Deities of Rumble! [IC]

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"Welcome, one and all young students, to Karma High; located here in Bangladesh is the the top school in the world for those with the highest of blood, the keenest of minds, those of special interest, or natives. A variety of you attend Karma High, but you all have one thing in common; instead of our teachers stopping student fights, we will be arranging and grading them. We have had you picked up from airports and transported into the thick jungle where our vast campus is hidden for the purpose of privacy while the year's procession trecks on, in which you will participate in fights between each other, and beasts of the Djinn kind native to the jungles of Bangladesh. You are fierce fighters one and all, but an order will rise in which your King and Queen will be on the top, with the rest of you struggling to raise yourselves to their level. But fear not first years, Gym class will prepare you for all of this.

The education here is one that will make you successful in life outside of High School, but while you are here things will be tough, you will be pushed, and bones will break. While you are here we ask that you abide by the school rules- JAMES ANDERSON YOU HAD BETTER NOT THROW THAT PAPER AIRPLANE- and do not stray outside of the compound unless on a mission, and never alone. You are to be in your beds after dark-SO HELP ME GWEN COOPER PUT THAT CELL PHONE AWAY- and you are never under any circumstances permitted to-BY KALI'S SWORD, I SWEAR YOU ALL TO BE THE ROWDIEST BUNCH OF KIDS I HAVE EVER MET!!- I am ALMOST done with the yearly short speech, and you all can't even contain yourselves for five minutes!!!..... Fine, I give up, most of you know the drill anyway! You are dismissed...." The dull roar of the crowd grew larger as many teens began pushing and shoving each other out of the auditorium. Although Madame Constanstine was quite agitated, she found she could not blame the young ones for being robbed of their focus on the opening ceremony. Directly after the ceremony was when the first fights were held, and all out torrant of battles that decided where they stood in their class, and whether they were to be King or Queen this year, took place. Though those two titles would undoubtedly go to the two same individuals as they had always done since they came to the school three, almost four, years ago.

Madame smirked and shook her head, starting to chuckle as challenges and battle crys rang outside. She stepped leasurely off of the stage and began making her way outside, best to get a head start on mediating. Rather than try and control the mass of fights, the teachers acted as referees during these beginning fights, making sure no cheating was going on. Her prescious baby The Hall Monitor would also have his work cut out for him.

This year was going to be interesting according to the visions she had been having the past couple months, and Madame wondered if the students were ready for what was to come. Ho ho ho! Who cared anyway, today was going to be harmless.

She took a long drag from her pipe and let out a swirling mess of smoke as she snapped her fingers at a pair squaring off, last year's Queen and a brazen challenger, letting them know that she'd be their supervisor for however long it took for the rightful Queen to knock out the other bimbo. "Hit her with a chair!" She called gleefully, not flinching at the violent attacks.

---

5 o'clock pm
outside the auditorium
she ain't in kansas any more...Pardon? What sort of opening assembly was that? There was mention of fights and Djinn and…someone named Kali, she apparently was in possession of a sword. Though from the looks of it Kali could be just about anyone, as many students were possession of sharp objects and chains, Charlotte had to admit that she felt very out of place. This was another country true, but this school was supposed to be a normal high school, so far there wasn’t a whole lot of normalcy to be seen.

Upon being released from the assembly Charlotte found herself practically shoved along into the crowd, and her usual grace was reduced to a stumble once out of the auditorium, and it was a good thing too, because something flew by above where her head had been only moments before. She was smart enough to keep her head down as she looked over her shoulder, a girl her own height was glaring at her. She was pretty and petite like Charlotte, but lacked in any sort of gentle feature, she was down-right aggressive looking. The look of shock Charlotte gave in her frozen position excited the girl further.

“What you damn ninny?! Ain’t you gonna strike back, that was a full on challenge to yer sorry ASS!” Charlotte’s eyes widened as she slowly stood straight and straightened the front of her uniform. “Um, miss, we seem to have a misun-eeeaahhh!” Was it possible for someone to move so fast? Because Charlotte didn’t even see the girl move, and yet the sharp pain to her gut and the taste of dirt in her mouth told her that she had been either punched or kicked. It was certainly a first time experience for her, and the tough people in the movies took it much better than she could.

