Rakka Sukai's Story

Rakka Sukai

Her muscles burned feverishly, tormenting her with every step she took. Why on earth did she hold herself back for so long? She queried to herself with no small amount of irritation, quickly rubbing up and down her damp skin with dirt-streaked fingers in an effort to sooth the fire below it as she was marched through the cold metal corridors of the surrounding underground to the arena.

God, she was stupid. Not showing off her abilities a single time? When did she start having scruples? Five opponents she had already gone through earlier today, and not a single lick of her actual powers, only using whatever small physical power she had. A particularly sharp twinge ripped through her calf as she walked, and she hissed, unable to stop it. The last opponent had taken quite a bit out of her, and she was definitely done with pulling off last-minute victories, especially since the opponent tore open the back of her dress...

Meanwhile, the Steambots were getting fairly impatient--As much as one could be impatient while not having an actual brain to speak of; one of them shoved her from the back with it's metal torso. "Easy boys," She drawled with as an unaffected voice as she could maintain, stumbling even so.


“Congratulations to our victor, Taran!” The announcer called, and so the Steambots pushed her to the front with a vengeance, jostling her from her thoughts. “Yet another victory for this long lived Flawed, you all had better enjoy him while you can, this will be his last year!”

"Oy!" She half-heartedly complained, shoving back at them as best as she was able, trying not to tear her dress further as she did so. "Give a girl space, alright? I'm going to slaughter the next poor bastard, so don't get funny ideas."

Surprisingly, the Steambots backed away as per her orders. Heart pounding in her confusion, she faced the doors. Something odd happening to her five minutes before a match started tended not to bode well. At least, in her experience. Sharply blowing out a breath, she forced herself to concentrate. She had to live first in the next hour at least or so before returning to thinking.

"Just as the soft rains fill the streams, pour into the rivers, and join together in the oceans, so may the power of Amitabha heal and give me strength..." She whispered in a dead language, pouring her strength into her muscles. Soon, she was glowing with more than just sweat; purification could also be translated into the strength of healing.

As the glow faded, she shook herself and walked into the blinding sun-filled arena, the burning of her muscles gone. Such were the perks of being a priestess.

But if the steambots were anything to go by, they would soon realize that she was a priestess and not just your ordinary Flawed. One more reason for her to die, but not the reason why she was adverse to showing it earlier. Her reasons were more obvious, and less so at the same time for that.

She flexed her fingers, smiling.

Rakka Sukai

B-bum. B-bum. B-bum. The dirt-covered ground shook beneath her, rattling her bones from where she stood.

Narrowing her eyes from the glare of the sun, Rakka steadied herself. Something was coming.
Something...big.

The other entrance's bronze archways were beginning to tremble from the sheer force of weight by now, and several people in the crowd above were beginning to mutter uneasily. Rakka didn't blame them, she was wondering herself what on earth her opponent was.

With a sudden roar, her opponent emerged from the dark metal cavern opposite and suddenly she was facing down one of the most horrific mutations she had ever seen, the Flawed standing being so huge it partially blocked out the sun from the sky.

Before her, she dazedly thought, stood something beyond the graces of humanity; something scarred and beaten and straight out of the science labs. It was quite possibly genderless, judging by the sheer amount of old damage it seemed to sustain. A collectively shocked gasp had went around the arena on it's initial appearance, confusing her. Wasn't this just another contestant? Didn't they recognize it?

No. Her eyes widened in sudden thought, her own conclusion startling her. No, this was likely an old contestant, warped for battle beyond recognition by all of the available brains in science.

A foot slammed down square inches from her, nearly squishing her where she stood. She scrambled backwards from it, furiously thinking. All other plans she could of made, like for her other opponents she had faced were gone. This was battle on an entirely new level; this was placing an ant with a giant in a hole. And...Oh.

Oh. Well. This was interesting. There was a chance of ah, being squishilated. Not by her, no---Not just her, but the crowds as well--And the royals.

Someone likely wanted them dead, and she wanted to know why.

