From where she was lying on the ground, Robin grimaced. Grim satisfaction had accompanied her successful attack on Sickle, and considering her relatively limited abilities... she'd done better than could have been expected. An attempt at wiping the blood from her face was fruitless, but she'd been ready to at least try and get up. To make the most of what little advantage she'd gained.

At least that was what she had been doing until something ricocheted off of the ground between them, causing her to pause and glance towards the source. It was difficult to hear what the new arrival was saying, even as she turned the side with her good - well, only ear towards him. Stopping the fight? Maybe that was a good thing, but she couldn't help feeling frustrated. If nothing else, she'd managed to put up good resistance, even with the mismatch.

Still, when she thought it through...

Looking at Sickle, she smirked, her damaged hearing leaving her to speak a little louder than most would. "Not looking so hot yourself, buddy." She glanced between her opponent and the newcomer, sighing. "And isn't this exactly the day for killing each other?" Moving to sit up, it was clear that her defiance hadn't faded.

"I'm not done." Not by a long shot. Before Sickle could take that opportunity to slice her into ribbons, she continued. "But... I can take a break for today. Time out. Don't wanna end things too soon, after all." And make no mistake, she intended to pursue this one way or another. Why, she didn't know. Maybe she really did have a death-wish, but that didn't feel like the right word for it. While it functioned similarly, his assessment couldn't be more wrong.

She didn't want to stop living. She wanted to start.

It was hard for her to tell what she thought of Sickle. Not... an enemy, not exactly. Certainly not an ally. But there was something about all this that she was desperate to pursue. Maybe just a representation of the goals she'd failed so badly to achieve. At the end of the day, she just had something to prove. Probing the empty space that had once housed her ear, she couldn't hold back a hiss of pain - the bleeding was starting to slow, but as she'd feared it wasn't growing back.

A permanent reminder, then, of whatever this commitment was. "Good enough for you two, or do we have to hold hands and skip off into the sunset?"

As the girl and the intimidating man walked towards the ring, Sickle cell made a quick stop at the betting booth, laying down a bet of $250,000. Immediately afterwards, the pair began to start talking it out - something that mildly annoyed Tony. To be honest, if you're not going to fight, you shouldn't hold up the rest of the matches. The longer he spent in this stupid field, the more he felt his comfort decreasing, and the more frustrated he grew. Still, it wasn't until the crowd started getting a little annoyed that Tony finally urged the competitors to start combat.

"Alright, time to start the match!"

Tony wished he had some sort of gong or bell, but thankfully, the fighters finally started moving. The girl immediately stepped forwards, striking with her hand before Sickle successfully countered the blow, grabbing her hand with his own. He was blown away after the grab, but the crowd was too busy being pissed at what he did.

"I concede."

Even after getting launched into the cage's metallic bars, a few members of the crowd (particularly the ones that bet on sickle) were upset with the fight ending so quickly, but the laugh emanating from the injured individual quickly silenced any potential complaints. Tony seethed in anger, however - the result of the fight would normally be extremely appreciated, had the bastard not bet so much cash on it. thanks to the current odds, Tony wouldn't make anything off of this night of betting - essentially meaning he had put himself in incredible danger for no reason. Had he access to his power, Tony would have immediately tried to screw over that bastard-

No. He wouldn't have.

Tony was just annoyed, he knew that. He could feel an empty pit in his stomach, the loss of so much potential money and the temporary depravement of his power, Tony was feeling pretty frustrated at the moment. If he was how he was normally, he would never interact with Sickle - the guy was actually good at fighting, while Tony only had a gun that he hardly knew how to use. While thinking to himself, he hadn't listened to the conversation that was being held among the competitors.

"And the unexpected winner of this fight is Automaton. If you want to say the fight is rigged, know that we're making no money off this."

Tony immediately walked back to his seat, ignoring the pair of fighters leave through the double doors. Even if he did see them, he wouldn't have gone after them. Instead, he turned his attention to a young woman who had approached him, betting card in hand.

"Sorry ma'am, but if you have a complaint with the fight, see Pipeline or something."

After several intense rounds of Smash, Vector glanced at the time on her HUD once more. “Damn,” she said. “I’ll better get a move on. Got some heads to knock tonight.”

“I think they said the Circus was going to be televised.” She snorted. “Somehow I doubt it’ll be on primetime tv, but someone’s probably streaming it online. I’m sure Praetor wouldn’t want you all to watch in on the Protectorate stooping as low as the villains to mop up the city.”

“So you should definitely try find it. Later.”

@Gardevoiran

---

The woman chuckled. “I have no problem,” she said, pushing the slip over to him. “But you might.”

“A friendly word of advice. Might be a good idea to stop people betting on the other team in these sorts of matches.” She smiled behind her mask. “Especially with people like Sickle around.”

Glancing at her own odds in the next fight, she paused before leaving. “While I’m here, put me down for £50 on myself winning the next one. Who knows, I might even try.”