Charlotte coughed and rolled over to her left, her pretty bow now lopsided. “Shit, I was going slow too, you must be one hell of a weakling girl! You gonna get up now or what?” Charlotte stared up at the girl, her eyes getting slightly misty, she did indeed get up, some sort of show that she was not pathetic. Only the problem was that in this world, she was very pathetic. “That a girl, get on up! You’ll do for a warm up.” Charlotte’s attacker clapped, mocking her as she watched Charlotte try to wipe off the dirt on and in her mouth discretely. Charlotte’s attacker made to grab Charlotte by the hair, but instead her hand got slapped away, and Charlotte made a run for it. “HEY COWARD, RUNNING AWAY IS AGAINST THE RULES! DISHONOURABLE HACK!!” Charlotte’s bully was apparently a rather moody brat, because her screeches could probably be heard halfway around the school, even with all of the surrounding rumble.

Being yelled at, hit, dirtied, Charlotte had never had that happen to her, ever. The tears streaming down her face were one of humiliation and fear, also firsts for her. She bumped into a couple of people, but kept running, afraid the other girl might still be pursuing her. Behind the auditorium is where she ended up, and she went in the back door, unlocked for reasons Charlotte was in no mood to wonder about, had she been in a lesser state of embarrassment she might have hesitated to going down the stairs that the door opened to, the walls lit with torches of all things….but she was upset, and didn’t want to face what was outside, a place she was sent to by her father so he could work in peace. Wait? Where had that thought come from? It was untrue and she knew it, but she could not help but be upset with him for sending her to a boarding school, she would have to wait until Christmas to even see him again.
And the horrible thoughts kept streaming in the deeper she went, the torch light disappeared gradually, she didn’t even notice because her eyes adjusted with it, until everything went black, and something other than her own will pushed her forward. And forward.

And forward.

It was light again, but not a white light as you’d associate with light, a black one. One would never think that the color black could shine so brightly, but it did, all around Charlotte, a black light. Black Black Black lust….for what? She wanted…Blood, so where was that girl from earlier?

---

9 o'clock pm
still in front of the damn auditorium
Holy shit people...
Practically everyone was watching, the brazen girl who had immediately challenged last year’s motherfucking Queen was still going at it with her! Madame Constastine had been rooted to the fight since it had begun, and she didn’t regret that one little bit. This was one hell of a rumble. And the crowd was loving it as much as she was, it was dark but lights had been provided, almost making the scene an arena.

But as the fight pulled to a close something happened that no one expected, the crowd rawred at the scandalous outcome. Last year’s Queen, a senior, had been uprooted by a second year! “We have a new Queen!” The ridiculously tall and strong Madame Constastine picked the girl up by the arm and waved it about, the crowd welcoming her into royalty. “Well girl, what shall we address you by, and by that I mean your name, don’t be a smartass.” She beamed down at the bleached blonde girl, ignoring the fallen Queen cruelly, as was tradition, she was no longer Queen after all, and to her the defeat was shameful.

But as the new Queen answered, Madame frowned. She glanced behind her, hairs lifting on the back of her neck. “Um, sorry dear what was that?” But she couldn’t peel her eyes from the auditorium doors. For Madame, everything was suddenly silent; she couldn’t hear what was going on around her, even though by all accounts, it was characteristically loud.

She snapped out of it, “GET EVERYONE AWAY FROM HERE.” Too late, the doors she had her eyes so locked on blew open, dark tendrils of actual visible chi ripping them off of their hinges, hitting a few people in the process. A blonde girl wearing a lopsided bow strode forth, her steps burning the grass beneath her with black energy. The massive amount of chi, it was like the thousand armed goddess, Kali.