And then there was no time to think, she threw herself down as a fist swung at her. "Hey! You! What the hell did they do to you?!" She called up, desperately wondering if the thing still had a mind that worked. Mindless rage was it's answer, unfortunately and she nearly got squished again by an outstretched hand for her trouble. "Okay, didn't work," She yelled again, bolting upright and dusting herself off rapidly. "Not a problem."

A whole gout of flames from the giant's mouth was it's answer, and she blinked, pinching out a lit-up bit of hair. "Are you a dragon or something, big man? Woah." It had taken out a bloody huge axe and was swinging it at her. "Hey, that's really not fair!"

Well, then again... She mused, dodging another swing of the gigantic axe. She'd never played fair in her life, and even her last five matches were proof of that, no matter how handicapped she was--And she wasn't limiting herself any longer. "Namu dai-shi henjo kozo, Namu dai-shi henjo kozo..." She began chanting, unwrapping the beads around her neck as she did. Ordinary buddhist monks in the old days would use the beads to count their chants, but her beads were not used for that purpose as often as she'd like.

Her body began to glow with an ominous light, and suddenly, faster than you could blink the day was gone--In it's place lay total, utter, blackened night, falling over the arena. The crowd began to panic, roaring with confusion like a many-headed beast. Lighting struck the ground of the arena, causing further confusion and chaos for the frightened crowd.

The Giant seemed merely confused, confused enough to stand still and not attack it's objective. Which truly suited her, really.

"Well then, big man." She grinned sharply, leering at her opponent. Raising her arms, little fireballs, spirits of the dead began to swarm her, appearing from the air and sinking into her glowing flesh. "Sorry."

Crouching, she leapt into the air--Higher than was possibly human, and punched her opponent. There was a moment, hanging slowly through time as she fell to the earth, light fading out of her.

And then, the air exploded with blood.

The basement was three floors above him. The royal asses, six. But still, the rumble of his latest creation could be heard. Dust and chemicals fell of the shelves. Granted, the chemicals were there only to make the room unsettling, but still, he'd have to clean up.

More rumbling. The creature was magnificient, much like the ones with the X-ray vision and the wolf-esque smell. Gargarin prided on his monsters being the best. They looked terrifying but were nary a threat. They were designed for a specific purpose. To make sure the battle went for long enough. They had barely any meaningful attacks. Everything these monsters did had to be flashy, to look good. They had a good defense, but the complimentary weak spot of each monster made them easy to fight against.

Gargarin looked at the man on the table. Around him were three cauldrons of molten iron. The rumbling stopped, as if on cue. Cheap thrills, he called them. The big monsters that were easy to kill. It had surely terrified the public. It had been specially made for its competitor. A short woman with no physical prowess. That is, until she used her finisher. She was, in all likeliness, gotten scared. And confused. That was important. He knew she could beat it easily with her move. It was her confusion that kept her from using the attack too early. The crowd were loving it, he was sure.

The door to his lab was kicked in with such force that the clamps broke and the door fell to the ground. It was better than last time, when the man who loved breaking Gargarin's doors kicked it. He went through the door and got stuck, the splinters destroying his leg. Thunk. Step. Thunk. Step. Thunk. Step.

"Come in, come in," Gargarin spoke with mock excitement. He hated the man. Truth be told, he hated everyone, everyone who stomped on his uniqueness. But, this man, this man was different. This bastard wore the same hat as Gargarin sometimes did, just to get on his nerves. Intrusion of uniqueness! Gargarin wanted the man on the operating table. He would make a nice monster. He was already mentally one.

"Why the fuck are they all dying so easily out there. The audience-"

"The audience are loving it. In any case, how long has the fights been going on? An hour? If I send in the big guns now, what will left for the Grand Finale?"

"They'll be bored till then."

Gargarin looked at the operating table. The man on the table was mostly dead. The injection worked perfectly. Soon, the serum would result in a monster. He had tweaked the serum for this man specially. The serum really worked well when what it was doing to the body matched with what the person always wanted. This man wanted the truth. The man on the operating table started screaming. In pleasure, thought Gargarin.

"How was the big guy?"

"Hmm... he scared the public, and the girl, I think. I thought he was going to kill her. But he just missed squashing a few times. And then, she made it night."