@Duoya

---

Pulling some blood tight in around himself, he used the leverage to rise from the ground. His flame had been well and truly quenched, and he wasn’t looking forward to the next few days until he could source a parahuman capable of healing the cracked rib. Or ribs. A hospital wasn’t an option, his scars were too plentiful to be anything less than a tell-tale sign of someone who really shouldn’t get into as much trouble.

Shouldn’t, but did.

The woman was a strange one. She still had fire, even now. He could definitely respect that. Liking her was another matter entirely. It would seem her reason for this battle was barely known, even to her - yet her movements were sure. The entire situation made no sense. Her motives seemed to be fighting for the sake of fighting and little else, which was something Sickle always found abhorrent. He’d bathed the streets in blood, and would countless times before all was said and done, but always for a reason.

He’d clean up this city, but things would always get worse before they got better.

His eyes flicked back and forth between the two people before making a conscious effort to stand up straight, despite the pain. “Well, skipping isn’t really my thing, but I’m sure I can manage it, if you insist.”

“Nevertheless, I agree,” he said, voice growing more serious. “We’ll continue this another time, when we’re both at peak condition. After all, a victory over a handicapped opponent wouldn’t satisfy either of us, would it? We share that, if nothing else.”

@Migyudon@Lasrever@Old Amsterdam@SkinnyTy@PlatinumSkink

Anomaly

---

Xoxi won each of the games against Vector, bar the first (warm-up rounds) while the rest of the Wards watched in surprise and terror. Xoxi had the realization long ago that, due to how her powers worked, she could never actually participate in tournaments without blowing her cover, but honestly it was fine. Sometimes, Anomaly might have to be the one to kick some tail in the tournaments when they start appearing up here and there. Hell, was there one coming to town soon? Anomaly might have to sign up.

[-1 EXASPERATION]

As Vector left, she brought up the Circus. Wasn't that the giant tournament of heroes and/or villains competing for some kind of prize? Holy shit that sounded entertaining to watch. Xoxi stood up in front of the projector in the room as she spoke to the Wards. "Executive decision. I'm gettin' my laptop really quickly."

With that, Xoxi left the room for a few seconds before returning with her laptop and a few more cords. She ran over to the projector and began setting everything up for a livestream of the circus to be projected on the wall where Smash once was. "Excuse the buffering, this isn't tinker tech," Xoxi said to nobody in particular.

"It's a deal." Robin grinned, and even as her wound throbbed in agony the light in her eyes wasn't forced. Technically, there was a good chance that she could get it healed - she was with Wonderland, at the end of the day, even if she felt no loyalty to them or their cause. This, right now, was just preparation. Wonderland, Gladius, Sickle; All obstacles to face, barriers to overcome. There were strengths she could learn to develop, skills she could hone, tactics to prepare.

Because Robin knew she was weak in comparison. That so many in the city could tear her limb from limb before she even had a chance to fight back. But that... that was why she had to fight. Because someone as weak as her could never change things alone - and she was tired of playing this game as someone else's pawn.

What her own goal was, she couldn't be sure. But once she was strong enough, she could work to make something better. Something worth remembering her for, free of anyone else's control. But she could bide her time.

Looking back towards the Circus, Robin laughed, tapping the side of her head. "Well, I don't really feel like answering too many questions about that little scrape, so I guess that means I'm staying out of there." A remarkably relaxed attitude towards losing a body part, but hey; there were worse things that could have happened, and her mind was alive with ideas on how best she could counter Sickle's abilities.

Of course, most of her ideas would have to wait; first course of action was finding a way to cover up her ear situation. After all, turning up with a face half-made of metal wouldn't help her maintain any kind of secret identity, and she couldn't afford to hide away like some kind of hermit. As she turned to leave, she paused and looked at the man who'd stopped their fight. "Before I split, you got a name? Little rude to interrupt without even telling us who you are, you know."

---

Gamble nodded in satisfaction at the end result of this conflict, turning to walk back inside without further thought. He was mildly surprised at the Westin the Tinker had asked, and paused.

"Call me Gamble. I'd invite you to come watch me win this little tournament, but you seem pretty set on leaving," he said with a slight wave before he stuck his hands in his pockets and began walking back inside. "Just go get fixed up before you die, will ya?"

Back inside, things seemed to have began to settle down in preparation of the next batch of fights. Perhaps they would be more interesting than the first.

He almost considered betting on the other matches, but without proper information on the fights... It just wasn't worth betting on anyone but himself.

The projector began to display the rather shoddily captured footage from a old and battered camera set up somewhere around the arena to showcase the spectacle to the world at large. As of this second, there was no-one in the arena, with the feed filled with the hustle and bustle of countless angry people demanding that their bets be made void as a result of Sickle’s surrender.

Of course, Wonderland disagreed.

Naturally, the people continued to whine and moan - at least until Sickle entered the room. Afterwards, they still complained, but did so much quieter.

