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Gargarin Sklave der Lüge

"It is your choice. The serum in my right hand will give you immense power, but a shorter life. The serum on the left is water."

0 · 318 views · located in Resdreillhm Palace

a character in “Falsum Duomum”, as played by TheFinalOne

Description

Forty year ago:

"But sir, he was with the Fallen. Even if he was deemed not Fallen, he may be contaminated with their ideologies."
The man glared into the eyes of the boy, but the boy didn't flinch. "This one wishes to live. let him try."


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LOCATION: CARADHRAS PUB

"Have you heard of the Lightning Thief?"


"Lightning Thief, huh? Ya, I've heard of him. A man with a face like that? Nobody can forget him. Gargarin Sklave der Lüge is what he calls himself. A fancy name in some old forgotten language, much like his sense of humor."

LOCATION: NATIONAL INFORMATION CENTER

"How old was he?"


"The first, and last, record of him comes from a forty year old report of a kid being found when the Police raided a known Fallen hideout. The child was tested and found to be normal, surprising those who thought that the scar on his face was due a botched operation to remove the 'fallen' features. The age was reported as around six. That's all you'll get."

"Anything else?"

"Like I said, that's all a civilian like you will get."

LOCATION: CARADHRAS PUB

"What's his sex?"


"He doesn't talk to women, doesn't like men. I think *whisper*he likes childre-*/whisper* Oh, you mean if he's a man or not? He's male alright. Whether he is a man is another matter altogether *roaring laughter*."

"What did he *hands the man a drink* do for a living?"

"He was a wacko. A weirdo. If it wasn't for his complete uselessness in a fight, and how old he looks, I'd be tempted to say he was a Fallen. I heard he was kidnapped by the Fallen when he was small, but his father didn't give them any money. *laughs* I guess he wasn't worth much in his father's eyes."

"What did he look like?"

"Do you know why he is called the Lightning Thief?"

"Why?"

"It's his face. The entire left half got twisted in some freak accident. They say he was going against the Ruler's wish. He was playing with lightning. He thought lightning was better than steam. Ha! What a fool. He deserved what he got. He once told me he would steal the lightning from the sky, and save the Fallen. *irritated* A dangerous thought, don't you agree?"

"Very much so. So did he succeed?"

"I guess. He would be called 'Lightning Thief Wannabe' otherwise, wouldn't he?"

"*both smile at each other**fills the man's glass*I know I'm asking a lot of questions but you know he lied to me about the money I owed him. Now I understand why he used someone to do his dealings. He screwed me over."

"That's him alright. He is a conniving bastard, a thief. He last came here a week ago. If he does visit again, I'll send him your regards."

"You'll do? Thank you. Say, apart from his face what did he looked like?"

"Hmm, I really don't know. His face grabbed all the attention. Let me think, he was about your height, and umm, wait a minute, he looked just like you. Well, everything except his scar, his twisted face and his bad dressing sense. I remember him once wearing socks of wrong colors. One red, one blue."

"That is quite weird. One of the other patrons told me he always wore some paraphernalia with him. A ring?"

"You are talking about his wedding ring. That's what he called it. Exchanging rings to show love or something. What a liar. Every married man ogles at beauties. Oh, I just realized something. He told me why he wore those socks that day. He wanted to be different from the masses."

"I presume you didn't call him a weirdo just based on his socks."

"Not at all. everything about him, was different. Clothes never matched. Buttons were wrongly buttoned. Pant usually unzipped, half torn sometimes. Huh, I thought all I remembered about him was his face."

"*looks down at the table*I got fooled by a weirdo. What does that say about me?"

"*laughs*Oh, he had his quirks but don't underestimate him. He was a master at poker. His wooden left eye always stared at you. He suffered from regular piss shivers*laughs*. He mumbled and wrongly pronounced curse words. But this was where his greatest strength lied. Whenever a rival gang came here to run amok, they'd spare him. Laugh at him, belittle him, but spare him."


LOCATION: NATIONAL INFORMATION CENTER

"*hands over a paper* Here is the clearance. Now answer me. What did the man create that the information is deemed unnecessary for the public."

"Multiple things. He has bombs that can distinguish between friend and foe[Note 1], a weapon that can produce different gases depending on the requirements[Note 2]. He also possesses other weapons, including rifles and wearable weapons."

