Out for a Cuppa Joe | Traverse Town . First District . Café [ Complete ]
The Third District was considered to be the most dangerous, but that never stopped Leon from using it to get to the First District. He'd lived in Traverse Town long enough that the gradual increase of powerful Heartless in recent years no longer posed a challenge for him. Wyverns and Defenders were the strongest variations that Traverse provided, and those were easy pickings for him now, even when they appeared in unreasonable numbers. It was satisfying to know that his strength had increased, but he knew he couldn't let it get to his head. The last thing he needed was to grow complacent. A month in a busted gummi ship had shown him that and then some.
Zell mentioned a trip to the Coliseum with Cloud, he thought as he strode across the Third District, no longer bothering to consider the flickering neon lights that were ready to give out at any moment. I should go. I could use the training.
Yes. He could certainly use the training, but the thought of heading back to the Coliseum after his last trip there left a bad taste in his mouth that had little to do with his hangover. It was the first time in his life that Leon had ever known such a humiliating defeat. He needed to redeem himself in his own eyes first before he could go back and show his face to that blindfolded man, whoever he'd been.
Besides, he didn't have a ride, and he would sooner endure another hangover than warp through interspace with Zell. He was glad to see Zell, but he didn't have the patience to put up with his shadowboxing and incessant chatter just yet. There were too many painful subjects the blond could potentially touch upon, and Leon figured that he wasn't quite ready to deal with those anytime soon. Better if he never had to, but his former comrades had always had a knack for worming information out of him when he least wanted it.
Leon reached the doors to the First District without mishap, which suited him fine. The Heartless were probably keeping a low profile for now after that recent battle. Either that, or they were far more drawn to the pull of the Keyblade than that of his own heart. What a lovely thought.
Once the heavy doors had fallen shut behind him, Leon made his way to the café, wincing inwardly at the feel of slush beneath his boots. Damn snow. The sharp chill wasn't helping either, and again he shook his head as he recalled the way those Islanders girls had been dressed. Unbelievable. He stepped into the café, feeling the pleasant shock of warmth after a short walk in the cold. The smell of warm beverages was tantalizing, and he was glad that he had managed to save up enough munny from his journey for this small luxury.
The waitress raised her brow at him in greeting. Leon said nothing, choosing to sit at a table rather than the bar, and reached into his pocket for his journal. When the waitress finally came down, he asked for a coffee. She came back several minutes later with a steaming up of dark, rich coffee, sugar and creamer. "Hitting the hard stuff tonight, Leon?" she asked, winking.
Leon scowled. The waitress, used to her patron's taciturn ways, smiled and shrugged, resuming whatever task she'd been involved in before he arrived. Leon, in the meantime, added sugar and cream so that it was pleasantly bittersweet and took a sip, hoping it did the trick to clear his mind while he added his second entry.
Zell mentioned a trip to the Coliseum with Cloud, he thought as he strode across the Third District, no longer bothering to consider the flickering neon lights that were ready to give out at any moment. I should go. I could use the training.
Yes. He could certainly use the training, but the thought of heading back to the Coliseum after his last trip there left a bad taste in his mouth that had little to do with his hangover. It was the first time in his life that Leon had ever known such a humiliating defeat. He needed to redeem himself in his own eyes first before he could go back and show his face to that blindfolded man, whoever he'd been.
Besides, he didn't have a ride, and he would sooner endure another hangover than warp through interspace with Zell. He was glad to see Zell, but he didn't have the patience to put up with his shadowboxing and incessant chatter just yet. There were too many painful subjects the blond could potentially touch upon, and Leon figured that he wasn't quite ready to deal with those anytime soon. Better if he never had to, but his former comrades had always had a knack for worming information out of him when he least wanted it.
Leon reached the doors to the First District without mishap, which suited him fine. The Heartless were probably keeping a low profile for now after that recent battle. Either that, or they were far more drawn to the pull of the Keyblade than that of his own heart. What a lovely thought.
Once the heavy doors had fallen shut behind him, Leon made his way to the café, wincing inwardly at the feel of slush beneath his boots. Damn snow. The sharp chill wasn't helping either, and again he shook his head as he recalled the way those Islanders girls had been dressed. Unbelievable. He stepped into the café, feeling the pleasant shock of warmth after a short walk in the cold. The smell of warm beverages was tantalizing, and he was glad that he had managed to save up enough munny from his journey for this small luxury.
The waitress raised her brow at him in greeting. Leon said nothing, choosing to sit at a table rather than the bar, and reached into his pocket for his journal. When the waitress finally came down, he asked for a coffee. She came back several minutes later with a steaming up of dark, rich coffee, sugar and creamer. "Hitting the hard stuff tonight, Leon?" she asked, winking.
Leon scowled. The waitress, used to her patron's taciturn ways, smiled and shrugged, resuming whatever task she'd been involved in before he arrived. Leon, in the meantime, added sugar and cream so that it was pleasantly bittersweet and took a sip, hoping it did the trick to clear his mind while he added his second entry.