Kairi grimaced slightly at the display. “Sickle-Cell. He’s the one from earlier today. I wish he’d just stop this crusade of his.”

“Fat chance of that,” Aedan replied. “You’ve got to admit, though, it’s working. I’ve never seen a city full of criminals so utterly scared of one man.”

The Ward leader shook her head. “It’s not one man. It’s the group as a whole. Not even the people, but the ideology behind it. Death and terror as tools to keep the population in line. It works, sure, but it isn’t any different from the sort of stunts the Nazis pulled.” Glancing at the screen, she furrowed her eyebrows. “You can’t tell me he wouldn’t wipe out the entire criminal population of Boston in a heartbeat, if he could.”

“Even if he had the chance to take them alive.”

@Gardevoiran

---

“Luckily, you can leave,” Sickle said with no small amount of disdain. “I have to go and suffer through the rest of this charade knowing full-well I can’t do a thing to stop it.” Turning, he made his way back into the darkness of the Circus. Luckily for him it was dark. It meant no-one could see the slight hobble in his walk.

After the hoo-hah had died down, the Pipeline announced a slight alteration to the night’s line-ups. Knight and Ifrit’s battle against Talion and Kaze would be pushed back to the last of round one, with both sides getting another contender. It was fully intended to become the headline match with the addition of Gamble on the Protectorate side and Zabaniya for the independants. This brought the number of combatants on each team to three in what was a relatively small arena.

And it promised to be one hell of a fight.

In the next fight, Arms Race made a valiant effort at defeating Vegas, what with his teleporting weapon-play, but it was cut short by her hard-light shields locking down his mobility. She took the victory in the second match - much to the dismay of the betters who assumed she’d follow suit and throw the match.

Askaryan and Vector went at one another’s throats more violently than any cape that night had tried to seriously injure one another. On the other hand, Nightlight wiped out the entirety of Geryon’s clones with only a handful of blasts. By the time Vector had settled her win over her rival, she fired a single shot at Nightlight - which he absorbed and used to scorch the arena as a whole. Many people had assumed Vector to cinch it, but her fixation on Askaryan had proved her undoing.

Round number 4 went to Switchboard, by essentially making everyone else defeat one another. Careful and well-planned use of his ability to switch their vision upside down, or trigger muscle-spasms from pain resulted in a very easy victory, even over the feared Caustic.

Achlys and Pipeline dominated their match against the hard-to-hit Funhouse and the hard-to-defeat Painkiller by using the perfect combination of their two powers. Pipeline fed Achlys’s mist form with liquid of his own creation, giving her a variety of properties to choke and gas their opponents with.

Finally, the main event came. As the competitors assembled in the arena, the heroes on one side came face-to-face with their enemies. Black Kaze, still proudly wearing her inmates outfit from Japan from years ago. Zabaniya, the shadow-manipulator dressed from head-to-toe in black studded leather. And the unheard of Talion, standing in an almost aristocratic jacket of crimson. Underneath, however, was a much more combat-oriented sleeveless black vest top. His mask was simple white porcelain, with a cracked black motif over one eye. Through it, his face could be seen, if only slightly.

He visibly took in and sized up his opponents. As his gaze fell on the last of them, the girl in the armour, a barely-audible whisper drifted across. “You shouldn’t be here.”

As Poker Face stood and prepared to announce the beginning of the final match of the first round, a number of figures approached him. The leader of whom was a woman, dressed all in black. Only her mouth was visible beneath her mask.

With a smile, she extended her hand towards the microphone. “My dear, would you kindly hand me that?”

Each word slammed into Tony’s senses like a sledgehammer. An uncanny pressure crushed his very mind, his will, and buckled the world around him. Every syllable was a discordant mess, broken and spoken by a hundred different voices from all directions all at one. The sentence alone stretched on and on, seemingly taking an eternity to actually be finished, even though it should only have taken an instant. Finally, the words began to dull, the ache began to subside.

And the woman stood, with microphone in hand.

She fondly caressed his cheek and blew him a kiss, as she took pride of place looking down on the arena below. One member of her entourage - another girl, all in black - held her hand tightly. Her voice boomed across the room. “Tsk tsk, Talion. We had a deal.”

“Now, be a good boy, and kill them all.”

As his eye glazed over, Talion's shoulders slumped. The sound of his heavy breathing was all that filled the arena, until a quiet growl rose from the man. When he finally looked back to the heroes, it was obvious that whatever restraint had been there was now gone. With a hideous roar, he took off at full=pelt, aiming a solid punch at Gamble.

Conflux, on the other hand, offered the mic back to Tony with a saccarine-sweet smile. "Your co-operation was much appreciated, sweetheart."

@Migyudon@Lasrever@Old Amsterdam@SkinnyTy@PlatinumSkink@Duoya

Anomaly

---

"I know Sickle better than the rest of you kids," Xoxi said glumly as she grabbed a slice of pizza from the box with a psychic hand, holding it over her head. "He's a maniac."

