Lance Walsh's Story

Lance had suddenly was face to face with none other than Anya, who had made her way out of the arena first. Lance gave an encouraging smile. "Good fight," he said.

"Oh. It's you," she said, coldly. What was she so irritated about? She had won the fight, right? So why wasn't she celebrating her victory? Well, he knew the answer to that one...Anya's personality would probably lead a person to conclude that she doesn't really "celebrate" anything. So probably a better way to put that question would be "Why wasn't she content with her win?"

"I suppose you were hoping your friend would win. Sorry to disappoint you after leading you along so dutifully. It seems I'm not feeling well today. Otherwise, I wouldn't have gotten your hopes up," she continued. Lance didn't know how to answer that. He was somewhat torn between Anne and Anya on that fight and pretty much remained neutral. He clapped to at least show his appreciation for both, but for once, he really couldn't pick a favorite in that fight. Granted, he liked Anne more, but only because he knew her better. He predicted fights through the way the fighters fought like, not based on friendship. He just didn't know enough about Anne's fighting style to make a fair judgement.

"I judge fights through talent, not friendship. Therefore, I was probably the only neutral one in the Spectator Stand. And it was a good thing too. A giant fight broke out between Eagles and Hawks that nearly wiped the entire Crown Count for both houses and I'm glad I wasn't a part of that. So anyway, I understand that you've just done two fights now in one day. So I can completely understand if you want to take the night to rest and we can re-schedule the spar tomorrow." Lance returned to that smile once again as he stood there, waiting for Anya's reply.

Anya raised an eyebrow, and sighed slightly as Lance informed her of the idiotic actions of her housemates.

"I... see," She said at last, disgust and regret evident in her voice. "While I don't particularly care about crown counts and such, such pointless bickering makes getting into spars rather problematic, should such fights ensue every time I step into the ring. What a pain. All I wanted was to end the duel quickly and decisively, yet that girl insisted on surpassing the system limits in order to drag things out. And now this... Hawk and Eagle houses will probably be suspended from entering the arena in official matches for a time if this is the case. What a pain..." She repeated, sighing again as she thought over the probable outcome. Arena right suspension meant no more actual all-out fights, which in turn meant she wouldn't have a chance to rise in the ranks and expand her own strength. That was her one goal, and yet... why was it that things always had to get in her way?

"I won't force you to reschedule the bout for my sake. I should be able to fight you... even in this state, I can't be called strong if I'm worn out by a mere..." She stopped, as though trying to regain her breath, and tried to continue, but her voice was faint and weak. "Two... battles..." She concluded. Anya barely managed to get the last words of her sentence out before a wave of fatigue overcame her, and, eyes widening in surprise, she felt her balance slipping away. Stumbling forward, she was suddenly unable to effectively control her feet, as though she was wading through some sort of invisible mire that undid all of her careful attempts to stabilize herself. Her knees were giving way, she was falling forward!

But... why? Surely, she hadn't so fully exhausted herself in a mere two engagements to be unable to stand? Physically, she was tired to be sure, but...

It was then that she realized the truth. In both of her battles, she had used a phenomenal number of Type-False blades, breaking them and replacing them as was necessary. She had gone through a total of 14 blades in her battle with Faustus la Croix, and had created another six in her duel with Anne. On top of that incredible exertion, she had formed a Type-TRUE Amaterasu in both of her duels. Usually, forming two Type-TRUE weapons was enough to completely exhaust her, let alone after having created a total of 20 blades beforehand! In fact, the only incredible thing was that she had managed to stay standing and thinking coherently for this long when she had already spent almost all of her heart's strength on forming blades.