"Took in all the energy and super punched the monster."

"Yes, that. Did you make him miss on purpose?"

"Maybe." Gargarin looked at the man. The man wanted something badly. What was it? Just tell me, and I'll set you free.

"But," the man said, "we need something now. Something that'll kill one of the Fallen." He looked at the man- no, the monster- on the table. It was squirming around in pain. "What about this?"

"This here, is overkill. I don't wish to use him now. I'm saving him for Taran."

"Why didn't you create him before? Taran's match is up."

"Not for today. For Taran's last match. The King will proclaim that if Taran wins, he will get his freedom. Unfortunately, he'll die in the match."

The man studied the monster. It still looked human, but slowly the molten iron around the chair started moving towards the man's body. It would be beautiful, thought Gargarin.

"A man made of iron isn't going to beat Taran."

"Oh, you are right. One can only wonder what this beast can do to beat Taran, survivor and conqueror of many. The man, you see, is evolving. His brain, much like ours, has many parts. Parts for emotions, parts for understanding what the eyes see, parts for controlling the body. However, a lot of these parts are wasted on monsters like him. And so, instead of removing these parts, I have rewired them to his eyes and nose and ears. This man can see the future."

"The what?! The... the future?" the man was flabbergasted. Gargarin smiled. Even though he was weaker than the man, in this state of shock he could beat him. Then, he could turn him into a monster. He moved a step closer but before he could strike the man regained sanity and gave Gargarin a stone cold stare. Gargarin turned around and began writing down notes. Most of the iron had now covered the man on the table. Steam bellowed off the man's body, burning his skin. The man was still alive, and all thanks to the serum a torture method wasn't working.

"You see, a man can lie to another man, but not to his own body. The body does what it's told, so if a man lies to it, it will do something wrong. You may know that to move any part of the body, chemicals move from the brain to the body part. That is why the body does not move when you chop someone's head off. Well, this man can sense these chemicals. So, he will know what his opponent is thinking, what he is planning, everything."

The nobleman's assistant was impressed. He spoke, "Impressive. But still, I need something good right now."

Gargarin pointed at the door behind him, "Take your pick. I have already the monsters from the Finale upstairs for preparations."

Closing her eyes, she breathed in-out, content to hear the one-two-three thumping of her heart and the confused roar of the stands.

The Giant was likely just to force her hand. That, at least she knew, judging by the sheer size. "Well, Rakka Sukai has pulled off another win by the skin of her teeth! Though what this new power is from her, we do not know as of yet. Miss Sukai--" A short, angry whistle from pursed lips brought out a fireball from her still-glowing body. Plucking it from the air, she hurled it at the startled announcer, only for it to hit and sink into the microphone. "What-" Began the announcer, confused.

A little "Yee-hoo!" came out of the device, and slightly ominous smoke began pouring out of it.

Turning on her heel in the bloody mud with a squelch, and firmly ignoring the general confusion of the arena, she made her way out of the glorified sandbox of death, not waiting for her usual Steambot escort. Not that she ever did.

"Well, that was tedious." She muttered, raking a bloody hand through her hair as she went into the dark corridors, still glowing enough to give light on her own. "You were supposed to not really kill me. Big thing, fighting small thing--Never a good idea. Small things with brains usually win. And the powers help." Absently, she patted the blood staining the white of her dress. "That's not going to come out..."

She nodded shortly to the hulking presence of a white-haired flawed she was passing by. "Good luck," she wished him, then snapped her fingers. A little pulse of her own energy was made visible, floating before her before dying and fading in the darkness.

The signal was made, and the arena outside lightened into a grey dawn. Whatever she'd do without spirits of the earth to guide her, she'd never know. The contrived night outside was not due to her own doing, but rather a friend--Pulling together enough clouds to black out the sun took power, power she couldn't afford to use.

She really did love sky dragons. They gave the best rides.

She continued onwards, not looking back. Before was a time to fight. Now was a time to think, instead. Smiling into the darkness, she saw the faintly bronze gleam of her guards. "Ah, there you are..."

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.

---

---

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.

---

---

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.

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.