Xoxi took a bite of her slice as she reflected on those feelings she felt. If that was how Sickle-Cell felt on a daily basis, how the hell could he get up every morning? Marwa connected the ideas of Sickle's group with that of Nazis, and Xoxi quickly piped up after swallowing. "That's more like Italy under Mussolini, or the Soviet Union under Stalin, no?" She wasn't a Nazi sympathizer, but there needed to be accuracy with these statements.

Plus, Sickle didn't seem like the type to really give public speeches. Nor was she.

Mag wasn't an expert in any of this. Watching the first fight had been unnerving - not for the violence itself, which there hadn't been that much of, but for the fury of the surging crowds. She'd stayed silent throughout that, fearful of any action that might draw someone's attention. Though she supposed she'd lost out as well, judging by the betting slip she'd pilfered. At least no-one would be coming after her for that, and she'd made a profit off of tonight either way.

She'd noticed the fighters leaving, which was part of why she'd decided to hold on. It felt like she stuck out enough without drawing any attention to herself by walking out early. That, and coming across anyone that would actually fight in this thing didn't seem like a good idea. So she'd stayed there, quiet, waiting for the yelling to subside. Which it did, as Sickle walked back in to the room - though Mag couldn't help noticing that the other one hadn't returned.

Did he kill her? Perhaps it was just Mag's nervousness that lead her to that conclusion, but she'd heard about what Sickle did to people. Everyone had. Whether she was right or wrong, it had cemented her decision to wait until the end. Even if that woman wasn't a good person, Mag didn't want to see anyone carved up like Sickle could do. Of course, she could have asked around, but what if that offended someone, made them angry? She didn't want that - didn't want to do anything wrong. Didn't want to die.

Pale as death, she'd watched the next few rounds in a state of transfixed horror. These people... How could she possibly be anything like that? Like them? She didn't understand, watching them try to tear each other apart, why she had to have any connection to this sort of thing. If anything, watching, she was sinking deeper into denial. She couldn't do something like that to someone. Which raised the question of why she was even keeping the notebook.

Because she was scared, she supposed. Scared to be a cape, but having seen the things that happened in Boston, how difficult it was to just get by without someone trying to hurt her; she was even more scared to let go of that power.

Shaking her head, she looked back towards the arena. It was the last fight. A bunch of independents, some she knew of and some she didn't, against the Protectorate. She didn't get why they were even here to begin with - she'd thought they were meant to be the good guys. And yet, this wasn't anything more than people hurting each other for money... the exact kind of thing they were supposed to stop. It didn't make sense from the teenager's - admittedly naive - point of view.

But she watched anyway, at least until a voice rang out over the speakers. K-kill them all? Her eyes widened, her grip tightening on the notebook in her hands. No, this wasn't good. None of this was good. It would be... smarter to run, wouldn't it? She didn't exactly want anyone knowing she had powers, and she definitely didn't want the PRT to try and send her home or something if they found her. It would make more sense to run.

And yet... she was frozen. She couldn't move, trembling slightly in her seat as she desperately flicked through the worn pages of her book, settling on one that seemed like a safe enough bet. Shaking, her eyes fixed on to the arena, but she didn't try to summon anything yet - honestly, she wasn't even sure if the field would still stop her or not. Whatever the case, it would be a last resort; for now, her gaze remained fixed on the arena, wide-eyed and terrified to see what would come next.




True to her word, Automaton hadn't headed back in to the Circus. Partly because having her regeneration shut off wouldn't be a good idea, and partly because she didn't actually want anyone to stick her ear back on. So, here she was, heading for a walk. Because there wasn't much else for her to do tonight, but there was an opportunity here. After all, the Protectorate were at the Circus, weren't they? And she'd been running a little low on supplies lately, so it was a pretty good opportunity for a few break-ins.

Once she was a safe enough distance from the Circus, she'd taken a minute to clean the blood off of her face and head, the wound finally sealed over. The mutilation was definitely going to take some getting used to in terms of her appearance, not to mention that she felt more than a little vulnerable on that side. Turning her head back and forth was at least able to somewhat cover for her partial deafness. 'Hey, let's challenge Sickle-Cell to a fight, that'll be a great idea'. Not like I regret it, but seriously.

Then again, she'd survived. He hadn't been trying to kill her, but he'd definitely seemed to plan on damaging more than just an ear - she'd given him something to think about either way.

So, what were her priorities right now? New ear, first of all. Second, a way to actually cover it up. Third... well, there were plenty of things. She bled, for one, although fixing that'd be a long-term job. And he'd caught hold of her - so making that a really bad idea to do would be a pretty good idea. Extending her armour - maybe adding some retractable parts to shield her head and torso? Yeah, sounded like a plan.

