Near the Lighthouse, Wednesday, After Dark

Rikku balanced on the edge of a boulder. The water here wasn't very deep -- a couple feet, at best -- and the rocks jutted out like craggy molars scattered across the shoreline. Tiny votive candles floated along the surface, giving a soft glow to the growing darkness.

She was trying out new weapons today -- two matching sleek daggers, with circular handles at the base. Bright red, because it gave them a nice zing. They weren't nearly as kickass as her Godhand, but her Godhand was built to chew someone up and spit them out again. Which meant it was a great weapon for killing fiends, but not so great for a friendly spar.

She steadied herself and waited. They hadn't done this in ages.

(for Reno, for great SP fighty justice.)