Where Fate Guided Us (Mizzy)

"Is the destiny of man guided by some transcendental entity? Is it like the hand of God guiding man to his destiny? Is it like a writer freely letting crap flow the tip of his pen to add some level of philosophical depth to what might otherwise be a senseless amount of violence to come? There is only one thing that is certain: that man truly has no control over his own destiny."

"Zorlo, what the hell are you talking about?" Monroe asked him as he crossed his arms, quirking an eyebrow at the Aura Master.

The fencer turned around and looked down from his perched branch and thought for a moment. "Nothing," he responded as he took a step from the branch and slowly created steps as he walked down on the air steps he created. "Anyway, what's up?" the green haired man asked, looking at the blade Quincy.

"I was just coming to make sure you didn't plan to be late to that tournament that's coming up. After all, what good would it serve me to win without you being their to get your face kicked in?"

"Whatever you say, Monroe," Zorlo responded as he started to walk off. The Aura Master stopped briefly and looked back at the dark clad man. "Where is Zachary?"

"Already there, I assume," the former bounty hunter responded as he looked back over his shoulder at Zorlo. "After all, he's only going to get some training in. I'm sure he knows that he doesn't have a chance against anyone who's as mighty as I am."

"Keep telling yourself that, Monroe. I've got reasons beyond fighting to be there. Anyway, I'll meet you once you get there," the fencer said as he held his hand up and a door erupted from the ground. "Hope you don't decide not to come," the Aura Master stated as he walked through the door, the door vanishing after he stepped through it.

"Whatever you say, Z," the dark man stated as he leapt upwards into the trees and bounded towards the closest exit. He had to get to Tybalt quickly.

o=)---------- Tybalt-Inner City ----------(=o

Zachary took a few steps into the inner part of the city before one thing became strikingly obvious... he was lost. The red haired warrior looked around like a lost puppy in a park, but quickly shook that feeling off. Monroe and Zorlo were sure to be there soon. For now, he had to locate the arena. Hopefully, that would be easier than it seemed.

As he pushed through the crowds of people, the ice mage quickly located something of interest: a long line of people. "That can mean only one thing..." he muttered to himself as he started to push through people. This might take some time, which would be rather annoying. "I have to get there. I can't let..." Zachary stopped as he looked another entrance. The participant entrance. "Lucky I found that..." Zachary muttered as he walked off towards the entrance.

o=)--------- Tybalt-Outer City ---------(=o

The woman pulled her cloak tighter against her body. It had been a long trip. A very long trip for her indeed, but she had a reason to be there. The tournament was drawing near, and she had to get there. She was so close she could feel it. That and she had her armor nice and ready to go. Aside from her spear, her armor was already packed and placed where she could get to it.

The purple haired woman strode with pride and strength. Few people would have known that she was a woman, with how she had padded herself beneath her cloak. Her thick goggles and her hanging, purple hair were indicators that she wasn't from here. Still, she didn't care if they knew.

Emile held up one of the small items and looked at it with a smile. These transportation devices were cheap and effective, mostly since she could move her armor without trying in them. "I'm almost there," she told herself with a smile as he approached the sign in area. Now was the time to shine. She'd prove her combat prowess and win this tournament. After all, no one could overcome her armor. Such strength, to her knowledge, didn't exist.

She took her first steps into the participant area and smiled.

o=)---------- Participant Waiting Area ----------(=o

It was quite a sight to behold, Zorlo had to admit that. There were some powerful looking fighters here, including a purple haired woman that seemed to carry herself as if she were trying to be a man. Zachary stood off to the side, observing the others that entered into the building, and Monroe was busy... doing whatever it was he did.

"Guided by fate," the fencer whispered as he looked around. After all, he knew, somehow, that man would be here. That was, after all, why he had come.

Monroe waited atop the entrance area, looking out into the distance. He knew that there was a chance that the man he was looking for would be here too. After all, their kind didn't like to hide. Especially not after word spread of that tournament and the entrance of ogres into Rubato. "I doubt he's anywhere near as strong as Z said he is. Or as strong as Z heard he was from Cadenza. Doesn't matter, I'll stop him."

Zachary moved quickly, brushing into the heavily padded woman. The two stopped and exchanged glances for a moment. The woman's reflective goggles made it hard to look into her eyes, but Zachary could tell there was something... extreme about this woman. Something that made him hope he'd fight her. "See you out there," he muttered to her.

"Same to you, kid," she responded, trying to make herself sound older and tougher than she was. After all, this was Emile's chance to shine. She wasn't about to let some red haired guy stop her now!

“Oh, oh, Shawn! I think I’m cute! I know I’m sexy! I’ve got the looks! That drive the girls wild! I’ve got the moves! They really move ‘em! I send chills, up and down their spines! I’m just a sexy boy! Sexy booooyyyy,” Mercutio sang, listening to a song on his Zune while getting dressed.

Today was going to be a big day for a lot of people. Various arenas in Tybalt held tournaments every month or so, but this particular tournament was different from all the others. The Tybalt World Championship tournament only happened once in a decade, and only the best fighters in the world were allowed to apply.

Rather than qualifying matches, participants were allowed to join based on past battles and accomplishments. Whether they’d won multiple tournaments, were renowned for killing a legendary fighter, or simply exuded an air of power, they were allowed entrance. Mercutio himself had bribed the tournament officials in order to participate.

Today he planned on wearing a black t-shirt, jeans, brown boots, and a brown sheepskin bomber jacket, rather than his usual priest outfit. He didn’t want to draw any more attention to himself than was necessary. This was, after all, merely a means of fighting boredom. He wasn’t in it for fame or fortune.

Once he was dressed, Mercutio turned around and immediately stepped on a nail. The Unformed One bit his lip and pulled the piece of metal out of his foot. That’s what he got for staying in a cheap hotel room, he reasoned. Rosaline hoped that the hotel that the tournament sponsors provided would be a bit better.

~

While Mercutio was singing Shawn Michaels’ theme song, Cain was already at the arena. He’d entered disguised as a homeless man he’d fed upon the night before, and stood near a green-haired man. Adonai vaguely remembered meeting the man at Johnny Bones’ funeral, but couldn’t recall his name.

The vampire looked over the competition with a condescending gaze. Judging by the plethora of scents, very few of these people were human. Human or not, none of them seemed very powerful.

“Damn,” Cain thought. “I can’t test my powers against fodder…”

~

Ziran had wandered into the tournament completely by chance. Why they let him in, he didn’t know. The catboy busied himself for the time being by hunting through the crowd of fighters for anybody that he knew.

Kunto recognized a few people from a funeral Cain took him to a while back, but couldn’t recall any of their names, or any specific details about them. He remembered that the green-haired man had comforted him during the sad event, so he decided to change into his kitten form and go join the green man.