But all her plans needed parts. Parts that, right now, she didn't have. Hence why she'd ended up here - picking a shop pretty much at random. She'd long since noted which ones were worth taking parts from, because she wasn't going to settle for low-quality. Of course, she could be subtle about it, but that just wasn't as much fun. Plus, trying to sneak around when she couldn't properly hear people coming was a disaster just waiting to happen. Placing her hand on the door, she grinned, a kinetic pulse blowing it off of its hinges.

Hey, a girl was allowed to enjoy a little shopping now and again.

Still annoyed that so much money was lost, Tony hands her the small check, hastily written down for the needed amount. Even though Sickle said that Tony would get any money that would be made from this, he knew for a fact that he wouldn't pay for any losses - That's not the way Tony rolled. He wouldn't work for someone and not get paid, no matter who the asshole that orders him around is-

Breathing calmly, Tony realized he really needed some fresh air - as soon as Sickle came back inside, he'd feel safe exiting and breathing a little. The woman got her ticket, and Tony silently prayed that she lost - when people saw that she came with sickle, a lot of people already betted on her. Of course she didn't - apparently, Sickle and his little buddies were the toughest guys around... Tony was really glad that he wasn't real deep in the Wonderland.

The following matches, luckily, filled Tony's pockets slightly - They went by relatively stress-free on Tony's part, and it wasn't until the beginning of the final match that anything occurred - a woman, oddly dressed even for the weirdos that hung out around here, approached him, just as he was about to begin the last match's announcement.

"Lady, I'm kinda busy here, you should have taken a bet before the ma-"

She cut him off, and upon doing so, Tony found himself without the microphone - the next thing that filled him was rage. This slut dared to come up, while Tony was having a god awful night, take his goddamn microphone, and use her power on him. How the hell could she even use her power - Tony had never heard of another person being able to use it while within the field... Still, it was less the fact jealous that she could use her power.

She had embarrassed him, in front of the massive crowd of criminals and scumbags - any sense of respect and power he held over these thugs was lost the second she placed her hand on his cheek. Thoughts quickly rushed thorough his head, and His hand made it's way to the cool metal in his jacket - he stopped himself quickly, however, and made his way from the area. He was about to shoot that woman in the back of the head - this place was god awful. Tony stood right next to the exit, only waiting to see what would happen - understanding that this woman had some sort of mind-manipulation, he prepared to plug his ears the second she opened her mouth. Or, this was what Tony planned to do, until he heard her say the last line.

As soon as heard that, Tony slowly opened the door, and quickly slipped out of the building. He couldn't give less of a shit - Tony wasn't risking his life for a couple bucks, especially after how crap the bets had been so far. Tony began to quickly make his way back home, moving as swiftly as he could without appearing suspicious. Breathing gratefully, Tony felt the lump in his stomach fill as he left the nullification field - He would have felt even better, had he not been fearing for his life.

---

@Sickle-cell@Lasrever@Old Amsterdam@SkinnyTy@PlatinumSkink@Duoya

---

Mystral felt the ceremony go on for a while. She'd already started tapping her feet impatiently-- and that's when the two figures started to emerge from the halls.

(Ah! Finally some bloodshed!) ..not that she enjoyed seeing it-- but that is what happens in fight clubs right? Mystral wished she had bet more, now hoping it was possible to make a last-minute ticket. She quietly left her seat and walked to where the little peanut vendor-looking stall was.

As she was about to deposit a few bucks, the blaring announcement came. The match was over. "Huh." A little spark interest, and irritation. Mystral slowly pulled her money back into her pocket, and spoke in apostrophe.

"These are the kinds of people in The Circus then?

How. Interesting~" Her only wish was to see that fight, how gruesome the altercation was-- considering it ended so soon.

Of course, she wasn't the wiser of the actual event; it would have annoyed her even more to see someone concede at a split-second even before anything had happened.

The remaining fights, though, sated her. She almost squeezed her ticket in glee! It's been a while since she'd seen two people so hardy, so hell-bent on tearing each other apart! If she'd been that careless with her own specimen, then no answer would come. Her strokes demanded precision almost like she had to paint suffering with diligence.

It was a nice change of pace, to say the least-- even if she had lost on her gamble.

---

(And now the main event!) She had been at the edge of her seat, biting her lip and gripping her umbrella like her life depended on it

--how true that may be now after the interruption. It didn't take a second for her to realize that something was amiss. This was a 1v1, why are there suddenly more people?

Her suspicion had been met with affirmation. These hooded figures aren't part of the circus.

A fleeting pit in her stomach. Mystral forgot the distinction between excitement and fear; it had melded so well for her: risking herself. It was the ultimate gamble after all..

---

Ifrit and Knight had watched, seemingly quietly for some time. Of course Ifrit only seemed quiet, when in reality he was frantically using his suits built in HUD to manage his drones, and searching the area for anomalies, he was not at all comfortable with the situation. He watched the fight between Automaton and Sickle-cell, although if anything that actually reassured him that things were normal. He saw Gamble interrupt, and the capes go their separate ways.