Amita
4:40 PM
Outskirts of Karma Highschool
Watching a new dawn rise
There she sat, her elaborate dress whispering softly to the sturdy branch on which it rested. She faced a particular direction with a sly grin on her face and the occasional sounds of excitement escaping her curved lips. Not far off lay a rather obnoxiously placed building that never stopped producing trouble for those who resided in the forest and always managed to do something of interest to attract the Djinn, only to cast them down whenever they came close. This is what Amita was focusing all her attention on; her golden eyes normally glanced over the structure numerous times a day, but never held this kind of stare of fascination.

The school was always a bustling at this point in the year; young ones attempting to shallowly prove themselves, old ones claiming their superiority, the best of them all being forced into mediation, it was all routine and never really interesting, especially to someone like Amita. Even so she watched each year from just over a mile away, avoiding any tangles with certain people but still possessing quite the view of the invigorated fights. This year with the twist of a rather pathetic girl to stir into it all, the boredom was thankfully sated with the promise of a show nothing amongst the forest would dare miss, even if they must wait a few hours to see its true fruition. The levels of chi that would burst forth in only a short while were sure to gain anyone too stupid to know the situation already and possibly provide for a few more sights before the day ended.

While the thought of taking that belligerent god's wife for herself was endlessly pleasing, the hurdles it entailed were very off-putting, and besides the overall difficulty there were certain encounters she would prefer to not have at the moment. Luckily the show would not be postponed due to her reluctance as one little flower who took rather quick to exercising in the forest was already set to make sure things happened according to the twists fate never intended. She was a fierce little thing, but with a few minutes of gentle prodding by one well trained in that delicate art, she fell into joyous dependence and was reluctant to leave. Amita, after indulging herself in the cute little bundle that feverishly embraced her once more, she made sure to relay her intentions to the quivering body; that this girl, Komali, was to find a foreigner after the orientation ended. She was to find her, and challenge the unaccustomed girl to a fight and continue it until the girl inevitably ran in a specific direction. The details of the plan were ingrained into the girl with every moment of exposure to the Djinn.

Every sensation from the sound of her voice to the caress of her hands instructed the petite fighter; who the target was, what location she was to herd her, and what to do afterwards would remain with the girl forever now. To reduce any sense of possible failure, Komali was immersed under a wave of combat knowledge and skill. After everything was set to happen as Amita intended, she sent the girl back to school after quieting any reluctance with promised praise upon her success. That occurred nearly eight hours ago, and now the anxiety of what was to come ate at the provoker of fate; the orientation hadn't even ended yet and the process would likely take several hours, but the buildup makes the climax all the more energized.

---

Christopher Stast
17:00
Patrolling
Stagnant Apathy
Here it was again, a new school year coupled with new, fresh-faced students and an energetic drive to succeed. Of course that just meant that this was the busiest Christopher was ever going to be; out of every one of those new idiots only half likely read up on the rules and that meant he had to go (read: sprint) around acting as a regulator to multiple fights for the next several hours. And we mustn't forget the arrogant ones who think they can go up against the Hall Monitor successfully. Most just fell prey to a warning before ignoring it and falling to their knees as a result of a well placed strike or induced electrical spasms. Either way those who dropped were left on the floor until they regained their composure; he had no time to clean up after himself today. It was after taking care of the usual fourth year fool who made the odd mistake of underestimating the only student to not compete. Most assumed he had been given special protection by Madame or the Headmaster, they were not only wrong but completely backwards with their logic.

---

21:00
Proximity of auditorium
Epitome of AnnoyanceWith many fighters either retiring or being carted away for injuries or exhaustion, Christopher could finally stop rushing around the entirety of the campus to supervise fights and punish those who went against guidelines. Fortunately, what seemed like the last of the major fights, that between the Queen and her recent successor, had come to an end and all that was left was to check with Madame before being relieved of his referee duties for the night. This was sadly not to be as a great emergence of chi suddenly burst through the school, originating from the place that was supposed to be forever locked. Before he could react the doors were thrown outward by the force of Kali and what she had taken for her temporary home.

