Eiurin's Story

Eiurin

There was a hum running through her mind, the pounding of her blood in her ears as the adrenaline coursed through her veins. The young woman narrowed one of her eyes, lashing falling partially over slitted, golden orbs as she observed the opponent in front of her. A smirk slid across her face as she took a step carefully to her right, her opponent circling her just as well. The woman was tall in form, slender in figure--yet the leanness of her muscles indicated she was a fighter. Her fingers twitched just slightly as her smirk widened into a crooked upturn of lips. Her opponent refused to approach her first, watching, waiting. Her opponent was a larger man, surely twice her weight and fully clad in armor. He held his polearm professionally, the grip indicating he was not new to long-range combat.

She stopped abruptly, the turn of her heels bringing up dust from the ground as she did so. The figure tensed, as if sensing the oncoming attack. The woman whistled once in amusement before trilling her fingers together. There was the faint sound of metal scrapping against metal and the man looked utterly confused. For the woman before him looked human, albeit in skimpy clothing, but a normal woman nonetheless. She shifted her weight to her left foot as she pushed forwards, taking dashing steps towards the other. He instantly raised his polearm in front of his body to fend her off but at the last moment, she bent her body backwards and slid against the ground.

He hesitated and she twitched her fingers once more before allowing the metal to rush to the surface of her skin. She could already feel the bones in her hand shifting, altering, the skin becoming sleeker and smoother. Her hand morphed into a metallic claw and she swiped upwards, cutting into the side of his calf through the gap in his armor. The man let out a yell of pain but this did not deter him from spinning his weapon around in an attempt to connect with her body. The woman flashed him a sly grin as she allowed the weapon to nick the side of her arm, all for sport of course. These dim-witted people didn't seem the type to be entertained by a purely, one-sided fight.

The man drew false confidence out of this and drew his weapon back to thrust it forwards in an attempted jab to her stomach. She leaned back before she could be hit and grabbed on to the end of the weapon with her claws. With a malicious light in her eyes, she dug her claws into the metal, her clawed fingers instantly melding into the steel with ease. The man tried to rear back and pull his weapon away from her but she held on tighter and the weapon fell out of his grip. He swore, probably trying to re-evaluate his strategy on how best to attack her while she held his weapon. The metal that was touching her claws began to melt away and was absorbed into them, the man's eyes widening in horror.

Dropping the polearm, which was now just a stick, the woman eyed him through her mismatched eyes--one narrower than the other in an unsettling type of way. Giving a short laugh and a shrug of her shoulders, she winked at him before darting towards him once more. In a desperate attempt at defense, the man grabbed the partially useless polearm and fended off her blows, her claws razing against the stick with a ferocious velocity. She was intentionally not grinding it to bits, which she could've done long ago--she had to make this look good to ensure her victory was a success and not simply a "win". The man's eyes darted from his weapon to her claws and he turned over the longer stick in his hands and flicked it upwards. This actually caught her by surprise and it hit her right beneath her chin, the force of the blow enough to make her stagger backwards a few steps.

Her eyes flashed as her annoyance at him grew. Well, playing nice had just gone out the window. This little piece of shit thought he could hit her and she would take it kindly? Oh no.

A wicked gleam entered her eyes and she tilted her head to the side, jumping back several feet. The metal was already running through her body to her shoulder blades and the bones mutated as the metal slid out from under her skin. The crowd cheered louder as there was a slight ripping noise--an unfortunate section of her top had been snagged by the sharp edges of her wings as they protruded outwards and had been able to stay intact. The man trembled, ah yes, that look someone got when they realized that attempted resistance would be futile. She smirked cruelly as she spread out her wings and, with the darkest of sweet smiles, she flapped them once--small, metal blades coming out from the ends of her wings and penetrating through his armor with ease and into his flesh.

The man screamed but she quickly silenced him with one more blade straight through his throat, the yells turning gurgled. He gaped upwards for several more seconds before his body limply fell forward, already dead before he hit the ground. Wiping just a slight coating of perspiration from her forehead, the woman looked up as the trumpets blared to signify the end of the match. The crowds yells were thunderous and the girl merely raised an eyebrow. Funny how the people here seemed to worship carnage so. The announcer for the match looked nervous as he wandered into the large arena she had been battling in, stepping around the body and holding what appeared to be something she had heard was called a "microphone".

"A-And that brings us to the conclusion of the match! This newcomer surely doesn't mess around... It seems the young Princess Ignivicarian VI has chosen a lovely champion! But... ah, it seems your name isn't written down here, Miss ah... Miss..." She grabbed whatever this stupid device was from him and spoke into it clearly.

"It's--"

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Liandre

The young princess had been sitting on the edge of her seat, biting her lower lip as she gazed down at the events. As she had predicted, the white-haired woman was certainly lethal in battle. Such prowess would work well in the future, though it made her nervous to watch. As a rule, the royal did not attend these events for she found the carnage rather unnecessary. But this woman was her champion, her chosen guardian--and as the sponsor of such a woman, it was the princess' responsibility to oversee the events. Even if the sight of blood made her squeamish...

But when the woman grabbed the mic from the announcer, Liandre immediately went on high alert and stood up in her seat quickly. She couldn't let any of the others know about her guardian's name--the steambots would use that information to figure out that....! "S-Stop!" She called from her seat high above the arena, having stood up in her excitement. The shrill voice of protest echoed through the stadium and it seemed at once, the people had silenced down in surprise. She blinked, aware that she was being eyed by the king and the other royals who were attending the event. She cleared her throat anxiously.

"I-I mean, she does not have a name. The Metal Champion should work just fine." She tried to say firmly as her gaze slipped down to her feet. She had allowed her excitement to get the best of her and now her shyness was increasing. The announcer fumbled and tried to take the mic back, but not before the woman got her two cents in.

"Yeah, Metal Champion. Whatever, fucking posh idjits. Glad you enjoyed the blood, prin~cess~" The girl ended sarcastically before shoving the mic back in the announcer's hands and sauntering to the arena's exit. Liandre peeked upwards to see the woman being escorted between two of the steambot guards that were stationed by the exit. She sighed in relief; thank goodness that catastrophe had been aver--huh? Right before the woman was taken away, she raised up her middle finger in a rather offensive gesture. The sight made Liandre blush as she sat back down slowly, blue locks tumbled over her lap.

The king cleared his throat, giving a flick of the wrist. "Don't just stand there like an idiot, bring the next one in." He said with a dismissive voice. Liandre tensed a bit as she thought of the coming match. Those poor chosen, forced into the arena like mere fodder... There was not a part of the Battle Royale that struck her as entertaining or charming in the least--the very idea made her cringe. But hopefully, so long as her companion didn't stray too far from the plan, she'd be able to save the survivors by the day's end... Hopefully...

She looked down at her lap again, taking out the small mirror she always kept on her person. 'Oh Eiurin... please come through for me.' She thought wistfully as she stared at the object. For a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of gold and a slitted iris reflected back at her; the moment passing too quickly for her to evaluate. Before she could disconcert whether or not it had her imagination, she received her confirmation as a sarcastic voice filled her mind.

'I know, dumbass nymph.' Liandre gave a tremulous smile at the nickname. The connection vanished as the other must've severed it but the princess felt more reassured. Maybe the plan might be a success after all.

~Taran Mortair~

“You,” the coordinator pointed at Taran with a pen. “Get up, you’re next.” He sighed and stood, walking over to the steambots who were guarding the long entryway to the arena. He smiled and nodded at the girl who exited, before entering himself at the steambot’s command. He hated this hallway. It was far too long for his liking. He would have preferred that it was a simple gate from the arena to the waiting room, but instead it was a long tunnel like hallway. Once he exited, he took up his position, and watched at they let out the person who’s life he would end today. He truly pitied his opponent. The thing that was fighting him was so twisted that it was barely human anymore, it spread it's limbs out on the ground, planting itself like an animal. There were several horns protruding out of its body, where the bones overgrew. Its face was long like a dog’s and a bone plate covered from the tip of the nose to the back of the head, leaving holes only for the eyes and nostrils. Taran could not even tell if it was a male or female. It bared its teeth and gave a primal snarl challenging Taran to attack. He wanted nothing more than to end this thing’s life to end its suffering. He knew that it probably did not know how bad its life was, but that did not matter. The problem was, that if he simply put an end to the creature immediately, the audience would be disappointed. If the audience was not happy, then his handlers made sure he was not happy.

He spun the long pole in one hand through his fingers for a few seconds at a high speed before snapping it to a stop by planting it in the ground. The length and placement of the sharp, bone, spike-like horns would make it extremely difficult to fight this thing empty-handed, and would therefore take longer and require him to use his imagination. Two things the audience loved. He deliberately walked forward to the thing, seemingly casually and with his guard down. A thousand strategies were running through his head, a habit that his Master drilled into him in their daily training sessions. He could even hear the old man’s voice telling him his favorite sayings. ”Always calculate, always plan. Go into battle unprepared, then be prepared to lose your life.” Right now, he was judging the creature’s territory boundary. As soon as he crossed the line, the thing would pounce. The key was to accurately interpret the thing’s reactions to his approach. He had to be prepared in case he attacked to early or too late as well. And on top of all of this, he needed to make it flashy. He hated flashy stuff, but it made the audience happy. Ironically, the only person in the audience whose opinion truly mattered to him was the only one who hated flashy fighting even more than he did.

He almost caught the thing's reaction too late, but he was barely able to counter on time. He and the creature jumped off the ground simultaneously, the thing’s mouth open to bite, and its twisted, clawed hands ready to grab him. But Taran was ready. His body was twisting sideways, his feet spinning around at a high speed like a windmill. Before the beast could do anything, his heel came crashing down on the top of its head in a solid axe kick. The creature’s head instantly changed trajectory and smashed into the ground as its body flipped forward over onto its back. Normally, he would follow through with more attacks; however that would end the fight too soon. Instead, he landed on his feet and rolled several feet away setting a new stance. The first was improvised, and he only used it because the crowd would eat up his confidence. This time, he brought himself down to the beast’s level. It looked as though he was mocking the creature, but in actuality, he was using a type of reptile based kung-fu that his Master taught him. The creature rolled over and shook its head, sneezing. It saw him and made an odd noise between a bark and a snarl before leaping at him again. His right leg was out front, so he rested his weight on his left leg, and two front hands, brought his right back, and snapped back out like a whip in a tail kick. His leg looked like rubber in its fluid and powerful movement, and was solid enough to break three of the bone spikes off at the base and throw it off to Taran’s left. It recovered much quicker than the last time, and was pouncing again in a second. Taran crouched down and brought his left arm up, letting the thing bite on. It’s arms wrapped around his waist and shoulders as the thing gnawed on him. He fell back, making it look like the thing caught him off guard. He pretended to struggle as its claws groped at his dougi trying to slice into his skin with no luck. Its teeth tried to tear out chunks of flesh from his arm, but it remained intact. After a few seconds, he stopped pretending, and stood up with the creature still attached. Showing that the thing was not hurting him, he swiped his right arm down, breaking off all the spikes on its back, leaving broken stumps and translucent skin. He grabbed a remaining spike on its shoulder and threw the thing off of himself. He waited for it to recover again -this time a bit longer than the last two- and when it pounced, he caught it underneath its jaw, flipped it over belly up, and threw it against the ground at his feet.

He gave a depressed sigh before looking down and whispering to the creature, “My deepest of apologies, friend. I hate to toy with you so. Please forgive me.” Then without hesitation, he grabbed it by the throat, and threw it high into the air, repelling it farther with his gravitational ability. He then ran over to where he left his Naginata, and in one fluid movement, grabbed it, rolled on the ground, and threw it while upside down in mid roll. It was something that he had been practicing for months. His handlers encouraged him to have a “finishing move” of some kind, and this was the best he could do. Most people liked it, because they could not tell when he threw the Naginata. He hated it, because it was far too impractical, and felt awkward. It flew through the air, and stabbed the creature straight through the back of the head, behind the bone. It was dead before it hit the ground. He walked over to the corpse with the same attitude he did when the fight started, and pulled the staff from the body. He pulled a cloth from his pocket and wiped all the blood off from the blade, and the bit that got on the head of the staff. He always did this as soon as the fight was over. He did it to show the audience that he hated to kill, and nothing would ever change that. The blood on his precious blade was abhorring to him. And he wanted them all to know.

“Congratulations to our victor, Taran!” the announcer yelled over the microphone. He seemed to be scarred to come close to Taran, but he came out anyway for the announcement. “Yet another victory for this long lived Flawed, you all had better enjoy him while you can, this will be his last year!” He said with a clearly fake pity voice. Taran was one of (if not the) oldest of the Flawed, and would be executed in 11 months. He had been in many arena fights, and almost everyone knew who he was. His eyes turned from his combative black and red, to his furious dark green as he looked at the man in the eye. The announcer did not know what it meant, but he knew that there was a reason behind the change, and he could guess what was going through the warrior’s head. Silently, he spun the Naginata around with his wrist, bringing it against the back of his shoulder with the blade up. He bowed to the man respectfully before spinning the pole back to the front of his shoulder relaxed, and turning on his heels to walk back toward the steambots guarding the exit.

Screw all of these people. The words were silent, but he unsuccessfully willed every person in the room to know his thoughts.