After some time he and Knight finished fleshing out their plans, being very careful to keep their discussion over their personal communicators. He had an idea for how to handle Black Kaze, or as much as anybody ever could handle her.

Pipeline then announced the, alterations to the plans for the night, and however much Ifrit had managed to relax, was gone in an instant. He was back to full paranoia mode. Fortunately, after hearing Gamble introduce himself in the fight outside, Ifrit knew where to find him.

After alerting Knight that he knew where to go, they made their way carefully to Gamble.

‘You're Gamble?’ Knight asked, looking him up and down. He looked like he could have been a bystander attending the circus, or some guy at the Bar. He was short, especially in comparison to the other two fully armored capes. His stance was casual, but certainly confident. In the face of the mysterious Ifrit, still glowing and secreting smoke from his power-armor, and the fully armored Knight, obviously a protectorate cape, it certainly did seem like inhuman confidence.

Gamble nodded slightly with a crooked grin.

Knight suppressed a couple stray thoughts of disdain about Gamble not looking “proper” for a Protectorate hero and that she had put in a lot more effort.

‘I'm Knight. Pleased to meet you,’ she continued, holding forth a hand to shake. Of course, she was all in armor, so it wouldn't be apparent that she was smiling. Anyway. ‘So, have you read up on our powers or so?’

Gamble smiled wider, and nodded, taking the offered handshake.

‘Now, we had a strategy…’

Upon learning that they had a new teammate, who Ifrit was far from sure he trusted, he sent his small drone “pixie” to the large drone “Griffin” to grab a couple of things. It carried them through the a window, barely stirring anybodies notice as it was designed to be stealthy, and brought him the items in its claws. Upon arrival Ifrit grabbed the drone and the items it carried, securely mounting the drone to his back to avoid arousing suspicion.

”Here, are you willing to wear this?” Ifrit offered not only a communicator, but a gas mask in his right hand. It was simple, and minimalist, made of flexible materials that secured around ones mouth and jaw, with a single band which would extend around the back of the head. It didn’t cover the eyes at all, which wouldn’t be necessary since Ifrit didn’t use any chemicals that targeted the eyes. “This will allow you to communicate with us without anybody else being listening in, and it will open up a lot of options to me during the fight.” He also had, in his other hand but not visible to Gamble, a communicator which would work just fine but wouldn’t act as a gas mask. He would prefer not to use it, but it was better than nothing if Gamble refused the mask.

Still remaining uncharacteristically quiet, Gamble took the gear, quickly fastening it to his face. “Fits like a right lass.”

Ifrit smirked. He was only 18 after all.

Knight didn’t understand the sentence, but alright, it fit.

“I figure I should go ahead and lay down the basics of my abilities, eh?” Gamble said nonchalantly. “Not sure if my files came before me. Slow ass system, ahhaha.”

With a slight grunt, he continued. “Basically, I'm lucky. Things are improbable? I can do them. Hack the Pentagon? I won't confirm or deny that. Hit a guy on a speeding motorcycle? Easy peasy. The more the odds are against me, the more likely I can do it.”

‘… Huh.’ Rosaline was slightly stunned. She wasn't sure how that worked in practice, but from here that sounded exceptional. In fact, she might be a bit jealous. ‘… Um. Well, then. I suppose that isn't incompatible with the plan. We'll just… let you fumble in the smoke, then?’ she asked, reasoning that would make being effective unlikely, usually.

Ifrit had looked Gamble up in the PRT database earlier that day, as soon as he had heard his name after the confrontation outside. He nodded along, “Actually, I think Gamble will be an excellent addition to the strategy, we should compliment each other nicely.” Ifrit meant it too. Ifrit’s entire kit was based around controlling engagements, and creating opportunities for his teammates. Gamble on the other hand, was just the guy to take advantage of said opportunities, where Knight had the heavy hitting to help keep the initiative on their side.

Ifrit discreetly shared the plan the same way he had told Knight before, via their communicators, being sure to look natural so it wasn’t too obvious they were all communicating secrets.

“Sounds like a perfectly viable plan to me. Just tell me who you want me to focus on,” Gamble said with a slight drawl.

Ifrit nodded, he really appreciated this guy. “Communication will be critical, essentially I hope you can take advantage of whatever opportunities me and Knight can open up, but our biggest problem is the wildcard. That Talion guy, we have no info on him or his abilities. In the absence of anything else, do what you can to keep him in check. Otherwise, I guess we'll just have to figure it out on the fly.”

They talked a little longer, mostly small talk, as the fights continued. It didn’t seem to take long before it was time.

Knight listened along, speaking up when she could, otherwise watching the battles. She nodded at Vegas beating Arms Race, grunted in discomfort at Vector’s loss, shivered a bit at Switchboard’s display as well as Achlys and Pipeline’s domination. And, soon enough, it was their turn. As much to herself as to rouse her companions, she spoke.

‘Alright. Let's do this.’

