First Heavy Snow

Cobalt was strolling along the freshly cleared of snow sidewalks, gloved hands stuffed into the pockets of a puffy fluff-lined winter parka. He had a scarf wrapped around his neck, covering his mouth and nose. The tails of the scarf were tucked away into his coat, and he had the hood up. His nose was red from being bitten with the cold. He tilted his head up and let out a breath, blowing "smoke" into the air. He smiled slightly and then tucked his nose under the edge of his scarf again.

He was walking past the park, and he glanced over, seeing the various park keepers working hard to shovel the snow. He paused and stood on the sidewalk, watching quietly. He shivered a bit as he slightly kicked at the snow under his feet. He looked up again and saw a familiar floating creature shoveling dutifully, but Craith seemed a tad bummed out. So Cobalt stepped into the deep snow, treading through the frozen stuff and walking over to the white-haired Nightmare.

"Yo, Craith," Cobalt called out, waving up at at the floating creature. "You look kinda down."

The worm just kept his hands in his pockets and looked up at Craith, nodding in agreement at the "not the most exciting task to do" part. Cobalt had shoveled many a feet of snow in his life, so he knew full well how much of a drag the job was. He also knew that Craith hadn't given him the true answer to his question, but he figured it was probably a touchy subject, so he decided better than to prod at it any more.

"Chess?" Cobalt piqued, raising his eyebrows and glancing to the aforementioned tables which were topped with large piles of smooth and sparkly snow. "I suck at chess, man. I only ever learned how to play it one time." He chuckled slightly and shivered in his boots, glancing around. "We can walk and talk while you shovel, though." He said as he saw one of the other park employees giving Craith a look. Cobalt began to walk along the path the Nightmare was clearing.

"So what have you been up to other than cleaning the snow out of the park?" he asked, hoping to start some sort of casual conversation. Maybe Craith's mind would be taken off of whatever had gotten him down if only for a little while.

Nobody paid any mind to a small group of three Trojans standing under on the streetlights that lined the edge of the park.

A small smile appeared on Craith's face. Most people take up Craith's offer of chess and wait it out, often leaving before he finished his work. Either this guy was feeling extra chatty, or Craith bumped into a good conversation today. One can never really know for sure.

An inquiry was made out what else Craith had been doing recently. "What haven't I been doing?" Craith asked, rhetorically. "Light, garland, anything up high. Decorating this past week has been intense. I'm really glad the snow didn't get too seriously till today." He let his feet onto the ground again and pushed his shovel forward more, remembering he shouldn't just continue slacking off. "Though with the decorations up and snow settling in, there's less to take care of. Park work is pretty slow till spring, except for this damn snow."

Giving the snow a big heave ho to the side, Craith turned to face his casual conversator and said, "Why don't you share a little about yourself?" But before Craith could wait for a response, he saw a group of Trojans begin approaching the pair. Maybe Craith's luck with people wasn't as good as he had hoped. This couldn't be pretty.

Within an instant Craith was pushed out of the way by one of the Trojans. They clearly were interested in the other guy. The falling sensation naturally brought Craith to phase through the ground, rather than hit it. He took a moment to balance himself out and stuck his head slightly out of the ground.

The Trojans had chased the nice guy deeper into the park, but not too far. This was a grave mistake. Craith floated at them as quick as possible. Even when distressed, Craith was not able to float any faster than the average person running. When he did catch up to them, there was only really one thing he could do. It was the best option in a situation like this.

Craith leaped out of the ground and grabbed the legs of two of the Trojans. He pulled them into the ground and released them, leaving them stuck at least four feet in the ground. The two Trojans shouting in distress was more than enough to alert the third Trojan, still having his was with the young guy. Craith floated up out the ground to completely reveal himself. He threw a punch at Craith, only to watch it go through him.

"It would turn out that you guys would be this ill prepared for me. You seem to not know the unspoken rule of this park." Craith said this, looking down at the two in the ground, with his natural shadowy outline growing. He looked up at the lone Trojan as he dropped his target and said, "You mess around in the park, you have to deal with me." In that one stare was the true form of a nightmare. Craith never showed such a form, but would let his eyes show it when needed. "I would recommend you get a shovel. Your buddies aren't just gonna crawl out."

As to Trojan left and the two in the ground remained silent, Craith returned to his more typical, barely nightmare-ish appearance, and checked out the damage. It was only a bloody nose. Craith held out his hand and said, "I don't believe we were properly introduced to each other. My name is Craith. And your name is?"

