Note: Don't own NiGHTS. Just letting you know now.
Chapter Four: Familiarity
"Jackle, I have to ask you something."
"Hmm?"
"What the hell were you thinking, you idiot, going off to fight those thugs alone?!" Reala nearly shrieked as he delivered an angry backhand to the back of Jackle's skull.
"Le frère, vous me faites mal! Calmez-vous et permettez-moi d'expliquer!" Jackle replied, flinching as Reala's knuckles came in contact with his head. "Zey inzulted you! Zey called you a dream-freak! I was not going to ztand around and lizzen to zem zay zat!"
Reala shook his head. "Jackle, really! I appreciate your enthusiasm, I really do, but now you've only got one eye to see out of and there are police swarming the whole bloody city looking for us! It's only a matter of time before some child walks under here and recognizes us."
As if on cue, a large inflatable beach ball bounced under the boardwalk and landed a few feet from Reala and Jackle, spraying them with a light mist of sand. A blonde teenage boy came running after it, his swim trunks a violent shade of purple and a lock of hair over his right eye the same violent purple. He had the oddest tattoo on his chest in the shape of a shimmering red diamond shape, and dark markings (Reala was unable to distinguish if they were tattoos or scars) on his arms of elegant, intricate patterns that ran from his shoulders to his wrists, where he had purple-and-yellow wristbands.
"Sorry! Sorry! I hit it too hard!" His voice was vaguely feminine and sounded oddly familiar to Reala, but he just couldn't place his finger on it. "Did I hit you?" The boy asked.
"Non." Jackle replied, pushing the ball back gently.
"Golly holly! What happened to your eye!" The boy asked, bending down and poking Jackle in the face.
"Arrêtez de me pousser doucement! Il fait toujours mal, vous savez!" Jackle snapped, reeling away from the teen.
"What'd ya say?"
"He said, 'Stop prodding me! It still hurts, you know!' " Reala replied.
"Hey, Little 'I'! You got the ball back?" Another pubescent voice called out.
"Oops! Yeah, I got it!" The teen called back, before picking up his ball and turning to leave. He turned back for a moment and said, "Wanna come play ball with us?"
"We're somewhat on the run right now, if you know what I mean." Reala replied dryly.
"Ohhhh, you're those guys on the poster! The cops are all over the place looking for you guys! Did you really take out the Silver Blade Gang?"
"Three of them, anyway. I took out the eyes of the last one and let him stumble home to his mother whining like a little bitch." Reala smirked evilly.
"That's so cool! They were awful. They would beat up anyone who got in their path. Don't worry, I won't sell you out. 'K?"
"Little 'I'! Do you have the ball or not?!"
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" The one called Little "I" ran off, waving to Reala and Jackle. "Bye! You should come play with us sometime!"
After the teen had left, Jackle turned to Reala and said, "Cela peut être ma conversation de perception de profondeur diminuée, mais ce gamin a-t-il regardé comme les Nuits ?"
"You have a point. Only NiGHTS would wear that violent shade of purple. But it couldn't be. NiGHTS is back in Nightmare, trapped in an Ideya Palace, is he not? There hasn't been a proper Dreamer in ages! You should just drop that idea completely, Jackle, it's wholeheartedly impossible."
"You are right... NiGHTS, 'ere? Ze idea iz laughable!" They shared a good laugh.
After a while, the teen called Little "I" came back.
"Hya! My buds went home, so I came to hang out!"
Reala gave a halfhearted wave from his spot behind a pillar, as he was currently deeply engrossed with his hunt. His claw was shoved up to the elbow in the sand.
"Got it!" He pulled his claw out and clutched in his deadly grip were about four small clams, which he promptly threw into a small bucket he'd formed out of sand like a sculpture, which he'd assigned Jackle to keep moist so it wouldn't crumble.
"Whatcha doin'?" Little "I" asked.
"Getting food. I haven't eaten in two thousand years and suddenly I have an urge for seafood." Reala replied dryly.
"Yeah, sometimes it feels like that to me too. I don't have a lot of money so I'm without food some days." Little "I" replied. "It's hard enough making the rent."
"No, seriously. I haven't had food in two thousand years." Reala replied, ripping a chunk of the wooden support beam off and picking up a rough shell. He dropped the wood on the sand and struck his claws across the shell, creating a spark. The wood immediately flared up and ignited.