(Shorter post this time guys :O I'm a little pressed for time as college is approaching and all but I promise the next one will be nice and lengthy <3)

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Were those nerds seriously socializing when they were running for their lives? This was just fan-fucking-tastic."Hey, punks!" She called over her shoulder, about ready to rip that monk limb from limb since he seemed to be the instigator of this meet and greet. "This isn't some random group date, keep it in your fucking pants! Aren't you a monk?" She questioned with narrowed eyes, but it was more rhetorical than anything else. She really didn't care enough to try listening in to his answer.

She shot all of them the dirtiest look before leading them further down the hall, glancing over at the distant arena. They were making good time, she'd admit that much. For all their yacking, at least they kept their legs moving. The king's champion was still wrecking havoc off in another portion of the castle. She'd say poor bastards but she didn't really feel bad for 'em. Nope, they were just necessary as part of the whole distraction.

She tsked as they rounded a corner, catching sight of the elevator at the far end. "Come on!" She yelled at them, picking up the pace as she moved quickly towards the exit. Finally, something GOOD to see. They'd be in that elvevator and through the portal where Liandre would be waiting for them. And then she could be shot of all these losers. No one said she had to take care of them once they entered into the parallel world, after all. She just had to get them there. That was the deal.

Pah. Morons, the whole load of them.

As they drew closer to the elevators, she grabbed a knife from a fallen guard and threw it in front of her to strike one of the remaining guards in the throat. Whether or not his death was instant, well, that didn't matter much, did it? The point was he was out of the way and she had little care for the rest. She just wanted her peace and quiet back. Ugh. She shouldn't have ever agreed to this, such a damn headache.

She took the key from around her neck that the princess had given her and pushed it into the slot, turning it until she heard the click. The doors creaked open and she darted inside, urgently gesturing to the others to follow. "C'mon, c'mon. You can chase skirts later, monk. All of ya, get inside the damn elevator so I can be rid of you sooner! And possibly save our hides if you're lucky." This day was FAR too long.

Before The redheaded girl could answer, the one they were following interrupted. ”Hey Punks! This isn’t some random group date, keep it in your fucking pants! Aren’t you a monk?”

He had no idea what she was talking about. “I neither practice Asceticism, nor have I dedicated my life to serving others- with the exception of my master. And it is common knowledge that it is easier for a group to achieve a goal if all of the individuals work under a friendly cooperation. assure you, my goal is nothing more than survival through cooperation.” He answered rather confused as to what she was referring to. It did not help that she was clearly not listening to him although she had asked him a question. He would have continued if it were not for the incredibly nasty look she gave him. Looking down at his pants to see if anything important was sticking out, he looked to Vier. “What am I supposed to keep in my pants?”

He wanted to continue his conversation with the redhead girl, but he decided that it would be better not to further disrupt the little peace there was between he and the strange girl leading them. So instead, he smiled at the redhead girl apologetically. Seeing a few guards ahead of them, the girl in front yelled at them, “Come on!” while throwing a knife straight at one of the guards, the blade sticking in his throat. Strangely, she ignored the others standing ready to attack them.

Frowning inwardly, he quickly calculated. The lead girl was ignoring them, he was carrying a casualty and he hated to tell the other two girls to put their lives in danger. Now frowning outwardly, he said to the boy on his shoulder, “I apologize in advance for what is about to happen, friend. I have no intention to cause you discomfort.” Then calling out, “Vier, please cover me!” as he charged forward toward the remainder guards. He jumped up kicking one in the face breaking his nose and knocking him out. Using the man’s face as a springboard, he launched himself at another. Spinning around, he knocked the guard’s weapon away with one foot, then kicking him in the side of the face dislocating his jaw. His great weight easily pushed them around, while he still held back just enough to not kill them. Trusting that Vier and hopefully the other girl would take care of the rest, he continued forward, slowing down only to keep an eye on his new allies. He trusted that Vier alone could handle the rest, although he hoped that the redhead would help her, but he would feel terrible if he continued on to not help them if on the off chance that they were overtaken.

