but wasting her time…
No.
She shook her head, trying hard not to recall the words exchanged between her and Johnny.
She was not wasting her time; she was merely waiting. Sonic said he would return in six years and she had promised to stay out of trouble for those-.
Six years. Six. Years. Six.
It had been seven.
Anger forgotten, the pink hedgehog slid to the floor, her knees buckling beneath her as realization finally hit her numb mind. Six years. Seven years. Six years. Seven years. Six years. Seven years.
One year difference. The facts that she had been denying were actually true. She had been trying so hard not to think about their years apart, that she had failed to see just how long it had been.
She was technically free. Free. Their promise after the fight no longer held. It was broken. The very chains that had tied her for so long had been slashed with one mere swipe of a sword.
Johnny was right. She was free and yet she wouldn't spread her wings and take to the skies. That's what he had been trying to say to her. She didn't need to wait any longer.
Somewhere in her heart, something was crying. Not small, beautiful tears but heart wrenching sobs that made her want to bury herself away within the confines of her mind, never to emerge. It felt like the world around her was dipping and swerving while she was on flat ground, unable to go along with the motions.
In the very depths of her breaking heart, doubts and denials rose at her newfound discovery.
She wasn't free. The chains of their promise might have been severed by her frail heartstrings were still intact, as strong as ever. Despite the metal links being snapped, the puppet strings held by her blue hero were still there, pulling whenever they got a chance, tying her to her fantasy world as reality slipped just that much farther away.
Like they were doing now.
Nonetheless, no matter how far she traveled from reality, a part of her wasn't willing to give him up. She wasn't ready to live in reality and leave her fairytales behind. Some part of her still loved him; regardless of his flaws.
No matter how many times he pushed her away, she was like the moon orbiting Earth. Sonic was the Earth and even though his gravity was loosening on her, she still kept revolving around in infinite patterns, weaving her own rut in the very fabric of space.
And that was what sickened her. She couldn't break free.
Her beating heart tightened at her own thoughts, threatening to burst any time soon. Sudden anger flared up within the hedgehog and, before she could stop herself, she jumped to her toes and swung wildly at the punching bag before her.
She couldn't break free. Those words rang throughout her head. She couldn't break free. She couldn't break free.
Not even time could bail her out of her prison. She was forever trapped.
He wouldn't let her break free.
Originally, she had come here to cool down and sort out her problems. Now, it seemed that her mind was more cluttered than ever. Amy almost laughed at the bittersweet moment.
"Honey, you might want to stop punching the bag so hard," said a feminine British voice from behind her, startling her. "I don't want my room collapsing in on me and I doubt you have the money to buy me a new one…"
The hedgehog sighed once, not ready to face anyone yet, but put on the best fake look of normalcy she could muster. She knew it was a fruitless effort, for the female behind her could tell whenever she was acting or faking anything, but she at least had to try.
She couldn't let anyone see her like this. Broken, so addicted to one person, unable to stand on her own two feet, weak…
Finding her calm once again, Amy glanced over her shoulder to meet the icy gray gaze of her mentor, Rivera. The older rabbit had her white ears tied back with a scrunchie forcing most of her short gray locks to tumble to her shoulders in curls, hidden by her lengthy ears. Her bangs were swept to the side and had a hint of shine to them from the sweat also plastering her curvy physique. A scarlet kimono that came to her mid-thighs and had various gold designs stitched into the fabric with a pair of black tights covered the rest of her body along with a set of fingerless black gloves.
The hedgehog noticed that, placed along her hands, was a familiar tea tray with two tiny-rimmed cups possessed a brown substance in them. Amy's mouth almost drooled at the vanilla essence wafting off of the cups but her stomach tautened in mild protest.
Rivera's eyebrows furrowed as she took in the younger girl's face. "Something troubling you?"
And this was the reason she never pursued an acting career; to be it lightly, she stunk.
"No, no," she lied, trying to grin despite the despair pulling at her heartstrings. Rivera would see through her façade no matter what she did. "I'm fine. Really. Just…tired."
Rivera sighed expectantly, setting the tray down on the wooden ground, eyes trained on her student. "You're always tired, Amy. Are you sure you're getting enough sleep? You have very dark circles around your eyelids…and the purple make-up does not do any good to hide them."
Fluffing her hair out in front of her face, Amy turned to her side, glancing at the older woman from behind the curtain of hair she had created, hoping to hide anymore details on her face that might give her away. "I'm getting enough sleep." Her voice sounded fake even to her own ears. "Honestly. I go to bed at ten o'clock and get up at seven. That's ten hours, more than enough."
"Yes, but out of those ten hours, how many of them do you actually spend… unconscious?"
Amy gulped. "Eight of them."
Rivera arched an eyebrow. "If you spent eight hours asleep, each and every night, then how to you explain the circles?" she persisted, arms crossing over her curvy form. "And you haven't been eating properly, I've noticed."
Consciously, Amy glanced down at her revealed stomach. She wasn't that thin…was she? She ate…sometimes. It wasn't her fault that she didn't gain as much weight as normal people would by eating. She exercised a lot too, so of course she would be thinner than most folks. There was a point in time where she could see every single one of her ribs. Now, she could only identify two. That was an improvement. The pink female also didn't possess a lot of curves, like most of the female population.
...Maybe that was the reason… No. He was a hero and heroes didn't care about looks…right? He wasn't that superficial. He was perfection in the making.
"I eat…" Amy denied, tugging her tank top further down her stomach. "And I just had a nightmare last night, that's all. It kept me up a bit longer."
"Nightmares are really unconscious fears of the mind," Rivera countered, settling down cross-legged on the wooden floor. A wise and serene look settled across her profile. "What fears do you have?"
Damn it. She had walked right into the set trap. "N-N-Nothing! I can't even remember the dream to be exact. It was…blurry." She tried to think of a fake dream that wouldn't lead to any unnecessary assumptions, but her mind drew up a blank.
"Blurry, you say?" Rivera cupped one of the glasses with her small and dainty hands, eyes on Amy the whole time. "Blurry images tend to represent how cluttered how brain is. Maybe you have a lot on your mind that you need to discuss."
"W-Well…not really blurry, per say, just…grainy. Like old memories." Liar.
"Grainy images usually tell us that our heart is in turmoil," Rivera declared, casually sipping her tea and focusing on its swirling contents. "Again, I ask, would you like to discuss something with me?"