~

PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN!

Havok followed the source: A blonde man listening to a Zune. The killer was dressed in his civilian clothes, but had his stick and his torture devices in a sack with his killer clothes handy. He took the sack and followed his target anxiously.

~

Mercutio walked through the participants’ entrance a few minutes later, closely followed by Havok. He cheerfully greeted a few fighters before sitting down against the wall to survey his competition. The Avatar of Destruction was pleasantly surprised by what he saw.

Zorlo, a man he’d met at Dante’s funeral, was here. So were Zachary and Monroe, two men whom Rosaline knew to be associated with the fencer. Further crowd scanning revealed that Cain Adonai and Ziran Kunto were present.

Standing in a group away from the rest of the participants was a small collection of dark-skinned beings with yellow eyes, whom Mercutio knew to be prototype echoes. The entire group of dark creatures gave Rosaline a hungry glance before returning to their private conversation. Rosaline yawned and continued to survey the competition.

He only found two more people of interest: A blonde-haired man with a burlap sack who appeared to be eyeing him, and an intense looking woman with purple hair and goggles. Rosaline ignored the man in favor of the woman, as she appeared to be the only female participating in this tournament.

“I wonder if she’s tough,” he thought, putting his Zune away. For her sake, he hoped she was.

"Meow!" Zorlo heard as he looked down. The fencer bent down and picked the cat up and looked at it. "Meow." The fencer smiled at the cat and placed it on his forearm and petted the kitty.

"It's good to see you again, Ziran. It's rather fascinating that you're here, after all, this is a tournament," the Aura Master mused as he continued to pet the now purring Ziran. "Although you're not the only interesting person here," the fencer told himself as he looked at Mercutio. To the green haired man, this was the reason to be here. "He's here. Good, I was a bit concerned he might not come."

Zorlo glanced back over his shoulder at Monroe, who had moved to the fencer's side. The archer crossed his arms, focused on one person in particular. When the green haired man looked at the being, he smiled. "Cain Adonai. Being a Quincy, I'm sure you know all about him."

Monroe simply nodded. "Stories spread quickly of how powerful he is in Rubato. After all, even drunk and weak, beating Cadenza is no small deal. Still, my only job here is to defeat you. If I get to fight him, I'll defeat him. After all, he's just a stepping stone to you."

The fencer smiled as he looked at the Quincy. "Good luck with that. After all, being your target places me kinda high on the list. Still, focus on the people you're going to fight first. If you don't, you'll be gone after the first round. There are some powerful people here."

"Don't worry, Z," Zachary commented as he stepped moved towards Zorlo from the crowd, "if Monroe loses before I fight him, then why should we be surprised. Not like he's got any chance of winning a head on battle against someone that's powerful," Zachary commented. The ice mage and the dark clad man narrowed their eyes at each other. The two laughed slightly and moved away from the fencer, searching for a place to meditate before their fights, the fencer assumed.

With each stroke of Ziran's fur, the green haired man could feel the kitty spreading out in his arms and purring. If Zorlo wasn't careful, the Aura Master would have to keep a sleeping kitty safe. Still, that wouldn't be too hard. Mostly since the fencer knew his first foe wouldn't be Mercutio.

Emile looked around the room and realized only one thing: she was the only female fighter. "Son of a *****..." she whispered as she looked behind her and saw a blonde haired man with blue tips staring at her. "And now I've got some creepy guy staring at me. Start the God damn battles already," she mumbled as she took a few steps towards the gate to the arena.

The Silver Beauty crossed her arms and looked around again. The blonde haired guy wasn't the only oddball, she noted. A man with green hair, eccentric green hair to be even odder, was standing around holding a cat. Although he was odd, she did not a few other people. A one eyed man in a suit, the red haired guy that she had passed earlier, a dark clad guy with an odd symbol on the back of his jacket, and an even stranger man that just seemed to be there. Who are all these guys? They're all odd.

It was almost time. The fencer stepped forwards and moved towards Mercutio. "It's been quite a long time. How have you been?" the fencer asked with a smile.

“Oh, pretty good, pretty good,” Mercutio answered, returning the smile. He noticed a frail, bald man out of the corner of his eye. This man wore a t-shirt that said, “Event Staff”, and was carrying about a clipboard. Rosaline guessed that he was there to ask for the participants’ names.

“That’s good to hear,” Zorlo said. The man with the clipboard was getting the names of the serial killer and the purple-haired woman. Zorlo continued, “And what have you been up to of late?"

“Very little, actually. All work and no fun. That’s why I’m here,” Mercutio replied. He reached into his pocket and began fishing for a jawbreaker. The fragile man asked a few other people for their names, and then walked over to a large marker board across the room. He started to jot down the day’s matches.

“Sounds like the same reason I'm here... although I've been followed, it seems. Well, its all good. Anyway how do the matches look?” Zorlo said, glancing at the marker board. Rosaline took a look himself.

First Round: Emile vs. Havok - Zorlo vs. Guerraro - Estazio vs. Mercutio - Zachary vs. Ziran - Cain vs. Monroe

“Odd number of matches. I guess somebody’s going to get a by,” Mercutio thought.

The purple-haired woman, whom The Unformed One could only guess to be Emile, headed out the gate to the arena. Havok, the man who’d followed Rosaline in, took a mask and a stick out of his bag and followed her. This would be interesting.

“That woman... she's not that strong looking, so I sense she has a gimmick to give her an edge, mayhap,” the fencer stated, watching the first two warriors leave. Mercutio’s wandering hand finally found a jawbreaker, and he popped it into his mouth with a triumphant smirk.

“Maybe. It should be fun to watch, regardless. Though I'll have to miss the first few minutes. Oh well. When nature calls…” With that, Mercutio rose to his feet and wandered off in search of the bathroom.

OOC: Three cheers for using an IMRP to fill this with dialogue! Hip hip hooray! Hip hip hooray! Hip hip hooray!

OoC: Hip, hip, hooray! ^_^

BiC: The Aura Master watched as the man walked off and turned himself towards the stairs to the spectator area. Even if he were second, getting from there to the arena wasn't any matter of difficulty. It just required him to jump down. Still, of the match ups, only one of them really interested the green haired man in the least. That fight... he thought with a laugh, will cause more destruction, I think, than any other fight before it. Even so, hopefully those two keep in mind not to try to destroy each other.

Still, that fight was a long way away. Monroe was standing on the far end of the spectator area, watching with little interest, and Zachary was probably elsewhere, preparing for his fight. Sadly for Zachary, he's got a fight he can't win. Ziran's just too powerful for him right now. Still, it'll be a good experience for him... after all, Ziran's probably one of the most powerful people here.