Orfhlaith sat in the seat beside the King. Where she was forced to sit. Where she was always forced to sit. She had to make sure that her prediction would be correct. Which it would. It always was. The red head swivelled her eye to look at the guards that stood either side of her. As if they could hold her there. She had seen what they would do if she tried to leave without permission. Three times she was stabbed, seven she was knocked unconscious and twice she was beheaded. Yum. Just what you want to see before breakfast. Orfhlaith crossed her legs and looked down at her flinching hand. It clawed at the air desperately, twisting in its joints maniacally. She pressed down hard on the limb and made a face as the movement became more frantic.

Really. You don't seem to understand you are a limb. If I press down, you wouldn't suffocate. She grumbled mentally, outwardly showing no emotion. The royals were looking forward, eyes trained on the Battle Royale. The overseer fought the urge to yawn. Of course the woman with the metal flaw was going to win. You didn't have to be a seer to know that. Orfhlaith let the corners of her mouth curl slightly as the Flawed put in her opinion on the announcer's mic. Ah, so she did opt for the hand gesture. Lovely. Orfhlaith was concerned that it wouldn't happen. A one in three chance but she knew she didn't have to worry. Her previous visions told her this was one who had to be watched. The princess had obviously "chosen" a good champion...the red head smirked. Oh, how the princess tried to hide things. Obviously she had forgotten about her palace's plaything. The overseer frowned as her hand shot up into the air and then settled back down. The muscles were really starting to hurt from all the constant moving. Orfhlaith looked up in time to see one of the Flawed fighting get stabbed in the back of the head. The blood gushed and was soaked into the thing's fur. She sighed. This was getting boring. She had to leave sooner or later. The red head couldn't very well stay here all day. There was something else about to happen. Something much more important. But before Orfhlaith could put her plan into action, an unwanted presence was behind her. She rolled her red eye. Really. You didn't need visions to know this guy was coming. You could smell his cheap aftershave a mile or ten away.

"Good day to you too." Orfhlaith whispered, eye still fixated upon the match in front of her. Oh dear, that was all the blood splatter they could muster? How dreadfully boring, even more so than normal. The overseer heard a little intake of breath and smiled viciously.

"Oh, I do apologise. You haven't quite managed to relieve yourself of that deplorable pick up line. I am oh so sorry. Do let us start again. Here, you say your bit and I'll just pretend I've never heard it before." The overseer replied monotonously. Honestly, does this man never give up? Not even here, in the Battle Royale, surrounded by the Royals? Desperation was not the word.

"Oh, Orly, you know I love it when you do that!" The overseer winced at the name.

"Call me that horrendous name and I shall have to take action. When in relation with that name and by extention, you, may my thoughts be bloody or nothing worth." Orfhlaith spoke almost melodically, imagining an actor speaking the part. Silence greeted her. Of course.

"Oh, of course. Hamlet? Shakespeare? No? Thought as much. Being uncultured must be awful. I really feel for you." The overseer reverted back to her flat tone, eye glazing over as a new lot of visions came into focus. Boring, boring, oh, a murder, boring, boring, knew his wife was going to have an affair, boring, boring, blah, blah, blah, really, he couldn't tell his girlfriend was cheating on him? Orfhlaith rolled her eye. You didn't have to be the overseer to know that she was two more layers of make-up away from standing on the street corner. The redhead sighed and forced herself to listen to the guard's babbling.

"Comm'on, love! Jus' one drink?"

"Which you shall spike full of some not so legal drugs to get me in sleep with you? Get thee to a nunnery..." The overseer muttered, before looking up at the man for the first time.

"Oh and how is Anya? Still doing the drug runs?" She asked sweetly, watching as his face paled. Ha. He had forgotten she would know. Poor woman was ripped apart after she stole the substance. He had helped. A little cruel for an ex lover but ah, priorities. Besides. There was worse ways to die. Another bomb vision wormed its way into Orfhlaith's mind. Oh great. New bomb, new problems. Where were they finding this decrepit excuses for weapons?

When Orfhlaith finally concentrated on her surroundings, she almost swore (but didn't. Would be terribly improper to call someone a son of a female dog with the King beside you). She didn't have much time left. The overseer stood without thinking and winced as a hard grip clutched her left wrist, stopping her from leaving. Her hand writhed beneath the too tight grip and the redhead was forced to look at the King. His meaty fist was clutched around her slender arm and Orfhlaith felt the eyes of the Royals bore into her. She washed her face of any emotion, looking no one in the eye.

"Where are you going?" The King asked, eyes glinting. Orfhlaith took a deep breath before giving the King a smile that would never reach her eyes. He didn't seem to notice.

"Oh, nowhere. A lady does have to visit the ladies room every now and then, m'lord." The overseer spoke clearly, her voice laced with innocence she didn't possess. She watched as the King's tight grip loosened just as she knew it would. He clasped her left hand gently and Orfhlaith was never as thankful as she was now that her hand never obeyed her. She would have wanted to slap the man. Instead her limb now hung thankfully limp. The King moved her hand gently to his lips and let her wrist go. She felt like shuddering as his lips brushed her skin. Fantastic. Now she would actually have to go to the wash room to get rid of the vile essence on her hand.

"Do hurry now. I never like to have you too far from hand during these times." Orfhlaith didn't have to be a mind reader to grasp the hidden meaning behind that statement. I need to keep you under control and keep my status. "My champion shall be fighting soon, my dear, and I would like to have you nearby to watch." You better be right.

The red head nodded solemnly and hurried out of the Royal's box, stepping around the princess who would try to trip her up. Really, jealously was so childish. Although that horrid woman was very childish even though she was pregnant. She hadn't told her king as she wasn't married yet. And everyone knew what a bastard son could do in the delicate balance of the Royals. Orfhlaith had thought about telling the King but regrettably decided not to. Even though the scandal would be simply delicious, Orfhlaith was smart enough to know when to wait. Besides, when the child was five, that was when things would get very entertaining. The overseer stepped out of the Royal's box, side stepping the noble man outside. This must be Luther, the one who was after Princess Liandre. The overseer smiled cattily. Oh, it was nice to know things before the people themselves did. Orfhlaith gave the nobleman a thin smile before hurrying away. Time was of the essence and she had to be there at just the right time. The announcer's voice boomed over the speakers just as Orfhlaith passed her first "checkpoint". The overseer smiled her Cheshire Cat grin.

Right on time.

Perfect.

What a pity, she’s even more shy than most. Luther lamented to himself, it would certainly be a chore trying to make this one rise from her shell. Good, he loved a good challenge to be had. The young Royal let out a light chuckle at the conclusion of her little story; it was definitely amusing, if somewhat hard to swallow. He did enjoy a good tale every now and again, and luckily the young princess had risen up to the challenge well enough for the moment.

“Oh no my dear, it was marvelous, well done Liandre, you should see the look on most people’s faces when I ask them to tell me a story. It’s almost as if they believe I’m a child!”

The princess had retreated back into her shell even further by then, trying desperately to avoid Luther’s gaze. I couldn’t have scared her off already, I’ve been much too reserved to have done anything like that. He noticed Liandre shivering slightly, it was actually quite a nice day, but the girl was a dainty little thing and the balcony seats did tend to catch a decent breeze for the better part of the day. Adding that to just daring the thought of spending the day with the King was enough to make Luther shiver, much like he did when looking at the uniform he was forced to wear.

A brilliant thought struck Luther’s mind suddenly. Obviously the poor girl must be intimidated by the audience, that could be the only reason she was so easily turning from his brilliant charm, and here he was thinking he had scared her somehow. The only choice he had left was to get her away from the King and company for a short while, everyone needed to stretch their legs occasionally did they not? This would give him ample time with her alone, thus allowing her the privacy to open up more; well that was the plan anyway.

Luther stood up hurriedly, and luckily his impeccable sense of timing came at the end of a match. There had not been a single intermission between any matches so far, so one could not possibly be far off, depending upon how the King was feeling that might be a long while. Not to worry, the young Liandre looked to be having a dreadful time just thinking about the fighting taking place down below them.

“Dear Liandre, would you care to accompany me on a stroll? By the looks of that shiver you seem to have a chill, and nothing warms the body up better than a nice walk! There’s also the chance you could visit your competitor quickly, I doubt her next match is going to be soon,” Luther turned towards the King and bowed deeply, sweeping his right hand outwards and tucking his left across his waist, “That is if your majesty has no qualms,” He turned his head towards Liandre this time, “And naturally if you desire so Princess.”

The small hand in her lap tightened as the girl considered his words. While she did desire to leave the viewing stands, she planned on doing it alone. There were things to discuss with Eiurin, things that could only be discussed between the two females. However, she had a feeling it would be improper and rude to decline his invitation. The king had already reclined back in his seat and regarded the pair with a nonchalant expression.

"I doubt your charms will be enough to win her over, boy. You've had little success among the high tier royal families. However, I do believe a break is in order. Liandre, entertain his company." The princess bowed her head in defeat, careful to hide the disappointment in her eyes. She was a princess and it was naturally upon her shoulders to sometimes do things that she may not prefer to do. So it was with a heavy heart that she lifted her head, smiling as warmly as she could at Luther.

"Thank you for your offer," She said, hair sweeping behind her as she took his outstretched hand, using it to steady herself as she stood up straight. She cast a look over her shoulder at the king, who had gone back to disregarding their existence. A crease in her brow and a small bite to her bottom lip was the only sign of displeasure she'd show towards that man. She quickly reconstructed her look into her most pleasant for Luther as they exited from the booth.

Perhaps it looked a bit odd, now that she thought on it. They were getting a lot of odd looks from passerby. The small girl assessed herself next to him, his silver, gray-ish hair and her azure, blue locks. She was a good head or two below him in height and much more petite to top it. But perhaps it wasn't the bizarreness of their outwards appearances that were making people stare. Now that she thought on it, she had heard just a bit more concerned Luther--words spoken by his father at the gala. She remembered faintly that there was talk of him being a lady's man and a charmer, and compounded with the king's words, she could not help but feel this was true.

She looked up at him but said nothing, having eased her hand out of his the instant they had left the stands. The walk from the viewing platform all the way down to the visiting area (restricted and only royals were allowed access to see their champions) was surprisingly short. Considering that with her small golden key, she was able to give them a lift in the steam-powered elevator that took them straight down several stories to the area. She had down here only once, when she had first seen Eiurin off before the tournament began. She rather hoped the woman wouldn't mind a surprise visit...

Moments later and they had arrived at the bottom-most floor. One of the guards saw them and for a second, she could've sworn she saw Luther and the guard exchange a look. Did he know the castle staff...? She dismissed the thought as the guard bowed to her.

"A-Ah, My Lady, what brings you down here with... ah... the young Lord?" The guard ended hesitantly, shifting his gaze to Luther's in a somewhat accusatory manner. Liandre admittedly had no idea what was going on so she decided to ignore it, for now.

"I-I'm here to visit my champion, Luther offered to escort me. Would you mind terribly...?" She said in her shy voice. The guard blushed lightly as he complied, opening the door but shooting a glare to Luther as he did so. "Thank you," She said, embarrassment highlighting her voice in an undertone. She was at a loss for how to separate herself from the prince and privately hoped Eiurin had some sort of plan for that. She walked down the corridor, passing by several empty cells--empty holding pens now for the dead flawed. She felt her chest tighten as she forced her eyes away from such a sight.

"I'll save them somehow..." She thought with a melancholic air, for it was the only way to comfort herself. Exactly five doors down and two to the left was the room Eiurin was being kept in. The slot at the top was a bit too high up for her so she shakily stood up on her tiptoes to barely see inside.

"E-Eiurin?" She called softly, gripping the edges of the viewing window to keep herself from stumbling backwards. Sometimes, she disliked being so short. Eiurin was laying on the bed, knees bent and legs crossed, arms behind her head. At the sound of her name, the flawed turned, golden orbs narrowing.

"Oh, the prissy noble girl, what an honor." She said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. Eiurin did not bother to stand but her eyes passed over Liandre as she gazed behind the princess, seeing the man behind her. The metal user narrowed her eyes carefully and addressed him with a much colder tone. "Oi, stupid wise-ass, this isn't some playpen or brothel. Go find your fuck-buddy elsewhere." Liandre flinched at the language and settled on her feet normally to peer at Luther with concern.

"I-I'm sorry, w-what she means to say is--"

"I said what I meant." Eiurin spoke up loudly to cut her off. "Piss off, prince-boy, short-stuff obviously came to talk to me and was just being the polite princess she is and didn't tell you no earlier." With that, the woman simply stared at Luther with cool indifference. It did not matter if she was in this cell and he was outside. Regardless, she'd still be able to beat him to a pulp and made sure he knew it to by the intensity of her look. Stupid royal playboys.


The King’s insult forced a chuckle from between clenched teeth. It was true he had little, honestly no, success with any women hailing from Royalty. His reputation as a womanizer was somewhat unfounded, although it was true he did lay with the occasional peasant and tried a bit harder than any would at wooing a maiden, but what truly hurt his chances with any Royalty was the perception as him being unsound of mind. Just because someone wanted to do things differently, wanted to experience life without all the burdensome tradition, they were marked as an outcast amongst the upper-echelons of society. That was the main reason he frequented the common-taverns and acted as he usually did, if they did not like his way of thought then they could all be damned.

Liandre’s half-hearted smile was nearly enough to break Luther altogether at this point, as if the dreadful suit his father made him wear during times like these was not enough to do so. Honestly, all of the frills, they were just ghastly! He went on through with the motions though, using his outstretched arm to help balance the young princess as she stood up on those rather uncomfortable-looking high heels. He should know how uncomfortable they might be, the frock incident again you see. When they finally exited the spectator stands though, despite his already sinking heart, Luther let out one of his trademark laughs.