"So, there is more to him than being a six year orphan. Give me his file."


THE LIFE FILE

Gargarin spent his early years on the streets. He moved from place to place, a nomadic existence his curse. Years on the street made him what he his today. A man of lies and deceit, of street smartness and a strong will to live, of hatred for the rich and hatred for his fellowmen.

The man was spotted by a government official when he caught Gargarin unfolding his usual drama to steal bread. It was well rehearsed and planned. The officer noticed the deliberations in his movement. He caught Gargarin and offered him a job.

Soon, the years on the street started paying dividends. The man, who was first known for his obsession with individualism, came to be known as a genius with steam. His new valve designs made machines efficient earning him praise.

However, his life was cut short by a cruel twist of fate when he was killed by a Fallen thirteen years ago, on 21st March, 2132. He is survived by no one.


LOCATION: ISALLIA

"Thank you," the man said and left. He hurried home. His mirror and his instruments awaited him. Five minutes later, the man with the twisted face and a large scar was ready to face the world as Gargarin, The Lightning Thief.

So begins...

Gargarin Sklave der Lüge's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Gargarin Sklave der Lüge Character Portrait: Rakka Sukai Character Portrait: Taran Mortair
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GARGARIN SKLAVE DER LUGE



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."

The setting changes from Resdreillhm Palace to Isallia

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Gargarin Sklave der Lüge Character Portrait: Orfhlaith
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(OOC: Co-written by Igari, HansetteHeart and I)

Orfhlaith waited until the princess had taken off like a whippet and moved forward, her one good eye observing the woman in front of her. The metal flaw lay down in a slumped position, her eyes trying to bore holes into Orfhlaith’s head. It wouldn’t work. Many had tried, all that failed, a few walked away with a few new war wounds.

A couple didn’t even walk away.

“Didn’t you get the fucking hint, whore doll? Go run along back to beardy face.” The woman in the cell threw at the overseer who merely chuckled in response. Oh, if only she knew what the redhead knew. Even she, she of the otherplace would tremble in fear, if she saw the nightmarish ways she could die.

Really, Orfhlaith didn’t think people could be used as toothpicks. But, you learn something new every day, she supposed.

“My, my, aren’t we fiery for someone walking to her death?” The overseer gave the young woman in front of her an appraising gaze before sighing.

“There isn’t really a way round this, is there?” Orfhlaith said, almost to herself as she quickly cycled through her visions. No. This was the only way for this to work. Joy, oh joy.

“Now, listen here, dear Eiurin,” The redhead drawled, pulling on the sound of the flawed’s name. So, Liandre hadn’t used the name but the overseer had her ways of figuring things out of course. Not that anyone below the King’s Council ever believe it. Oh well. Their loss.

“So, far I have seen you die a good many ways in the last, oh, hour. Now, if you want this little plan of the princess’ to work and you to stay...relatively intact, you may want to listen to my advice.” The overseer hissed, her dead eye moving quickly. The King, the King was coming. Soon. She didn't have much time at all. And then she had a stabbed guard to worry about.

Or not.

He wasn’t anywhere close to dying so he wasn’t too important right now.
“Now, in the Battle Royale...” Orfhlaith started to say, eye conveying the seriousness of this situation. She had watched this metal woman be chewed up, her hope of escape rested on her shoulders.

And the redhead was not going to go through another failed escape attempt.

Not ever again.

A loud bang alerted the two that someone had entered the flawed cells. Someone who didn’t sound to happy.

“ORFHLAITH!” The redhead winced and turned back to the flawed in the cell.

“Go right, got it? Right.” She spoke quickly, quietly, just loud enough to be understood and no more. Then she quickly turned, plucked the knife out of Torn’s shoulder and concealed again. The guard let out a low moan.

“Oh, for goodness sake, pull yourself together! I’ve had papercuts that were worse than that!”

“M-must have been some b-big ass paper.” The guard groaned as Orfhlaith waited for the inevitable to occur.