Everyone's eyes turned to the central stage as the announcer stepped out onto his podium, holding his microphone tightly in his hand. "EVERYBODY LISTEN! Today we have great match! Today we crown new king of battle!"

Zorlo couldn't help but laugh a little at the way the man spoke. Not so much because it sounded funny, but because of the man's enthusiasm. "This'll be a fun tournament, I can already tell."

"Round one! Set! Fight!" the announcer said as the gates opened slowly.

From the first gate, a burst of sand kicked up as a shining silver armor clad person emerged and began to burst laps around the ring like it was nothing. With a powerful skid, Emile stopped and looked around, waving her arms. Ever the crowd pleaser, she smiled as she removed her spear from her back. Time to show these men what they're up again, she mused as she awaited her foe.

"First fighter! The Silver Beauty! Miss Emile!"

A bolt of lightning shot from the end of the armored warrior's spear as she looked around. "There is only one champion! And that'll be me!" The crowd rose in an uproar of support as she spoke and cheered even louder.

Quite a crowd pleasing show boat. Still, she's got no hope against anyone of repute here, Monroe thought as he looked at her. Still, that armor she's wearing is rather fascinating. After it gets stripped off by whoever is fighting, maybe I'll help myself to a piece of it to see what its made of.

Zachary watched the battle from the gate and scoffed at the woman. If she plans to talk her foes to death, then maybe she'll win. Still... I don't know anything about this Havok guy she's fighting. Let's see how you handle, little flower, Zachary thought as he rested Mobius against the ground and smiled.

"Now then, for Miss Emile's foe!" the announcer said as he pointed towards the gate that Havok was about to come through. "Let the battle starttttt!"

“Hey! What do you mean, ‘Let the battle start’?!” the serial killer yelled as he made his entrance. He pointed his kendo stick at the announcer and wiggled it a bit, in what was apparently a threatening gesture that only Havok understood. “Announce MY name before you start!”

“Err. Second fighter! Mister Havok!” the announcer said.

“No, no, no, NO!” Havok yelled. The stick wiggling increased in its intensity. “HAVOK. Not Mister Havok! Havok! No ‘Mister’!”

“Eh, second fighter, Havok!” the announcer corrected himself.

The stick killer smiled and started absent-mindedly twirling his weapon as he headed towards the center of the arena. He looked at his competition and smiled. Such a pretty girl, and such shiny armor! Starting off, he’d have to aim for wherever the armor wasn’t covering her.

If he was going to get a clear shot at one of her vulnerable spots, he needed to put her in a predicament in which she wasn’t thinking clearly. What could he do? Get her drunk? No, nothing to drink, and he wouldn’t be able to force her. Woo her with his sex appeal? Nah, she was obviously a lesbian. Tick her off? Bingo!

“Nice armor,” Havok complimented his foe. His eyes were firmly trained on her breasts. “It makes it seem like you actually have boobies.”

“You’re so ****ing dead,” Emile replied, narrowing her eyes at him.

“What? I thought that was the look you were going for? The ‘physically-enhanced’ look?” the mass murderer asked, scratching his head in mock confusion.

“Even if I was, it isn't something a **** stupid person should point out,” the Silver Beauty snapped. Her hands were clenching her spear so hard that Aaron King guessed her knuckles to be white. Oh, this was so much fun!

“Oh. In that case, I think you should-” Havok cut himself off mid-sentence, suddenly charging at his opponent.

~

“Always lies in your eyes, settles in your action,” Mercutio sang to himself as he zipped his pants. He flushed the urinal and walked over to one of the sinks, his Zune playing ‘Falling Apart’ full blast. “Jeopardize everything that I want, and I won’t compromise anything anymore, in any way victimize myself any more…”

He started the sink…

“Liberty, YEAH!”

The sudden shout caused a man in a nearby stall to be scared ****less, literally. Rosaline began to sing the chorus as he washed his hands, blissfully unaware of the man’s plight.

“Manipulations on my mind, expectations well defiiiiine. Frustrate me! Liberate me! Cause everything’s falling apaaaaaart, you can’t control me, you can’t control me…”

He dried his hands and left without another peep.

"Right, right, whatever you say," the woman said as she smiled. This guy was so freaking doomed. After those statements, she planned to beat the hell out of him the old fashioned way. Emile spun her spear and stabbed it into the ground as she looked at her foe. This man... Havok, charged blindly like he had something to gain. Still, that was what made these fights all the more fun: stupid people that thought they could outsmart her.

His kendo stick moved quickly, but Silver Beauty didn't really take note. She wound up a powerful right backhand and struck the stick with the full force of her right forearm. The weapon recoiled and dented her armor slightly as she winced a little. He had just dented her armor with a stick, hadn't he? That was the first time it occurred to her that this guy might not be as weak as he looked. Or as stupid. Nah, just the first one.

The lancer fired up her boosters and jetted forwards, delivering the first painstaking blow with a powerful fist to the abdomen. The man's heels skidded back as she smiled. She knew that blow had hurt. No matter how strong a person was, without armor, that kind of hit surely had some kind of an effect.

Still, the purple haired girl watched in terror as the man slowly got back up. No... no way. Even in the Stadium, that blow would have been more than enough to take down any normal Roller Fighter. But this guy is just getting up like nothing happened. Maybe I have more of a battle than I thought I would at hand.

Emile looked at the man with his silly top hat and couldn't help but say, "Nah." Quickly, the woman began skating again towards the man, readying to strike again. This time, she'd hit him hard and fast enough that he wouldn't get up, and that she'd make sure of. With a skid, sand kicked up between the two, a helpful smoke screen she could see through thanks to her helmet, and readied another powerful punch, but this time to be followed by a barrage of punches.

Still, before she could make a move, she watched in terror as her armor took a serious barrage of strikes. The armor covering her biceps took several blows as she blocked, the shoulder took a bit of damage, and a last blow to her helmet sent the young woman rolling out of the smoke screen.

Emile stood up slowly and looked at the dents in her armor. Clearly, fighting this guy without a weapon would prove to be dangerous... she could tell that after just that barrage. Emile fired up her boosters again and moved backwards on them, sliding by and grabbing her spear as she passed. A smile passed over the woman's face as she spun her weapon and readied to make her next move. "Get ready, because here I come!" the Silver Beauty yelled as her thrusters fired up again and she lashed out in a forward lunge. She'd show him. He'd pay for his rude comments and the damage to her armor.

o=)---------- Meanwhile ----------(=o

Although Monroe and Zachary were less then entertained at the battle, Zorlo found himself thinking ahead. The ice mage had come into the stands in order to get a better view. The red haired boy had been mildly interested in the fight, but found that interest fading. "She's going to win... you think?" Zachary asked Zorlo as he looked at the green haired man.

