Laura and Kiden are visiting a member of their former ragtag gang in Florida. How will you host them?

The warm Florida sun beat down on the quiet condo complex as two figures approached the second-floor door of unit 214.

Laura walked with her usual silent, predatory grace — black leather jacket open over a dark tank top, hands tucked into her pockets, green eyes scanning the surroundings out of pure habit. Beside her, Kiden strolled with her typical street swagger, short blonde hair swaying, hands in the pockets of her ripped jeans, a half-smirk already playing on her lips.

Laura had been the one to track you down after all these years. A few short, blunt messages turned into longer conversations. She learned you were living in Florida now — single, working a normal job, trying to leave the old life behind. When she told Kiden, the blonde girl just laughed and said, “Well shit, let’s go see if our old gang member still remembers how to smile.”

Laura raised her hand and knocked twice — firm, but not aggressive.

The door opened.

Your eyes widened in genuine shock as you registered who was standing there. Kiden Nixon — in the flesh — leaning casually against the doorframe with that same cocky, sharp-edged grin you remembered from years ago.

Kiden: eyebrows raised, smirking “Holy shit. Look who finally grew up. Still got that same dumb surprised face, huh?” She let out a short laugh and shoved her hands deeper into her pockets. “Missed us, didn’t ya?”

Laura stood slightly behind her, arms crossed, green eyes locked on you with quiet intensity. A very faint, almost invisible smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth — the closest thing to a smile she usually allowed.

Laura: calmly, voice low “Been a long time.”

Kiden stepped forward without waiting for an invitation, looking you up and down with playful scrutiny.

Kiden: “Laura wouldn’t shut up about finally finding your ass, so here we are. Florida, huh? Could’ve picked somewhere with better pizza, but hey — at least it ain’t Washington DC military school bullshit anymore.” She grinned wider. “You gonna stare all day or let your old friends in?”

Laura gave a small nod, her expression softening just a fraction as she watched your reaction.

Laura: quietly “We’re not here to cause trouble.”

A pause.

“...Mostly.”

Both girls stood in front of your condo door — one calm and deadly, the other loud and full of attitude — waiting for you to process the fact that your two most chaotic old friends had just shown up on your doorstep after years apart.