King Resdreillhm was an impatient man who heartily disliked being kept waiting. The princess had stumbled back into the booth earlier, though he had gone through the cordial act of greeting her, he was at odds with her arrival. He was more than aware of Liandre's dislike of such events and was naturally suspicious as to her sudden desire to see the ongoings. This feeling only intensified when the royal girl had told the advisers, at the last minute, that she wished to submit in her own champion. Really now, sending a girl to her death--surely the princess, who adored peace and thought little of those that foresook the life that was given them--would not want to trult participate. The king kept all these thoughts to himself, however. He did not not want to alarm any of his royal court with his doubts. Perhaps Liandre had decided to give the games a chance--only time would be able to tell.

Now if only his little Orfhlaith would show her pretty, doll face...

As if on cue, there was a loud knock and a stumbling noise as the door was burst open by a guard who looked a bit ragged. The guard trembled as he stood back. letting the firey-headed woman pass by and into the stand. The king smirked a bit. His pets always returned to him, this flawed was no different. He was the only one who could fully bask in her brilliance, in her all-seeing eye, and the only one able to perceive into her being. He gestured for her to take her seat next to him and spoke to her in his smooth voice.

"Pleased to see that you found your way back, my pet. Though you took quite a... long time." The pause he took was careful and precise, to let her know that she was pushing her boundaries. Orfhlaith was his and his alone, and she knew better than to wander about the place as if she had some free will of her own. The girl wouldn't be able to think, live, exist--if it were not for him. He regarded her calmly, though, a calm that was disquieting and uncomfortable to receive. "Though nevermind, dear, I am sure you will not let this slip up happen again..." He trailed off as an adviser came closer upon him, leaning in near his ear.

"S-Sorry to disturb you, my Lord, but there has been a slight... miscalculation." The king raised his eyebrow.

"Mis... calculation?" He sounded out the word oh so slowly, looking between Orfhlaith and the adviser as he did so to let her know that if this turned around to be something she could've prevented, she would most certainly be punished for it. "Speak," He commanded in a firm voice.

"The flawed seem to be excelling much better than we could've thought this year... The crowd wants to see more action, your highness, more--" The king held up his hand to cut the adviser off, who stuttered to a halt as if slapped. He observed Orfhlaith as he spoke clearly.

"I will be taking a walk. And you," He said to the red-haired seer. "Will be accompanying me. None of you may follow--stay here and cater to the whims of the princess. And if that bothersome Luther shows his face here, let him pass. Better him entertained than causing more trouble." With those dismissive words, he grabbed his flawed's arm in a rather harsh manner, forcing her back to her feet and tugging her after him. There was no resistence from her, she knew her place and was being docile, just as he had trained her. The king knew precisely where it was he had to go--who had had to see to make sure that the games would be a success this year as they had always been. He pulled her with him into the elevator, taking out his special key and sliding it into the slot. The system registered the object and immediately the mechanisms whirred to life, descending to the floors below.

The elevator ride was not that long at all and it was only a few minutes more before the two arrived in the dungeon laboratory--a place he and only very few others had access to. He did not bother knocking as he simply pushed the doors open, barging into the workspace of Gargarin, the mishapen scientist under his employ. He did not mask his distaste for the other mans' appearance and shoved Orfhlaith to the side of him as he spoke gruffly.

"Whatever are you doing down here, Gargarin?" His voice was soft, deadly--lethal. "I was expecting a show, yet you give me nothing but freaks who the prisoners are taking out easily. And here we are, approaching the elimination match, and there is no beast to amaze my people and wipe out some of those pesky insects? Do you wish to play a... game with me?" His question were measured, demanding, and he did not waste any time in getting to the point. The king disliked being in Gargarin's presence and preferred to keep things as brief as he could. He regarded the man only a bit longer before turning his eyes upon the rest of the lab, lip curling in disgust. Still ever the freak show, still surrounded by odd ends and things. He tapped his foot, signalling to the scientist that he did not have any time to be wasted.




The man went in. Thunk. Step. Thunk. Step. Thunk. Step.

Gargarin smiled to himself. The creatures inside weren't for the faint hearted. There were no monsters of worth inside. Only failed experiments called it their home. There were only two possibilities. The adviser would scream, or more likely, would be too shocked to do anything.

