While her anger with Holy might have abated, it had not with Honoria. And Enya happened to think, as the woman came back onto the scene, that Honoria was either quite bold in approaching Enya so soon after Enya had nearly caught her ass on fire, or really stupid because she didn’t sense the danger she was in. Of course, Enya wouldn’t actually kill the woman. That would make Holy angry with her. Very angry. And she never liked it or wanted Holy to be angry with her.

When Honoria chose to ignore Enya, Enya decided to display the same courtesy, even when she gave Enya a look that said she thought she was better than her, or perhaps, more suited for Holy. Hm. Enya didn’t think so. Her eyes narrowed as she stood up to trail after Holy and the woman. As she was following so close, she could hear every word the two were saying, but Enya didn’t comment. Holy was more than capable of taking care of himself. She would ask him later what exactly was going on. Why he was here, why she was there (well, she sort of understood that actually), and what all these ‘fights’ were about.

“Yes, I could die....”

That caught her attention more than anything else. Holy dying? Seriously? Impossible. He was invincible…right? Enya’s brows knitted as worry clenched at her stomach. Holy wouldn’t say something like that if he hadn’t all ready considered the idea that he could lose his life. She swallowed. She wouldn’t like that very much. Oh no. Not at all.

When Honoria stopped on the stairs, watching Holy continue forward, Enya passed by her. For one moment, she put this new found fear off to the side and gave Honoria a cocky smile before quickly hurrying up the rest of the steps and following after Holy as he made his way, presumably, to his bed. She was allowed to do that, you see. Close friend, and all that stuff.

The bedroom door swung open as Holy sluggishly walked in and over to his bed. He had left the door open because he knew Enya was right behind him. Collapsing across the mattress upon his belly, he moaned into the sheets, his face buried within them before rolling over onto his back. “I am so sleepy” he muttered and released the pamphlet to let it fall to the floor. The soldier was growing lazy. He was becoming less and less punctual. “I don’t know why I’m here. I was just abducted or something” he complained. Yawning, he turned his head to the side and mumbled, “I just want it all to be over.”

Enya stepped into Holy’s room and didn’t bother looking around. Holy was usually very messy, and when she walked in on his mess she always wanted to clean it. She wouldn’t be doing that this time. She still had too many questions to ask. She shut the door she’d just come through, and when she turned back around she wasn’t surprised to find Holy lying in his bed. Moving across the room, she bent and picked up the pamphlet he’d just dropped, and then sat down on the edge of his bed next to him. Opening the leaflet, she examined it curiously. “Holy,” she finally spoke, “I don’t understand what’s going on. Out there, on the stairs, I heard you mention something about dying.” She looked over at him, smiling, because she couldn’t frown. Frowning would be admitting that he might be alluding to something else other than what she was about to suggest, “You were joking, right? Just…trying to put on a show or something for that woman?”

Holy opened his eyes and looked over at Enya as she took a seat. "I am in a tournament. I have been fighting my way out of here since the beginning, and I have reached the semi-finals. In your hand is my opponent. I just said I could die because death is always a possibility, but here death and victory are the same. Either way, they both mean home."

"This is a custom dimension Enya. It isn't real. It's artificial for the sole purpose of throwing this tournament and nothing else. I'm not really worried. I'm just having fun." He closed his eyes and nuzzled his cheek into the blankets. "I'm just sleepy," he yawned again.

She looked down at the pamphlet and then back to Holy again, “I see…” she whispered. So it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t really die. She sighed. That took quite the burden off her shoulders. Because she didn’t know what she would do if he…. Well, there was no reason to think about it since it wasn’t going to happen. Ever.

She looked away from the paper and to Holy again. She smiled and reached out, brushing his hair aside, as she’d always had a tendency to do, “Of course you are,” she said lightly, “If you aren’t tired, then you’re hungry.” She chuckled, “But if it’s really been as hard as you say it has been…then I understand even more so. Go to sleep, Holy. I’m sure that woman will come and wake you when you need to do,” she looked at the leaflet, “what you need to do.”

Feeling Enya's hand comb through his hair, he grasped it gently and held it against his cheek. It would look like he died for to die here was to be dead to the dimension, but he would simply revert back to his consciousness in their original reality. After thinking about it, it did sound ridiculous for there to be a tournament that abducts fighters for the sole purpose of seeing who will win. It didn't save his reality from the demons that threatened to twist it, but at least there was free food.

Breathing deeply through his nostrils, he released Enya's hand and rolled over onto his side. "I wonder if I can take...food...back with...me" he mummbled groggily and dozed off.

Food. Always with the food. He had to ruin a perfectly sweet moment with food-talk. What was wrong with this man? She tried to glare at him, but failed miserably, so she smiled instead. He was asleep before she could reply. Not that she had anything in particular that she wanted to say to him…except for the usual. Letting out a sigh, she brought her legs up into the bed and stretched out beside him. With him sleeping, it was easy for Enya to quickly unwind and do the same. For, it was only when with him that she felt safe enough to do so.