He waited a few moments, long enough for them to leave earshot, before breaking the somewhat tense silence. “Oh dear Liandre, you are very brave, inept, or desperate, and probably some combination of the three to actually take me up on my offer! You do realize just how this will look don’t you? I mean, most people consider me to be some diseased, lunatic whom they’re waiting to find running through the streets stark-raving mad and naked one of these days don’t you?” Another peal of laughter burst forth from Luther’s gut after happily speaking about the truth of the matter.

The giddy Royal, for what else was there to be but giddy in such a world full of tedium and hate, twirled around nonchalantly and began to walk backwards, perching his right hand behind his head and using his left to steady the sword at his hip. Everyone had already started to look at them as per usual, something he had grown accustomed to bearing, but the Princess might not be as familiar with the phenomenon.

It seemed he had been correct in his assumption, for not soon after he had turned had Luther noticed the Princess become somewhat more…aware of the kind of looks being aimed their way. Some people just take too long to catch on don’t they? “You know, you’re about to earn quite the reputation being seen with me in public. I’m not quite sure why though, apparently only harlots deign to spare me the time of day. That’s not quite true if I may say so myself, I’ve really only slept with a few on accident, it can be quite hard to tell when a woman really does like you when drinking is involved, not quite so much when you’re not though. I would have to say my one fatal flaw would be I love a good chase, is it my fault there are no women amongst the Royalty capable of withstanding a man of my singular magnificence?”

Things were much quieter after this particular burst of conversation, if just for the fact that Luther was intent upon humming a tune from the play, “I Want to Be Your Canary,” which had been playing in the area for some time now. He even continued to hum the tune whilst they were thundering down to the visiting area in the deafening steam elevator, honestly how could they have been using this technology for so long but still not learn how to soften the noise just a smidge?

Luther had been down in the visiting area many times, but for the most part that was when he was still young and his father was grooming him to be his pride and joy, it was such a pity not everyone could be as enthused with Luther as he was with himself. Nowadays he came in much less frequently; sometimes his father bothered to ask his opinion on a fighter, and that usually came with mixed responses from his father. Occasionally he was in tune with his father’s thinking, in which case he would receive a slight nod of approval if they proved capable and forced to admit his failures as a human being should they prove otherwise, and other times he would be ignored should he think differently. The guards were the same though, some were friends who loved to drink with him, and others wanted to strangle the life out of him, most wanted to do some of both.

Just a few nods here, a couple of winks there, and many smiles later and they finally reached Liandre’s destination, the cell of the fiery-woman who seemed to spew metal from her pores. A laugh bellowed forth from his gut at the response he received, it had been at least three days since someone had insulted him in such a way, it was quite endearing actually. “There’s no need for apologies Princess, this one is feisty isn’t she? Oh my, there is someone I do hope you can meet someday, he’s a rather good friend of mine, and you are of a similar demeanor if I’m not mistaken…I do believe he is afraid of a good woman though, is there any chance you could help him out with that? I would be indebted to you if you could you know!

She certainly did have a mean stare, but nothing compared to his father’s the day he wore that frock. In return Luther gave her one of his head-turned-sideways giant smiles and twiddled his fingers as a good-bye gesture. “Well Liandre,” He said whilst bowing deeply, “It was a pleasure meeting you! Hopefully I might be able to run into you again, but now I definitely must take off this atrocious outfit peacocks would be ashamed to wear! That and I must try and get to sleep sometime soon, I must tell my friend about your friend here…”

With that said Luther quickly twirled around and proceeded to wander amidst the visiting area. It would not be long before a guard asked him for his golden key as proof he was visiting his champion, of which he had neither, so there was nothing to do but enjoy the sights and maybe make a new friend.

Orfhlaith walked down the hall, her head held high and smile playing upon her lips. People stared. But don't they always? People had very little to keep their little minds amused anyway. Of course she was going to grab attention. She wasn't a royal yet she most definitely acted like one. She was also definitely a flawed. Her writhing hand proved that even if no one knew of her abilities. She was a half and half. She was a hybrid. She was, therefore, disgusted and feared. She didn't mind. Better to be feared than treated as a joke. But she watched as people looked in the royal box and saw her sitting beside the King. She knew what they all thought of her. More fool them. She swished her long hair out of her eyes as she went down the hall, annoyed at this minor problem. That bomb was much more trouble than it was worth. However it would do no good to be down in the flawed holding pens and explode. That would just be terribly inconvenient.

Besides, this was more of a double check of the double check. She was rather sure that the bomb wasn't going to explode but she really did not want to take that chance. And she wasn't all that sure the double check was all there.

Her hand convulsed violently, grasping at the air with desperate motions. She frowned at the limb. Now, really! Calm down! I have all this under control. No need to panic. To her surprise, her hand actually ceased its frantic movements apart from the occasional twitch. Orfhlaith nodded to herself. Apparently, talking to the hand actually worked. Oh, the irony.

So she moved down to the rooms where this monstrosity would be held. She leaned against the door frame, her red eye taking in the room. A large dirty blob of metal sat in the middle of the dark, messy room. Oil slicks were artfully dispersed around the floor and there was a lone scientist, working within the mechanisms. Orfhlaith rolled her eye and slowly moved forward. Her boots clicked against the floor, the noise distracting the scientist who looked at her in fear. Of course, she was merely a shadow to these people. A plaything of the King's. She grinned viciously before leaning over and flipping a switch.

"W-what are you doing?!" The man spluttered, holding a wench in a defensive position. Orfhlaith's red eye looked him up and down before she rolled her orb.

"Really, I was merely making sure we exist in the next half hour. Flipping the wrong switch? And you call yourself a scientist? Standards round here really are slipping." The overseer mused, her smile becoming slowly more vicious. The man looked terrified. She looked at the wench that he held and smirked. Now, this fight wasn't active in this time stream but really, it was too much fun not to re-enact.

"Now what are you going to do with that? I hope you weren't meaning to attack me. For, I, my dear, can simply slip away." With that the young woman moved gracefully to the left, stepping in behind the scientist and pulling him into a backwards stretch by grabbing his hair firmly. He looked her right in the eye as her left hand graced his thin reedy neck.

"As you can see, this position isn't very good for you. In fact, it's an awful position for you." A thin sharp knife slipped into her left hand and she quickly swapped positions. Her left hand held the man's head tightly, muscles convulsing every now and then, earning slight whimpers from the scientist. In her right hand, the knife lightly caressed the man's artery.

"Now, there is a little lesson to this scene. Do you wish to hear it?" She cooed gently as he gulped hard. His Adam's Apple bobbed and she let out a little hiss as the knife pressed down hard against the throat. He slowly nodded and the redhead grinned. Suddenly, the hold, knife and young woman were no longer behind the scientist and he fell to the dirty floor with a thud. He looked up and found himself face to face with the crouched young woman, who smiled viciously.

"The lesson is, my dear, always flip the right switch, Artem Jater, or you will have to answer to me." And with that, the overseer stood up and strode out of the room. She could almost feel the fear from out in the hall and the vision of everyone horribly dying was also gone. A win-win situation all round. The overseer let loose a peal of laughter as she made her way to the flawed pens. It was now time for the main attraction. The big event was just about to start and she was going to have fun playing her part. Oh, so much fun.