((I am completely aware that Craith literally just had a moment of badassary. I am going to use this as a counter weight later, as to give him some bad luck. Obviously he won't always be able to just drop two guys to the ground and scare another off. I'll probably have his bad luck relate to whatever more I have him incapable of making intangible.))

Poor Cobalt was pretty upset by these recent happenings, and he didn't even realize that the Nightmare had saved him until he had been dropped onto the ground again and everything was silent. He slowly sat up, wiping his nose on the back of his glove and frowning as he saw the stain. Luckily the gloves are washable. He knew he probably smeared light purple onto his cheek a bit, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

He looked up at Craith and took the extended hand, pulling himself up with a sigh and a rather discontent look. He sniffled and lightly wiped his nose again. The damn thing was bleeding like a waterfall!

"Cobalt," he said, introducing himself. He was quiet for a second, and he glanced down at the two thugs stuck in the ground before looking up at Craith again.
"... Thanks," he said quietly. "For saving me." He then sighed and looked at the other approaching figure. Naturally, he was a bit skittish now, and he inched over to be behind the Nightmare, staring at the unknown creature apprehensively.

So his name was Cobalt. Shouldn't be too hard to mix up, since at least one of his eyes could be described that way. He seemed less hurt and more embarrassed by the bleeding. Or maybe it was that he had to be saved. People don't always like it when others have to get them out of their problems. Not like Craith had much of a choice.

Interruptions seemed to be a constant today. Before Craith could take pride in his accomplishment, another Trojan approached the duo from behind, but without ill intent. He turned around to face this enigma.

"He should be fine. I could take a closer look, but it doesn't seem like they were able to do much. I doubt you'll get much out of him right now, though." Craith replied for Cobalt and looked back at him a bit. "A shame I couldn't have reacted sooner. We don't get many Trojans in groups like that at the park. Normally only two meeting to discuss plans or a few with their families. I should have noticed them sooner."

Craith really did feel some responsibility for those Trojans reaching Cobalt. He made it his duty to protect the park's peaceful attitude. Hopefully the Trojans would learn a lesson from Craith's defense of park visitors, but he wasn't too sure. And whoever this new guy was, he sure didn't look familiar.

The Watcher was about to respond to Redhood, but as he was in the middle of his first syllable, he was interrupted by the teen's exclamation at something behind him. He turned to look. Arroz was back behind him! Dammit, lost focus again! And this time it looked like it might cost him. The Watcher's left arm sparked with a white energy just as he lifted it up in front of him to prepare his defense, but...nothing seemed to be happening? Arroz was standing there, hand in his suit, looking as if he was about to pull out a firearm, but he was stationary. Well, except for his face, which was contorting in expressions of severe annoyance. Was his hand stuck on something?

Bah. No time to ponder the issue, he figured. He took the opportunity to sprint as fast as he could at the Trojan, preparing to tackle him down. As he cleared half the distance to him, however, whatever had Arroz's hand trapped must have released him, as he finally managed to pull a sleek black revolver out of his suit and pointed it right at his assailant. The Watcher yelled out in a panic, and suddenly he momentarily appeared to blip out of existence. A split-second later, he popped back up right in front of Arroz. He stopped his sprint, now crouched low to the ground, gave a confident smirk, and then popped into the air, giving Arroz a nasty knee to the gut on the way up, sending him flying back on his ass a few feet away.

The Watcher then calmly strode over to the winded mafioso on the ground, whose weapon now laid several feet off to the side. He stepped up onto the Trojan's chest--which must have caught him by surprise, as it seemed to discombobulate him further--then he crouched down on his chest, getting right in his face and grabbed him by the hair.

"Now, then. Arroz, yeah? Good to meet ya. Care to explain why you're strolling into parks to beat on kids? You some kinda freak?" He maintained his smirk, though it was mixed with something of a cold disconnectedness to his overall demeanor.

Then he heard the sirens. "Augh...damn it. Feds...", he snarled, looking up in their general direction. "Hrm. You got lucky this time." He glared back at Arroz, got up, stepped off of him and walked over to the side to rest his foot on the revolver. "I'd tell you to remember my face, but I'm sure you've got a lot bouncing around up there already..." He tapped his head with his finger a couple times for emphasis.

Arroz started to stir a bit. "Not one move, asshole.", the Watcher thrusted his right hand out toward Arroz, a flash of white emanated from his palm, and next thing anyone knew, he was gripping a katana that appeared to be made of nothing more than pure, shimmering light. He pointed the tip right at Arroz's throat. He would keep him pinned like this until the police arrived on the scene.