As the last day arrived, Honoria passed through the hallway like a whirlwind. The curls she usually pinned behind her head or on top bounced about her shoulders. The expression on her face was a mixture between porcelain and stone—smooth with feminine beauty yet hard with resolve. When she reached Holy’s room door, she jabbed the key into the lock and pushed open the door to see him tangled in his sheets and blankets and curled up with a pillow. Next to him was that tramp. Frowning, Honoria stepped further in and stopped before the door with her hands on her hips. She inspected his shape as he slept. He was back to brawn but she couldn’t help but wonder where that gut went…or did she want to know?

Suddenly to Honoria’s disgust, her thoughts were interrupted by a loud, prolonged fart from that man she had been marveling. Her hands clapped over her face and she fled away from the bed to stand within the doorway. Stirring, Holy spoke drowsily, “Damn…I thought that was a dream.” Smiling sleepily, he rolled over and embraced Enya, trapping her with his stink. “Oh Enya” he moaned jokingly.

The strong aroma of flowers and chemicals abruptly assaulted with a shower. Honoria had ran down the hall to grab on aerosol spray and flailed it about the bed. “You are so disgusting! Get out of bed and go shower ‘now.’ You are starting the fight.”

Coughing, Holy grabbed a pillow and pressed it to his face. That spray was strong. “Why do I have to start it off?” he complained. “I never had to start off any of my matches until now.”

With her hand that wasn’t holding the spray, she held her shirt over her nose and shouted, “Because the tournament says you do!”

Holy arched a brow. “You know what I got to say to that?” Leaning to one cheek, he forced out another obnoxious flatulence that had Honoria attack him with more anti-bacterial.

“Will you stop?” Honoria roared, and then angrily threw the can at him.

The soldier was weak with laughter and fled the bed coughing. “Ugh, Enya, you better leave. She made the smell worse.”

Honoria placed her hands upon Holy’s chest to stop him. With a sharp finger, she pointed to the pamphlet over by the bed, “Go get my folder!”

Holy grinned and wrapped his arm around her, and then commenced dragging her over to the funky bed. “Let’s get it together!”

“No! Ew!” Squirming, she began to panic the closer they got to the bed until she felt this matter was getting out of hand. With her fingers curved like claws, she thrust her hand right between Holy’s legs. The blond instantly froze with eyes wider than a frightened cat and his spine bending submissively. “No, bad!” Honoria scolded and led him over to the bathroom and released him at the doorway. With a mighty kick to his rear, she sent him stumbling into the tub and slammed the door behind him [Whoopish!].

Glancing at Enya, Honoria just walked out with a mistress’s smile. “I’ll get my folder later” she grumbled softly.

Enya woke up at the sound of the key turning in the lock, but she didn’t open her eyes. She figured it was that woman, and she didn’t much feel like making herself sick at the sight of Honoria. Honestly, what a stupid name. Next to her, the air was suddenly rent with the sound of Holy farting. Enya sighed. Dear God. She turned her head into the pillow and tried to filter the horrid scent, but then Holy was wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close, away from the pillow. She immediately started to breathe out of her mouth, which meant, when Honoria came back with the aerosol can, Enya got a huge mouthful of it. She coughed, and started licking at the roof of her mouth like a dog with peanut butter as her nose scrunched up in disgust.

She felt Holy shift next to her, and he farted again. She rolled her eyes as she sat up and then grabbed the pillow, pressing it to her face. As she peeked over the top of the pillow the can went flying toward Holy and Enya had to lean to the side to keep the thing from hitting her since he had fled. She glared over at Honoria: stupid woman. Enya’s eyes narrowed as the woman ordered Holy about. Just who did she think she was, anyway? Enya had half a mind to stand up and slap her silly. She couldn’t talk to Holy like that, and she most certainly couldn’t do that!

Enya’s eyes widened and she tossed the pillow aside and came out of the bed so quickly her movement was a blur. “Hey!” she yelled after the retreating woman. Now Enya’s hands were on her hips as she glared across the room, “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing? You ever touch him like that again, and I really will set your ass on fire!”

After his shower, Holy stepped out, pulling at the collar of his coat and inspected the sleeves. It was still torn from his last bout with the holy warrior. Usually, his attire would mend itself and his only explanation for why it didn't was because of the dimension he was in. 'Strict rules' he thought, and shrugging his shoulders, he walked back over to his bed and took a seat. "I'm about to leave to my fight," he told Enya. "I honestly don't know how this is going to go, but whatever happens I'll see you either way."

Smiling, he ran a hand back through his blond hair and shook his head. "The priest and monk won't believe this story" he said with a chuckle.