"Yes... even with his great physical strength, her armor gives her all the edge she needs. Also, without the ability to deal any real damage, he's bound to be taken down before he knows what hit him." the Aura Master looked at his assistant and smiled. "You, however, should be focusing on your match. You've got a hard fight ahead of you."

"A hard fight?" the ice mage responded as he quirked an eyebrow at Zorlo. "What do you mean? That cat guy didn't seem very strong."

The fencer laughed. "Although he didn't seem very strong, I can tell you that he is very strong. Perhaps stronger than Monroe and Cain, but you'd never know it. Ziran's too kind hearted and good a person to even want to hurt someone. Just be careful Zachary... I'm telling you this as a friend. Don't underestimate him."

The ice warrior nodded a little bit but didn't completely trust what Zorlo was saying. If Ziran really was that strong, he wouldn't know until they fought, so it didn't matter anyway. The ice mage would just have to wait to see how strong the cat-boy was.

Havok sidestepped the lunge and struck his opponent across the chest with his kendo stick. He reared back for a second blow, but caught a jab with the bottom of Emile’s spear. The jab caught him off guard and made him stumble backwards a bit. His foe capitalized on his temporary weakness by sweeping the killer’s feet out and sending him face first into the sand.

“This shouldn’t last much longer,” Mercutio mused to himself. He sprawled out on his seat and looked about him. Cain was sitting a few seats away, and looking at the Unformed One. The vampire probably recognized his voice from the gypsy incident a few days earlier.

Rosaline smirked and turned his attention to Ziran, who was still in kitten form. The loveable fluff ball was wandering aimlessly through the stands. Every now and then a kind individual would pet him or give him a piece of popcorn, eliciting a happy “Mew!” or a grateful lick.

“Interesting,” Mercutio thought, yawning and digging through his pocket for a jawbreaker. Ziran was bound to win his match, and Cain seemed to have a decent chance of winning his own. As for himself, he was sure that he’d be able to beat his first opponent with relative ease.

Back in the arena, Havok was being beaten without mercy. Every time he landed a few good shots, Emile would counter with a devastating blow that’d knock the pain eater flat on his back. Her armor made it impossible for him to cause her pain, which was making this a very difficult ordeal.

A powerful blow knocked Havok to his hands and knees yet again. He looked up at his opponent’s smiling face and hocked a loogie at her. The glob of spit struck her visor and stayed there for a moment before dripping off. Her smile turned into a look of disgust, and she booted him several feet into the air.

It was in mid-air that the serial killer formulated a plan. Her visor was obviously the thinnest part of her armor, right? All he had to do was break through it, and he might have a chance! Havok smiled as he landed in a heap.

When his foe came over to check on him, he made his move. The pain eater sprang to his feet and lashed out with his weapon, aiming for his foe’s visor. The sudden attack surprised Emile long enough for him to get a nice blow, but his attack only succeeded in cracking the visor. She knocked him aside before he could get a second hit in.

Mercutio found that he was enjoying this one-sided fight, and the sight of Emile in particular. She was definitely unique. She was not one of the plethora of swordsmen, mages, and martial artists that usually frequented these tournaments. This woman was a breath of fresh air.

“And I’ll probably get to fight her,” he thought. That’d be a shame. Her armor looked like it took a painstaking amount of time to work on, and he didn’t want to damage it. Maybe he could find a way to win without causing too much damage to her armor? It’d certainly be a creative experience.

The fencer appeared next to this man, Mercutio, and smiled. "Not much of a match, is it?" The blonde haired man simply nodded, still a bit consumed with the battle at hand. "Unfortunately, there is only one good match today. And that match, luckily, is the last match." The being of Tainted Element simply shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm mostly interested in how Cain's new powers are developing. After all, a drunk Cadenza isn't much of a fight. For anyone," Zorlo joked as he smiled at the man, knowing that was wholly untrue.

"I'm beginning to wonder where it is you get your information from," Mercutio commented, still smirking.

The Aura Master laughed as he coughed a few times. After clearing his throat, the green haired man tried to make his voice as sinister and evil sounding as possible as he said the next words he felt coming. "A great eye... wreathed in flames."

Mercutio flicked a piece of popcorn at the fencer and laughed a little. "Bad time for bad jokes," he said as the two turned their attention back to the battle.

"Do not doubt Monroe. Although the vampire may be a little bit stronger, the Quincy is doubtlessly more clever. After all, he's got a strategic mind like no other. Still, limited resources to use to his advantage here, but still enough to fight well."

Things fell quiet for a second as only the sound of battle wrung out.

o=)---------- ----------(=o

Aside from a few dents in her armor and a crack in the visor of her helmet, Emile had, thus far, been unharmed. She spun her spear as he avoided a series of quick strikes by skating backwards. When chance presented itself, as it always did, she spun around and kicked the stick to the side, using her shin guards as a shield, and then moved in. A powerful kick to the abdomen followed her quickly as he swung her helmet forwards.

The sound of metal striking flesh and bone caused a series of disgusted, and frankly terrified looks to peoples' faces. Still, the adrenaline was rushing in her body and it wasn't about to slow down now. Chance, however, knocked not only for her, but for the pain eater as well.

A powerful blow to the side of the lancer's helmet, probably brought about by the double he might have wound up seeing from her strike, caused her to hit the ground hard and skid a few inches. The woman stood up slowly and tried to shake the ringing out of her head. That had been very, very annoying.

"That's it... I've had enough of this... I'm done playing around with you. Weaklings like you don't belong here," he stated as she pushed herself up. It took a second before the woman realized that the giant man that stood over her had already somewhat recovered. He swung that crazy stick of his down again, and Silver Beauty responded as she normally did: she raised her spear and intercepted the blow.

Sand kicked up around where their two weapons met. Emile's spear showed signs of a dent where his stick had struck ands he winced as she pushed against his kendo stick. He felt stronger, even if ever so slightly, than he had a few seconds again. What's going on? Obviously he was holding back... but there shouldn't be this much of a gap in our powers even if he was. Still... he's done.

The purple haired girl's armor began to glow in her arms as she increased energy output. Quickly, she pushed the killer's weapon back almost as if all of the strength he had just gained were nothing. "Give up, my armor is space ages ahead of your fighting style." A powerful push to the side threw Havok's would be sword to the side. Emile released her spear from her right hand, holding it only with her left, and swung her right fist into the murderer's chest.