It was at times like these that Amy so wished for a distraction to swoop in out of the blue. There was no way she would win in the psychology department with Rivera and she had already begun dodging so she couldn't exactly stop in the middle… "N-Nothing's wrong. I'm perfectly fine. Same old, same old."
"And what is 'same old, same old' for you?" Rivera questioned. "I've noticed that as time has gone on, instead of healing, you are steadily falling deeper and deeper into this depression that has been ruling your life. …You can't live like that forever Amy. And it won't go away on its own. You can win against this but you can't do it alone."
Amy's eyes narrowed. Who was she to tell her how she was progressing in her so-called depression? She was no therapist and it wasn't any of her or Johnny's business so why couldn't everyone just butt out?
This was a personal matter and the pink female had decided that it needed to be resolved by her own means. This was something that only she could accomplish and everyone else would just be a burden in her way. They could never understand and for various reasons. One, they would probably all tell her the same thing and two, they wouldn't understand. She was sure none of them had ever been in love with a hero even after he didn't stick to his promise. They didn't have their heartstrings turn into chains that kept you tied to that person even after you wanted to move on.
Everyone else seemed to think that friendship was the key to redemption for her, but look at where it had gotten her so far. Alone, in a foreign city, with her friends shattered about the world. Yep, friendship really saved her ass in the end. Not.
Amy opened her mouth, about to rebuff with some comment that would conclude the decision when another noise thankfully cut her off.
"Rivera! Rivera! Rivera!" screeched a high-pitched male voice coming from the hallway, the voice getting louder as the sound of thumping footsteps increased. The sliding door leading into the room flew open and a winded ferret stumbled through the door, his black coat swept to one side from the wind outside and his feet wet, showing that he had crossed the pond to get here.
Thank you distraction! Amy silently cheered, this time putting on a genuine grin at the sight of Paddy, another trainer working at the opposite end of the dojo. The two had met on Amy's first lesson here when she had accidentally walked into the wrong room. Paddy was nice enough to show her the way to Rivera's.
"Paddy," Rivera acknowledged an edge of distain to her voice at the interruption. "What is it?"
"Y-Y-You gotta see this!!" Paddy gasped, sprinting over to the TV set in the far left corner and flipping it on with one paw. His green robes, similar in design to Rivera's, almost caused him to trip on the way. He barely greeted Amy, a sure sign of his excitement.
Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he flipped the channels until he came to the news station, gesturing to the screen and making silent signals for them to listen as he turned up the almost silent volume.
Amy recognized the purple-haired reporter as Mina Mongoose, one of the famous news casters who were lucky enough to travel to Station Square and give them live footage of what was going down miles away. Unfortunately, no recording of Sonic was ever captured as they were not allowed—for safety purposes—to get to close to the home base and had to settle for the surrounding docks. Johnny sure had been happy when he had appeared in the background of the news, even going as far to call Amy and start up an excited babble about it.
This time, however, the mongoose wasn't in Station Square, rather she was outside a crowded museum with police officers and other officials in the background. The vacant Rolaic museum that had been abandoned some fifty years ago now seemed to be as popular as ever. With what, Amy had no idea.
All three were keenly listening now, hanging on the awaiting words from the reporter.
"If you are just tuning in, this is Mina Mongoose reporting live from the outskirts of Rolaic next to their once booming museum. Rumor has it that it was shut down some time ago
due to low funds and higher taxing prices. It still stands today, forgotten in the depths of the forest, until now. Recently, it has become the central focus point of the media's attention."
"Paddy," Rivera started, impatient. "Why are you making us-?"
"Sssh!" Paddy hissed, pointing to the screen. "You'll see."
"Why, you ask? The answer comes in the form of seven mysterious and rare gems that were only just discovered within the museum's main room by a young man," Mina continued on with her report, flashing her pearly white teeth at the camera. "Police officials are investigating these gems and the speculation of them being Chaos Emeralds has also been tossed around. Still, questions remain. Are the gems the famous Chaos Emeralds? If so, what are they doing here and why are they all gathered in one space? More specifically how? Tune in later for all the answers."
The screen flashed, and Paddy grinned at the two stunned females expectantly, claw on the power button. "Well? See, I told! Chaos Emeralds! They found the Chaos Emeralds! We're sure to win the war now!"
Rivera hummed a response, blinking in slight surprise. "That is good news but I fail to see why you had to interrupt our lesson just to tell us this."
Paddy glanced to the bewildered Amy, eyes softening. "I just thought that…she… would want to, you know, know and…um…"
Amy's jade green eyes were still glued to the black screen, her mind too slow to catch up with all of the reeling thoughts twisting around in her head. She was well aware of the concerned eyes of the two mentors but she was too lost to care.
They had found the Chaos Emeralds. If they gave them to Sonic… He could come home. Home. Where she was. She wouldn't have to wait anymore. The happily ever after she had chased all her life was only breaths away from her outstretched hands.
The joy she felt creeping inside her dead heart was almost too much to handle.
"They found them," the hedgehog whispered, her voice small and shaky. It seemed too surreal. After years of searching, they had finally appeared…all in the same place…at the same time…near her city…
There were too many coincidences. Doubt pushed her off the cloud that she had been riding, back into the darkness. Happiness and distrust mixed together in the pit of her stomach/ What if they were just gems the museum workers had missed when cleaning out the place? What if it was just a thief's stash of gems?
What if they couldn't get the gems to Sonic in time?
Amy almost yelped aloud in pain at that thought. No, no, no, no, no! Sonic had survived seven years without the gems; he could certainly endure a few more days.
But what if he doesn't? What if he's being killed right now, fighting with the last of his breath…?
Amy furiously shook her head, probably looking silly to Rivera and Paddy's eyes. She didn't care at the moment. There were more important things at hand.
Wait.
Rolaic museum was only seven miles away and with a car that would be an easy distant to cover. True, she didn't have a car but if she were to ask someone for a ride or take a cab…
What was she thinking? She couldn't just go off on a whim and get into these war affairs. She had promised Sonic that she would lie low for a couple of years and then stay within the bounds of Rolaic, where he assumed she would be safe and sound. Going against him, even if he hadn't held up his end of the deal, would be almost unbearable.
