Snippet #2307775

Orfhlaith was allowing herself to be dragged to the Royal watching booth again. She mentally sighed. She was rather hoping that telling Eiurin to go right would fix the visions. But apparently, the fates still hadn't gotten over the fact that she could mess up their plans.

Damn PMSing fates.

But her skin crawled as the King had a tight grip on her wrist. Her left hand grabbed at the material of her skirt in frantic gestures. She wanted to tell it to stop but that would just grab the king's attention. So instead she tried to pull her hand out of his grasp.

"I can walk myself, you know, sir. I do know where the booth is." The redhead grumbled, her tone as monotone as ever, her red eye betraying her distaste. Despite the King's attempts of getting rid of her attitude, some things wouldn't change no matter how much drugs you used. The seer may have understood the control the King had over her but that didn't mean she had to just accept it all the time. She hoped.

The king, of course, was not amused in the slightest by her antics and replaced his casual stare with a more firm look. Yet his little flawed was not nearly so intimidated, showing her displeasure quite clearly. "Walk yourself...?" He said smoothly, in a voice coated with veiled threats and unstated cruelty. "If you can make all the steps all on your own.... dove." He let her out of his grasp, let her try to walk on her own. He knew better than anyone else that her system could not fight off the drugs forever. But he'd give her that "freedom" that she desired. She and he both knew it would not last for long.

The two walked in silence, as if both waiting for the moment that she would falter. She was a strong one, he would give her that, but stupid, despite her ability to see all the paths on the time stream. Yet still so delicious...

Orfhlaith winced as her red boots caught on the stairs again. Depth perception was not her strong point but she would not let this monster drag her around like some doll, like one of his whores. She set her face and carried on walking, head held high and unfaltering. Until she tripped over the King's out stretched foot.

The overseer knew it was coming but couldn't stop in time. Even if she had managed to avoid him, she had seen the possible outcomes. All of which were...slightly more unpleasant. The King never did like it when she saw his actions. She fell down, hitting her face on the higher steps. A tiny pained gasp fell from her lips as her forehead bled down her face, blinding her with red. She looked back up at the King, unable to mask all of her fear as she wiped the coppery substance away.

The man was unpredictable at best and he could have a few reactions to this. Not many were all that great from her point of view. And being locked up again was something she strived to avoid. Especially as the advisor did like to come and mock her.

So was so precious, laying upon the floor like that like some wounded puppet. He did enjoy her best when she was sniveling and trembling in fear. He extended out a gloved hand for her to take, a maclious smile on his face. "Care for some help, dear?" He asked. He did not have to wait for a response from her, grabbing her hand and pulling her up on to her feet. He pulled her towards the elevator in a swift stride, not wishing to waste any more idle time merely wandering the hallways. He had death matches to oversee, today was not a day to be tottering around with no sense of purpose.

He pushed her into elevator, though she did not bang against any of the walls, he made sure the force of his push was just enough to tell her not to get any smart ideas. He inserted his master key into the slot, taking them back up to the top floor where they had come from. Grabbing her once more, he led her to the booth--guards moving to either side of the hallway to make room for him. One of the guards posted outside the booth door hurried to open it in time, the king striding into the area without so much as a look at the one who had accomodated him. Servants were nothing, wastes of space only meant to do menial labor at best.

He sat down in his chair, catching the sight of Liandre, who tensed up the moment she saw him. That flutter of a half-smile on her lips told him her discomfort and the warm smile he gave her only worked to increase it. Foolish princess. He smirked to himself as he turned from her, pointing to the seat next to him.

"Be seated. Quivering in the corner doesn't suit you," He commanded to his little flawed.

Orfhlaith bit her lips as she sat down, blood still leaking from her head. She didn't worry about the Royals raising any eyebrows or asking questions. She had been seen around the palace with worse before. The redhead sat uncomfortably, eye never settling. She spotted the princess staring at the King and shifted anxiously. This had better work or else... The "or else" didn't bear thinking about, the consequences were dire.

She swiped at her cut again, frowning at the blood that now coated her hands. The monster beside her was unlikely to let her go clean it off after her little side journey. She let out a shaky breath as she reshuffled her visions again. The rest of the flawed were in the mass pen. Good, good. It was going to plan so far. The overseer nodded to herself, relief showing clearly. The King must have caught her expression as he leaned closer, giving her a look that made her inwardly flinch. This was important, this was the part were her visions played a big part. She had to know for sure (even though she had said to him it was impossible to know exactly...) what was going to happen. This was the part of the Battle Royale in which her neck was most on the line. Orfhlaith met the King's gaze with a stubborn look in her eye. She would not show her fear to this disgusting individual. Because that would mean he was closer to winning.

She was always so stubborn, oh he liked that, he liked that in her... Heh. He gave her a crooked smile, both of them knew precisely what he was thinking and he was making it no secret to her at all. Raising one of his hands, he brought his focus back upon the arena.

"Raise the alarms--the people have been kept waiting long enough." One of the assistants nearby gave a shaky nod and ran off to the side, pressing a switch on the far panel. A loud sound rang from all around the area, seeming to come from all directions simultaneously. The noise was loud, blaring, and a sound everyone knew well. The royals in the crowd cheered, rising up from their seats in eager anticipation. The alarm had gone off--the matches were about to begin...!

Four large pillars rose from the ground, each at one end of the enormous colloseum that housed The Battle Royale. They raised several hundred feet, radiating off steam and energy to high degrees. Each pillar began to shake and released a beam that connected to the other in a crisscross pattern high in the sky. When all the lines had joined with one another, a dome began to appear out of thin air, wrapping around the entirety of the arena. When these energy fields reached the ground, the alarms ceased their blaring. The barrier had been set.

This was always the best part of the tournament, in his opinion. The barrier was made so that none of the flawed could escape the arena, if they dared. The energy field would secure them inside and the only way to disable it was to strike all four pillars at a hidden spot all at the same time. He had assigned this task to four of his advisors, all of whom would be killed anyway after this whole thing was over. Couldn't let that little secret get out, now could he?

He stood up from his seat, grabbing a microphone from a nearby servant and speaking in his low voice. "Citizens of Isallia, we now move into the Elimination Matches! Do not forget, there can only be one winner..." He trailed off, oh, the viciousness. He was going to be looking forward to it.

Orfhlaith bit her lip hard. This better work or she would not be a happy little flawed for the next couple of months. She spotted the King's flawed and hoped upon hope that it survived long enough. If not...the redhead dashed that thought away. That flawed had better last long enough, for both of their sakes.