Hearing Madame give the order, he rushed between the tiny host and the crowd of shocked spectators and undid both the buckle on his Rantai holster as well as that of the taser. The former, needing a good shake of the arm to loosen its accustomed state, fell to the floor as a quick hand grasped the last foot of chain. The latter was armed with a cartridge and aimed directly at the marching target; he wasn't sure how a host would react but a human body still contracts under electrical surges. The two wires bridged the gap between Christopher and the foreigner, and with the darts mere inches away from her body, he would soon find out how Kali would react to 50,000 volts.

5-9 oc'lock.
Auditorium.
Fucking ZEN.


The "brazen" challenger--such a keenly foolish one, she must have seemed--began the battle with utmost stillness. People who knew her, people who have fought her, would raise their pretty little brows and turn the look to their neighbor. Her hands were bandaged but bare, flexing minutely at her sides with each intake of breath.

The warning came in the form of an incredulous whisper and a polite bob of the head: "Good luck, Ms. Majesty!" Sohung. And then came the bird's diving lunge, which cued the start of fate's ticking clock. Loping legs and snaking arms ducked past the most ferocious of her opponent's attacks; split second weaknesses were not allowed to pass unattended. Keep the damage to a minimum, Ila. Never for a second let them think they have victory in their grasp. Be fearless, be relentless. Go.

---

There was a beginning, and there was an end. The final moment was like two serpents, intertwined by desperate hunger and swallowing its brother's tail one gulp at a time. The untimely death of one reign was, without the barest pause, reborn when the bony knuckles of a backhand made contact with a sculpted cheekbone. Stunned silence, penetrated only by brief gasps, was the harshest mistress to the fallen. The key was to make it look like it was an easy feat. Disgraced by a child using a monkey's techniques, oh, the horror. The absolute shame! Ilania was sure she would not want to share the fate.

She realized her mouth was completely dry as she sucked in copious amount of oxygen to stabilize herself. The air mercilessly scraped against the inside of her cheeks, and the ground against her torn and naked feet. Blossoming bruises (gathered together over the course of four hours to witness her Moment, of course) littered her golden arms, which were thrust to the limitless blue sky above. Fingers spread so far apart she must have been trying to grasp the entire world, she... proceeded to sashay about, swaying her shoulders and hips to the mute tune of a Rick Roll number. A fresh layer of sweat gave her body a sliky sheen, traveling down extended appendages like insects and taking off in flight with every turn of her heel.

"HAA! Ha! Toldja I'd make it--hey, ow!" What would have been rival to the most obnoxious of touchdown celebrations was interrupted by long nails snatching up her battered wrist. The (occasionally) poised mistress "with the hair" had slithered over to announce the obvious, and Ilania realized she'd been asked a very important question that deserved a very important answer:

"Your mooom," she crooned silently as the crowd roared with collective murmurs. Then the wide, white grin between split, meagerly bleeding lips: "--Savitri. Ilania Savitri."

All hail the Queen.




Or at least, that's what they ought to have been doing. A parched pout graced Ilania's lips when it was apparent Madame Constantine had not been listening. At all. How irritatingly dizzying. (Dizzying...? Whoa yikes, how many eyes does this lady have... Two, four...) Her free hand found its way to her hip as she mulled over how to give this woman a piece of her mind, and that was precisely when it happened. A burst of energy unlike any she'd experienced before surged forth, causing her weakened knees to nearly buckle. She heard the doors creak and crash, and the appalled screaming as they injured someone unfortunate enough to stand too near. Squinting, she could make out a shape. Many shapes, really. A girl: Do I ALREADY have to defend her position, fifteen damned seconds after getting it? Well. Never a better time than the present. Tendrils: Fucking... anime tentacle porn was not what Ilania Savitri signed up for, thanks, but what the hell.

Sis would take it on.

Her narrow wrists were easy enough to slip out of Madame Constantine's demon grip, and she made to join the others that took steps to enter the fray. One of them, the grouchy Hall Monitor, certainly seemed eager to be the first.