Hold it. The hedgehog had promised to stay inside Rolaic, but she hadn't promised to stay out of any affairs linked to the war in Rolaic.
Loopholes; you gotta love 'em. She could still stick to her promise and confirm her suspicions at the same time. Amy had the urge to scream 'BRILLANT!' and jump up and down in joy, but repressed it. Having two mentors thinking she was crazy would not lead to any pleasant conversations.
Working her frozen legs and hands again, Amy turned to face the two. "Paddy," she started, a grin spreading across her features. "You have a car right?"
The female saw bewilderment and then understanding cross Rivera's features as she dipped in acceptance, gray eyes shining lightly. The rabbit understood her intentions, and approved. Paddy just glanced between the two, looking utterly lost as he slowly nodded his answer to Amy, causing her smile to broaden.
She couldn't break free. That didn't mean she couldn't try.
Meanwhile…
Location: Angel Island, Master Emerald
Time: 10 o'clock
"I'm worried, Chaos."
Said liquefied creature turned to look at her, his pupil-lacking green eyes enticing a question. Why? The chaos clustered around him chirped and squeaked from his attention being diverted. Really. They were such children.
Tikal sighed. A deep sigh that started from the tips of her toes and coursed upwards, taking with it all the weighty feelings milling about inside of her. "It's…about Knuckles." One of waist-long dreadlocks fell into her face, causing an undignified snort to escape her.
Chaos tilted his head ever so slightly to the side.
"He hasn't checked in with us for some time," she explained, fingers fiddling. "And considering where he is…I'm worried. I have a right to be."
By some miracle, the powers-that-be had allowed Tikal to come back—if only for a limited time—when Knuckles had requested her. He had been heading off to Station Square for the impending war and carrying the Master Emerald straight into the thicket of an enemy camp eager to get their hands on anything powerful would not be the best decision. Therefore, a temporary guardian had been needed. The Chaotix had been unavailable for private reasons, Rouge and Shadow had been on high-alert at G.U.N headquarters for the time being, and asking Sonic or Tails…would be just plain stupid since they had been already tied up in the war.
The Master Emerald obviously got tired of Knuckles whining every day about how he was supposed to be battling Eggman's henchmen, said "Oh, here! Now, quit having a pity party, you big baby. Manly-man, my chromium," and spit out a very confused Tikal. She had no memories of where she had been prior to returning to Earth, but she did know that it had been a good place. Not as perfect as Angel Island, but pretty darn close. She did remember her past tribe and the Chaos event a couple years ago; that had been a good enough memory bank for her.
She didn't know the full extents of the why and how she came back, as did Knuckles, but she did know that she wasn't twiddling away her time dwelling on the matter. It was what it was and she thanked whoever-it-was-up-there for every minute she spent on the lavish plains of Angel Island. Her job was the guard the emerald and that was what she had been doing. Questions about the future and if she would be sent back once her job was complete could wait.
Chaos was an added bonus. After three years of guarding the emerald and spending every moment seated atop one of the stone pedestals, loneliness had settled in long before. The occasional chao had drifted by, spent some time with her, and had then continued to fly on. That was about all the interaction she had with the outside world for months. Don't get her wrong; she was thankful that she was being useful, but wasn't there anything to do around here? How did Knuckles do it? One could only walk so far from the dais before paranoia plagued him or her and since the island was floating…not a lot of tourism. Planes sure; but they never landed on the island, only flew in close enough to wave and move right along. Thus, equaled zip people.
Then one day, when she had been leaning against the emerald particularly bored, she had impulsively wished aloud for a companion. Cue the weird glow from the emerald that had made her jump fifteen feet in the air. Out popped a glutinous blue glop with gleaming apple-green eyes. Cue the embarrassing dance of joy she had done. (That time she was lucky for the island's isolation. Doing a poor-imitation of what she thought to be the robot was more than flush-red worthy.)
Again, she didn't question why or how Chaos got out. Apparently, the Master Emerald pitied her—which was okay with her as long as it kept her on the good end of the spectrum.
Lord knows what would happen if she fell to the bad end. The Emerald could try to send her back and "accidently" transport her into the middle of a flaming volcano. Green gems were always very touchy.
Chaos shook his head slowly, as if chiding her for her needless worries. His attention returned to the chaos who were taking turns swiping at his leg and watching in child-like wonder as their paws passed through it.
Tikal merely snorted. "Like you know anything." She chewed on her lip. "He could be dead, you know. Anything could happen to him out there and we wouldn't know it."
Chaos seemed to think that such a paranoid statement didn't deserve a response.
Tikal stuck out her tongue at his back. Maturity was overrated.
It was a peaceful day on Angel Island. Cloudless blue skies, winds making waves in the long, green grass, the emerald sparkling brighter than it had been, chaos laughing nearby. Overall, a dream come true.
So why was it that she couldn't shake the impending sense of doom washing over her?
From her usual perch on top of a broken pedestal, Tikal shifted and faced the wind so that her dreadlocks would blow away from her face instead of into it.
With six years of guardian experience under her belt now, Tikal had gone from the scrawny fourteen-year-old to a lithe and slender woman of twenty. Hitting puberty way up here had been hell, let her tell you. The first thing you noticed about her was she was taller. Much taller. According to Chaos' measurements, six-foot something. Her dreadlocks had grown out considerably from the lack of a barber shop and nowadays she usually just tied them back with one of her turquoise bracelets to keep them from obstructing her view. Nothing about her eyes had changed; still bluer than the ocean, yet her face had gotten smaller. More mature almost, like she had grown into it. Her muzzle had tanned from the constant hours in the sun as well as her arms. Subtle curves hid beneath the tight fabric of her old clothes. (Lack of a clothes store up here and her outfit hadn't grown along with her body; thus, leading to the large amounts of her stomach exposed and too short skirt on her long legs. Shoes still fit alright though, thankfully.)
The only addition to her attire was the glistening gold staff she clutched. A gift when she made the transfer from the afterlife to the living. It was light, couldn't weigh more than a pound and looked as if it had different shades of gold imbedded into it. Raised symbols dotted the handle which came up to her shoulder. On the upper portion rested a bright green gem that she assumed was from the M.E. Bronze prongs held it in place.