"Roll up, roll up." Orfhlaith laughed again, eye flashing. "The show is about to start."

~~~

Orfhlaith made her way around the flawed pens without hanging around. She didn't exactly enjoy being down here as it reminded her of a fate she just missed. If the government hadn't noticed what she could do, she would have been here. No. She would be dead. Orfhlaith knew that for sure. She had seen it enough times, flashes of her own vocal chords being turned into ribbons by monsterous claws, spears flying through her body to hit the opposite wall while leaving a trail of gore behind. Never pleasant. Seeing the future is all well and good and she may be able to foresee attacks but the King was known to release another flawed into the arena to speed things up a bit.

She wouldn't stand a chance, with or without her abilities.

Not that that would be her punishment. No, that would be a waste. She wouldn't get such a privilege. The redhead stopped and shuddered gently as flashes of memories flew to the forefront of her mind. The overseer growled to herself and moved those memories to the back of her head. She didn't need those right now. She had more important things to worry about at the moment. The redhead moved into the shadows to the left of an empty cage as the nobleman, Luther, passed by. Just on time. Good, good. Orfhlaith stood for a second, musing on who must have occupied this cage. Not that it mattered. In death, no one cared about the flawed. Come to think of it, they weren't all too important in life either.

Orfhlaith left the shadows and carried on her way. She passed many a flawed that she knew were going to die. The girl worrying her lip would be decapitated. The young man practising with a staff would be impaled upon a sword. The overseer closed her eyes as she passed the King's champion, a horrible animalistic thing with a slobbering jaw and claws as long as knives. She knew he/she/it would win. She had seen it. She also felt a tendril of doubt seeping into her mind but quickly dismissed it.

It would do no good to worry when you already knew the outcome.

She noticed that the blue haired princess was still conversing deeply with her "champion". The redhead knew she had at least five minutes before she should interrupt. This seemed as good a time as any to reorder her current visions. She stood against an empty cell and mentally flicked through the threads.

Hmm. Boring, boring, death, birth, sex, sex, flawed being turned into mush, apocalypse, theft, the King...Orfhlaith bit her lip hard. The King did not look happy she had been gone for so long. She grabbed her left hand tightly as it convulsed, obviously mirroring her anxiety and fear.

Stop it now. We both know that he wouldn't be a problem for us. Come on now. We have first impressions to make and it simply wouldn't do if you are panicking like that. Orfhlaith grinned as her left hand lessened it's movements. It was still twitching but at least it wasn't as bad anymore. The five minutes were up and Orfhlaith had things to do. She slinked behind the princess silently and leaned against the cage behind her, red orb glinting with an indistinct mix of emotions.

"Oh my. What do we have here? A party? How delightful. Am I invited, per chance?" The overseer asked, her malicious grin widening at the look on the princess' face. Too much fun, really.

(Eris) "No, fuck off. It looks like your period came hella early and screwed up your dress" A voice from inside the cell called out. Orfhlaith grinned and without skipping a beat, she returned the favour. Gladly.

"Looks like your period attracted wolves and they ate your dress." Then, moving away from the cage she leaned on and moving a little closer, she carried on with an expression of mocking thoughtfulness. "That or you shop at "Sluts-R-Us". I don't really care, true be told."

Before the woman inside the cage could reply or the princess could open her mouth, a call caught their attention.

"Orly!"

"Oh, for the love of all that is holy..." She turned to the two in front of her. "Excuse me two minutes." She turned and was greeted by that obnoxious face in front of hers. She let out a cough as his aftershave overpowered her senses.

"What do you want." The redhead asked, voice flat and emotionless. Her red eye flared underneath her red fringe. She knew what he was going to say but really, common courtesy dictated that she let him speak. Unfortunately.

"The King sent me to find you! He thought you had gotten lost, Orly!" The guard reached out and grabbed her wrist. The left one. Her hand instantly reacted by trying to claw at the man's hand. The overseer mentally praised her limb. Good job, dear. Finally doing something I want you do to.

"I am not lost and I do not wish to return to that vile man's side. And what have I told you about calling me that?" She hissed, eye a hard red. The guard frowned and went to pull the young woman to the Royal box. The redhead sighed heavily. Of course, she couldn't just listen to her. No, of course not. It wasn't as if she knew exactly, to the last detail, what was coming or anything like that. Oh, of course not. Mister Big, Brawny and Dumb over here obviously knew best.

He obviously didn't know her very well.

She didn't take to being forced into things kindly. The overseer pulled a thin dagger to her right hand and with controlled familiarity and ease, thrust it deeply into the man's shoulder. The guard bucked at the pain and fell to the ground, releasing Orfhlaith's arm. The overseer brushed her arm down casually and looked back up at the two women in front of her. She was about to carry on her conversation with the delightfully entertaining metal user inside when the guard on the floor groaned in pain. Orfhlaith rolled her eyes.

"Now really. Do be quiet. You are fine! Not in one single future do you die, which is a little disappointing really. A bit like opening that huge present in the corner for Christmas and discovering it was a hideous jumper..." The overseer trailed off, hands on hips, looking down at her victim. Her left hand drummed gently against her hip as the man groaned in agony. The guard eased an eye open and looked up at the red haired woman. He then slowly grinned.

"Heh. Anyone e-ever tell you t-that you look incredibly h-hot when you're angry?" The redhead blinked for a second, for once honestly confused. Sure, she had seen him say that in a vision but she didn't actually know he would say it.

"I just stabbed you and you are still trying to flirt with me?! I do not understand you, Torn. But that doesn't matter. Just keep quiet; I'm trying to have a civil conversation here." With that she looked back up at the princess and the flawed, hand writhing and locking in the muscles, with a catty grin stretching her features. She brushed back some red locks that had spilled upon her shoulder and look at the people in front of her. Her single red eye flashed in the low light.

"So. You were saying?"

Liandre

Liandre eyed the retreating figure of Luther, who had somehow taken Eiurin's insult rather well and casually played it off as he sauntered away. The princess watched him for only a few seconds more before leaning back up on her tiptoes to see inside the cell. The metal girl yawned, thick lashes falling over her eyes as she adjusted her position, lying on her back and putting her hands back behind her head. Liandre fidgeted. She had never been good at knowing quite how to approach the flawed, or even speak to her in a conversation for that matter. Eiurin had the unfortunate habit of making anyone nervous and for the petite girl, who barely socialized as it was, this made this much more difficult.

Her fingers shook from trying to support her weight as she gripped the frame of the viewing window. Eyebrows furrowed in determination, Liandre worked up her nerve to address her champion. "H-How are you feeling after the first match?" She inquired, trying a bit of an ice-breaker into the conversation. Eiruin liftedwhere up one of her hands, the tips of her fingers morphing into bits of sleek metal that she lifted to her lips. The woman flicked out her tongue, letting it slide up the steel with nonchalance.

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?" The princess had to guess that this meant something along the lines of "well" and she nodded, adjusting her weight from one foot to the other.

"That's... that's good to hear!" She tried for a smile but the rather nasty look Eiurin shot her from underneath black lashes was enough to make Liandre falter. "U-Um... I wanted to speak things over with you--before the next round of matches." The blue-haired girl looked over her shoulder to make sure there were no guards in the vicinity. After verifying there was indeed no one, she pushed closer to the door and lowered her tones to whispers. "At this point... I-I believe only the strongest of the flawed will be left. From what I've researched, after we pass this round, we will move into an elimination round where all but two of the victors will be left alive." This was enough to make Eiurin actually turn her head towards the princess, though there was an odd smirk on her lips. Was the woman... amused...?

"Ah," Eiurin began with what seemed to be care. "So they want us to fight each other then. Pick each other off like lint off their clothes or some shit." Liandre flinched at the language but nodded all the same.

"R-Right. That's the moment I want to initiate my plan. It's the only time all of the remaining victors will be in the arena in any interval and the only... only chance we'll have to rescue everyone. And I was--" She was cut off by a rather firm wave of the hand by Eiurin, who had tensed up considerably. Liandre teetered on her heels, losing her balance faintly and nearly lost her grip on the window. She tried looking over her shoulders once more to see what had Eiurin so on edge. She needn't have made an effort to try and spot what was causing the woman discomfort for the presence identified themselves with a lilting voice.

"Oh my. What do we have here? A party? How delightful. Am I invited, per chance?" A rather unsettling grin came from the woman in red who had made herself known, shivers going down Liandre's spine. Eiurin clearly heard what was going on outside the door and spoke up in an irritated tone of voice, the usual harshness coming on a bit heavier.

"No, fuck off. It looks like your period came hella early and screwed up your dress." The princess immediately went to go object, there was no need for this fighting! It made her rather nervous anyway, and she was already anxious with this woman here. She was not sure who this woman was exactly, save that she lingered around the king. It did not seem like a fair assumption to think this was some high-class consort or brothel lady of sorts but why else would one linger around such a cruel man? He had all the advisers, informants, and other such members of the royal court right at his fingertips. But he never seemed to tire of collecting whores, so perhaps this woman was one of them. The wariness surely showed on her face for the red-haired woman's grin widened.

"Looks like your period attracted wolves and they ate your dress.That or you shop at "Sluts-R-Us". I don't really care, true be told." The vixen gave a fiery response indeed to Eiurin's quip. Liandre decided to fall silent, for it did not seem her voice was really of any significant merit in the current conversation. She could only hope her champion knew what she was doing.

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Eiurin

The metal woman in question was anything but amused as a frown overtook her features. The voice outside the door was deeper than the whelp-princess' and infinitely more annoying. She could just about see the woman from out of the corner of the window but had already turned her gaze away, looking back up at the ceiling. Eiurin didn't enjoy attention-whores or busy-bodies. She wasn't going to even attempt a response to this stupidly irritating woman who barged in on others. There was what sounded to be a crash outside as someone seemed to clamber into the hall outside. Really, what the fuck was it with all these damn intruders? A furrow of her brow indicated her quickly deteriorating mood.

"Oh, for the love of all that is holy... Excuse me two minutes." Came the voice of the red woman. Well, good fucking riddance. The princess was enough to deal with, she did not enjoy all these retarded visitors. Eiurin ignored the sounds that were coming from the hallway, instead focusing on rather artful ways to kill all the people who had come upon her today. Okay, besides blue-hair. She kind of needed that royal prissy-pants to get back to her home. After witnessing the ways of things in this city, she'd take her world any day of the week. There were a few more shuffling noise and what sounded to be like gasping pants (HA--anything sounded like sex when you couldn't see what the hell was going on) before the annoying voice spoke up again, sounding ruffled but playful.

"So. You were saying?" Eiurin bothered to look over towards the window, seeing the little princess flit her eyes nervously between the cell and the woman. The metal flawed shrugged her shoulders. She wasn't going to save miss socially-awkward twice in such a short span of time. Liandre seemed to come to grips with this and forced her small voice out.

"W-Well, um... My champion's just had a long day--I.. um, hope you'll understand?" The princess was using those appeasing tones of voice. Ugh, grated on her ears, that did. "I-In fact, it would be best if I returned to the proceedings... I was only wishing her good luck anyway. S-See you soon, my metal champion." Liandre was careful not to say Eiurin's name. Personally, the flawed did not see what the big deal was but apparently, names could be used by the steambot or some shit to track a person down. She didn't like taking orders from the princess but it'd be best to listen to the royal's words, at least while she was in this strange world of Isallia. It was with this line of thinking that Eiurin breathed out heavily and dismissed the girl in bored tones.

"Yeah yeah, what the fuck ever. Get lost," She said with a wave of her hand. That other woman better have also taken the hint. Eiurin did not want anymore visitors.

Eiurin

It had been terribly unpleasant for the woman, for that stupid, stupid red pixie slut fairy refused to leave the vicinity of her cell. Being snappy didn't seem to be the proper approach with this red-haired vixen, so instead, she had opted for ignoring the consort. Oh sure, little miss pain-in-my-ass had forced her presence anyway for a time, bantering on and on about choosing right and altering paths to make sure stuff panned out right. Eiurin had never been one for the cryptic bullshit and pretty much had tuned out the entirety of the statements in favor of a mental image of the girl dying slowly whilst being impaled in a bed of spikes. That was a nice image, yes, she could work with that. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, the metal flawed refused to comment and eventually, the other had finally left. Gods above, that was annoying. It didn't seem as if she could catch a break, however, as it was merely moments after, right when she had been about to curl up on her bed that there was a loud knock at the door. Oh, what the bloody fuck...

"Get on your feet, freak. We're moving you to the waiting quarters." Ah, it was one of those retarded guards who thought he could order her around. How utterly amusing. She'd comply, she was good at playing. And wasn't that all she had been doing for the small princess anyway? She'd been putting up with all this abuse and topsy turvy society just for the sake of the desires of a whelpling who had no concept of the world outside of her own. But Eiurin did. She knew the world out there. It wasn't a sanctuary, the princess was wrong. But it was too late to change things and she had agreed to this doomed plan anyway. A plan she had promised to force success upon. She was a fool.

She clenched her fist, stepping up from her bed and adjusting her features. She would not show this uncertainty to anyone else--she had a reputation to uphold after all. So she tilted her chin up, walking over to the door just as the guard opened it. There were two steambots in the hallway, her escorts, she could presume. Eiurin put her hands behind her head, for all intents and purposes, she had never had those negative thoughts to begin with. She lowered her lashes slightly as she huffed out.

"Well, I don't have all day--seriously, you're leading me to my lovely darling death." She let out a scoff at her words, golden orbs moving between the steambots seamlessly. There was no response, the bots just turning as she wandered out, hovering on either side of her. Most likely to prevent her from making an escape, if any--how endearing, as if she'd really try to run anyway. They led her to a different elevator than the one she had taken up to the arena, shoving her in somewhat roughly. Eiurin glared at the machines with as much malice as she could put into her glare, a feat she had gotten quite good at. The bots hesitated for a few seconds before inserting an odd-shaped jagged key into the pad on the wall. The elevator whirred to life and she sighed as it brought her up several flights, making a creaking noise the whole way up. These devices really needed to be quieter. It was grating on her faint headache.

The platform came to a halt, the woman stepping off of it with a frown. There were other flawed here, the ones she had spied on that had also fought in the previous matches. She didn't want to bother moving near them though, choosing to recline on the floor nearest to the exit. Her antisocial mentality wasn't shared, apparently, by all of the occupants of the area for one spoke up, his voice smooth and warm. An odd combo and one she instantly disliked for it was so out of place. Hmph.

“Greetings, I am called Taran. I look forward to getting to know each of you. If I may ask, what are your names?” There was a silence that settled about--oh hey, that priestess girl had made it. The girl was pale as death and leaning against a far corner. Eiurin took the opportunity to gaze around the room at the others to get a better look at them, at least--she wasn't sure how long she'd be stuck with these idjits but if the plan was successful, it was be a pretty, shitty long time. The one that had spoken up had a calm visage about him, ugh, absolutely infuriating. She took her eyes off him immediately, turning her gaze to the winged boy who looked just as irritated as she. It was he that spoke some sense, his voice chilled and distant.