“They’ll believe it because I was here to see it,” she shrugged, “Besides, you don’t usually lie, anyway.” She went back to the bed and sat down next to him. She looked up into his face, and that fear gripped her again. It didn’t matter that he’d told her it didn’t truly make a difference whether he lived or died here. There was still the fact that it could happen, and that chilled her to the bone.

She reached out and touched the side of his face, “You know I think you’re invincible, right?” She leaned forward, “Don’t let me down, hm?” She gave him a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, and then pulled away, smiling, “Well, go get ‘em, Tiger.”

Closing his eyes as Enya laid a kiss on him, he smiled and rose from the bed. "I'll try not to let you down" he assured her, reaching out to hold her cheek in his hand, which was his way of showing his intimacy. "Do not worry about me too much." Letting his hand, gently slide from her face to loll at his side, he faced the door and headed out.

So he had viewed his tank of an opponent come and then leave, he knew who he was because it was the same mouthy guy that had stood up in his chair and prematurely declared victory of each and every technocrat in this tournament - Katana kind of mused when he saw that the mouthy one was the only techie left on the scoreboard. And oddly enough, he's their... general? Well shit, this guy's the big dog. Can't really get much more retarded than that last dudes gun, but hey, I might as well be prepared, cause this guy'll probably be just as ridiculous... Now that I think of it, actually, ole one-eye looked like he was carrying the entire technocrat arsenal on his body with that weird armor or whatever it was. Well shit, that just means more guns. BLAH, this is not my favored style o'fightin', but hey, let em wave around his guns, he'll figure out just how much it'll do - just like the last dude. Katana finished off the alcohol just as the next matches were called out.

No use rushing head-long, might as well grab another drink. "OI, bartend, can I get another drink but this time..." he slipped a piece of paper with a wolfish smile "Make it my brand." The bartend scurried off as Katana had seen most of the other contenders already emptied the room, and even participants that were just grabbing a drink moved back to the arenas where they saw the match most fit to their entertainment. The bartend came back with a shot of the alcohol mentioning how it didn't see how anyone could possibly drink such a horrible blend - and he was right, this blend would literally burn the outlines of your esophagus, but Katana had sorta built up an immunity to it. I mean, at first it had kinda fucked up his stomach real nasty-like, but now it didn't bother him too much... USUALLY. He would have taken it with him, however he was pretty sure that the tournament officials prevented open-container that and both his gourd and flask were destroyed in the past few matches so he had nothing to put it in.

So he downed it. He downed it real fast and it burned real good. "Damn! That's some crazy shit there; it'll grow hair on your teeth." He slams the shotglass down, pounding it a little on the counter "Bartend - hit me again!" the bartender took his empty shotglass and disappeared somewhere in the back leaving katana twiddling with his thumbs. If he prefers the use of guns then it's obvious that he'd prefer ranged combat and there's not all that much terrain left in my arena, and judging by the looks of him not in his either so i'm probably going to have to go all out on my run or maybe just keep the battle as close as possible. With all that gear he's gotta be slower than me, it's gotta weigh him down some, right? Hnn, I doubt he's a speed-based fighter anyways, but I always better be safe than sorry. The bartender came back with a glass, this time, instead of a shotglass, and set it down in front of Katana, "Thanks, broham," he muttered in between thought. Maybe the same strategy as before will work? Huhn. This would be alot easier with cover on the terrain. Maybe I shouldn't have went so batshit insane with the ol girl(In reference to Loyalty) At this point Katana gripped the glass and took a long chug from it - emptying about three quarters of the contents which felt like stomach acid tearing apart the lining of his esophagus, then exploding in his stomach. "CURSES!" he shouted, just before he went into an inexplicable spiel of tourettes. Damn these robots and their guns. Wait, is he a robot? Was the last guy a robot? I think so. He sure did look like a human, though.

At this point Katana finishes the remainder of the glass, which is compareable to someone shoving a flamethrower into his oral cavity and firing down his throat. Katana thought it wise to gear up at this point he was in the process of reloading the shotgun he looted, then pumped the action. He made sure he still had a few needles patched through his hakamas, oh, and not to forget his hat. The most important piece of his wardrobe. He fastened the tanto holsters along his bare-arms and legs, making sure the belt was fit - the usual. As a replacement for the gourd he had Loyalty on his back, so weight-wise it was probably safe to actually say that he weighed less than before.