Very nice to look at. Useful…not so much. She had tried again and again to figure out just what powers lied in the staff, but all it seemed good for was for squashing spiders that dared make their webs too near to her sleeping place in front of the emerald. She knew the staff had potential—she could feel it in the hum it gave off when her fingers barely touched it—but she didn't know how to unlock that potential. Research was required and this wasn't the ideal place for a library; yet another set-back to the floating part of the island.
She still kept the rod though. For reassurance if nothing else. She had managed to make a leather strap out of her shoe laces and dreadlock wrappings so that she could carry it on her back. She liked the power it radiated even if she didn't know how to use it. She would eventually; she would find a way.
Sighing to herself, Tikal hopped down from her perch, butt hurting from the hard stone that had been beneath it. What to do, what to do? Unease made her pace a bit. Her destination soon became the Master Emerald as she ascended the dais's steps. She passed Chaos with a nod and smiled at the chaos. She was ever so lucky to have them for companions.
What she did next was purely impulsive. Level with the Master Emerald now, bathed in its green glow, she had the same urge that she had every time she saw it to reach out and touch it. And she did just that. The tips of her fingers brushed the edge of it. The barest tips.
She shrieked.
She couldn't describe the green orb that had flown out of the gem and ran up her arm before entering her skin, but she could very accurately describe the sensation of it. It was like fire being hit by lighting, charged, angry, and lingering. That's what made her scream and withdraw her hand with a speed rivaling Sonic's. No burns were left on her skin, but she could still feel it and see it. It pulsed green underneath her skin on her upper arm, making panic rise in her as the burning sensation remained in that one area.
Not good. Not good at all.
She shook her arm fervently, hoping to chase it away, but it stayed like it was glued to her arm, pain increasing with each pulse it gave off. She screamed again, no doubt drawing Chaos' and the chaos' attention by now. Just what she needed: an audience.
She stumbled back as a fresh wave of pain rocketed up her arm, spreading like wildfire to the rest of her body. Oh God, even the ends of her dreadlocks hurt. Somehow, her legs still held for her to stumble back again, thinking that distance from the emerald would quell the pain.
However, she miscalculated the distance from the Master Emerald to the steps.
That one step she took caused her to go tumbling down the stairs she had just ascended, head first. She clenched her eyes shut. She didn't feel her body connect with the stone as much as she felt the orb her arm throb with each hit she took, none too happy about being jarred around so much. It amped up the pain it was dealing her.
She landed at the bottom on her side, writhing in pain. The sound of someone screaming bloody murder over ridded everything else. Wait, was that her screaming? She didn't know; she couldn't feel her lungs.
Something gelatinous moved to cradle her head, feeling luxurious compared to the heat and pain piercing through her. Chaos. That's Chaos, her mind tried to register. He can help!
She forced her eyes open, expecting to see concerned apple-green eyes hovering over her.
Instead, she awoke to see what looked like a metallic prison. The minute she opened her eyes, the pain faded somewhat. She still felt it, sure, but it was like she had detached herself from her body. Wherever her body was, she was positive it was still feeling the pain, but her conscious was oblivious to it all, too intent on the weird scene before her.
The sensation of weightlessness and numbness was familiar, but it took her a while to place it. She had experience something like this before, during the Chaos event when she had given the heroes visions of the past. She hadn't felt her body, but she had been there, inhabiting a past form of her body, unable to change or do anything different.
But she had to wonder, what scene was this? She had never experience this, not yet at least.
Blood was everywhere. Staining the cold, gray computers lining one side of the circular room, on every barred, cell door that lay broken next to its adjacent cell, smeared over every cell wall in handprints that made her stomach roll, and even on the fluorescent ceiling fixtures. Their hum couldn't be heard though, over the sound of war penetrating the walls.
Where was she?
"Tikal!" someone screamed, their voice warped.
Not by her own actions, she looked to her left. A gold cat with cropped black hair was laying there, legs pinned down by a heap of rubble. Blood stained her, but her cobalt eyes were as lively as ever. "G… Amy!" she screamed, words distorted. "Help Amy!"
Again, she turned this time to her right to see the wall there had crumbled, revealing the gray sky outside. A battlefield loomed below them with fiery explosives going off every second. But that wasn't what got her attention. What drew her attention was the pink hedgehog dangling over the edge and the other figure standing over her.
She wanted to move, to do something, but the body she was in wouldn't let her. So, she watched.
The pink hedgehog clung to the broken ledge with everything she had while the black-suited man that stood over her merely laughed. His face was concealed by a helmet, but his voice was unmistakably gruff and raspy. "Aw, would you look at that? The little hedgehog is trying to hold herself up when she would be much better off just letting herself all and die. Like anyone cares about you, girl. You really think the world would mourn one death? That happens every day out here in war and nobody bats an eyelash. You "survivors" continue on with your lives like nothing even happened." He reached down to yank her up by her hair to meet his leering face. She didn't let out a cry. "It's too bad I'm going to have to kill you. If I were twenty years younger and a hedgehog, we could have some fun."
Through gritted teeth, the female muttered, "Screw you."
He laughed that kind of drunken laugh that made girls wince. "Only if you're the one doing it. What would your little blue boyfriend say if he could see you now? Hmm? All grown up and playing with the big boys?" He let go of her hair, letting her fall back to dangling position. He hunched down to her level. Tikal saw his hand snake for something in his boot. It glistened and Tikal's stomach churned with realization. "I guess we'll never know," he whispered.
Tikal's mental screamed followed through physically when he drew the knife from his boot and plunged it between the hedgehog's shoulder blades. Said girl screamed in pain, but her grip on the edge held tight.
"Still hanging on, I see?" the guy mocked. He lifted one of his combat-booted legs. "Well we'll just have to fix that, won't we?"
Do something!!! Tikal screamed, but the body wouldn't listen. She remained rooted to her spot, watching in horror at what was about to happen. She was going to die! Why couldn't she do anything?!
The guy made the dreaded move to smash her hands when the pink female finally reacted. In the mere second when she was about to be sent to her doom, she found the strength to flip herself up and over the edge, kicking the guy's face in the process. He stumbled back, tripping over a piece of rubble and cracking his head on the floor. His helmet skidded off him to land by Tikal's feet, but all she could make out was a head of black or brown hair.
Her gaze was quickly averted to that pink hedgehog that was now yanking the blade out of her back. Curses rang from her lips as she did so and once the bloody blade was in her shaky fingers, she threw it across the room.