"Why get to know us? We're all going to die anyway. What's the point?" Her thoughts exactly. Minus the dying. Eiurin didn't entertain that thought with a great amount of pleasure. She yawned, taking the tips of one of her metal wings and running her fingers along it carefully.

"What an absolutely splendid point of view." She said with sarcasm layering her voice in nearly suffocating amounts. "Since we are so obviously going to die, we might as well decide who is going to double-team up together to kill the others. And in case you were unclear on it, I am totally snagging dibs on the winged asshole. He looks like tons of bloody fun." She was careful to drown out the question of names with her own natural brand of snarkiness. Though personally she didn't understand it, Liandre had been very firm about Eiurin keeping her name a secret. She could abide by that desire, at least. Introductions would do little anyway--if that stupid slut's words had been any indication, the elimination match would be coming sooner than they had expected. And she would have to be ready.

"What an absolutely splendid point of view. Since we are so obviously going to die, we might as well decide who is going to double-team up together to kill the others. And in case you were unclear on it, I am totally snagging dibs on the winged asshole. He looks like tons of bloody fun."

His cold yellow gaze shifted slowly to pierce the girl who was seated on the floor against the wall. Her body was half metalic, and large metal wings extended out behind her. She looked like a good fighter herself, of course if she were in that room he assumed she must have been. They were all penned up in that cage for one reason only. The final matches were coming up and they were going to be the bloodiest.

"Che," Quinn made the harsh sound between his teeth as he narrowed his eyes at her, "I hope you mean in fighting me. I'll kill you if you try to work with me," he spat back, his richly deep voice nothing more than a growl.

If she had any response, it was drowned out by a suddenly loud noise. Above, the earth split opened and sand fell down into the cage they were in. The sounds of steam filling pipes emerged from all sides. Shuddering wracked the entire metal pen and slowly the contraption began to rise up into the air. Quinn didn't move from his spot, though his body had shifted slightly to compensate from the motion. His wings flicked outwards to steady his body, but that was about it as his arms were still crossed over his chest and one leg was up against the wall and the other stretched out before him. The only area he could see out was the door near where the girl sat, a single window to peer through. Then the sides of the room where there were slats of metal bars, the rest of it was solid steel around them.

Slowly the contraption stopped and the shaking gave one last large shudder before coming to a stop. At this point, they were now out in the view of everyone up in the stands of the coliseum. The noise was almost deafening and he rolled his eyes, irritation plain on his face. These 'games' were pointless, shedding needless blood. His fingers tightened unconsciously on both arms.

"Citizens of Isallia, we now move into the Elimination Matches! Do not forget, there can only be one winner..."

The pen that had risen in the center of the arena was filled with Flawed, himself included. Quinn glanced around, his sharp eyes taking in everything. The moment the pen opened, he snapped open his wings and skirted off to the sides of the arena, careful to avoid the barrier that lined it. He glowered at the blue glowing energy field, a twitch in his wings showing is distaste for their underhanded approach to the final battle. It would prevent him from using the wall as a means of propelling himself should he get thrown. Of course, that meant that he couldn't allow himself to be thrown either.

Quinn moved quickly, taking the time to pick his target. There was a hard lump in his throat as he let his wings move him. He glided over the dirt, barely touching it with his boots as he skidded around, keeping out of reach of anyone. Of course no one looked at him just yet, maybe they thought he would be easiest to take down. Already many of the Flawed were engaged in a fight with one another. Gods... he hated what he saw before him so much. However, there was little he could do to change it. It was fight and live, or stand around and die.

With that in mind, Quinn locked onto his first target. The little girl was smaller than most of them there, and though he hated to admit it, she was probably the easiest to kill first. It took him only a second to put up his resolve. He tightened his jaw and his eyes narrowed, colder than they were before. Focusing his mutation, he altered the silver liquid in his body and it stretched. His feathers erected and he sent a barrage of them right at the unsuspecting girl. Maybe she'd heard the sound of the sharpened feathers as they made a soft whistle, or maybe she just felt in danger. Whatever the case was, she turned and her bright purple eyes were wide with shock and fear.

The feathers did not halt in their advance, however, and continued onwards, straight through her. Quinn knew that he would be seeing that tortured face for some nights to come. It was something that he'd grown used to. Many sleepless nights were akin to this life he found himself in. Quinn didn't allow himself to stay in one spot and moved quickly. Apparently that attack had gotten someone else's attention and they were determined to kill him.

Had he interrupted an alliance? Fools. Why did they even think that making an alliance was the best shot at this? You would only have to turn on your 'friend'. There was no point. His wings pumped hard and he circled the man who lunged at him. The Flawed was heavily armed, but that was just his build to begin with. Monstrous was more like it. Metal knives protruded from his body at all angles, bony spikes lined his bald head and went down his back that followed a large muscular tail.

Quinn let go of his mutation, the silver retracting slightly across his body and giving him some measure of discomfort. He wasn't going to waste such precious power, or life, on someone like that before him. His wings arched back, flinging outwards and up. His feet dropped onto the ground from the light scrapping they'd been doing before hand. Quinn dropped back into his fighting style, one that allowed him to offer up powerful kicks.

The Flawed took this as a sign that Quinn had just opened up an opportunity for him to kill Quinn. Rather, it was the other way around. As the bulky mass of spikes and knives rushed the smaller, more nimble winged boy, Quinn flipped his body around. His leg came up and kicked hard, right into the Flawed's face. His opponent was startled at what just happened, and because of this, Quinn gained the upper hand very quickly.

In three more kicks, he'd knocked the man down to the ground. The Flawed lying before him wasn't dead yet, but Quinn wasn't going to just leave him there either just because he was unconscious. With a hard flap of his wings, he jumped up into the air and using his body weight, coupled with a backward flap of his wings, he fell down onto the back of the man's neck with his boots. There was a snap, and that alone told Quinn that the man was no longer among the living. Turning, Quinn opened up his wings once more and started looking for his next opponent.

---

---

Eiurin was half-tempted to flip off this (cool) asshole as he back-talked her, moving past her towards the entrance of the holding room. He seriously needed to learn some ma... psh, screw that, her manners were not even worth noting in the slightest. She stared at him, a snarky reply ready on the tip of her tongue when she was drowned out by metallic clicking.

She tensed a bit, shivering a little in anticipation of what was to come. Liandre had gone over this part of the plan with her many times--too many times that it had come to annoy her greatly to reflect on it. She was going to have to bide her time--hold her own in the coming battle. Whle several or so minutes may seem like nothing to the little princess, that was quite awhile inside of the arena. Not that she doubted her own skill--she was pretty badass herself.

Eiurin cracked her knuckles, flicking a bit of hair out of her eyes as she straightened, getting up off of the bench she had been reclining on. The whirring came to a halt, the bars over the entrance to the arena slowly raising. If any of them had thought about possibly hanging back, spikes jutted out of the wall behind them. She narrowed her eyes, noticing that the wall was steadily inching closer to them--making escape a moot point. Not that she was about to back down from this challenge--she wasn't a coward. She walked into the large, open space set up for the elimination round, her chin held high and lips set in a thin line. She shot a look up into the stands, instantly able to spot the royal prissy pants out due to her blue hair. That was such an obnoxious color, seriously.

The booming voice of the cocky king reached her ears but she did not pay much attention. Already, she had noticed the high volume of misshapen flawed about the arena--but there was one missing... She scanned the area--nope, it wasn't here. The flawed that belonged to the king had apparently not been released yet. A yell from over her shoulder came from a golem-like being who charged at her, arm contorted into a sort of spear. She smirked and bent her knees, waiting until it was nearly upon her before jumping atop the weapon. It went to fend her off, swiping its arm in an upwards arc to get her off of it. She used the momentum to make herself temporarily airborne, diving at its fast as her smirk grew. Her hands were already claws as she penetrated its eyes, screams from the creature soon following.

She pushed off of it, slicing down its torso on her descent to the ground. The flawed tumbled onto its back behind her, already dead before it had completely fallen. Her attention was already shifted to the flawed that had grouped together--she had been correct when she had casually stated that some would be teaming up to kill the others. She did not let this deter her, running at the group and then shifting her weight so that she slid on the ground. The friction from the movement burned her exposed skin a bit but she paid it little heed, spreading out her wings so that they sliced the legs of the flawed as she slid by. She got up, breath hitching a bit as she did so. Her eyes traveled up to the stands again where the princess watched from, face pale and lips pursed in worry.

Stupid girl better be doing what she was supposed to be--she hated wasting her time.

---

---

The small, blue-haired girl found herself almost paralyzed as she watched the brutality, eyes widening as she took in every moment. It was just so horrible to even look at--how she the king possibly get enjoyment out of watching sheer murder? And why were the people in the stands cheering? She fought back a near sob of fright as she thought Eiurin was about to get hit, but the flawed girl was quick on the uptake and sliced her opponent in no time. Liandre breathed out in relief but this feeling did not last for long--she had to get to moving. If her estimations were correct, this match wouldn't take nearly as long as it usually did. The champions that were surviving so far were quite powerful. In some respects, this was a very good thing but it made her current task at hand difficult.

The girl looked over at the other occupants of the stands, the odd red eyes of the king's.... adviser... staring her down as she got up. She felt uncomfortable with that kind of intensity upon her and immediately shifted her gaze downwards to the floor. As she went to move towards the door, a cool voice caused her to come up to a halt.

"And where are you headed in the middle of all the activity, Liandre?" The king called out to her, not moving an inch from his seat. His eyes were disgustingly fixated on the match, taking in every detail, yet somehow he managed to spot her out despite her efforts to stay under the radar. However, the princess had her current pale complexion on her side and she made a bit of a show of making heaving gestures and holding her stomach.

"A-Ah... I'm unused to the sight of blood, Your Majesty." It wasn't a lie, she really wasn't used to it at all. "It has made me a bit queasy and I just need some... fresh air." She ended a little hesitantly--considering they were outside, he may not take to her words all that well. Some silence passed between them, the girl rooted to the spot and not daring to move. The king cleared his throat, waving his hand dismissively at her.

"Do return with haste, my dear, you will miss the best part." She did not like the way his voice dipped when he said the word "best", but there was little she could do but give a meek nod of agreement The guard moved to the side as she walked past him, leaving the stands and finding herself in the hallway. Liandre breathed out, feeling a bit better now that she didn't have to see such brutal carnage. But there was no time to relax, she had to get moving!

She turned right, walking towards the far staircase. Ordinarily, no one came this way. The only ones that ever occupied the east wing of the castle were the scientists. She was sure... sure they must've still not been back in their labs yet. All scientists were called out of their quarters to supervise the barrier that was currently erected over the arena. Just to make sure that nothing went awry and, more importantly (for them at least), that none of the flawed tried to make any quick getaways. The steambots had also been called away for this very task so her walk through the castle was a lonely one indeed.

The princess rounded the corner, eyes hesitantly taking in her surroundings to make sure she was alone. She nodded to herself, shuffling forwards slowly and taking out her small key. She pressed her palm to the wall, a little ding! sounding seconds later and a slot opening up in the wall. She inserted her key into the lock, turning it to the side. A part of the wall to her left caved inwards, sliding to reveal the door to the upstairs labs. And... the place where they kept the gate.

She darted inside quickly, wall closing up behind her and leaving her in pitch-black silence on the other side. She took deep breaths to calm herself, walking blindly forwards until she felt the cold surface of another metal door. She pushed it open, sunlight streaming through the glass windows above and restoring light to her present location. The upstairs labs were elegant, much more well-equipped than the common ones on the other levels. Only royals and elite scientists were ever allowed up here--and she had only been here once before. The time she had brought Eiurin over....

She drew out her mirror, peering into it. "H-Hello? Eiurin, can you hear me?" The sounds of clashing metal suddenly filled the room from her mirror. There was no clear image from the other side, Eiurin must've been using her claws at the moment.

"What is it! Damn it, could you not interrupt me when--what the fuck, that winged asshole just took my kill!" Well, at least she was feisty...

"I'm sorry to disturb you, I-I just... How is everyone holding out? I'm in the main room and the device is just some meters from me." A horrid sound erupted from her mirror, sounding like flesh being torn or something equally gruesome. Whatever it was, all that danced upon her screen were flashes of crimson and silver--and the sounds of Eiurin's panting.

"Yeah yeah... the ones that were in the holding room seem to be holding out--" Eiurin's speech was a bit choppy, the woman speaking while she was battling--at least as far as Liandre could tell. "--But it ain't pretty down here so you better be happy your little prissy pants is up there."

"Are you ready...?" Liandre asked quietly, trembling a bit in nervousness. She had been preparing for this for months--but now that is was upon her... now that she was here...

"I've BEEN ready, fuck, that is one ugly-ass... Whatever--the sooner you do your stuff, the sooner I don't have to look at the one-eyed freak show over there. Now, some of us can't be talking and yapping so you do your thing, and hurry up." The image, and the sounds that came with it, faded from her display and her mirror shimmered back into normalcy. She stowed it back inside of her dress with a sigh. She could only hope that the fight left in Eiurin would last--she needed every ounce of it in order for all of them to escape safely.

She stepped towards the machine, fingers skimming over the control panel. It would only take a few minutes to set up, hopefully, everything would be coordinated...

---

---

That whelp of a princess had been gone quite awhile now. The king absently glanced at the clock overhead--getting some fresh air didn't take as long as this. But that girl was a frail one and this was her first time attending. He licked his lips as he gazed in a demented sort of adoration at the events unfolding before him. Ah, the smell of blood, the clashes of weapons, metal, flesh--everything about the Battle Royale was simply wonderful. But... even though he was satisfied with the gore... it was taking too short of a time.

The flawed this year were more powerful than he had given them credit for being. They were wiping out their enemies with more ease than he had anticipated. He couldn't afford to have this match go by this quickly--unforgivable, inexcusable! He reached out, grabbing a handful of his assistant's shirt and pulling the man down. The man stuttered at the sudden force, falling to his knees as the king looked at him coldly.

"You, report down to the mid-level of the basements and bring out the other flawed." The assistant paled a bit, blinking several times and nervously trying to stutter out a response.

"A-Are you sure, sir? T-They were not reported as ready, Sir G-Gargarin said--" He was cut off as the king pushed him forwards, the man toppling on to the ground roughly.

"I don't care what that madman said. I am ordering you to go release the experiments... and then tell that crazed scientist of mine to release my flawed... once the experiments have experienced a few kills." The assistant quivered, getting to his feet rapidly and bowing as he practically bolted from the stands. The king was always such a cruel man! It was frightening having to be in his presence... The assistant proceeded to the elevator, taking it down to the mid-levels of the basement as he was ordered. There were a few scientists stationed around, one of them glancing up at his approach.

"What are you doing down here? Surely the king can't be..."

"I'm afraid he wants them released." The assistant confirmed with a grim expression.