Flesh in his abdomen recoiled as his body fired into the wall from the punch the woman fired off. "Now then... I'll end this with my next move," Emile stated as she spun her spear around and grasped it in both hands. "One move!" she said as lightning began to gather at the tip of her spear. Her thrusters fired up. "Gae Bolg!" she yelled as her body exploded forwards. She had set up a way to end this battle with style.

Sitting in the fifth row was a young man. Somewhere in his late teens or early twenties, with medium-length dirty blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, he sat and watched the tournament with relative disinterest. He didn’t care about the armored woman, though he had to admit that she was kind of hot, and he definitely didn’t care about the serial killer.

He drummed his fingers on his lap and stared at the battle with glazed eyes. If anybody cared to look at him, they’d find a man who was deep in thought, and his face betrayed the fact that he didn’t have good intentions. This young man wasn’t interested in the current combatants, oh no. He was interested in a certain one-eyed vampire, and a man known as the Technological Quincy.

Of course, he was here on a scouting mission for now. There were other operatives planted in the first two rows that were here to attack the vampire and his opponent. He was only here to observe. The young man didn’t think that the other operatives would be able to handle the duo, which he didn’t really mind. Seeing the operatives get slaughtered would give him a chance to study his future foes’ powers.

And so he waited and watched.

~

“You’re going DOWN!” Havok hollered at the top of his lungs, charging at his opponent. All sense of strategy was long gone by now. His inability to harm her was infuriating, and the relative ease with which she tossed him around was becoming very irritating.

Emile twirled her spear, electricity practically oozing off of the tip, and struck the finishing blow. She violently rammed the spear into the serial killer’s gut. As if having a spear stabbing into him wasn’t bad enough, the massive discharge of electricity launch him through the air seemed almost like overkill. Havok was unconscious long before his bloody and beaten body hit the ground.

~

Mercutio applauded with the rest of the crowd. That was something you didn’t see every day! Fighting her later would be a treat. That is, if he got through his own first round match… Which he was sure he would.

He looked to Zorlo several seats away, who was getting ready for his own fight. Mercutio smiled and jovially shouted, “Good luck, Leafy Green!”

He really didn’t think Zorlo needed it.

A man stood in the very back of the arena's seating area, hiding among the shadows. Why, you ask? Very simple: this man wasn't the kind of person to stand out in the open. Again you ask why? Well, for one reason: he was an albino. More to the point, this man was an albino wearing a white almost vest jacket with gold trimmings where it was buttoned, on the collar, on the sleeves, and around the waste. Aside from that, he wore long white pants without a spec of dirt or grime. In fact, everything this man wore seemed to almost glow white or gold, depending on what part.

From this man's hip hung a sword with a golden handle and hand guard, with a golden sheathe to match. The man's piercing red eyes seemed to burn through the darkness, and the white skin of his face and neck, the only skin one could see, could almost be seen in the darkness. The man pulled his white gloves tighter around his hands as he watched the fight end. The two of them, while entertaining, weren't any of his concern. He was here as support, whatever that meant. Still, the fight he was waiting for hadn't come up yet. All he was ordered to do was watch.

o=)------------- ------------(=o

Emile had long left the battlefield when the next two fighters entered. The green haired man had quite literally leapt over the railing into the battle pit, whereas his foe had simply walked through the gate. "Round two: Zorlo vs. Guerraro! Match... START!"

The dark skinned man, or really, creature, smiled at the fencer as a spear formed in his hand and he took a step forwards. "Quite serendipitous that I'd fight the legendary Zorlo. Too bad you're going to-" the man was about to say as the fencer lifted a single finger.

"Hold on. I'm going to warn you once: withdraw and you won't get hurt. If you refuse... I'll defeat you with one attack!"

The man laughed, seeming to think that the fencer was joking. "Well, Aura Master, since I'm so interested in seeing that, I'm going to let you make the first move, and see if it really does what you think it will."

"Oh, it will," Zorlo commented as he extended his right hand and a small ball of aura formed. Over the next few moments, the ball of aura grew and grew, beginning to act like a vortex and draw everything in the arena towards it. "Sadly, I don't have time to spend on this fight, so I'm going to use something that I normally wouldn't. Good bye!"

The man's eyes went wide as he changed from being pulled towards Zorlo to rushing at the Aura Master. The man leapt into the air and pulled back his spear, readying to strike. "Farewell!" With that, the green haired man closed his hand quickly, crushing the orb he had formed. From that action, a powerful shock wave erupted from Zorlo's hand that blasted the man backwards and into the wall nearest to where he had emerged from the gate.

The dust cleared slowly, revealing little to no damage to the arena... except for where the other combatant had hit. The crowd that could see it looked on in shock as the man the fencer had been fighting found himself buried like six inches into the wall he hit. Shock swept over the people watching as the fencer walked out. The only cry that followed was the announcer's about the winner. "Your turn, Merc!" Zorlo called up as he leapt back into the stands.

“And now for the next fight!” the announcer, well, announced, for lack of a better word. The crowd was slowly beginning to get over the shock of the last fight. A few scattered cheers arose here and there.

“Entering first! Mercutio!”

Mercutio Rosaline meandered out to the arena, and received a few cheers. He cheerfully waved at the crowd and popped a jawbreaker into his mouth. The Unformed Incarnate kept his jacket on, as he expected this to be a short fight.

“Entering next! Estazio!”

A dark-skinned man leapt into the arena. He was nearly a foot taller than Mercutio, muscular, and held a look of utter joy. Estazio could smell the Tainted Element inside Mercutio Rosaline’s body, and it smelled delicious.

“Ready! BEGIN!”

Mercutio and Estazio both took very different approaches to the fight. Whilst the primitive echo formed a massive axe out of Tainted Element, The Unformed One checked to see what song was playing on his Zune. When Estazio began to charge, Mercutio looked at his Zune and adjusted the volume.

The crowd watched intently. Estazio was quickly closing the gap between Mercutio and himself. Each step brought him closer and closer to ending the Avatar of Destruction’s life. Or so he thought. The primitive echo had now idea how wrong he was.

“Move!” Ziran shouted from the stands, eyes wide with childlike shock as Estazio bared down on his foe. The brute swung his axe down with all the force he could muster, and brought it down directly onto Mercutio’s head. A collective gasp escaped the lips of many an audience member.

There the opponents stood, one man’s axe driven into the other’s head. Estazio laughed triumphantly and gazed at his enemy. He stopped laughing the instant he saw the smile on Mercutio Rosaline’s face.

“That could‘ve been very bad,” Mercutio said. Estazio was confused. How could this man be talking when an axe was lodged halfway through his head? He found his answer when Mercutio took one step to his left side.

The axe hadn’t cut through Mercutio’s head. On the contrary: The axe itself had somehow been partially absorbed when it struck The Unformed One, creating the illusion that it was stuck in his head, when Rosaline himself had actually been stuck in the axe!