Confusion plagued Tikal's mind. Wait, what was she going to fight with now?
Then, she saw the girl reaching for something hidden by the cuff of her boot. The light caught it and it glistened silver. What, does everything carry knives in their boots here?
But what she saw the girl lift into her hand wasn't something as simple as a knife.
It was a pistol.
Tikal had never liked guns. She found them noisy and inhumane. The mere presence of a gun signaled death and sent shivers down her spine. One twitch of the finger and boom! Someone was dead. Death couldn't be reversed. The subject of killing someone—even someone who deserved it—didn't sit well with her. Her grandmother had called her a true pacifist through and through.
So, therefore, seeing a gun pointed at an unarmed guy's head in the hands of someone she assumed to be the victim, sent bad vibes through her. She wasn't saying he didn't deserve it—because he did—but still… Shot in the head?
She wouldn't…
But the grimness of her face, the hardness in her eyes, and the way her hands grasped the gun, slippery with blood, said otherwise.
"I swore to Shadow I would never use this." She gave a little crazy laugh. "I guess I'm just a promise breaker then."
The guy scuttled back from her, changing his tune. "Please!" he begged. "Please, don't! I'll give you anything! You want money? J-Just, please—don't!"
She kept coming at him, gun never wavering. "Funny how quickly the tables turned, huh? And I don't want anything from you. You already took something from me that you can't give back. You killed him."
Him? Him who?
"I-I didn't mean to! I… I was under o-orders from Dr. Robotnik! I-I couldn't—."
"Liar!" the girl screamed, emotions getting the best of her. "You killed him in cold blood! Didn't care that he was only a child compared to the rest of us! A child! He was only fifteen!" The gun shook her hands. Tears blurred her vision. "And now he's dead! He'll never… He'll never…" Determination rushed back to her. The gun stopped trembling. She clenched her teeth to keep the tears in and she repositioned the gun.
"You know what I want from you?" she queried, sounding surprisingly calm.
The guy tried to get away but was cornered by rubble.
She didn't wait for an answer. "Your death."
The trigger was pulled. The blast went off. The guy went slack. Blood splattered everywhere.
Mentally, Tikal was screaming. The body she was in didn't respond though.
The scene swam out of focus and soon she found herself without any body, suspended in time and space, looking at who had been her host. Surprise consumed her when she saw a gruffer, stronger version of herself staring back at her. This version turned to the hedgehog who was glaring at her dead victim, gun now shaking in her hands. Instead of looking horrified or disgusted, this version of herself had a neutral expression as she nodded in satisfaction at the hedgehog, no regard for the life that had just been taken.
What in the world have I become?
Someone was screaming. A male's voice. "Amy! Amy! Amy!" A blur of blue burst through the door. Tikal's vision was too distorted to see his face or anything else.
That was the last thing she saw. Black, spider-thin lines began coursing in front of her, obscuring the vision. They kept gathering and gathering until that was all she saw. Somewhere between returning and leaving, she found a form of nothingness that scared her to death.
Where was she? What was happening? What had that vision been about? The future? How far in the future? And who were—?
Feeling returned in a blast, like somebody had plunked her back into her body all at once and she was overwhelmed with every little sensation. The familiar smells and sounds of Angel Island tickled her body. The pain had all but receded, leaving her feeling weak and spent, bruises from falling down the stairs now noticed. She inhaled a shaky breath, expecting to smell blood, metal, and the after stench of a gun being fired. When she didn't, she trusted herself to open her eyes.
Bright green eyes were suspended above her. The blue form of Chaos nearly blended into the sky. Obvious concern showed in his otherwise drab expression. The chaos clustered around him, hanging back and staring at her with alarm.
She opened her mouth to try to say something only to find her lungs raw from her previous screaming. Dried sweat plastered her trembling body and she felt the urge to vomit when she thought about what she had seen and experienced. "I—." How could she explain what she had just gone through. 'I saw the future?'
All from an orb from the Master Emerald…
She glanced at the aforementioned gem. Shock awakened her dead limbs.
What looked like tiny green fireflies surrounded the emerald. They pulsed with life and looked harmless flittering about, but the pain Tikal had experienced was all too real in her memories to fool her.
"N-No…" she whispered. "N-No! No! No!"
Chaos stared at her, worried for her but she didn't care. She couldn't let those things touch her. Somehow, her legs held out as she scrambled to them. Her eyes were locked on the pedestal where the fireflies gathered, watching in horror as one by one they started descending the steps in a neat little line.
Tikal staggered backwards. "Get away!" she screamed. "Get away! I don't want to see anymore!"
They kept coming towards her at the same leisurely pace, heedless of her fear for them or just not caring.
"Didn't you hear me?" she sobbed, still backing up. "I don't want to see anymore!" She slipped over something on the ground. A look down revealed it to be her staff. It must have fallen from her hand when she freaked out. Desperate for some type of weapon, she picked it up and swung it at the advancing orbs. "Get away! Be gone! I don't want to see anymore!!"
To Chaos' eyes, she must've looked like a raving lunatic. Hysteria made her not care. The liquefied life form slowly rose to his legs and reached out a hand to her tentatively, like she was a wild animal needing to be coaxed into trusting him. But just as he reached out his hand, one firefly barely brushed the top of his arm as it came towards her. Though it didn't enter him, it had the same effect. The area the thing touched started steaming like it had evaporated the water there. Chaos lurched back, bringing his injured arm in close as he stared, baffled, at the floating green things.
She wanted to laugh and say something along the lines of, "See, I'm not crazy," but she was too busy going crazy. Every time she hit one of things with her staff, it was pass right through and keep coming at her. There were hundreds now, spreading out on the ground and coming towards her from all angles. More were pouring from the Master Emerald with no end in sight.
Chaos and the chaos had backed up into a corner off, too scared of the things to get any closer. And if Chaos was scared of it, it had to be bad.
"Why?" she cried, pleading to the Master Emerald. "Why did you show me that? Why are you doing this? Is there something you want to tell me? Just tell me then. Tell me…please."
Her begging did nothing to stop the onslaught of orbs. They were circling her now, almost touching. Nonetheless, she continued to back up, hoping and praying that this was all some twisted nightmare.
Her first warning was hearing the chaos shriek. Her second came when she realized how far she was from the dais. The third was when she looked at Chaos and see how his eyes widened in fright, shouting out to her something that she couldn't read.