It was just at this moment that - like before - another creature of some sorts went flinging into the counter, Katana swiftly ducked low, and kind of creeped away from where the monster landed, just as glass showered the countertop for the second time. He was creeping away cause that was the same monster that asimov had defeated in his previous round - and god knows it was probably pissed. DAMN pissed. Maybe chomp into everyone's favorite samurai pissed. Wait a damn minute, who the hell do you think I am! "HEY YOU OVERGROWN IGUANA, WATCH WHERE THE FUCK YOU'RE NOSEDIVIN' AT, A GUY TRIES TO HAVE A DRINK AND THE WHOLE DAMN BAR FALLS APART FROM ALIENS AND TECHNO-FREAKS. FUCKIN' SHIT, YOU PEOPLE." At this point katana - foolishly - was standing about three feet away from the monstrosity, shouting at it poking his finger at it, etc.

At this point an attendant walked up to Katana, "Um, excuse me, Mr. Ashigaru, please, sir.." but her tenative little voice couldn't possibly hope to reach the ears of the boisterous idiot. "YA DAMN GOOPEY LIZARD DRAGON, I'M TRYINA' HAVE A DRINK HERE AND-" "Mr ashigaru. The next round is about to start.." "YOU COME IN HERE WITH YOUR BULLSHIT TEARIN' UP THE DAMN BAR-" "Mr Ashigaru if I may please have your attention for one mome-" "ROARING AND SLINGING YOUR NASTY SLIME ALL OVER THE PLACE-" "Mr ashigaru, mr ashigaru!!" "THEN BREAKIN ALL THE GLASSES ON THE COUNTER, SHATTERIN GOD KNOWS HOW MANY-"

"KATANA ASHIGARU."

"Yo, whatsup." he says, wheeling around in place to look at the attendant, dropping the bitchfest at the lizard like a bad habit. At this point the female attendant adjusts her glasses, "Mr Ashigaru, the semi-final round is about to begin, if you would please gather your equipment..." Katana was starting to look kind of bored with her demeanor, already, "I would appreciate it if please would make your way to the designated area which is located on the north sector" okay, katana was pretty obnoxious we got that, but now she was just pressing his buttons, "HEY," he yells in her face, interrupting her completely. She pauses and he takes over the conversation "Listen here and listen good, lady. I don't know what kind of bossy place you run, but you take this slip of paper," he says, cramming it in front of her face, "and go make me a goddamn drink." This entire time the attendant was pretty shocked at his disrespect, she managed to open her mouth raising her finger "SIR, we have an automated bartender that-" Katana cut her off by putting his index finger vertically in front of her mouth "Shhhhhh, you, drink, make it happen por fayvor."

Katana walks away from both of them and goes to slide across a table against the wall, landing in the booth with his feet propped up. "I'll go to my match when i'm good n' damn ready. Ya hear?" The attendant looked flustered, but saw the bartend looking as if it had been deactivated in the confusion, so she went behind the counter, all huffy-like.

She had been waiting impatiently in her office ever since she had departed from the soldier’s room. There wasn’t much else she could do now that the tournament was at its end. He had been gone for almost an hour when her PDA beeped, the dormant screen awakening with a white glow. Honoria impatiently snatched the device and brought it down upon her lap and before her eyes. The results were in and they were so unsettling that she couldn’t help but clasp a hand over her mouth. Holy lost? Well, that didn’t worry her too much. Did he live?

Immediately, she burst out of her office into The Lobby, searching around fearfully until she saw him return from the battlefield, trekking oil across the floor. He seemed very much alive. “Holy!” she called and rushed over to him. The soldier stopped with his foot upon the step. Slowly, he turned around to face the woman.

“Hey” he greeted warmly with a smile. His eyes then widened when he felt Honoria’s arms wrap around him.
“I thought something awful happened to you,” said Honoria as a tear came to her eye. His clothes smelt of oil and were moist from the mist.

“No. ‘Guy didn’t even hit me, and I lost. I must go Honoria. I’m going to get Enya and leave. I have to return to my job.”

The brunette stared upon him sadly. Her eyes leaked with tears that he wiped away with his fingers. “Will I see you again?”

Holy frowned softly. He didn’t like to make people sad but…”No. This was a onetime thing. I have more important things to do.” Pondering only briefly, he smiled. “Why don’t you come with me? I can’t guarantee that you will be placed where Enya and I are currently in time, but I am certain that you will be placed in my world, and I can promise that you will see me again.”

Honoria leaned off him and wiped her eyes. She was silent for a good while, gazing at her clothes, seeking out who she wanted to be. Without looking up at him she asked, “You say…go back to your job. There must be something bad going on in your world.”

“Demons, devils, evil in general.”

“Do you believe that I will survive until we meet again?”

He understood her concern. “Here…” he said, removing one of his gloves. He placed a bare hand upon her forehead and he bowed his head. “I can only offer you a blessing. Life in my world is normal. The demons are just an occasional thing. Stay in a village. You will be safe there, and if any creature attacks, I will more than likely be there.”

Honoria smiled as more tears rolled like crystals down her cheeks. She took his large hand in her own and tilted her cheek into it. “I will be waiting then.”