Darkness was beginning to fade from his vision. It had been nothing but shadows and frustratingly empty cold in this void. But it was finally lifting. Like a fire fighting for life his eyes started to try to open. And as they did memories came flashing back, as though some cruel god was forcing him to remember what had happened. He hadn't wanted to remember. His only time being defeated. Of course he didn't want to recall those events. But he did. That bastard had killed him. Great. That was just great. So what was going on now?

A slightly cool air blew about him, kicking up a little bit of dust in the process. This all felt too real to be his imagination. With a growl he opened his eyes completely, green orbs snapping wide. Silver hair fell about his face as he looked around, waiting to see if there was anyone else about. How great. It looked like he was alone. And apparently alive. How very grand.

But perhaps this was a good thing.

He laughed to himself as he started to get up, his legs seemingly asleep and barely able to support him. But the laugh kept coming, a slow, maniacal laugh that poured from his vicious smile. He could get his revenge. No one dared to kill him and get away with it. He would get his vengeance on all of them. Oh how he yearned to carve that pitiful little smile off of that foolish Cloud's face. How delightful it would be. After all, it was for Mother as well.

With a slight jolt he realised something. His beloved sword was gone. Sure he still had his shredded clothing, but without the sword things would not go so easy. He growled and looked around for it, his silver hair fluttering in the breeze. He had awoken to find himself in a desert of sorts. Red clay covered the ground and small bits of grass sprouted in a feeble attempt at life. But no sword. He frowned and settled himself down on a boulder, his legs feeling weak again. He hated being in this sort of condition.

Standing at a full five foot nine, a small figure began padding through the sand in boots. Not only were they boots, but they were work boots, and with every step that was taken, the earth beneath it cracked and shattered to reveal layer after layer of dried rock.
The ground here was dead, and it had been long due for rain, but rain never fell. It was always hot and dry, and most of all rocky. There were the few greens plants that had somehow managed to store a reasonable amount of water, but other than the few survivors, the landscape was bare.

"Hey." The moving figure was stopped by a female of a much smaller height. She was, with her head cocked to the side, watching something. Something far off into the distance. The male beside her ceased movement, and with a small grunt, the blond figure looked down at her. "What now?" he asked dully. The girl pursed her lips just a little bit, and her eyes narrowed in at the movement she was beginning to see. "There's someone out there."

The girl was right, there was someone out there, or something anyway. Life was unusually hard to find in the general area, much less something that was literally still alive when they found it.
The female began moving once more first, her mouth in a bit of an o-shape. The male went bounding behind her, chains on his beige, cut off pants jingling as he moved. The two were a genuine color palette of browns, tans, blacks and golds.

The male had on a very dark brown hat that came to a peak at the front of his head, with messy blond hair that stuck out. The only silver thing on his body happened to be earrings, which were crosses; even the chains on his waist were rusty-brown. On his face were freckles and beauty marks, one at one corner of his mouth, another small beauty mark above his right eyebrow (if he was facing you), and another on the side of his neck. It was clear that he spent a great deal of time out in the sun, seeing as how he was extremely tan. It was also quite clear that he worked in the manual labor department, seeing as how his arms were practically bursting with muscles and veins.
He wore a light beige vest around his upper body, which was far more revealing in the front than necessary, with darker beige shorts that ended just at his knees. The chains that rattled together as he walked were rusted, and each had a hook on the very end. They were weapons and even equipment for a fishing job he rarely attended during the hotter months.

The female, when it came to attire, was not dressed much differently. She too had a hat upon her small head. It was black, floppy and rounded, and more than anything, it was more there for decoration. Her hair was gently curly, a verylight brown color, and framed her face by dragging against her bare shoulders. What she wore around her upper half, was a pure white and clean tank top that came up past her belly button. Over it was a clean cut beige vest, which looked very similar to the one which her partner wore. She too was a fair tan color, with beauty marks and the occasional freckle on her face. When she faced anyone, they could see a beauty spot above the right side of her mouth, one right below her left eye.
There was no silver on her body, though, not like his. Instead, she had simple tribal-looking earrings in both ears.
They both shared the same style of shorts which came to their knees, the same walk. It was clear that if they weren't related, their relationship was something very close to it.

"Chrosa!" he snapped, grabbing her arm as she continued moving. She yelped out and recoiled just a little, but said nothing in protest to what he had done. "Be careful, you don't know who that is, or what that is." She understood. Chrosa always understood.
The male began ahead of her this time, having and ever stern look on his face as the two made it to the large boulder. Of course, once they were there, and discovered only a grumpy man, Chrosa was in front of him, a sweet smile on her face already. "Do you need help?" she asked.

(Eh, this post lacks. D; )