The fourth and last warning came when she stepped back and there was no ground beneath her.
Her leg plunged into air and, caught off guard by this, she slipped.
And fell backwards, right off the island.
Her view of Angel Island tipped up to an endless stretch of sky that greeted her. Her shriek was swallowed up by the rush of wind that accompanied her plummet.
The only saving grace was that the fireflies didn't follow.
Meanwhile…
Location: Rolaic's Local Bar
Time: 10 o'clock
Glasses clanked together, slopping their mixed contents onto the already stained and foul-smelling floorboards. Laughs boomed around the room, being contained by the peeling walls and making the noise even louder to anyone's sensitive ears. Half of the people there though, were too drunk to walk a straight line, let alone hear correctly. Even the bartender had downed a few shots and was now swaying happily with his customers, laughing at every word that came out of someone's mouth.
Ten o'clock in the morning and already… (one, two, three, four, and five…) seven people were drunk. New world record. Bring out the cider.
Honey the Cat sighed from her regular table in the far west corner, stirring her straw around in her empty wine glass. The cherry that the bartender had so kindly placed on top of the liquid was now at the bottom, trapped by the dipped sides.
Cherries never appealed to her; no matter how much she drank.
Glancing at the one empty cup and comparing it to the hundreds of dirtied glasses strewn about the place, the female's eyebrows furrowed. She had surprised herself by only being able to down one glass of spiked wine, putting her usually five glasses to shame. Maybe she just wasn't in need of limited hours of bliss before she fell unconscious and had hangover next morning. The last one she had was hell, literally. And Tiran didn't make it any better with all of his sweet talking.
Scowling at the mere thought of his name, Honey let her cerulean eyes trail over the small bar area where the rest of the gang hung out, seeking the malicious silver wolf out.
There the moron is, she thought, finding a flash of silver surrounded by a bunch of chestnut lackeys. At least he's as far away from me as possible.
Honestly, Honey half the time didn't get why she even stuck around the bunch. They were just a group of cruel, perverted, and sick bandits. …Plus, they reeked.
Speaking of which, when was the last time she herself had had a bath? Quickly sniffing her bare arm, the feline almost immediately pulled her nose away in disgust. She smelled almost as bad as the rest of them! The faint scent of day-old cigarettes and alcohol was still fresh in her mind, as it was in her fur.
The cat decided that she would so need to sneak out sometime and visit the nearby creek. Who knew when Tiran would decide to sneak into an office building and use the showers again, and she couldn't wait that long.
Her raggedy clothes probably didn't do much to mask the scent either. The black tank top that covered her top half was frayed at the end and only came down to right below her chest area, exposing her tight stomach to the bitter cold that sometimes came this way. Thick, black bracelets that almost looked like belts were attached to her wrists and kept her loose, fingerless black gloves in place. Her dark claws were splintered at the ends from days of heists Tiran had planned. A pair of tight, leather pants cloaked her long legs, barely reaching her ankles before her old black and white tennis shoes started.
Note to self: Ask Tiran if we can hit clothing store soon. …Even if you have to bat your eyes a little.
"New hairdo?" said a familiar, teasing voice from behind her, the person's fingers lifting one of her frazzled black locks between his fingers.
Twisting around in her chair, Honey came face to face with most pleasant member of the gang, Mighty Armadillo. Her one and only true friend among the horde of criminals she willingly lived with.
His red and yellow armor gleamed from the dim lighting, bringing out his black skin nicely. Honey almost felt a twinge of jealously towards him for his simple and comfortable black T-shirt and matching slacks.
"I could say the same," Honey taunted, swatting his hand away from her hair with a grin.
"Ouch. Just because I don't have hair, doesn't mean you have to rub it in," he said, faking a look of pain.
The feline rolled her eyes. "Please. You're probably at the advantage here. You don't have to worry about finding shampoo and conditioner."
Mighty let out a laugh, slumping into the seat parallel to her, arms folded behind his head. "True, but I can never have fruity smelling locks, which is a true punishment if you think about it."
Honey couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped her lips, her fangs catching the edge of her dry lips. "You know that those shampoos don't really make your hair smell like fruit; the liquid inside just gives off that essence."
The male blinked sarcastically, an amazed look on his face. "Wow. You learn something new every day, huh?"
"It appears so."
"So…" Mighty started, hating awkward silences as much as the female did. "Which ya drinking?" His eyes caught the empty wineglass in her hand. "Or, uh, were drinking."
"Same as usual; spiked wine."
"Only one this time?"
"Yep. You don't have to worry about dragging my heavy, unconscious butt out of here this time."
"Too bad," he hummed, pulling off a disappointed look as he tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I rather enjoyed seeing Tiran's face go two shades of red."
Honey shook her head, black locks whipping at her white muzzle and frowning at the name. "Tiran is an idiotic moron. I don't care what he says or how he says it, I will never be, or even consider being, his girl." The label rolled off her tongue like venom, deep blue depths blazing at the idea of it.
The armadillo cocked his head to the side, taking in his friend's irritated appearance. "…Well," he drawled, "it looks like Tiran isn't giving up any time soon. He's still chasing you."
"I hope he trips and falls."
Snorting underneath his breath, Mighty threw back his head and let out a laugh. "Good one!" Recovering from his chuckles, the male glanced over to where Tiran was, as if to check that he wasn't listening in on them. "You know, there's always a way out…" he whispered quietly, leaning forward to muffle his tone so only Honey could hear, face solemn.
Of course she knew! What kind of idiot did he take her for? "Yes, I know," Honey snapped her voice a little louder as she glared at her companion. "I've always known."
Mighty blinked, this time looking genuinely surprised. "Then what are you still doing here?" he muttered in the same quiet tone, yellow eyes also narrowing.
Truthfully, the golden feline was touched by his concern, but many years in Tiran's pack had taught her to mask her emotions effortlessly. "It's not that simple," she hissed, bracing herself against the small wooden table as she leaned forward, ears straining to listen for any sign that someone might be overhearing them.
"What's not simple about it?" Mighty argued, right hand clenching into a fist. "You get up, tell Tiran that you're not gonna take anymore of his crap, and stalk out. No one would dare follow you and as soon as you got to the richer part of Rolaic, you'd be free. Off the hook. Cleansed. And whatever term that you wanna use."