The Avatar of Destruction grabbed the axe. Where he touched it, the axe sizzled and turn into purple energy, which was quickly absorbed into the blonde man’s being. Estazio was too shocked at the sight to move.

“Let me give you a little advise, sir,” Mercutio Rosaline said, smiling cheerfully as he pulled out a piece of gum and slowly unwrapped it. “You are a primitive echo, and a weak one at that. You, and your weapons, are made out of Tainted Element. My soul is full of more Tainted Element than you could possibly imagine. That makes you, and any Tainted Element you possess, easy to control as I see fit.”

Mercutio suddenly lunged forward and grabbed Estazio’s face. The primitive echo was gone before he’d even had the chance to scream. Within a flash, less than a second, the brute’s body was morphed into purple energy and absorbed by The Unformed One.

“I win,” the victor said, putting the unwrapped piece of gum into his mouth and casually strolling out of the arena. He readjusted the volume on his Zune and switched songs.

Zorlo smiled as he watched the ease at which Mercutio won his fight. He wasn't too amazed. After all, their enemies were made of Tainted Element. If Mercutio had lost, then the fencer might have worried, just a small bit. "Congrats, Mercutio!" the green haired man called down as the blonde haired man moved up towards the stands.

Everyone else in the stands was, for lack of a better thought, completely frozen by what they had just seen. That is, except for Zachary and Monroe, who had been watching with interest, and Ziran and Cain, who had also kept some relatively bit of interest in the fight. The announcer was looking more and more frazzled as each fight past, trying to hold himself together. "Um... THAT WAS GOOD MATCH, RIGHT!"

The announcer's words caused an uproar in the crowd, keeping them on the edge of their seat was the job of the fights. "Next match! Ziran vs. Zachary!" the announcer yelled. His voice echoed through the halls as the gate where the ice mage stood opened up and he entered into the arena.

"Finally, my turn," the red haired warrior stated as he drew Mobius and stabbed the sword into the ground. "I'll show Monroe and Zorlo just how strong I've become. I'll prove that I can fight equally with both of them now!" the swordsman said as he looked at the other gate.

The air began to cool and ice spears began to form in the air around the ice innate as he awaited the emergence of his target. The cat boy entered the arena and smiled. The coos of "Aw!" filled the arena for a few seconds as the announcer made his call.

"Fourth fight, Go!"

"I'll start off slow, don't worry," the ice mage said as he finished creating his three ice spikes and moved his hand forwards, firing them at Ziran. "Don't worry, I'll go easy on you!" the red haired warrior stated, forgetting about the warning Zorlo had given him.

“So, the last Aura Master, and the Avatar of Destruction,” the blonde teen with blue eyes mused. He sighed and leaned back in his seat. If he hadn’t been specifically told to sit and observe, he would’ve gladly taken out Zorlo and Mercutio.

When his cell rang, he sighed and pulled it out of his pocket. The caller ID said that the caller was his boss, one of the seated members of DAM. He let the phone ring a few more times before answering it.

“Are they everything you expected?” a female voice inquired.

“A little more, actually. I should be able to take them out though,” the teen answered. He rested his free hand on the sheath of his sword.

“No Matt, leave them be for now. You’re here on a scouting mission for the vampire and the quincy. You can go after the Aura Master and The Unformed One later, on your own time,” his boss said.

Matt grumbled with disappointment, but told her that he would indeed do that. He hung up the phone and crammed it back into his pocket. This day was looking to be more and more boring…

~

Cain watched with a smile on his face. Though his catlike friend tended to annoy him, he had to admit that Ziran was indeed very powerful. He didn’t expect this fight to last very long, depending on how playful the catboy felt.

“That windigo doesn’t even know his own strength,” Adonai thought, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lighting one up. Smoking was a terrible habit, and he planned on quitting soon. After this tournament, maybe.

~

Mercutio watched as well, though he didn’t bother to turn his Zune off. Like Cain, he didn’t expect this to be a very long fight. Zachary had no idea what he was getting into. Ziran Kunto was, just as Zorlo had warned the ice mage earlier, perhaps even more powerful than Cain and Monroe.

“Should be fun to watch,” he said to himself, smiling.

~

Ziran laughed and leapt into the air. He manipulated the wind around himself and took flight with ease, nimbly dodging the ice spikes. This seemed like it was going to be a whole lot of fun for the catboy.

“Okay Mister Zachary! You go easy on me and I’ll go easy on you!” Kunto cheerfully shouted, dive-bombing the ice mage.

The white robed man moved almost effortlessly from the back and sat next to the blonde haired man and watched the fight. "This fight, like all of these fights so long, will be a waste of our time. Most of these fighters aren't even strong enough for you to concern yourself with. But five among them could probably defeat you, lad."

His thick, scottish accent held a great deal of power and understanding about it. The sword rested at his side didn't move in the least as he looked at the two fighters in the arena. "When this ends, lad, its time for you to get ready to mobilize. For me, as yer support, I'll be up here. If you need my help, yell. And let it be before yer about to be impaled with your own sword," the paladin said as he rose and walked back into the back.

Albino knew this boy wouldn't ask for help. He was foolish and brazen, but at least he was strong. He was unlike those bastards that polished their seats with their butts and actually went into the world to cleanse its darkness. This was their goal. And he? Well, he was an instrument of divine wrath on earth.

o=)----------- ----------(=o

Monroe's arm twinged as he looked at Ziran and began to gauge his reiatsu. He was... to put it bluntly, extremely powerful. Despite his very playful, cat-bodied exterior, his strength was great. This won't last long... there are only two people here that are, in their raw strength, stronger than that cat thing. Well, too bad for Zachary that he doesn't know what he's up against.

The Quincy remained sitting, actually intent on watching the battle. "It won't last long, but hey, at least it'll be mildly entertaining for those people who want to see a good show."

o=)----------- -----------(=o

Zorlo looked at the man and nodded. "It won't last very long. Zachary's over eager. This battle won't last long enough to be too enjoyable." The fencer sighed as he crossed his arms. "Well, the sooner this ends, the better."

o=)----------- -----------(=o

Zachary watched the skill at which the cat boy used to evade and quickly gauged what he assumed he was up against. An agile foe, yes, but perhaps he could be overpowered. The ice mage swung his sword along the ground and dragged the weapon's blade as he brought the blade over in an overhead arc. The sword cut the air with great strength, but Ziran easily side stepped the attack and smiled.

Not missing a beat, the ice innate quickly dragged his sword along the ground again as he spun around and launched a horizontal strike. The wind mage leapt over the attack and smiled as he brought down his attacks. With a quick spin, the cat warrior kicked the swordsman in the chest and caused Zachary to stumble backwards.

