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The boy, still smiling and paying no attention to where he was going, then crashed into one very shocked bounty hunter. “Ahh…Thrash?” the boy squeezed out the words, with seemingly some difficulty. “Er…sorry for stealing your thunder back there…I hope you’re not mad…?”

Thrash simply stared, then “No, it’s fine.”

“Uh…ah…” The blue-hair stuttered. “I…my name is Drakuvyuuki. You can call me Drakvyuu, or just Drak.”

“…right.” Said thrash. Another nervous fan. Great, just what he wanted. He turned and walked away, ignoring Drak. He had food to get.

~ ~ ~

It was late, though a being of the light would not be able to tell, as day and night were one in the same in this world, DrakuNenken, the land of eternal night.

Most Drakens would be asleep, but there was one certain silver-haired boy who sat awake, picking his way through the pages of an old, yellowing book, which he read by the moonlight. The light made his skin seem to glow, giving him an unearthly beauty that would make anyone who saw it crave him. To add to the appearance, his silver hair hung loose just past his shoulders, and he wore a dark indigo robe, which seemed to have small stars glittering on it when hit by the light.

This was, of course, Thrash. He peered at the musty pages, at the strange and ancient characters printed so neatly in a fading black ink, written long ago. Next to him, on the desk, was a stack of white papers with his own handwriting scrawled across them. He appeared to be doing some sort of translation.

((Gaaah. it was tough to find a decent place to end this entry. I had to stop there, otherwise I would have ended up posting the entire rest of what I've typed.))

((Still picking out bugs.))