"But they are not ready! The experimental flawed have not received all the training they should've, they are not set to be released until the next royale..." The assistant shook his head. He felt the same way but no one dared disobey the king. Not a single one of them.

"He ordered it to be done. Release them into the arena." The scientist sighed in resignation, opening the door and leading the assistant inside. There were many children behind the bars, looking battered and abused.

"As you can see, these are definitely not ready... but there are a few, one in particular that should strike interest for him..." The scientist trailed off as they came to stand outside a holding pen. There was a woman inside with silver hair, though he could not see her face due to the grim lighting. The assistant didn't spare her much of a glance, only nodding.

"Then those few will have to do." The scientist nodded, moving to the control panels to release the few flawed and summoning up some steambots to escort them to the arena. Whatever the king was hoping for, it wouldn't be a pretty sight...

Quinn Sari

Dirt kicked up around him as he twisted in a sharp round-house that took down the taller flawed before him. Without stopping, he flapped his wings and launched up into the air. Quinn let his body fall back onto the man's neck, effectively snapping it and taking out yet another flawed. The numbers were dwindling as the group either fought together or individually. He had already taken out two groups of paired teams and several individuals. He could feel sweat along his brow and body as he fought, the heat building as he moved. Even so, he wasn't in the least tired, reserving his energy quite well; a trick that he'd learned a long time ago.

Quinn spotted his next target and opened his wings fully. Crouching down he pushed off with his boots and flapped his wings hard three times to gain speed. He pulled up at the last second and swung his body around so that he could land a hard blow to the man's stomach with his leg. The flawed doubled over from his attack and he wasted no time. Twisting again he hit the flawed a second time, this one taking him to the ground. With his wings extended he let the mutation along his body activate and the feathers pulled free from him and launched at the flawed on the ground. In a matter of seconds the man was nothing but a pin-cushion.

The sickening feeling of his silver mutation spreading deeper into his skin almost made him throw up, but he bit back the sour taste and quickly let the mutation fade away so that it would not over take him. A hard grip took hold of his upper arm from behind him and he was surprised to find that he'd been targeted so quickly. A second later and he ground his teeth for being so careless, of course he'd be targeted he just took out most of the flawed in the arena. His body was flung then, tossed like a rag doll. He twisted in the air and landed on his feet where he skidded across the dirt, one hand reaching forward to brush the ground to help stop his sliding.

Once he stopped he looked up to see who had tossed him. It was a rather large flawed that had attacked him, metal sprouting from different parts of his body, giving him a ghoulish look. He shambled over to Quinn who felt his gaze ever rising to meet the giant's beady black eyes. He narrowed his yellow eyes at the flawed before him, his wings twitching ever so slightly. The flawed lunged forward, swinging his arms as they were his weapons. The metal slashed out at Quinn who quickly back stepped and began dancing backwards to avoid the surprisingly fast strikes from his opponent.

Quinn barely avoided another deadly blow, even so the sharp metal cut along his side, thankfully the side that wasn't covered with the silver mutation. It burned painfully and he winced, missing another attack and thus getting his shirt torn open and more blood spilled. Now his mutation was visible, the black shirt that he'd worn torn open in several places from the many spikes that the flawed before him sported and struck him with. Blood covered his pants and the strips of shirt that remained from the attack. Quinn glowered at the man and continued moving backwards, his plan then to bait the flawed to the field of energy behind them. Mindlessly the flawed followed him as he ducked, bent backwards and evaded nearly every slash and thrust that he threw at Quinn.

Breathing heavily, Quinn snapped his wings opened as he could feel the burning energy field right behind him. He feigned a duck to the left and then flapped his wings hard to the right to bring himself to the side and then adjusted his wings to skid around the flawed to behind him. The flawed followed him, but Quinn already had won. Without warning, he lunged at the man and barreled into him. Quinn's wings flapped hard to keep the momentum up and the flawed he had grabbed onto slammed into the barrier. Quickly releasing him, Quinn stepped backwards to get out of the devastation zone. The flawed screamed as the energy field tore through him, lit up like a bright blue bulb.

Quinn's chest heaved as he watched the large man slowly topple over, burned to a black crisp. His own hands were burned as well, having only briefly touched the barrier when he'd shoved the flawed into it. Slowly, his eyes lifted to the stands where the King was seated, watching with a sick smile twisted on his lips. Quinn's eyes narrowed in defiance and he turned to take on the next flawed. As the numbers were dwindling he was now facing some of the strongest flawed there. He noted the woman with metal wings that had snapped at him earlier. Now was as good as anytime to fight her.

Quinn angled himself towards her and then lunged forward, his wings propelling him forward as fast as he could go. He was upon the woman and her target in a matter of seconds and twisted in mid air to strike at her with a sharp kick.

Vier T'sker

There was movement around her and she was completely confused as to what was going on. The scientists seemed agitated as they moved around the room and her cage. She sat there with her armor on, wondering why exactly she'd been told to put the metal over her body. Not that it did much, though. She didn't need a lot of it, a chest piece to cover her vital area and then a pair of bracers along her fore arms. The bracers were unique to her though, as they were made especially for her ability. Inside the bracers against her skin were three sharp pieces of metal. Twist her arm the right way and they would cut into her skin just enough to draw blood.

It was the whole reason for her not to bear a weapon of any kind. Her blood was her weapon as she could shape it into curving blades attached to her body. She'd been practicing for battle for some time, but even so she wasn't very good at it and her manipulation of her own blood was minimal at best. Vier doubted that she could survive in a fight for more than a few minutes, depending on her opponent.

She was brought out of her gloomy thoughts as her cage was suddenly moved. Standing, Vier went to the bars before her and looked out. What was going on? She didn't voice her question though, knowing full well that she wouldn't get an answer. Even if she did ask, was she so sure she wanted to know? Vier pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and nibbled on it. Her heart pounded in her chest. Was she to fight now? That couldn't be right! She wasn't ready! None of the new experiments were ready! The King... the King was mad. Of course he was mad. Everyone knew that.

Vier shook her head to settle her thoughts as she was moved to a platform not to far from where she'd been at. Once the cage was attached to the platform, a sharp sound filled the air and a shudder followed. She stumbled slightly as the floor shifted and she felt herself lifted upwards. She passed between a thick portion of earth before she could see again and what met her eyes made her gasp slightly. The arena was littered with the dead, and only a few of them were left standing. The fighting was still going and she was about to be released into it. This meant that those that still stood were the strongest out of the entire group. Vier shook slightly.

She wasn't going to stand a chance against them. Vier started backwards, her steps bringing her to the back of the cage as the bars lifted slowly. Her vision dimmed slightly as she gazed out into the carnage. A black circle began to form around the corners of her vision giving her tunnel vision and she felt as if she were going to pass out at any second. After a moment she felt a pulse along her back and realized that the cage had turned against her. Vier stumbled forward, the slight shock to her body waking her. There was no choice, she had to enter the arena. Taking a deep breath she stepped out into the dirt and blood. For a few moments, no one noticed her, but then as one flawed fell, the one who killed the woman locked eyes on her and grinned maliciously.

Vier's heart raced as she watched the man lung at her. She didn't move, taking the direct hit that knocked her backwards. She hit the ground and flipped over herself. Laying on her stomach she could feel the burning from the punch that had connected with her abdomen. The man wasted no time and came at her again. Vier rolled on pure instinct and avoided the attack. Getting to her feet, she lifted her eyes to her new opponent. Twisting her arms, she felt the metal cut into her skin underneath the bracers. The blood began to flow and with a bit of concentration she managed to create three thin blades that came out from under the bracers. Only then did she prepare herself for a fight to the death. Vier waited until the man lunged at her a second time and she jumped forward, swinging with her arms that were now equipped with her blood-blades. In a single swipe, she'd aimed for his jugular and he fell behind her, gurgling on his own blood.

Turning, Vier watched him. A moment later her eyes widened at the realization that she'd killed someone. Her body shook slightly, but she forced the shock aside as best she could. There was no time for this. She had to survive, there was nothing else to it. Treat it like your training, she thought to herself. These people were not real... they were not real... they were not real...

---

---

"Oi, what the hell?!" Eiurin bit her lip as she jumped backwards, skidding a bit on the ground before she was able to catch her balance again. She had been focusing on her opponents, vaguely keeping an eye on the other flawed who had made it as far as she. Somehow, the small group of ragtag fighters had made it. Tch, too bad one of them hadn't died--it would've made the coming job a tad easier. Sure, she had anticipated a handful of them. But not this fucking field day that was occurring out here.

She swore again under her breath as she observed the fact of not one but two new arrivals, both female. The silver-haired chick looked like she hadn't seen a day of battle in her life and that other one seemed to just be going through motions to defend herself. Whatever the case was, their presences were totally unwarranted and were causing frustration.

As she sliced into yet another opponent, the white-haired vixen growled. Honestly, when she had signed up for this mess, she was pretty sure she hadn't signed a "well sure, do what the fuck ever and why not throw in about a dozen other unwanted problems while I save your sorry ass" contract with the princess. No, she had volunteered an "I will kill stuff while you save people and then I'll be done with your stupidity" agreement which apparently was not turning out well at all. Why dd things always have to go abysmally wrong?

"Poufy skirts!" She projected her words towards the princess, glancing quickly at her claws to make sure that the blue-haired royal could hear her. "I hope you are a fast thinker 'cause shit's probably about to blow up in your face."

There was an intake of breath from the other line and then the nervous voice of the princess. "What do you mean...?" Eiurin gave an exasperated sigh as she kicked one of her opponents to give some distance between them.

"What do you think I mean, dumbass? Your plan, I hope it's adaptable and you better start that crap up real soon. There's some other broads down here and I ain't gonna be accountable for 'em." She heard a shuffling motion very faintly, though it was hard to make out over the sounds of battle. There was another pause, a long one at that (or perhaps it seemed that way because she was fighting, whatever) before the girl spoke up.

"I don't understand... there wasn't supposed to be anyone else... I-I..." Eiurin took the time out to lift one of her clawed digits to her face just so she could glare into the metal.

"Oh no, don't you chicken out on me! I've got enough shit to deal with and this is ALL your fault anyway. So you better damn well take responsibility and do something right now. Or my foot is going to be shoved so far up your ass that--"

"O-Okay, okay!" The reply was hurried, just as Eiurin had predicted. Ugh. No backbone, that girl. She'd definitely have to teach her some courage at some point. Well, if that shy prissy-pants didn't die first in all the pandemonium. She had made a bet before she came here about that.... Eiurin cut off communications as she re-focused on the battle at hand, flicking her gaze to one of the four pillars that stood at the outermost corners of the arena. Too much time had passed--it was now or never.

---

---

Liandre nervously put the mirror down, her petite form shaking from what she had just been told. There was no way she could've miscalculated, she had snatched a list of all the flawed in this year's tournament before it all began! Everyone was supposed to be accounted for, the machine only had enough steam power to transport the numbers she had predicted. But now... but now these two additional people... She couldn't merely leave the flawed behind but that meant that not everyone was going to make it through! And then what--what was she supposed to do? All her plans would fail if she didn't at least...

No, she couldn't think like that! She had to be strong--she had to believe in the cause she was fighting for! If she didn't, then no one else would and she was the only one that would be able to save them. Two more wouldn't make a difference, she'd succeed! With her renewed confidence, Liandre changed the interface on the machine to a holographic projection of the arena. The four pillars were highlighted in orange, indicating that the barrier was fully functional. If she remembered the sequence correctly, she would have to slide this bar to the left and then...

She fiddled with the controls, adjusting each knob and each setting slightly so that the changes wouldn't be overly noticeable. She had to do everything gradually, just stay focused on the task at hand! She nodded to herself, fingers hovering over the last of the controls. Well, she could only hope everyone was ready. And with that, she took a deep breath and slid the interface all the way to the right. All at once, the holograms of the pillars glowed a bright yellow before dissipating into a white-ish hue. It only took a few seconds but they faded into a monotonous color, the orange of the barrier fading with them.

Outside, she could already hear the yells but she tried her best to ignore them. Already she was changing screens, tiny fingers moving about to start up the machine that would take them to the parallel world. It was all on Eiurin now and hopefully the woman would remember the directions she gave on how to get to the laboratory. The flawed had already been here before so thankfully, it wasn't anything new. Liandre furrowed her brows--she could only pray everything was going to turn out okay.

---

---

Motherfuckers.

Eiurin had been so wrapped up in the conversation with the princess that she hadn't been paying attention to that one asshole. The one that had just cleanly connected a kick to her stomach. That stupid piece of... The force of the blow knocked her to the ground and she spat out the sand that had flown into her mouth upon contact. Yuck! That was just plain nasty. And who did this arrogant jerk think he was anyway?! No one just hit her and got away with it. She got up quickly, glaring at him as her wings spanned out. She was going to cut him into little tiny pie--

"I've had enough!" A loud yell drew her enraged stare from the boy upwards to the stands. The king was on his feet looking absolutely beside himself. He had the microphone he used earlier up to his mouth and he screamed into it. "Release my champion this instant! Don't let any of them escape!" Oh well, sucks for him, that was exactly what they were planning. Hey, what was that idiot over there doing? The flawed frowned at the monk who somehow (even though she was pretty sure his code was the most retarded of all) was still alive. Oh jeez. They really let the ball drop on the survivors.

A few more shouts and she looked away from the others, narrowing her eyes. Her hand clenched in a fist as a low rumbling filled the arena, the ground shaking beneath her feet. At the far wall, a gate was rising, a guttural and primal growl sounding from behind it. Before the gate was even fully open, a creature of annoying size bounded through, tearing the metal to bits as if it was nothing. It was misshapen and contorted, as if it had been warped beyond comprehension. It bellowed in rage and swiped at the nearest flawed.

From the looks of it, those poor bastards were dead the instant it hit them. Well this was just fan-fucking-tastic. Honestly, the barriers were down already, this was just... pointless jibber jabber. The creature, however, did not seem as fascinated by the flawed as perhaps the king would've hoped. It soon turned around, noticing those in the audience that had not yet moved. It yelled, throwing itself into the crowd and demolishing a large section of the concrete.

Whooooooa shit. She wouldn't want to have to fight something as ugly as that thing--it'd be kind of sad to have to kill it anyway. It was sort of doing her job for her. It was no lie or well kept secret that Eiurin had been fantasizing about how to kill every single one of the audience members before this whole thing was through. Whatever, it was providing the perfect distraction anyway.

"Oi, idiots!" She called out to the few surviving finalists. "Ya gonna stand there gawking? Come with me if you want to--fuck it. Just get the hell over here or I'll slice you to pieces." She ended with a rather menacing smile, particularly in the direction of the young priestess. No one ever said she had to play nice with them anyway. All she had to do was lead them to where the princess was waiting. She'd get to go back to her world and things would be back to normal.