When making a weapon, there were two factors to keep in mind. First, there was the divine energy one must harness. That was the source of the blade's cutting power, and channeling just one god's energy through a mortal body was usually enough to drain a fairly sizable chunk of their strength. But Anya, on the other hand, had to do more than double the work. With two gods embodying her at once, their power had a tendency to conflict and clash before she gave it form, sapping a great deal of her strength with each set of blades she made. But, on top of this, there was also the second factor one had to keep in mind: the strength of one's own heart, required to give the weapon form. In Anya's case, her blades were given form the fragments of her heart known as "determination to grow in power," "hatred," and "desire for revenge." The blades she wielded were embodiments of her heart's vengeful rage as it lusted for the blood of her family's killers, and thus, with each blade, she lost some of the emotion that drove her, weakening both her heart and her body until she no longer had the strength to animate her own movements. Normally, a simple rest would be sufficient to overcome her fatigue by the next day, but she had gone so far beyond her limits in her two duels that it was doubtful now that she'd be able to even make it out of the main building before she collapsed, unconscious, for an undefined period of time as her heart and body tried to recover from the loss of their animating force. Any further exertion, and she would probably be out for a day, if not longer.

And that didn't even take into consideration the fact that she might crack her skull open on the floor as she fell.

Damn it... What... a... blunder...

While Lance wondered about how she was able to pull off two fights, Anya had responded.

"I...see. While I don't particularly care about crown counts and such, such pointless bickering makes getting into spars rather problematic, should such fights ensue every time I step into the ring. What a pain. All I wanted was to end the duel quickly and decisively, yet that girl insisted on surpassing the system limits in order to drag things out. And now this... Hawk and Eagle houses will probably be suspended from entering the arena in official matches for a time if this is the case. What a pain..." Lance sighed with her. He knew how frustrated this made her. Everyone should know tomorrow what is the punishment as the result of the fight. Even though the big brawl was ended rather quickly with a threatening announcement, things like that don't go unpunished in this Academy. They can't afford to "let it slide". Most likely, Hawks and Eagle house members will be banned from watching the fights for a set period of time, like Anya was predicting. This dealt a blow to her because if Lance understood prodigys correctly, they also liked to learn off of other people. And if she gets banned from viewing fights...well, there won't be a happy Anya rolling around Stella Luna Academy for a little while.

"I won't force you to reschedule the bout for my sake. I should be able to fight you... even in this state, I can't be called strong if I'm worn out by a mere..." Anya stopped, as if fighting something inside of her. "Two...battles..." She was able to complete her sentence, but barely. She was blinking, as if struggling to stay awake. And then she began to collapse, her eyes fluttering shut, her body folding in on itself as if a switch was thrown and she was shut down.

Lance managedd to catch her before her head hit the ground. She had blacked out from fatigue. There was no question about it. Two fights were possbly standable, even from a first year like himself, more so for a prodigy, like Anya. But two TOUGH battles...now that was something even the greatest of the great fell under. She wanted perfection and she just about got it...at a price. She had manifested her weapon not once...not twice...but three times. Three times...not to mention how ever many times she manifested her blades in her fight against Faustus. She never stood a chance to hold out forever...

Lance picked her up, surprised as how light she was. It was wierd to think that someone so fierce, someone so competitive, would not weigh that much. Oh, how looks can be deceiving...

He walked out of the arena, towards the Hawk house. He knew that each house had a private medical room reserved for their house members only, but at this point, he didn't care. The sun was a ball of orange over the lake, the sky a deep lavender. Night would be coming soon...oh the thought of night made him smile a little bit.

He walked straight through the front doors of Hawk house, as if he belonged there. The infirmary was the second door on the right and he entered immediately. The head nurse sitting there turned in his direction, then stood up from her desk, a look of concern on her face. "What seems to be the problem?" she asked.

"She took a part in two tough fights today and finally collapsed from the exhaustion. I don't know when she's going to come around..." Lance trailed off as he handed over the sleeping Anya to the nurse. The nurse put on a stethoscope, measuring her heart rate, then set her down on one of those bed and turned back to Lance. "She'll be fine," the nurse reassured,"She just needs a LOT of rest. Who is this girl again?"

"Anya Roscoe," Lance stated clearly.

"The prodigy?" the nurse questioned, a hint of surprise in her voice,"I didn't think anything could bring her down to collapsing."

"Well, she's only second year and she fought Faustus la Croix and Anne Patra..." Lance shrugged,"It can happen to anyone if they try hard enough."