Honey gave a quick shake of her head to his proposal, hand absentmindedly rubbing her temples. "You're making it sound like a walk in the park."
"Well it is!" he countered in a hushed whisper. "Out of everyone in this horde, you have the best bet for a better future. Tiran free! No having to kill people and then flee to the next state; no more putting up with these bastards; no more any of this shit! You'd be clean!"
"Keep your voice down," the golden female warned, her blue irises warily watching a nearby brown coyote that was looking towards them. Seeing that they were both silent, the scruffy beast shrugged his shoulders and continued gulping down his choice of poison.
"It's not that simple," Honey repeated, features pleading him to understand her circumstances. He didn't know what happened to the last guy who walked out on Tiran. He wasn't there. He didn't watch it happen, helpless.
In truth, she doubted Tiran would ever do that to her, but there was still…
Mighty gave an exasperated sigh. "Stop saying that! It's as simple or as complicated as you wanna make it and right now, you're complicating it to the next degree of difficult."
"And where do you expect me to go once I leave!" the female snapped, black claws digging into the wood in an effort to keep from drawing attention to them. Her eyes were blazing now and she had to make a conscious effort not to spring at the armadillo. "Huh? I have no degree, I didn't finish school, and I don't have a single penny to my name! It'd be exactly the same as what my life is like here: hard and unforgiving. The only difference is that I would be alone in all of it! Face it, Mighty! The only reason why anyone is with Tiran is because they have nowhere else to go! Do you think I like watching people die mercilessly in front of my eyes? Do you think I like the nightmares that plague my sleep? Do you think I like having blood stain my hands?"
She waited a beat for his answer, but all the armadillo could do was gape at her, mouth shutting and opening like he was going to say something, but changed his mind in the last minute. No doubt he was in shock. His feline friend rarely got worked up over subjects but when she did, it could get messy.
"Well, newsflash!" Honey continued, managing to keep her voice to a whisper. "I don't! Never did, never will! But you know what? I'm just going to have to put up with it for the rest of my life if I want to survive! It's either stay here or be hunted down out there by Tiran or by life's own cruel workings and I for one want to live!"
"And hiding in the nearby shadows whenever a police car is within a mile of us or having to steal everything we need is living?" Mighty inquired, recovering from his stunned phase.
Honey opened her mouth to rebuff his statement but snapped it shut again, teeth clicking against one another. He was right, she had to admit it. The putrid stench of the alleyways she had been forced to dive into was now forever engraved into her memory.
Scurrying about and living off what they could pilfer was a task for rats; not Mobians or humans.
"I-I…"
"Well, well, well. Aren't you looking hot tonight, my little Honey cat?" sneered a lecherous voice, interrupting the female's statement and both knew without even looking up who it was.
Mighty's jaw stiffened, his whole body going rigid. Honey closed her eyes, willingly the immense anger she felt to subside as she glanced over her shoulder.
Cat met wolf. Prey versus predator.
"Tiran," she acknowledged coldly, giving a formal nod. Her eyes hardened and she suddenly found it very difficult to keep the scowl off her face.
"Don't be like that, baby," Tiran leered, sliding a chair from the right table across the floor and slumping into it, eyes roaming her body. His red eyes were out of focus—a sign that he was drunk—and his black pants was the only thing still on his body; his shirt was ripped in one of their latest heists and he took obvious pride in his muscles, so any other article of clothing seemed unnecessary to him. "Seems like somebody hasn't had enough drinks yet."
He clearly ignored Mighty, not even giving him a sideways glance. All of his attention was on her. Wonderful.
She scoffed, appalled by the nauseating aroma of alcohol mingled in his breath. "I'm not in the mood, Tiran."
The silver wolf guffawed, lips curling back over his grin. "Ah come on, baby. Just a couple more and you'll be all loosened up."
Mighty growled, but Honey ignored him, more focused on getting the lusting wolf far, far away from her.
Taking her silence as a yes, Tiran waved forward one of the unfortunate waitresses that happened to be working that night. "Two of your strongest! One for me, and one for my pretty little lady right here." Tiran grinned at her and tried to reach out to stroke her arm, but Honey snapped it away from him.
The poor sparrow waitress quickly jotted it down before hurrying back to the kitchen again.
"I said I wasn't in the mood," the feline said after the maid was out of view.
"A few more sips could change that…"
"What part of 'no' don't you understand?"
"It's only just one more sip."
"No," she pronounced, feeling her nails digging into the palm of her hand. Honey's eyes glanced over to Mighty, who was staring intently at her empty wineglass on the table, forehead wrinkled in frustration.
"Dang, baby," Tiran started, his smirk flattering. "You're cold this evening. …Need a little something to help 'warm you up'?"
A small cracking sound reached her ears and made her roll her eyes. Mighty. She looked over her shoulder to find her wineglass—which he was holding at the time—had been cracked in half right at the middle of the thin handle. A few pieces had dug into his skin, but he didn't seem to notice as he looked like he was trying hard to resist the urge to punch Tiran's face in…much like she was doing.
Tiran, for the first time since he sat down, caught Mighty's glare and simply raised an eyebrow in a smug response, only causing the armadillo to bare his teeth.
The two boys had never gotten along. From the time Honey found Mighty lying on the street, practically starved to death, and had taken him to Tiran, there had been a very strong hate-hate connection going on between them. The only reason Tiran had even taken the younger guy into his group and kept him was because it was a sincere request from Honey herself. Otherwise, Tiran would have kicked the armadillo out first chance he got and knowing them both, it wouldn't go over smoothly.
Really all the hardships and worries that Honey might face going out into the world on her own, paled in comparison to what Tiran would do to Mighty as soon as she was out of earshot.
True, she did worry about how Tiran would take the news about her leaving and feared for her own safety, but the feline knew, somewhere in the back of her brain, that the silver wolf would never take his anger out on her.
He would take it out on Mighty. And her stubborn friend wouldn't hesitate to fight back, especially if the older male jeered him enough.
Still watching the intense staring contest in silence, Honey was about to break the two off when the brown coyote from earlier shot over to their table, eyes wide with a crazed look and a delighted grin spreading across his muzzle. "Boss, boss, boss, boss, boss, BOSS!!" he chanted, his eagerness taking over whilst his large tail rapped against Honey's chair in a steady rhyme. He was fortunately leaning in between the female and the buff male, blocking Mighty from view and giving him a chance to compose his 'must murder' instincts.
