Snippet #2313175

Luther

Luther thought about how he despised boredom with a fiery-passion so fierce it could match the sun’s heat whilst waiting for the elimination round to start. He could not ponder for long though, hanging upside-down from one of the rails guarding the hallways overlooking the stadium tended to force the blood to rush into one’s head. Such a position did seem to draw undue attention, but at the same time it could reap brilliant ideas as well. He had not gambled in a long time, well long being a relative term anyways but who really kept track, and an exhilarating bet was a sure-fire way to peak his excitement. Of course the best bets always had the highest stakes and smallest reward…well in his own opinion anyways, there were some who liked to argue on that point but they obviously had not experienced the same level of ecstasy he had whilst gambling.

With a fresh smile splattered across his face the young Royal swung his arms upwards to help launch his torso up and grab onto the railing. Luckily everything in this particular area was lacking any steel-reinforcement, the renovations had not made it this far as of yet, or that particular escapade would have proven doubly-boring and required an even more outrageous bet on his part. He stretched out languorously like a cat, trying to give his body time to readjust to its new position so as to avoid and blood-rushes or possible fainting, for a few moments before proceeding to strap on his sword-belt he had laid down nearby. A whistle, or whatever semblance of a whistle he could ever manage to fashion, burst forth from between puckered lips as the nobleman set forth once again for the King’s booth.

First things first though, and unfortunately that meant checking in with his parents. He couldn’t understand why his father felt so, but the man always insisted upon sending out a battalion to search for him if he disappeared for too long a period of time, probably afraid that Luther might lead a rebellion of joy and spontaneity, that and he wanted to consult his father very quickly, just a mere question to pose that would affect the exact parameters of his bet, Luther hated asking the man for advice in matters such as this, but he wanted to make sure his bets would be taken in the first place. The lanky Royal sauntered into their booth easily, sliding quickly into the chair to the left of his father.

“You needn’t worry dear Father, I’ve been behaving myself as any good lad should, but before I go, I wanted to ask you a quick question.”

His father feigned indifference to his voice until hearing his son speak about a question. This prompted the old man to actually turn his head and look at Luther with a somewhat fixed-gaze, showing Luther that he indeed was curious and open to a discussion, at least a serious one. “Speak up now Luther we haven’t much time before the next round begins.”

“How many of the other contestants do you think the King’s Flawed can take down this year?”

“Making a wager are you?” The tone in his voice marked a lack of surprise, he did not care when his son gambled, and at least it was a somewhat normal activity of which he could approve. “Knowing the King’s history with choosing Flawed and from what I have seen so far today?” He paused here and stroked his beard thoughtfully for a few moments. “At the least three, maybe four. The competition seems rather stiff this year, but I bet the King’s Flawed will pull through, as always.”

“Hmm, I would have to agree with you there. That ‘Metal-Champion’ and the girl with the beads seem to be the strongest of the other contestants. If it wasn’t for the King’s unbelievable luck in these matters I would dare say my choice would fall between those two.”

“The metal-girl seems a bit too brash and untrained, but she does seem to have an overwhelming amount of experience for someone her age. If she can hold her temper, which doesn’t seem quite likely, I think you may have a point. My money would say she gets distracted and taken down when she starts to tire out though. As for the bead-wearing girl… she may have extravagant moves, but all a smart fighter needs to do is wear her down and wait for the right moment.”

“You think so? I’m of the opinion the Metal-Champion is more prepared than that, I don’t know why but I have this sense that her instincts are somewhat above-par when compared to the others. I would agree with you about the one with the beads, but she seems a little too smart to let herself be taken down in such a fashion.”

“I might agree with you, but several of these contestants are trained and experienced in the arena. When too many unknowns are thrown into the grinder all you can really trust is training and experience, and you should know that as well as I do Luther.”

“Oh well, I guess I’ll just keep on dreaming. I must bid you farewell though Father, Mother. I must make haste to make my bets before the next round starts!”

Before they could even begin to respond Luther had already skyrocketed up and out of their booth, his feet hurriedly carrying him towards the King’s Booth. This time he was able to enter much more easily for some odd reason, the guards just kind of let him walk on by without even so much as a, “Halt, heathen!” It was rather strange, but Luther was a person who loved strange more than most.

This time he shortened the formalities to a mere half-bow and a rather gracious, “M’liege,” before approaching the King and kneeling to the man’s right. He kept his tone level and his gaze respectful, a somewhat surprising and uncommon feat of normalcy most would never expect to see from him, as he directed his inquiry upon the King. “King Resdreillhm, sorry to disturb you so close to the commencement of the elimination round, I was wondering if you would care to make a wager with me?” The young royal was displaying seriousness rather uncharacteristic of his known demeanor, he wanted the King to take this bet seriously, even though it was a win-win situation for him, and hoped this show of level-headedness would catch his attention.