"Wow! I wish I could do that!" Little "I" said.
"I learned it long ago. Come on, dinner's here." Reala grabbed the clams and dumped them directly on the flames. They sat in silence for a while.
"So... how are you supposed to get them back out?"
"Like this." Reala stuck his hand into the flames and grabbed a clam. The fire didn't even bother him one bit. Little "I" gasped and squeaked. "What? You never saw an angry fugitive stick his hand in a campfire before?" Reala asked, smirking evilly. He cracked open the clam and popped the meat into his mouth.
"No. Where I come from, fire is usually considered a bad thing."
"Where do you come from? Can't be from around here, your hair's too purple."
"You're gonna think I'm crazy... but I will say that you guys look like you're from there too."
"I would not coun' on it, youn' man. We are from a plaze where war ravagez ze land until ze ground iz zlicked with ze blood of zoldiers." Jackle replied darkly.
"Really? I didn't know that. Is that why you came to the city?" Little "I" asked, chomping down on a clam, shell and all.
"We came to zis zity not of our own choice."
"Jackle, quiet!" Reala snapped.
Little "I" ceased crunching.
"Jackle?"
"Zat iz my name, oui." Jackle said, popping a bit of clam meat into his mouth.
"I... I had a brother who's nickname was Jackle." Little "I" whispered. "He liked to gamble."
Reala did half a spit-take and choked. Both Reala and Jackle stared at Little "I" weirdly.
"Nuits?!" Jackle blurted out.
"Excuse me?" Little "I" replied. He looked at Reala closely, then gasped and jumped back. "R-Reala?!"
"NiGHTS?!"
Reala jumped to his feet too hard and heard a sickening pop in his left knee, and went over like a lead balloon, howling.
"Reala, I didn't know it was you! You look so different! What are you doing here?!"
"If we knew, Nuits, we would tell vous." Jackle replied.
"After Wizeman was defeated the second time, I fell asleep and woke up here! I thought it was a dream but I've been here ever since!" NiGHTS cried. "I figured this is the place where lost Dreamers go when they die, or something. That's when I met the Silver Blade Gang. I was scared, and they offered to let me in their club, and I didn't have anywhere else to go, so I accepted. But when I saw the bad things they were doing, I tried to get out. They didn't like that, and they strapped me down to a table and starting cutting my arms up. They left me for dead but I escaped." NiGHTS explained.
Reala looked at NiGHTS' arms more closely. The intricate markings he'd passed off as tattoos now revealed themselves to be deep cuts, which had only half-healed and still remained intricate, thin scabs.
"I guess you wouldn't know any way else to get home, then." Reala muttered.
"No, I'm sorry. But I'll work day and night on it, I promise. I want to go home as much as you do."
"No, you do not. It iz warfare zere, open warfare, an' without us ze war will only get worze."
"War? War against who?"
"War again' all zat is peazful and good, of courz. 'Oo else but Wizeman would fight for zat?" Jackle said bitterly.
Reala sighed and sat back. The leg of his pants caught on fire, causing him to jerk and spasm until he'd stuck his leg into the dirt like an ostrich's head. NiGHTS laughed uproariously, earning himself a shell to the forehead.
"Ow!"
"I've killed three people today alone, NiGHTS. I'm not in a good mood." Reala snapped. He looked out over the water. "Look, the sun's going down. And goddammit, the tide's coming in. NiGHTS, do you have a place to stay?" He asked, adding the last part slightly reluctantly.
"I do, but I'll have to sneak you past my landlady. She's crazy. You two would definitely set her off."
"Why? What iz wrong wizus?" Jackle asked.
"I dunno. She's just... not all there, is all." NiGHTS got up. "Come on! She likes to roam around the building at this hour, so we gotta hurry if we wanna make it in without her yelling in Italian at us!"
"Italian?" Reala asked.
"It sounds like Italian to me. I don't know, it's some foreign language. Now come on, or do you want to be wet all night?" The way NiGHTS said it caused Reala to suppress a single snicker (which he passed off as a sneeze) behind his hand.
He ran off, with Reala and Jackle in tow. Along the way he stopped and picked up his own skateboard. It was purple and decorated with golden and pink bands, and had a large red diamond shape in the middle. The three skated along the road, not knowing exactly what would be around the next corner.