Robin Williams
5 o'clock
Auditorium
Bored... The speech was interesting the first time, boring the second time, and mind-numbing the third time. It really didn't change all that much; just going on about how the students were going to defend the earth and save it from demons and such. That was the only part Robin ever liked: the part about killing demons. It seemed like it was the only thing that could charge him up, make him actually want to do anything other than sleep or just sit around, maybe read a good book or two. Except, well, he had gone through most of the library while ditching his training. He was lucky he was naturally fit, or else the gym teachers probably would have put him into their 'extreme' class, which was pretty much where they yelled at you for two hours while you tried to get into shape. Robin sighed, looking around the outside of the auditorium, which was already covered in fights. Another year... I wonder if anything interesting will happen. He vaguely noticed a girl challenge another, clearly weaker, girl, and saw the weaker run away. All he did was sigh as a huge brute walked towards him.

"Ready to fight, Birdie?" Oh, not him again. It was the same brute from the last two years, who seemed to like annoying Robin to no end. It was hard to say if he just really didn't like Robin, or if the red-head just happened to be the first person he saw every time. "No running away this time, ok?!" Then again, Robin knew he wasn't exactly the most popular kid at Karma High. Sighing again, Robin shrugged and scratched his head, doing his best to look even more bored and uninterested than usual.

"Tired. Ask me later," he muttered, turning around to walk off the steps of the auditorium. He knew he'd have to fight someone eventually, but he really didn't feel like fighting... Besides, it was the beginning of the school year, and he was a little rusty. He had no wish to go up against Mr. Bigfoot or whatever the hell the guy's name was. Despite the fact that Robin saw him around campus all the time, every year, Robin made a point of never remembering his name. "Who are you, anyway?" It was probably a stupid thing to do, annoying the guy who was challenging you, but Robin didn't really care.

"I'm the guy who's gonna kick your ass to next weekend!" While that made no sense at all for Robin, he just shrugged and uncoiled his whip. He had to fight eventually, and if this guy was so set on fighting, then who was Robin to deny him the pleasure? Besides, it would make a good warm-up. A huge grin erupted on the challenger's face. "I knew you'd fight, coward!" How that made sense Robin didn't bother wondering about, instead choosing to jump back and sharply flick his wrist, the whip jumping forward and snapping at the other. The challenger laughed as he easily avoided the attack, looking at Robin's calm and bored face and mistaking it for worry. "Don't worry, I won't break too many of your bones, ballerina!" Robin shrugged again as the challenger pulled out his own weapon, two short swords with a wicked looking spike on the end of the hilt.

Time to get serious, Robin decided. He quickly threw himself to one side as the challenger, blond hair flying and blue eyes gleaming, tried to slash at him. Robin counter-attacked with a kick to the ribs, which landed, pushed by Robin's own momentum as he spun on his other foot. It didn't do much damage, but it winded the opponent and gave Robin time to back up a little. You need to get a new weapon, Robin's mind told him, as he lamented the lack of a small blade to finish the battle off. Making a mental note to try to get his hands on a few daggers, Robin ducked as a sword almost gave him a premature haircut.

"What kind of attack was that? I've got abs of steel, Birdie!" Ok, that's it. No one called Robin 'Birdie' twice in a row without getting a serious beating. Without a moment's hesitation, Robin snapped his whip and easily hit his target: the blond's left wrist, causing him to drop one of his swords from shock. Robin smirked slightly, lunging forward and almost getting killed by a sword (which he knocked away with the butt of his whip. It helped that it was a pretty flimsy attack). He tackled the taller teen, shoving him to the ground.

"I'm tired, so stop bothering me," Robin told the fallen teen softly. He flicked his whip once, twice, leaving two small cuts under the looser's eyes. They helped Robin keep track of who he had beaten and who didn't realize just how lazy he was. "I'm going to sleep," he thought aloud, turning to walk to the dorms.

Kenver
Looks Dark..
Outside the Auditorium
Gonna punch somebody
The school? Sucked. The speech? Sucked even more. The frickin' students? Couldn't suck more if they tried. And don't even get him started on that stuffy old hag he saw hacking it up on stage--or maybe she was actually trying to get something through to them. Kenver couldn't be too totally sure. He hadn't listened to much of it anyway. It was hard to listen to anything when you were cramped inside this crappy auditorium with all these stupid wannabe idiots screwing around, punching each other in the arms, tackling each other to the ground, shouting in his ear. He punched a kid in the face before he even made it out the door. Made the kid's nose bleed. From the mood he was in by the time he left that stupid, cramped-up place, the attack was hardly satisfying.