The king had just sat down in his seat after his announcement, almost immediately accosted by the presence of Luther. This young fool. This noble would forever be a thorn in the side of nobles, but that much was to be expected. A disgrace to his father, a disgrace to his heritage. Yet, there was a tinge in his voice of seriousness that forced the man to actually bother to take out his time to regard the young royal.

"Speak then," He ordered curtly. While his mood was much lightened by the upcoming matches and the new batch of flawed, Luther was one to always dampen the mood significantly. And if it were not for the status of his father, the king would've had the other killed long ago for his insolence. As it stood, he would stay his blade. For now.~

“I would like to wager that your champion cannot defeat even three of the other competitors. If you win I will sequester myself from Royal Society until you see fit to let me return amongst the Royals. I want nothing in return if I win. You may know that I prefer dangerous bets that would do me no good if I win.”

It was as if Luther had read his mind, for his proposal was so in-line with his thought pattern. King Resdreillhm tilted his gaze back towards the arena, more so as to glance over at his little fallen girl. She was still rigid in her seat with fear but she had not yet voiced any objections, clearly this was not a bet he was going to lose. The man smirked, not turning back to Luther as he spoke to him smoothly. "Always the fool, Luther, making bets when you know the odds are stacked against you. However, I am not an unreasonable man, I will humor you..." He said his last words rather softly, veiling the threat in his words casually. He had no intentions of losing the bet for his champion never lost. This was a pre-determined battle. He chortled to himself, what a buffoon.

A slight grin spread upon the young Royal’s face as the King acquiesced, it seemed like the day’s thrill might not be lost yet. “Please know that I am most gracious for your acceptance m’liege. I wish I could take your advice, but I am but one of those people who does not find pleasure in taking certain bets, we are a rather strange and small portion of society to be sure.” Luther then stood up, bowing respectfully, and made his way over to the beautiful Liandre once again. He bowed respectfully, but refrained from any other overly-flamboyant gestures as before. “I would care to make a wager with you as well Liandre. Please know that it is a win-win situation for you as well.”

Liandre jumped, surprised that she was being approached. She had been fiddling with the mirror she kept in the folds of her vest, fumbling with it now as she hurried to stow it back inside before anyone saw. If Luther had noticed, he made no motions to indicate it and she breathed out, trying to force a smile on her lips. She trembled in her effort, truthfully, she had not been in the mood for smiling recently. She was far too worried about the events that were soon to take place and putting on this whole facade around the king was rather wearing on her... Still, she made herself try and after a bit of doing, her lips finally upturned in a sweet smile with only the faintest edge of hesitation.

"You seem to be in a strange mood... but I-I suppose it would be alright to indulge." Her nervousness got the best of her. She was so unused to all this social contact! Though Luther had been rather harmless earlier so perhaps he wouldn't do anything out of bounds this time...

“I would like to wager that your champion does not make it to be one of the last three competitors in the arena. If I win, I would like to the opportunity to take you out for a day, if you win then you shall never hear from me again.”

She blinked slowly, trying to take in what he had just said. Her stomach had dropped, her eyes widened in the process. Take her... out? What interest did he have in spending time with her? Was there a catch...? No, he had just spent time with her--had she really been that interesting he wanted to speak with her more? They hadn't really said that much though... She shook her head, realizing that she had left him hanging awkwardly and tried to think of a proper response.

"U-Um, well, that is, you see, I..." She fumbled with her words, unsure of how to approach this situation with care. She had never been good at this sort of thing! It was all so unfamiliar... And with the current state of affairs, it seemed she would automatically be slated to lose! Of course Eiurin would not be one of the last three because by that point, there wouldn't be any of them left in the first place... At least not here, in Isallia... Wait, did he know about that? No, there was no way he could've... She tried to keep her face straight and at last murmured out her decision.

"I... I suppose..." Her small voice came out, the girl unable to decline his offer. She had been raised to always be polite and her instincts took over. And Luther really wasn't all that bad, she just couldn't figure out why he wanted to pass time with her. Oh well, part of the mystery of the young noble, she supposed.

Luther did not let the smile beaming inside the depths of his soul display more on his face than a mere smirk and twinkle in his eye. This would certainly be a most exhilarating of elimination rounds, and he could not wait to see the outcome of this potentially momentous day. There was a conundrum though, what if he lost his bet to the King and won against Liandre? He certainly could not be able to take her out for a day if that should happen... if he had been a more traditional fellow he might have been a bit more cautious and worried than at the moment. What would be the fun of that? He proceeded to sit down in the next available seat, about three down from the Princess and many from the King, but his enthusiasm for the next round did naught but strengthen.