During the quick attack, he tried to move as smoothly as possible as to accommodate the winged boy on his shoulder. Well. As smoothly as one can jump and kick two people’s faces before touching the ground. “Are you quite alight? I did my best not to jostle you too much. I will set you down in the elevator so you can recover, if you would like.”

”C’mon, c’mon! you can chase the skirts later, monk.” The lead girl yelled at them from inside the elevator rather angrily. ”All of ya, get inside the damn elevator so I can be rid of you sooner! And possibly save our hides if you’re lucky!”

“I… I’m not a monk….” Taran said dejectedly. “And no one is even wearing skirts….” He grumbled under his breath while setting the boy down as gently as possible. Now that they were all in the elevator, he looked at the lead girl. "I am terribly sorry, friend, but have I done anything to offend you? If I have, I would like to apologize and assure you that I never had any intentions to do such. May I ask your name? I am called Taran."

The girl ahead of them erupted in a fit of anger, yelling at them and cursing about something that Vier didn't quite make out as she was a bit farther back. What she did manage to get though, was that most of her comments were directed at Taran who answered her and then upon not getting a reply looked back at Vier.

“What am I supposed to keep in my pants?”

Her cheeks brightened just a bit and her eyes widened slightly as she ran behind him. Vier shook her head quickly in response and shrugged, "I-I don't know..." she answered, completely embarrassed at the situation. As the one leading them threw a knife as she shouted for them to hurry, Vier's throat tightened. She really didn't want to fight again, but she figured it wasn't really something she could avoid. Besides, they were almost to freedom, or so she hoped.

The sharp edges in the cuffs of her wrist armor dug into her skin as she flicked her arms. The soft flesh, scarred and worn by the many times she'd done it, opened up easily enough. Blood trickled down her hands and she quickly formed it into the blades that she used to fight with.

“Vier, please cover me!”

She nodded and jumped into the fray. Her hands slashed outwards, fingers opened as she attacked the first guard that she could get to. She watched -and winced slightly- as Taran jumped and kicked a few of the guards down. She felt terrible for the winged boy that he held, knowing for certain that must have been more than a little uncomfortable. Twisting around she just barely avoided getting cut in half as one of the guards took a swipe at her exposed stomach. She repayed them the kindness by slashing open his face.

She turned on her heel, heart beating rapidly and rushed for the doors. She ducked in behind everyone else, just barely managing to avoid getting injured by any other guards. She turned to see Taran gently putting the boy down and bit her lip. He looked really pissed off. She wondered for a moment if she should say something to him... but then she thought better of it. Probably best to leave him alone.

But, what were they going to do when they had to pick him up again? There was no may he could walk on his own, not with his body battered the way it was. Vier winced at her next thought. If worse came to worse, she supposed she could just knock him out again...



“I apologize in advance for what is about to happen, friend. I have no intention to cause you discomfort.”

"Wait... wh-" Quinn started, but didn't manage to finish as the man named Taran shouted to the girl he'd been talking to earlier and abruptly jumped into the air. The movement itself didn't hurt Quinn, it was when Taran struck something -and hard too- that Quinn was jarred just slightly. He hissed in pain, hands clenching the cloth that was the man's shirt tightly. Taran used the one he'd just kicked and the room suddenly was a blur to Quinn.

It wasn't that he was unused to such things, for his flight patterns usually did the same thing. What bothered him was the second jarring attack and the fact that he wasn't in control of the situation at all. Thankfully it all was over rather quickly.

“Are you quite alight? I did my best not to jostle you too much. I will set you down in the elevator so you can recover, if you would like.”

Quinn grit his teeth, "Put... me... down," he hissed angrily.

Taran entered the elevator at the beckoning of the girl who led them. Once inside, he pulled Quinn off his shoulder and set him down slowly. As he was leaned against the wall, he reached around and gripped his side in a vain attempt to ease the pain of the broken ribs. He glowered at the people around him and moved his legs beneath him. He pushed against the wall with his back and started to stand. He only got part way when his legs gave out and he crumpled to the floor.

Dizziness and pain in both his wing and his chest caused him to drop. Perhaps he'd hit his head as well... Quinn sighed heavily as he slowly pushed himself back up into a sitting position. Great... this is just great he thought to himself grumpily.