The man came out. ThuSteThuSteThunk! He grabbed Gargarin by the collar who didn't say anything. Gargarin was amazed. Normal people would have been in shock but this man was spurred up by it. This changed everything. Now, NOW, he really wanted to turn the adviser into a monster.

"What the fuck was that?!" Gargarin removed the his hands of the collar and checked on the progress of the iron man on the bed. The adviser said nothing. Gargarin checked the pulse of the man. He was alive. He turned to the adviser.

"Failed Experiments."

"Failed experiments? Why are you showing me failed experiments? I want the best. The king going to be furious."

"Too bad. I showed you the room because you must understand that not every monster is perfect. You can't just hand me a bunch of trash and expect me to create gold out of it. Gold for gold. Crap for crap." The adviser looked at Gargarin with eyes that could only mean one thing. "You are a monster," the man said to Gargarin.

"I'm at peace with my inner demon. Are you?" Gargarin asked calmly. He walked across the room to his bookshelf and started searching for his favorite book, The Salamander of Westminister. "What do you mean, I gave you crap?" asked the adviser. "I have been giving you the same set of criminals for years now."

"Before," Gargarin began, "You gave people who didn't want to continue living as weakling. When I asked them if they wanted to become stronger and faster, almost all said yes. And so, because of their willingness, I could turn them into high quality monsters. But this year, you've just given me scared peasants."

"You never said you wanted willing people?!" shouted the adviser.

"You never listened to me. In any case, you should go now. I have sent what monsters I could create to your holding cell." The adviser stood for a moment and then realizing how futile it was to continue talking with Gargarin, he turned and walked away. Thunk. Step. Thunk. Step. Slam!

"Stupid idiot," Gargarin muttered out loud as the adviser slammed the door shut. Then he let out a sigh of relief. Usually the adviser was violent but today he only almost broke Gargarin's neck. Removing any thought of the adviser from his mond, he turned his attention to the book. The Salamander of Westminister entailed of a fake society where people chose who ruled over them. However, there was one man, the Salamander, who made they always voted for the same person, the one he wanted. He liked it because it was like his world but more useless. There weren't even any Flawed to kill.

Someone pushed the doors open, barging into the his workspace. He turned around to find the mighty king himself and some woman. why did always women here and tarnish the great lab. For a moment, he wondered how the king would look like on the operation table now occupied by an iron man. He should give the iron man a name. Calling him 'the iron man' would get tedious very fast. How about Steel?

"Whatever are you doing down here, Gargarin?" His voice was soft, deadly--lethal. "I was expecting a show, yet you give me nothing but freaks who the prisoners are taking out easily. And here we are, approaching the elimination match, and there is no beast to amaze my people and wipe out some of those pesky insects? Do you wish to play a... game with me?"

Gargarin wished to smile at the kind but he knew the king would take it the wrong way. He glanced at his operation table and back at the king, "Sir, as much as I would like to get you the very best monsters, I cannot. I wasn't sent a single person who was willing to be turned into a monster. But do not worry. I have send a few monsters up which hopefully would kill a few of those pesky Flawed."

The king was apt not to fully believe the words that this madman spoke to him. However, he was going to have to take Gargarin's word for it. The man eyed the other carefully as he reached out to place his fingers on his flawed's shoulder, trilling them slowly. "I believe I can... rectify the volunteer situation." One of the royal assistants, the very same one who had been belligerent to Gargarin, was the target of the king's gaze. The man looked ill at ease as he nervously tried to back towards the door. However, the king grabbed him swiftly by his arm and pushed him towards the scientist. "Use him as well, and make it something interesting." He said curtly.

"And do something about this horrid mess." The king said before abruptly turning, taking his seer with him. He didn't ever like being near Gargarin but the threat in his words should've been enough to make sure that he was given something truly spectacular. Just in case, he was going to make sure he sent down a few more unwilling participants to the scientist, just to make sure there was no shortage of potential monsters. Perhaps it might've seemed odd that he hadn't asked after what was in store. But he had always been a man who enjoyed the suspense, even when he was agitated.

The setting changes from Isallia to Resdreillhm Palace

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Eiurin Character Portrait: Gargarin Sklave der Lüge Character Portrait: Liandre Florenia Ignivicarian VI Character Portrait: Vier T'sker Character Portrait: Quinn Sari
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#, as written by Igari


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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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