And don't even get him started on the crap he went through outside the auditorium.

The second Kenver left that place, people spread out everywhere. He wasn't sure what to do or where to go or what he was "never under any circumstances permitted to--" do. Because some insolent little cretans thought it'd be the greatest thing in the world to interrupt the hag in the spotlight in the midst of her speech, during some semi-interesting part. So now he'd missed it. And here he was, wandering the school grounds, avoiding kids flying over his head and getting blood all over his nice new jacket. Punks. Idiots. Losers. None of these kids knew what real fighting was. Just look at them, he mentally sneered. No competition whatsoever. He refused to fight anyone not worth fighting. This was his thinking, at least. That is, until some suped-up chick in curls shoved past him and knocked him to the ground--caught me off guard, that's all. His story and he was sticking to it. He'd promptly stood and shouted a daring insult after her--one that'd gone unheard anyway. Feeling offended, Kenver had ended up following the girl until she got swallowed up by the crowd of aforementioned punks, idiots, and losers, and he lost her. That made him really ticked.

"Kids wanna fight? Fine. I'll fight," he murmured to himself, scanning the crowd for someone giving the appearance that they were worth his time.

"Hey, you--"

--aaand punched right in the face. Down for the count. Kenver raised an eyebrow down at the kid he'd inadvertently given a black eye as the boy sat dumbly on the ground. He wasn't whining or crying. No, that would be bad sportsmanship and, on Kenver's terms, would of earned him a laugh right in his nasty looking face. Huh. Kenver thought, turning away from the suddenly silent kid. He looked a little younger than himself. Must be fresh meat. Though, technically, he supposed he fell under the same sort of category, but technicalities like those were under him. He would never go so low as to compare himself to any of these...low lifes. Before Kenver could go stalking any real prey (the last action had been a fluke, an accidental movement that ended a little more satisfactory than he'd thought it would), his attention was diverted towards a competition of sorts taking place in the center of a larger crowd. Chicks, he noted, not expecting much but getting a better show than he'd originally thought he would--and not just in the hormonal sort of way, either.The show had been enough to keep him entertained until nightfall, where the winner was annouced a little more strangely than what he was accustomed to.

The hag was back in the spotlight, but now all the attention of the crowd led elsewhere. Kenver let his eyes follow suit, standing tall enough to lay his sights on that very same girl who'd knocked him off his feet earlier in the day. He grit his teeth, picking up his feet to march in her direction, all the wide, curious gazes given to her oblivious by him. He had a bone to pick with her and no way was he going to let her walk away scott-free, girl or not. However, he came to a stop just behind a boy who'd stepped up before him. Kenver narrowed his eyes, annoyed that someone seemed to be beating him to the punch. His 'tsk'-ed at the sight of the dark-haired boy's taser. Was that really necessary? Sure, this chick looked a little...off her rocker, but if this man couldn't handle a fight with some frail-looking little girl, he certainly had no business standing up to her. Seeing all eyes focused on the two in question, and growing bored of being just the onlooker, Kenver brushed away any thoughts that told him this might be--oh, I dunno, a stupid idea, you stupid djinn!--not the smartest thing to do, and strode carelessly up to the other boy's side.

Kenver looked the other boy over, making it a point to be noticed--although, he was a little hard to be missed, out in the open now. He scoffed loudly and turned his attention towards the girl. "You really need a weapon to take on some dainty tea-sucker?" he asked, mockery obvious in his tone if not in his more-than-a-little arrogant smirk at the chance to show some other student up. That was what this was mostly about, anyway. Well, that, and revenge against this girl for shoving him in the dirt without so much as a warning. He felt offended. "So, anyway, spazzoid," Kenver went on, waving a hand in the taser-carrying boy's face, "I think this might be a little much for someone of your stature to handle. Lemme instead." Yeah. Still clueless.