"Not bad, mister, but here I go!" the cat boy stated as he rushed forwards and quickly began to pound into the ice mage's chest with a very quick barrage of punches into the man's stomach, slowly pushing him backwards. "And here we go!" Ziran stated as his last punch connected with the ice mage's face and sent Zachary flying through the air.

The swordsman's face scraped along the dirt as he rolled over slightly and fell onto his back. The red haired warrior stared up at the sky blankly as he rolled over and slowly pushed himself to one knee. Although it took a lot of effort, due mostly to the amount of pain he was now in from that offensive, the ice mage stood up again.

Okay... slashing won't work... so maybe magic? I don't know, this guy keeps getting the better of me... what can I do?! the ice mage thought angrily as he swept his hand in front of himself and launched a barrage of ice spikes at the Wendigo.

Ziran smiled and laughed a little, having a great deal of fun, as he leapt from ice spike to ice spike towards the ice mage. Zachary moved quickly and moved to swing his sword at where Ziran landed, bearing the blade down with all of his might. His sword did, indeed fall, but it didn't meet Zachary's satisfaction. In fact. Ziran Kunto had caught the sword between his hands.

The ice mage's eyes widened as he pushed his sword forwards, trying to overpower the cat boy. I'm not done yet. Not done yet!" the ice innate roared as he formed up an ice spike in his hand and thrust the spike towards Ziran. This would work. He didn't have any time to dodge this attack.

“I see your memory is as horrible as your fashion sense,” Matt remarked, looking at his ally’s white robes. The young man yawned and stretched. Being near this guy always made him feel fidgety. “I’m just here on a scouting mission. I’m not much in the mood for fighting a vampire and some guy who can make a bow out of thin air.”

Matt really didn’t feel like fighting. He was bored, yes. He wanted to kill something, yes. Matt Rosencruex didn’t want to have a fight today, though. He’d rather watch the operatives hidden in the first two rows fight with the vampire and the quincy. The vampire and quincy would probably win, but it’d be entertaining nonetheless.

“If you want to fight them, you’re free to do so,” he informed the white-robed man. “I’m staying here.”

~

“So, looking forward to your fight?” Mercutio asked. Cain, annoyed at Mercutio’s presence, merely shrugged and continued to watch the fight. He recognized the Avatar of Destruction’s voice from an earlier incident involving Cadenza, but didn’t feel like confronting The Unformed One right now.

“You know, Cadenza’s in love with Rain,” Mercutio Rosaline suddenly informed him with a small smile. That was something that Adonai couldn’t ignore. Cadenza had a lover? So that meant that she was over Johnny Bones’ death, right? Then why did this strange man encourage him to make the gypsy hate him!

“You son of a *****,” Cain coldly remarked, looking at Mercutio with a hateful glare. What kind of game was this guy playing?! “If you knew that she was over Johnny’s death, then why did you encourage me to make her hate me?”

“Humility, of course,” the Avatar of Destruction replied, popping a jawbreaker into his mouth. Humility? HUMILITY? The Class S vampire almost ripped this odd man’s throat out then and there. The only thing keeping him from doing it? He kind of respected the manipulative bastard. Anybody who’d royally mess with somebody else just for kicks was fine by him.

“Humility, eh?” Cain asked. He respected Cadenza quite a bit. This odd man probably knew that.

“Yes, humility. Cadenza is a human, yet you still respect her,” Mercutio explained, sucking on the hard candy. “Now, you’re going to apologize to her, but it’s going to hurt like hell to do so. I know how prideful you are, Cain. This’ll be fun.”

Adonai grumbled. This guy was right.

~

Zach was right. Ziran wouldn’t be able to dodge this attack. The catboy knew this, of course, so he didn’t bother dodging. Instead, he kept his hold on Zachary’s blade and contorted his body to swing a foot upwards. He kicked the side of the ice spike and knocked it off its course, so that it missed his midsection by a mere few inches.

“That was a close one!” Kunto gleefully shouted. This was fun!

The catboy pushed the ice mage’s blade aside and kicked him in the face.

Zorlo had seen the paladin, if only for a second, and then he was gone. The boy he had been talking to seemed to be merely talking to thin air at that point. The fencer could recall having met this man... once before, mayhap. Still, he couldn't completely recall when. Still, that attire... and that man was strong. Stronger than the boy next to him, for certain, so definitely someone worthy of some praise.

The Aura Master listened next to the discussion between Mercutio and Cain and smiled a little bit. After a short laugh, he recalled how well things like that worked out. "I knew they'd work out in the end," he told himself, smiling ear to ear. Still, the sound of Zachary's body taking a beating soon reached his ears again and reminded him of the pain the boy was going through.

I told Zachary to fight as he is, and not to use his Half Elemental form... I doubt he'll use it, since he's got too much pride to fight with it often, but still... No doubt about it, though, Ziran's going to win. It's just a matter of heartbeats now.

o=)----------- -----------(=o

The kick was staggeringly powerful. Zachary stumbled back and quickly regained his footing, slashing his sword horizontally again, only to watch Ziran leap over it and kick him in the back of the head. The ice mage stumbled forwards, having to stab his sword into the ground to stop himself from falling over. Everything hurt, but he wasn't about ready to give up.

"I've got it... just enough to finish this off... I can still win," he stated, standing his blade up straight and drawing the sword from where it was impaled. The ice innate held the blade in front of himself and closed his eyes. Focusing his magical energy through his blade, the red haired warrior quickly began to create thick, razor sharp spears of ice. Seven in all began to circle around him as they stopped and floated, all pointed at Ziran.

"I'll finish it with this ice storm," the ice mage stated boldly as he reeled his hand back. "I'd like to see you avoid this," he said, thrusting his hand forward and launching the ice blades at the cat boy. Now was the time to see if Ziran could really handle a foe like Zachary, as the boy praised himself. After all, this guy couldn't be that much stronger than Zachary was.

This was one place where the ice mage couldn't have been more wrong.

“Hey, who do you think is gonna win this fight?” some fat tourist asked Matt. The Legend Killer shot a criticizing glance at the rotund man and shrugged. To Matt, shrugging typically told somebody that you don’t wish to speak to them. Shrugging was basically a cold shoulder, in his eyes. In this tourists eyes, a shrug seemed to be an invitation to a conversation.

“I think the guy with the ice stuff will win,” the tourist said. Matt watched with disgust as the tourist pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. The thin cancer stick looked like a toothpick compared to the tourist’s sausage-like fingers. The DAM agent vaguely wondered if this lard of a man had a wife, or girlfriend. He probably did. There was an engagement ring jammed onto one of his fingers.