Tiran growled, angry gaze now directed at the coyote. "What is it, Bones? Can't it wait?"
"No, no, no, no, no, no!! You-You-You gotta com-come here, B-Boss!" stuttered Bones, his enthusiasm making it even more difficult for him to form coherent sentences. Impatiently, he directed one of his clawed hands towards the inaudible television set up the bar station. "I-I-I-It's the news!"
Honey arched an eyebrow, Mighty snorted with laughter, and Tiran slapped his forehead in exasperation, all three actions happening simultaneously.
"Yes, Bones. That is the news. That's why they call it the news channel," Tiran snarled, looking very much like he wanted to strangle the excited male in front of him. "They have it on every day."
Bones shook his head, matted brown ruffling against his neck. "No, no, no, no! I mean, boss, it's the-the-the stuff-ff on the news!"
When neither of them moved a muscle from the table, Bones groaned. "They-They're t-talking about some fancy-fancy smancy-cy Cha-Cha-Chaos Emeralds!"
He might as well have said that they were giving away gold for free, because as soon as the words left his mouth, Tiran had sprang up from his chair and barreled his way over to the TV set, pushing his way to the front at the small crowd already gathered.
Honey and Mighty reluctantly followed but more out of curiosity then anything else. Seeing that the male's hand was bleeding from the wineglass he previously shattered, the yellow feline grabbed his hand and began gently pulling the shards out of his calloused palm. Mighty sent her a grateful look and came to a stop at the edge of the circle, allowing his friend to successfully remove the final pieces.
Neither noticed the redness creeping along the armadillo's cheeks; his attention too focused on the news report and her hand on his injured one.
"If you're just tuning in, I'm Mina Mongoose, and I am standing here in front of the newest hotspot on the planet, Rolaic Museum. The museum was shut down several years because of funding issues but, as you can see behind me, it is booming now. The reason comes in the form of seven mysterious and rare gems that were only just discovered within the museum's main room by a very fortunate young man."
Honey heard several sharp intakes of breathes and glanced up at the television to see what the fuss was about. Her eyes widened at the picture of seven colorful emeralds flashing across the screen and her hand mindlessly let Mighty's drop, although he didn't seem to notice. He too was focused on the screen, a strange emotion flickering across his eyes before it disappeared all together.
The news woman—Honey recognized her as Mina--continued on with her report, wind whipping her curly and clean hair. "Police officials are investigating these gems and the speculation of them being Chaos Emeralds has also been tossed around. Still, questions remain. Are the gems the famous Chaos Emeralds? If so, what are they doing here and why are they all gathered in one space? More specifically how? Tune in later for all the answers."
The screen suddenly flashed to black and all eyes turned to the silver wolf holding the remote, a greedy grin showing itself on his muzzle. He slowly turned towards them, much of the gang already gathered around him and awaiting orders. "Boys,—and my little Honey cat—those that are sober, follow me. I think you all know which place will be next on our 'Just Hit' list."
Everyone suddenly became animated. Those that were acting beyond silly turned into jittery gossips, talking in hushed whispers with anyone next to them as they filed towards the door. Some that seemed to be drunk beyond belief were now stone, cold serious, hunger evident in their eyes.
Tiran's gang contained over eighteen and was dwindling every day. They all knew that Tiran's saying of 'those that are sober' was just a way to declare, 'anyone left behind in this bar, will be left behind indefinitely…or be killed.' Even if you were so drunk that you couldn't even see straight, you got up and followed Tiran, hoping that the toxin would work its way out of you before you were needed.
Every being dressed in black that was once crowding up the bar were now pilling out of the bar. The bartender gave a small, sad wave, disappointed at the prospect of losing so many customers.
Tiran, Honey, Mighty, and Bones were the last ones to exit. Tiran gave Bones a hearty slap on the back while he waited for 'his girl' to follow him out and Mighty was adamant about not leaving the feline's side in Tiran's presence.
"Do you know what those gems can really do?" Mighty whispered to her as they stepped out into the silent, Tiran going farther ahead to lead the group.
Honey gave a small shake of her head, mind whirling. They were going to steal with all those people and news reporters there? Tiran must have had one too many drinks.
His yellow eyes brightened, despite the direction of his companions thoughts. "Rumor has it that with all seven, you can go anywhere."
"Anywhere?"
"Yep. Anywhere. They say they can transport you to any location on Earth; no matter where you are. No one knows how to work them though and, now that I think about it, it's pretty rare to find all seven just lying about in one place. Wonder if someone was collecting 'em or something."
"Maybe," Honey mused, lips pursing together. So…anyone could use the Emeralds to go anywhere?
Even far away from here?
A/N: Boring, I know, but I had to get the intros out of the way. What I'm trying to get from this chapter is three very different girls with three very different backgrounds coming together for the same goal. Things will finally pick up next chapter and there may even be some catfighting. (No pun intended, Honey.)
Oh, and before I forget, I started a poll on my profile page about what you would like to see in this story. Vote now or forever be annoyed because you wanted more of so-so in here.
That reminds me, I need to ask you guys and gals something. The pairings in this story will be a little...strange then the normal Sonic fanfic. I am asking that everyone who is taking the time to read this keep an open mind about them. This is a different universe with more grown-up characters. The interaction of so- and so in the games might not be the same here and I am asking that there be no "I WANTED SILVERxBLAZE!!" or "YOU'RE MESSING UP THE SONIC UNIVERSE!!" please. This is my story. I will write it with the pairings I want. Nothing you guys say can change that. If you despise the pairing because so-and-so is supposed to be with so-and-so in the games, get use to it. This is not an offical Sonic game; it is merely fanfiction. I am not writing it to appeal to everyone's pairing filled minds. Again, I know for some of you this is no issue but this pairing stuff happened last time with Matchmaker. I don't mind the "I'm into SonAmy, but I'll give this a shot." What I mind is being just plain mean about it. I'm just stating it beforehand. Being Proactive as my teachers would call it. (No, not the acne medicine.)
Okay, enough seriousness. Thank you all for reading this far and I hope you all have a good day! And remember, reviews make people's days brigther and if you want me to know that you enjoy this and want faster chapters, tell me in a review. Until next chapter!