---

They entered the cage, and Ifrit really hated the idea of being in a cage when something here was clearly wrong, and he didn’t know what. He walked with his hands behind his back, like an imperial officer might in the movies of his youth, striding confidently yet nonchalantly. Of course he actually walked this way so he would be better prepared to put their plan into motion, as precious instants could be invaluable against the likes of Black Kaze.

Across the cage, a distance just a little too brief for Ifrit’s liking, stood their opposition. Black Kaze, Zabinaya, and the still mysterious Talion. Was he a Lord of the Rings fan or something? Ifrit was nervous about not knowing what he could do. A nervousness which was then redoubled, as somebody took the mic from the announcer.

Ifrit realized, based on the nature of the takeover that the stranger was likely a master of some sort, which didn’t make any sense given that she should be inhibited by the power nullification field…. Aaaaaand his uneasiness redoubled again. Something was very wrong.

He was fairly sure that since he didn’t actually directly listen to sound from outside (it was a relayed through microphones and speakers) he would be protected from the master’s abilities, but in truth he had no idea.

“Now, be a good boy, and kill them all.”

In truth Ifrit’s uneasiness had peaked two or three doublings ago, but at this point there was no room for any of that. His head cleared as adrenaline finally took over and he focused on the task at hand. He still didn’t know what was happening, but there wasn’t any time to risk learning the hard way. Talion’s strange hesitation gave Ifrit just enough time to start moving before Talion exploded. In one seamless motion he brought both hands forward, in his left was a canister, in his right, his arm raised to use the dart launcher. The dart launcher fired in quick succession, not stopping on either of its targets. The first, aimed at the charging Talion, the second at Black Kaze.

He didn’t expect either of them to hit, actually, not because he was inaccurate but because both probably possessed the ability to dodge. That wasn’t the purpose however, it was more to slow down both targets, force a moments diversion and give his side the initiative. Still, if they did hit, they both contained a tranquilizer which would take about 40 seconds to take full effect. He might have used the pain seerum, but he had decided against it since although it would take effect on the targets far more quickly, it would also be likely to make them erratic and unpredictable, something he didn’t want in this situation. He could hope the dart would at least buy Gamble the time to deal with Talion.

As soon as the darts were off, which Ifrit had deliberately made visible to his targets, the canister which had been flung from his left hand exploded in mid air. It didn’t actually explode, but the dark smoke which billowed out had enough velocity to it that it seemed to. The dark smoke absorbed light and spread rapidly across the entire arena. It didn’t contain any chemical agents, but his opponents wouldn’t know that. It was neutrally buoyant in the air, but the diffusion still created an effect where it seemed to spill out of the cage onto the floor. It wouldn’t do anything for sound, but all light in the visible spectrum would be thoroughly obscured.

Ifrit smiled to himself, out of pity for the spectators. This apparently had been made out to be the fight of the night, which unfortunately, not many people would be able to see. He imagined it would look like one of the old cartoon fight animations, a cloud with various arms and legs sticking out, loud noises and curses within. The image earned him a chuckle.

Even so, as soon as his payload was off, he didn’t waste even a moment. Using his power suit to spring with inhuman agility back toward the bars of the cage, he swung himself up and quickly climbed until he was in a corner of the cage, holding himself there with superhuman strength. The smoke now obscured the entire arena, and his suits previously bright lights were now off. His suit now emanated dark smoke of the same chemical that obscured the arena, helping to cool his suits internals and further hide him.

Now, nobody could see, except him. Although the arena was dark, his HUD now displayed an infrared image of the arena, combining multiple sensors from wavelengths of light the smoke was designed to not block, to form an image of the arena. He turned, to watch his teammates and communicate to them any upcoming hazzards via their communicators. He simultaneously prepared the drone on his back, stirring it to life silently. It would be essential for the next step in the plan, but so far he thought they had a chance. They had hopefully severely limited Black Kaze’s effectiveness, since after all, being the most mobile person in the world meant nothing if you couldn’t see where you were going.

Gamble meanwhile sprung into action as the arena darkened. The odds were increasing against his ability to hit anything, to do anything of merit, and that meant he was thriving.

Tackle Talion. Punch him in his face. Keep him down. Odds? Near impossible. But still possible. Barely possible.

[Hr]
Immediately concerned: @sickle-cell
Locally concerned: Everybody, except Lasrever,

Knight entered the ring, feeling tension as she was accompanied by Ifrit and Gamble. To think she’d ever be at the point she entered a ring at a fighting-event. She felt tense. A lot of that was due to the name that she was confronting. Black Kaze. Legendary murderess. Extremely useful power. What’s worse… it was her duty to put the final stop to the woman. No pressure. She drew her sword.

‘Before we start,’ she said to her opponents, holding her sword forward before the call to fight was heard. ‘This is not a real sword. It is not sharp. It is a stylish baton. You do not need to fear for your lives.’ … Just in case. She didn’t want to be accused of attempting murder, so to say. Saying so, she inspected each enemy.