That was what was going to happen, damn it, and she was not allowed to let a few unexpected events totally ruin her efforts.

Quinn skidded to a halt after landing the kick on her. He flapped his wings a few times to slow his forward momentum and watched her spit out the dirt in her mouth and get back to her feet. She opened her own wings and looked to be very pissed off, threw some curses at him and was about to attack when the King interrupted. Both looked up towards the crowd where the man was at, spouting his anger about the fighting and then calling upon something to be released.

A frown worked it's way onto his stoney features as he was trying to figure out what it was the King was talking about. He didn't need to wait long though as the room rumbled, shuddering as a door opened an a monstrosity emerged. His eyebrows came down as he twisted around completely to face the new threat. Quinn watched as it attacked the spectators, the sick audience who thought that these 'games' were entertaining. For a mere moment, the flawed thought about letting it rampage around the arena without stopping it, but that didn't seem to be the interests of the girl he'd just attacked.

"Oi, idiots! Ya gonna stand there gawking? Come with me if you want to--fuck it. Just get the hell over here or I'll slice you to pieces."

An eyebrow arched as he turned to regard her coldly. Did she really think that they were going to go help her? "Like hell I'm going with you," he muttered angrily.

If anything he would fight the damned thing on his own without anyones help. Brushing her off completely, Quinn rushed ahead of her. His wings snapped open and they pumped several times against the air, lifting him slightly off the ground. He shot towards the monster quickly, preparing to use his ability as he went.

When he was close enough, he allowed the mutation to activate. The sickening feeling spread through him and almost dropped him. Having been injured earlier, it wasn't helping that the silver spread across the cuts too. He manipulated it to sharpen his feathers and launched a barrage of the projectiles at the creature. The beast turned around, it's attention on him once the feathers hit their mark.

Quinn was unsure if they had done what he wanted them too, though he was thinking not because the damned monster was still moving. He moved quickly, rolling off to the side as the thing swung down at him. The ground shuddered from the impact, dust and rocks flying upwards. The flawed, temporarily blinded from the dirt, turned on his heel and aimed upwards to where he thought the creature was at. Another launch of sharpened feathers flew forth. Quinn quickly dropped the activation though as it was beginning to burn too much, making his stomach sick.

The dirt began to settle and the creature was far too close for Quinn to avoid. He almost never would have seen the attack coming. The beast had turned swiftly when Quinn had launched the feathers and was swinging it's arm down at him a second time. It was far too fast for him, especially since he hadn't seen it. The crushing weight was sure to have broken one far less sturdy than the flawed, even so, Quinn was sure it broke something. He went hurling backwards, his wings unable to do anything to stop himself this time and he slammed into the wall from where the beast had emerged.

Hitting his head fairly hard, he was heavily dazed as he fell to the ground limply. The taste of blood filled his mouth as he hit the ground on his stomach. Quinn pulled his arms towards his body to push himself up. However, he only got partway off the ground before he fell back down, his body losing consciousness.



She'd killed her third flawed, her body moving in rythm with her breathing. A trick she'd taught herself while training. It seemed to help her movements, making them smoother and less jerky. It also helped that she was imagining the people she killed to be mere fantasies. They were not real to her, and that allowed her to continue fighting and not freeze up. However, that was broken with the King's loud voice breaking over the arena in livid rage.

She startled, stopping midway from tearing apart a young girl who stared at her in horror and shock. The girls eyes were pleading as she watched Vier. Vier pulled away, her own eyes shimmering with the shock of what she'd been doing. How easily she'd lost herself in the imaginary visions of her own mind. As if to call her back to the real world a second time, the ground shook and a giant flawed entered the arena. Perhaps 'flawed' was the wrong word. It was a monster, ugly and gigantic in proportions. A nightmare amongst the nightmare she was already living.

A shout across the arena got her attention and she noted another flawed yelling out to the others that were staring at the creature just like she had been. The girl had metal wings and beside her was a boy with wings too. He looked the worse for wear though, already bleeding with is shirt torn open. A flash of silver caught her gaze as he shifted and suddenly left the woman flawed side. Vier watched in amazement as the boy took on the monser by himself without waiting for anyone else.

Vier, on the other hand, couldn't move for the longest time as she watched. Then, just as she thought that maybe the young man had the upper hand and could actually kill the creature, her hopes were crushed. He took a hit full on, swiped off the ground literally. He felt flying through the air and crashed into the wall behind where the beast had come from. The sound of his body hitting the wall made Vier wince, it was a terrible sound and she was hardly surprised that he couldn't get back up.

It was then that she rushed across the arena and stood next to the winged girl's side. Her eyes were wide with fear as she looked back at the creature. She had to do something though. The boy had, after all... Her heart hammered in her chest as she looked back to his still form. Was he even alive after that? Vier shook her head, she had to think he was. Or maybe it was better that he'd died. That way she wouldn't have to kill him when they finished here.

"What do you need?" Vier asked the girl breathlessly. She hardly knew what to do against this thing aside from charging in and that hadn't worked, obviously. Vier hoped that the flawed next to her had a better plan than that.

Taran had nearly ran off on his own, but at the last second, he knew that it would be incredibly stupid to try and break out on his own, and even if he did have the power, he could hardly leave all the others here. “United we stand, and all that I suppose.” He muttered to himself as he glanced around wondering what they should do.
Considering the cause of the walls dropping was unknown, they could restart at any time so the best immediate course of action would be to get out of their boundary as quickly as possible. Before he could move, he heard a shout from the King, "I've had enough! Release my champion this instant! Don't let any of them escape!"

“Champion?” Taran spoke aloud. “How interesting.” His expectations were exceeded when the monster revealed itself. Impatient, it tore the opening gate apart as if the mighty metal bars were nothing more than tinfoil. As it lumbered forward, Taran began to feel incredibly uneasy. "Oh my, this certainly does not bode well." There was something about this abomination that was not quite right. It was far different than the other twisted creations that came from whatever hellish pit the King had produced them. This one seemed to have actual power. Not just strength and savagery, although he could sense much of that as well. Altogether, even he would avoid fighting it if at all possible.

Fortunately, that decision would have to be put off as the golem like creation apparently preferred to take on the audience instead of the Flawed who at that point should be focused on escaping. Speaking of which, a voice called out, snapping his thoughts back to the present. "Oi, idiots! Ya gonna stand there gawking? Come with me if you want to--fuck it. Just get the hell over here or I'll slice you to pieces."
Taran could not help but smile. At least someone else had their priorities in order. Unlike that rude one from before who refused to give his name. He just charged past the girl and attacked the beast. Taran knew it would not end well, and it was only a few moments before his fears were confirmed. He darted forward as fast as he could, knowing the thing was going to strike another blow at the boy’s now unconscious body. As soon as he was in range, Taran used his power to start pulling the boy toward him thought they were a hundred meters apart from each other, Taran was still able to use his gravitational ability to move the boy enough to get him out of the way from the next strike. This was difficult in that it was almost impossible for him to directionalize his own gravity generation, so it must have been affecting other people as well. Even so, he tried his best to only pull what was directly in front of him. As he got closer, the boy dragged across the ground faster until Taran could pick him up and throw him over one shoulder.

Looking to the girl who called out from before, he saw that another girl had joined her. They looked very different, and he could not help but appreciate for a moment, the contrast between the two. ”Odd the things you notice when your impending doom is crashing down upon you.” he noted to himself before returning his attention to the creature. “Blast it all.” He lamented, now noticing that the thing was none too happy about Taran stealing away its prey. “I really should not have saved you.” He commented to the unconscious body hanging over his shoulder. “But nothing to do about it now, except finish the job.” He tossed the body into the air, and reversed his personal gravity to send the winged boy flying towards the two girls, hoping they would take care of him. Probably not, but one could hope.

Less than a second later, he leapt into the air, dodging a crushing fist that crashed into the ground from above. He landed on the fist and ran up the length of the arm. Reaching the top, he jumped, and spun around delivering a powerful axe kick to the side of the creature’s head. With the same momentum, he pushed off the thing’s face, and landed on the ground several feet away. It was not until he landed that he saw the creature had not so much as moved. “This is not going to be a fun fight…. Is it?” he asked the thing, not really expecting an answer.

Deciding to change tactics, he went on the offensive. His staff had been on his back for quite some time, but now he unfortunately needed it. He drew it out quickly, and in the same movement, darted forward. Running to the beast, he zigzagged, dodging all of the direct blows the thing delivered, but none of the debris. As he drew closer, he started slashing at the things ankles with his Naginata. He tried weaving between the two feet and tripping up the beast, throwing him off balance, but he had no such luck. After only two slashes (which did not do so much as scratch the skin) the Creature was able to predict his movement, and kicked him away. His body hit a wall with an impact great enough to crumble the stone. Even Taran, and his super dense body could not fully withstand such a powerful blow. He slowly got to his feet on shaky legs and focused on breathing as deliberately as was possible. He did not have much time, the thing would be on him in a few seconds at the most. Even if he could defeat this monster, it would take far too long. He needed to get out of there. Sticking the Naginata in the ground for the time being, he grabbed four boulders from the wall in his arms. He jumped again into the air, and landed on the thing’s knee. As soon as he landed, he was back in the air jumping to its shoulder, then again to the top of the things head, and one final jump straight into the air as high as he could. Once he reached the pinnacle of his trajectory, he threw the four boulders down, pushing them as hard as he could with both his arms, and personal gravity. They all hit the ground at approximately the same time, and exploded from the force of the impact, causing a dust cloud to rise up around the thing several meters in every direction. Using the massive dust cloud as cover, he pushed himself to the side with his gravity, and landed by his Naginata. “Forgive me, but I have no intention of dying right now.”

Running over to the girls and the boy he stopped, “My apologies, friends, I wanted to come straight away, but I had to escape the…… Thing’s attention first.” Then turning to the smaller girl, who was barely dressed, he spoke, “You wanted us to gather here? I am assuming that is because you have a plan on escaping. One that I am most interested in, I’m sure.”

---

---

How come no one listened when she called out to them? Stupid idiots! The winged boy had been the first offender, running off and doing his own thing but (of course) got his ass whooped within seconds. Knocked out cold, that ridiculous moron. The silver haired female was smarter than him, though, and immediately had come to Eiurin's side with a thoughtful light in her eyes.
"What do you need?" It came out a bit breathlessly but it still seemed genuine. The metal flawed rolled her golden eyes and placed her hands on her hips as she observed the group.

"Not until the other dumbasses get over here... not sure what the hell they are thinking." She grumbled, none too quietly for that matter. Eiurin had no qualms about insulting someone as loudly as she wished and if they were offended, well, sucks to be them! The monk seemed equally as stupid as the winged boy for he had willingly gone into the fight to retrieve the unconscious dead weight.

Really, was this some kind of pity play or some shit? They had places to be, literal PLACES to be, and this idjit right here was going around and saving some guy who had abandoned the main group to be a selfish jerk. And then once he picks him up, the monk goes and tries to continue attacking the large beast! Were these guys incapable of even THINKING properly? Ugh.

The boy soon learned how futile his efforts were and, after throwing a distraction a ways from them to call off the creature's attention, returned to the small ragtag group of flawed with a shake of his head. “My apologies, friends, I wanted to come straight away, but I had to escape the… Thing’s attention first. You wanted us to gather here? I am assuming that is because you have a plan on escaping. One that I am most interested in, I’m sure.” Eiurin rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.

"Yeah yeah, save the sucking up speech for later. First of all, I'm not your friend so don't get the wrong idea!" She hissed at him with narrowed eyes. "Only doing this bullshit because miss prissy-pants wanted to save all you dumbasses or whatever..." She frowned, glancing over at the stands nearest them.

"Anyway, with that thing causing problems for the audience, we'll have time to make our escape. Pretty sure that fuck-up of a king ain't gonna be keepin' his eyes on us with all that destruction." She smirked a bit, as if amused by the fact of the carnage. Eiurin hadn't grown up in a casual environment. She was used to freak accidents and murders--stuff like this was partially run-of-the-mill for her. Though the enemies where she came from weren't exactly as tall as that giant of a flawed.

"It's best if we stick together from here on out. Just to make it clear, I've got NO responsibility if you die on the way. I'm only going to bring us to where the princess is waitin'. So each man for himself, what the fuck ever." She ended on a shrug and flicked a bit of hair out of her eyes.

Without further ado, the girl was already scampering up the wall with ease and lifting herself into the first row of the stands. She raised her arm and waved a bit to signal to the others to follow her. No matter how much of a distraction that large flawed was providing, if they didn't move fast, the opportunity would be lost. She was certain, judging from what Liandre told her, that the king had ways of controlling his champion. And she sure as hell wasn't going to stick around to find out how.

"I've had enough! Release my champion this instant! Don't let any of them escape!"

The voice echoed throughout the arena, powerful and commanding. She looked up towards where the King stood, his face contorted in rage. She shivered despite herself, she was feeling weary even though she knew she wasn’t drained but it was still hard. She’d killed another three flawed since entering the arena, her skin was grazed, cut and bruised as well covered with splodges of blood from the fighting, but she wasn’t ready to give up just yet. However the sight of this ‘Champion’ charging into join them caused her to stop for a moment, a sliver of fear etched in her heart before she clamped down on it hard and regained her composure. She was watching with interest

"Oi, idiots! Ya gonna stand there gawking? Come with me if you want to--fuck it. Just get the hell over here or I'll slice you to pieces."

Another voice called out, another flawed attempting to take control of the situation from what she could understand. Clearly someone who thought themselves the leader of those flawed who flocked to her commanding voice or at least tough enough to demand that they be made their leader. Eve wasn’t sure what to make of her but either way if she had some way out of this it looked like her best bet. But if that turned out to be a dead end she’d make sure to wipe that smug smile off her pretty face. Maybe using a knife if needs be. She chuckled darkly to herself for a moment before she felt more than thought of a pair of eyes looking disapprovingly at her which caused her to clutch her metal tags tightly for a moment as she chastised herself for the sadistic thought.

She looked around the arena, seeing what others were doing in response to the girls cry and finding that not many of the Flawed remained and that those who did appeared to have reached a simiar conclusion, if they wanted to make it through this then sticking together might be their only chance. She turned back towards the 'Champion' to watch it ripping into the stalls, devouring those too slow or foolish to break and run; including, much to her pleasure, many of the guards and wardens with their blasted steambot. Her face was turned into a joyful, yet lopsided grin at their brutal deaths which bordered on a smirk which faded slightly when she saw one of the remaining flawed run almost suicidally to engage the foul creature causing her brow to furrow in puzzlement. As it turned to meet him one of the guards beneath its claws was thrown like a chew toy across the arena, smashing the man’s skull against the curve of the wall nearest her. She darted towards him, and began to raid his body for anything useful beyond his armour since that while what he was wearing was clearly durable and useful she was already protected in that regard from her own before this had begun and his armour would have likely been more of an encumbrance anyway.