The tourist continued to talk, but the younger man didn’t really pick up on any of the words. He just watched the man’s jiggling jowls shake, his dry lips shifting to form the syllables of each word he spoke, a bead of sweat that was making its way down the side of the man’s head. Was it hot out? Matt didn’t know.

Rosencruex forced himself to take his focus away from the tourist. He looked alternatively at his boots, and his hands. Boots, hands, boots, hands. Good God, he was bored.

“Don’t get me wrong, my wife’s nice and all, but she usually doesn’t like me coming to the fights, and she blahblahblahblahBLAHBLAHBLAH.”

Matt seriously considered punching the tourist out.

~

“Ziran’s got this handled,” Cain said, trying to steer the conversation away from Cadenza. He didn’t want to think about having to apologize to a human, nor did he want to think about harming the lover of a man he greatly respected. The vampire preferred to think of something that was clean, guiltless. Something that didn’t involve him, like the fight.

“Oh yeah,” Mercutio replied, chewing and swallowing the last little bit of his jawbreaker. He pulled a stick of gum out of his pocket, switching from one oral fixation to another. The gum went in his mouth, the wrapper into his pocket, and his eyes shifted from Cain to the fight.

Neither one of them thought that this would last much longer. Ziran was far, far too powerful.

~

Ziran Kunto thrust his hand out, keeping his playful smile, and a tornado burst forth from his palm. The whirlwind lurched towards the spears and overtook them. Though the ice spears managed to push through the attack until they were within inches of the catboy’s palm, the tornado eventually stopped their momentum completely.

A fraction of a second later, and the tornado launched the spears right back at the ice user.

Zachary watched in terror as his blades stopped. To his even greater terror, the ice spears were turned on him by a powerful blast of wind. As hard as he tried to stop the blades, the ice mage couldn't quite stop his own attack, but at least he slowed them. There wasn't any time to counterattack. There was time to block, and perhaps that was his best hope.

The red haired boy reached for his sword, hoping to be able to use it to defend himself from the attacks. However, after the first spike ripped into his hand, the swordsman realized he had no chance. His right hand recoiled as blood dripped from the hole the ice lance had produced in his hand and watched the others come. This was going to suck.

The next six spikes ripped into him with a very short period of time between them. One had pierced his collarbone on his right side; another had pierced the left side of his abdomen; another had pierced the biceps of his right arm; the fifth spike went cleanly through his left forearm. The sixth spike stuck out of Zachary's left thigh. The seventh ice spear, ironically, had completely missed and was stuck in a wall.

With his left arm, despite the blade stuck between the bones in his forearm, the ice mage began to yank the spike out of his hand. Then his biceps. Then his thigh. Then, with both hands, he removed the one from his collarbone and abdomen. The last spike he pulled out fiercely as he stared at Ziran. The fire still burned strongly in the red haired warrior's eyes, but his body didn't have the same fire. Dulled as the fire was, all Zachary could do was fall down.

Blood streamed from his body as he laid on the ground. The announcer, slightly shocked, announced Ziran's win. Zorlo smiled as he leapt over the crowd again and into the arena. As the medical staff began to arrive, the fencer held his hand over the ice mage and a green dome appeared. Moments later, the dome vanished and Zachary sat up, almost as if he had never been harmed.

"You were right, Z," the ice mage commented, "that cat guy is really strong." With a nod from the Aura Master, the two slowly walked towards the stairs back into the spectator area.

Meanwhile, a figure stirred in the stands. A man wearing an odd, black attire stood up and began to walk towards the arena. He ignored the announcer as his name and the name of his foe were announced. Monroe knew all too well who this foe was.

As the dark clad man walked past the fencer and ice mage, both the Quincy and the fencer stopped and smiled. "I could have taken him, you know," the Technological Quincy boasted.

"Don't worry about Ziran and focus on your foe. You have to beat him first before you'll have a chance to advance or worry about Ziran or I."

Monroe chuckled as he continued to walk, as did Zorlo and Zachary. Within moments, the dark clad man stood onto the battlefield, now swept clean of all the ice spikes and puddles they created. Now then, where was the vampire. He had to be defeated now. After all, it wasn't like Adonai knew what he was up against.

“Yay! I won!” Ziran happily cried, practically skipping back to the stands. The catboy returned to his seat with a large grin on his face. One down, one… err… two to go? Three? Kunto decided not to think about that. He was never any good at math.

“Nice job Ziran,” Mercutio praised the windigo, moving to sit next to him. The Avatar of Destruction handed his furry friend a jawbreaker, which the catboy quickly chewed to bits and swallowed.

“Thanks! Good luck in your next fight!” Ziran said, curling up in his seat. Mercutio Rosaline rested a hand on Ziran’s head and scratched his ears, eliciting a pleased purr from the catboy.

“Thank you, Ziran.” Mercutio smiled.

~

“Oh! This one should be good! I heard from this one guy that he knew somebody who saw this dude beat up another guy really bad!” the tourist exclaimed. Matt groaned. He could almost feel his IQ dropping in this man’s presence.

“And the other guy, the one with the eye patch, he looks pretty tough. I bet he lost his eye in a fight. Don’t you think he lost his eye in a fight? I sure think so! That’s how you know he’s a tough bastard!”

Matt remained silent, keeping his eyes on Monroe. He was afraid that he’d rip the annoying tourist’s throat out if he looked at anything else. The fat man’s voice droned on and on in the Legend Killer’s ear.

“So, I think the guy who’s facing the eye patch guy is gonna win this whole thing. I know that seems like a bold prediction, but that Monroe guy looks like a pussy. The ones who look like pussies always end up winning these things. Like that Zombo, Zero, whatever his name was, the guy with green hair. He looks like a pussy, but he’s tough! And that cat guy! Boy, did he prove me wrong! And-”

Matt turned and glared at the tourist, transfixing the fat man’s dumbfounded eyes with his own cold, steely orbs. The tourist’s lips stopped yakking, and he gulped. Feeling that he’d gotten his point across, Matt turned his attention back to the fight.

“You know, you’ve got one hell of an evil eye, mister. Kindda like this one guy I knew…”

Matt groaned and buried his head in his hands.

~

Cain walked out into the arena with his hands jammed into his pockets. His single eye surveyed the landscape until it found his opponent. The vampire’s indifference was evident in his face.

“AND NOW! MONROE VOSSLER FACING CAIN ADONAI!” the announcer called, his own face bugging out with enthusiasm. Ziran and Mercutio laughed at the sight, whilst Cain wondered if the announcer realized how ridiculous he looked. Matt, unfortunately, still had his head buried in his hands.

“READY! FIGHT NOW!”