The nurse smiled. "That's true. And what's your name?"

"Lance Walsh," he replied.

"Well, Lance. Thank you for bringing her to me. I'll let you know when she wakes up."

"Thank you." With a slight nod, he left the infirmary and walked out of the Hawk house. By now, people were heading back to their dorms for dinner, homework, and entertainment. A few of the early birds gave second glances back at Lance as he walked away from their dorm, but they luckily didn't pester him.

He walked back to the entrance of the arena and waited for Anne to come out so that he could congratulate her.

Anne had picked herself up off of the ground when the fight had concluded. She knew she had lost, but some part of her wasn't as angry as she should have been. It had been a long shot trying to beat Anya, and she knew that. Maybe it was the fact that she had a good fight, her best infact.

Either way, she picked herself up somewhat happily. She didn't really want to face anyone at the moment, she might not be angry aabout losing, but being sad is natural about it still happened. She made her way, spear on back, over to to the arena enterance. She waited there for Anya, or even Lance, but after a while she didn't see either of them.

She walked over, getting both praises and insults from her own team, "Geez, there will be other fights you guys." She thought to herself. Before she knew it, she was over near the Hawks medical tent. She didn't go in, because she wasn't a Hawk, so she started her way again.

Once at the arena front again, she saw Lance. Dispite losng, she still wanted to hang out with him. "Hey," She said making her way over to him. "You saw the whole fight, right? How badly was my ass kicked?" She asked him jokingly, before putting her hands over her head. Her stomach growled, "Sorry about that, want to get some food?" She didn't really care where Anya was, she was a big girl and could and would likely kill anyone that tried to attack her.

Lance spotted Anne heading over to him from the medical tent. He waved before she reached him. "Hey. You saw the whole fight, right? How badly was my ass kicked?"

Lance laughed. "I did and you weren't as badly kicked as some other people, I heard. Especially for a first year, you fought better than Faustus la Croix, her first fight today, did. And he's a fourth year!" he replied, trying to lift her spirits. But, deep down, they knew that Anya was going to win from the beginning...

He heard a small growling sound and Anne immediately responded. "Sorry about that, want to get some food?" she asked. Lance laughed again. "Sure why not? How about you and I get cleaned up and we'll meet up in the mess hall in ten? No offense, but you've got a little paint riiiight..." he gestured to her entire face,"...there." he began laughing at his joke before heading off in the boy's Eagle dorm, then stopped and called back. "Oh, and if it means anything, you managed to make Anya faint from exhaustion, so you could count that as a mutual kill..." He ran into his awesome bedroom to get cleaned up himself...

((OOC: Sorryu, SMinSC, but I'm going to move on. I've been waiting for too long. I dk if you lost interest or got too busy, but I'm going to try and bring this back...))

Lance looked off in Anne's direction, then shrugged. He didn't hear any response from her, so he'd just take it as a no, she didn't want to. She did lose, after all.

Walking to the boys Dorm, he spotted Raymond, talking to a couple of girls. Well, rather flirting with them. He said something and they giggled in response. Lance walked over to them, then decided against it, walking to the corner of a building and waiting for them to walk off before entering. Meanwhile, he thought of Anne. They had just became friends, but something in him wanted more than just friends. How wierd.

They talked for about five more minutes before the girls walked off, giggling to themselves. Lance walked towards him quietly, trying to scare him, but Raymond spotted him before he could reach him. "Dude, seriously, you're going to try that?" Raymond grinned.

"Yeah, I was," Lance replied, honestly and nonchalantly. Raymond laughed in response. "So who were they?" Lance asked.

"Oh...um...well, they're my dates on Friday..." Ray answered, his race beginning to turn red under the lavender sky. Now, it was Lance's turn to laugh.

"A date, dude! That's awesome!" Lance replied. Ray just smiled meekly. "We should celebrate with Resident Evil 6!" he cried. Ray nodded in agreement before heading to their room to enjoy themselves for the night.

((OOC: Okay, I'm done for the night. Someone else can start us off on tomorrow, if they wish.))