Her quick search yielded several curved knives slotted into his belt at regular intervals which she unlocked and wrapped the belt around her waist; a simple yet masterful longsword which was slotted into one of a pair of back mounted scabbards, the second being strangely empty; as well as the remains of his halberd which was now several splintered bits of wood, one particularly jagged bit she picked up and impaled it hard into the man’s chest causing a single tear to run down her cheek before she regained control. She didn’t have time to let go yet.

Having already locked the knifebelt into place she unbuckled the scabbards and swung them over her shoulders, chuckling at what she decided was a reassuring weight resting there. All of this had happened in a few moments and when she glanced back towards the ‘Champion’ she could see the body of the foolish boy who had attacked it now lying close towards the girl who’d demanded they follow her while another boy with a bloodied spear, oriental in its design, appeared to have retreated towards her from the direction of the creature. Eve began to run towards this group when she caught sight of the other sword from the guard’s, well now hers, pair lying in the sand nearby. Picking it up and testing its weight as she sprinted towards the others she couldn’t help but smile to herself.

As she arrived she caught the back end of what appeared to be another insult laden rant intended to secure her role as leader to those around her, given that they were battered and weary and she appeared cool and collected. But either way it didn’t matter much. Eve smiled as she listened to the girl’s vocabulary of insults appearing to grow as she’d turned it towards all of them rather than the spear wielding boy and the someone passive girl with her. As she swore once again to illiterate her point to them Eve almost rolled her eyes in exasperation but just about managed to stop herself. She watched the girl make a break for the wall and climb to the top with ease, and was about to follow herself when she remembered the unconscious boy near her feet. She could leave him and get out but once again she could feel those silent eyes staring disappointedly at her.

Damn. Damn. Damn. She grumbled inside her head.

What should she do? Try to wake him or try to carry him? Either way didn't sound the best.

(Collab post between Jed and I, much thanks to Jed :) )

Taran looked at the girl in confusion, he had no idea what he had done to offend her, and hoped to still the waters between them. Picking up the feathered boy, he looked at the other girl. “Greetings.” he smiled as warmly as he could, given the circumstances. Not waiting for a reply, he ran straight up the wall after the first girl, only using his hands when he go to the top. Setting they boy down, he turned around and waited to see if the girl needed assistance. ............. When she reached the top, he picked the winged boy back up on his shoulder and said, "I am called Taran. May I ask your name?" Smiling, his eyes were a glittering silver, glad to be finally leaving this place.

Vier watched as another man joined them and took off, gaining the creatures attention and retrieving the winged boy who'd gone and gotten himself hurt badly. She was still unsure if he was alive or not. When the man returned, he offered her a smile something that made her feel a bit odd because no one had ever smiled at her before. After telling her 'greetings' he picked up the winged boy that he'd thrown over to them earlier, and ran for the wall that the girl who'd taken charge leapt up.

Vier followed, intent on not being left behind and curious as to what the girl meant by her master wanting their freedom given to them. Or something like that. She ran towards the wall, scaling it with her eyes as she tried to judge how well she was going to be able to climb it. She didn't have wings or anything of the like. The man made it up easily enough even with the winged boy over his shoulder. For a moment she felt that she would be a burden, but tossed it aside. She had to get out of there. It was a dream for her to escape this life, a dream that was slowly coming true. Vier wasn't about to let it slip away.

She sped up, her blood blades were still active on her arms from her mutation and she used them to help her get up the wall when she couldn't run further up it. It only got her so far and she was more than thankful for the man turning to retrieve her. She'd lunged forward and he'd grabbed her, pulling her the rest of the way up. Her heart was in her throat, thoughts of what could have possibly happened if she'd not been helped up.

She panted slightly next to him as he introduced himself as Taran, "Vier. I'm Vier," she returned, "Thank you for helping me."

“It is a pleasure and an honor meeting you, Vier. And please do not thank me.” Taran chuckled as he ran after the smaller girl with a bad attitude. “Was I supposed to leave you to do it on your own? What if you had not made it to the top by yourself? That would have been the same as leaving you to die. I might as well have killed you if that were the case.”

Vier chased after them, dropping her mutations activation. The blood blades sunk back under the cuffs around her arms. Thin trails of blood spilled forth and covered her fingers from the cuts that she'd made earlier to create the blades.

"I-I..." she was at a loss for words. How had he maintained his composure through everything? How had he kept such a kindness in the place they were all in just moment ago? Or maybe it was just a facade, something to use to get closer to others. Vier shuddered slightly, her eyes moving from his frame over to the smaller girl who was leading them.

"I'm sure others would have left me," she stated softly, "The boy... how is he? Is he... dead?" She asked wearily.

“Others do not have my Master to guide them.” He smiled back at her. Hearing her question, he looked at the boy. Not an easy task when running as fast as you can down a hallway. And the odd anatomy made it even more difficult. “I am unsure. He received quite the injuries.” Then, dividing his attention just as his Master taught him to in situations so his body would act on its own while his mind could think, he focused on feeling the boy’s body.

The first thing he noticed, was that the body -though unconscious- it was not heavy like a dead person was, and how the weight shifted felt different. He had picked up many bodies in the arena in the past, especially in group tournaments, where he could throw them at other contestants, and use them to hide, or as distractions. The second thing was that he could feel a very soft, gentle beating. It might have been his own heart, but since he had been running, his would probably be beating faster. “He does not carry like a corps, and I may feel his heartbeat.” He responded after a few minutes.

Vier let out a soft sigh, "I'm glad," the woman turned her attention to where they were going. She had no idea where the other girl was leading them, and she wasn't entirely sure if they were even going to make it out alive at all, "Where do you think we're going?"

“No idea.” He responded lightheartedly. “Although, she did say that she was taking us to ‘Miss Prissy-pants; and also referred to assumedly the same person as a princess. So my guess would be that we are about to meet royalty.” He had not put any thought into it before, but that practically screamed ‘TRAP!’ It was very well possible that they had been deceived, and were walking into an ambush. But that seemed unlikely, considering everything that had just happened. What would be the point of taking down the walls, sending out the champion, and luring them deep into the palace just to kill them there, instead of letting them all kill each other like they did every year? The whole situation was confusing, and Taran had no idea what to think of it. Was it even possible that one of the ROYALS was actually helping them? “So either a princess is actually helping us escape for some reason, or we are about to be killed.” He tried to say it in the same cheery tone that he had been using, but this was the first time his heart was not behind it. “In any case, I am confident that working in conjunction, you and I can make short work of whatever stands in our way, Vier. However, if worse comes to worst, I need to be confident in the faith I place in you. I need to know that you understand that we are no longer in the arena, and our only hope of another life is through cooperation. Is my trust misplaced?”

Vier felt a bit of a jump in her chest, her heart skipping a beat as she steadily kept pace with him the winged girl leading them. Was he perhaps hinting at the fact that together they would be more powerful? That together they wouldn't have anything to worry about? That with him he would protect her, so long as she did the same for him too? It was a jump to say the least in situations, but Vier couldn't help but want to agree with it. After all, she wasn't the strongest fighter, she was timid to say the least and his personality (if it wasn't all an act) was oh so appealing to her.

"No, your trust is not misplaced," she responded softly, the words barely escaping her lips as she thought of their situation, "Thank you... again." She muttered as she followed them. Well, if anything she figured that together with him no matter if the princess they were going to see was to harm or help them, they would make it through. They had to. Not after just gaining their freedom. It would be a damned pity to lose it all so easily right at the beginning.

Despite her indecision the choice was made for her as the boy with the spear knelt and hefted the unconscious one over his shoulder and nodded towards the other member of their group who was still there in greeting before running towards the wall and climbing it with ease. Sighing softly to herself, somewhat relieved, she too made her way towards the wall; admittedly staying slightly distant from them as she wasn't entirely sure about any of them thus far, especially given that this 'Taran' appeared to have introduced himself to the other but not to herself. She watched the girl follow him without much difficulty having formed blades of a red liquid which... Was that blood? Somewhat intrigued she watched as the oddly compassionate boy reached down to help her to the top after which they spoke for a moment before following after the loud-mouthed girl.
Rather nice of them to offer to help.

Grumbling to herself, she checked the section of wall and noticed several points which would make decent enough handholds to get her up a few heartbeats later. After making sure that all of her newly acquired weapons were safely secured and placed within their scabbards and sheaths she made a running jump for the wall and climbed up, swinging from rocky-outcrop to crumbling stone. She was able to get her fingertips into the ridges of the stones and leaver herself to the top, collapsing for a moment as she saw the other two move onwards with the unconscious body swung over Taran’s shoulder.

“I knew there was a reason I hated other people.” She growled as she sped off after them.

As they ran further into the myriad tunnels of this place Eve tried to keep up with them as best she could while she listened into their conversation and was somewhat glad that the other boy was not dead. Even though she was beginning to feel that this boy was somewhat of an anomaly, perhaps even genuine with his concerns it bothered her greatly. Since after all every one of them was in this for themselves whether they wanted to be or not. It was the truth of the Royale. Part of her cynicism was cemented by the fact that his odd question of trust with the girl next to him sounded like testing the waters to see where people’s loyalties lay. Perhaps he was planning to usurp their guide when they reached their destination? It was hard to be certain but so far she doubted that any of them would be trustworthy, after all no one was.

Either way it was beginning to look that while today wasn’t likely to end in either her death or those of everyone else it may well boil down to something far worse. Especially given the roars and screams she could still hear behind them. Both of which appeared to be getting louder rather than dulling as they widened the distance. Not a good sign all things considered.

Luther was hurriedly digging through a pile of rubble whilst the Coliseum was trembling as the King’s twisted Champion tore into the monument of death with a veracity matched only by that of a feral beast cornered by its hunter, his hands caked with a mud mixed from shattered rock, sweat, and blood that was both his own and that of others’. No matter how fervently he dug the pile never seemed to end as he worked to reveal the body which belonged to a lone forearm clutching at the empty air for some way to break free from its prison, but before he could even bring the arm’s shoulder to light another tremor shook the stadium as the rampaging beast tore another chunk from its side. When the dust cleared Luther could still see the lonely forearm, now strangely clutching his cloak as it was freed not only from the rubble, but from its owner as well.

A wave of anger and frustration surged through Luther’s usually unruffled and jovial persona, as if it wasn’t bad enough that they had hundreds of Flawed murder each other every year the King had to go and cause this ruckus. Maybe it was not the King’s fault the shields were down, yet that monstrosity wreaking havoc upon everything with indiscretion was most definitely that power-hungry fool’s fault, but there was too little time to focus upon wrath at the moment. There were still hundreds, if not thousands, still in need of help, the situation did not look to be quieting down anytime soon, and by the sounds of things his assumptions were correct earlier. A chorus of fighting rang out from all around and Flawed from the Royale were quickly attempting to flee the battlefield, but whether for revenge or some other reason would only be known after they climbed past the rubble.

With the flick of a wrist the bruised and battered noble quickly drew his sabre as his adrenaline-fueled figure brought him to one of the numerous origins of conflict, finding several of the guards occupied with a small group of Flawed, and faring very poorly by the looks of things. No matter how well trained any of their soldiers may be the Flawed usually had the upper-hand, and it would still be some time before the Steambots could properly respond to all skirmishes taking place, but their priority would probably be the hulking beast tearing the stadium apart at the moment. Not that any of it really mattered at the moment, the reins of the situation would be brought securely into the military’s hand relatively soon and this mayhem would stop, all they had to do was hopefully stay alive until that happened.

Before he could assist any of his fellow countrymen though, a certain sight gave him pause, was that twice in one day? He could see Liandre’s Flawed, the scrumptious little-tart he wished could meet Nobunaga named Eiurin, working her way through the mayhem towards where the elevators were located, and it appeared as if a small group of Flawed was not far behind her either. A lightning bolt of recognition shot through the back of Luther’s mind, igniting the spark which had been smoldering there since earlier as he recalled some of the peculiar circumstances of the day. With a look of fierce determination on the noble’s face, enhanced by the ever-looming scar given to him by his father, Luther rushed as quickly as he could to the elevators, his station merited access to them but his father, prudent as always, refused to allow his son the privilege of its use on these days. This was most definitely a sour turn of events, and he was fearful of what the King would think about both his time spent with Liandre earlier today and his current absence from his Majesty’s presence at such an inopportune moment once the truth of the situation came to light, as it always seemed to do. Things were not all that horrendous though, if things were as they seemed, from his rather unique perspective at the least, then his beautiful lady Liandre was capable of planning-out extremely intricate plans, but hopefully his love had not bitten off more than she could chew, it would be such a tragic shame if he had to give his life to protect her from harm before even receiving a kiss from her sweet lips.

The tremendous force of another body colliding with his own soon side-tracked the noble from his intended destination as the individual flew into him from the side, sending the both of them toppling head-over-heels across the rough stone-floors of the hallway. After losing track of his sword Luther instinctively went to trying and grapple with his unknown enemy, forcing his fingers into the Flawed’s eyes before feeling a white-hot stabbing pain digging into his side. His hands quickly sought out anything nearby and found a decent sized rock within reach and bringing it swiftly up against the head of whomever or whatever he was fighting with at the moment. Before long the body soon grew limp, but that same searing pain was throbbing in Luther’s side, when he went to check the area he noticed a set of claws embedded deeply into his flesh, at least down to their second-knuckle. Luther set about tenderly removing the claws from his side, clamping his left-hand on the wound, and grasping his re-discovered sword in his right.

When he found the time to regain his bearings, doing his best to put the thought of searing pain and bleeding to death to the back of his mind, he looked back towards the elevator, or where the elevator should be. It was hard to tell if the group of Flawed was there or not with all the smoke and dust filling the air, his eyes squinting forcefully to try and make the scene out better, but to no avail. “Heh, might as well let them be off, I have other things which merit my attention, such as the Flawed who are obviously trying to kill the citizens and guards. I hope Liandre won’t be too disgusted by my appearance to merit our date after everything settles down.” His words trailed off with a weary-chuckle, filled more with the lingering dread of what was to never be than irony at his current predicament.