Black Kaze, of course. Knight shuddered a bit. Zabiniya, who was dangerous but not in the league of Black Kaze, as far as Knight had gotten the impression. Then Talion, who didn’t make much of an impression on her-

”You shouldn’t be here.”

Knight was taken aback. Those words were not what she expected to hear. She barely heard them as it was, it was but the slightest whisper, but she heard them. And… she couldn’t make anything from them. Her, specifically? ‘… I beg your pardon, but what do you-’

She broke her sentence, as she identified that their host had his microphone stolen, and that a new voice was speaking to them. A new voice which-

Oh. Oh, damn.

So, Talion was charging Gamble. Her first instinct was to throw up a wall, but… that would make things more likely for Gamble, hence worse for him, wouldn’t it? Knight instead looked to the other two who- were they still enemies? This newest development might have put them on the same side. … Apparently not, because Ifrit fired upon Black Kaze.

‘Tsk,’ Knight noised out as Ifrit’s smokescreen was deployed. With this, Knight jumped forward. She a thin wall of air was paused in time in front of her, and upon contact she molded it around her, to make a sphere which floated a bit into the air, containing her. In the sphere, she started creating small holes for her to see through, hopefully too small for Black Kaze’s sword to penetrate, it wasn’t a rapier, after all. Molding this would take a bit of time, but after she’d hopefully be able to “see” out when the time came, and she’d hear where the opponents were. She never completely closed the sphere behind her, allowing sound through. While she was molding, she shouted out.

‘Wait, time out, are we still doing this!? Something’s clearly going on with her and Talion! Talion’s not allowed to kill in here! Black Kaze!? Zabiniya!? … Pipeline!?’ … She had to try. She turned her head to where she thought Pipeline sat when she said the last part. Something abnormal was clearly going on, so. Still, Ifrit shot first, so she doubted the success, which is why she was molding her sphere at the same time, somewhat into mid air but obstructed by the smokescreen, which she was intending to send into someone to then mold and restrain them, hopefully. It was taking a considerable amount of mental strain to keep the sphere up and molding it, but, it should do fine. Maybe.

“I guess so,” Marwa agreed with a shrug. “It’s all the same to me.”

The others sat, almost transfixed by the display. “It’s more brutal than I imagined it’s be,” Aedan said with a look of disdain. “Dunno what I expected from Wonderland, though.”

“Well, the Protectorate match is up next. Let’s see our mentors kick some ass out there.” The Ward Leader reached over and turned up the volume a few notches with an eager smirk.

@Gardevoiran

---

Pipeline’s glare fell upon the woman who had so rudely interrupted his speaker. “And what do you think you are doing?”

Conflux’s grin was wide and sweet, dripping with a sensual femininity. “I apologise for the intrusion, but my fighter needed a drop of motivation to really get going. For the time being, I promise to refrain from interfering further.”

His eyes met the flat of her helmet where her eyes would be, beneath. “Very well,” he declared after a moment’s pause. “I shall allow you to return to spectating, but make no mistake - I shall not tolerate another stunt like that.”

“Duly noted,” she said with a nod.

---

Meanwhile, Black Kaze was in motion the second Ifrit’s arm moved in her direction. In the space of a second, she had blinked up to the top of the cage with the sound of clattering and scraped metal deafening the room around them. As the black smoke rolled out below, she lost sight of her targets and sneered. It was a perfect environment for both hunter and hunted, so she locked her legs through the top bars of the metal cage and waited, poised to strike the second an opportunity presented itself.

Talion, on the other hand, didn’t show the slightest interest in the dart. It pierced into his skin without even provoking a grunt of acknowledgement. His eyes had tracked it’s arc, however, and he knew he’d been hit. The contents of it may have been unknown, but as he monitored his internal mechanisms, only a slight slowdown was noted. It appeared not to contain any lethal drugs.

Which was a shame, he thought, as it would have made things so much easier.

Nevertheless, he soon found himself blind by the rolling fog. Zabaniya reacted out of instinct and immediately drew in the shadows to her aid, forming them into a typhoon of whipping blades around her. They branched out at random arcs in an attempt to blow away the smoke and gain some form of visibility. Talion noted her location from the wind blowing across his arm.

Ahead, he noticed a faint blue light - a wall of stopped time. Knight. She’d left a number of tiny cracks on its surface, however, and the man smiled. “Zabainya!” he cried out, as she used her shadow-tendrils to clear a line of sight to him. He pointed out one of the gaps in the light. “Skewer her.”

With a wicked grin, the shadow-bender’s whips quested out across the wall, revealing the locations of the tiny gaps - before they formed pinpoint spears and screeched through them. She felt like a magician pulling off a magic sword trick, which would make Knight her glamorous assistant.

It was too bad she wasn’t a very good magician.

Before Talion could fully appreciate the spectacle, however, a fist rather rudely hammered across his face. The man stumbled - mildly disorientated - until he could make sense of where the attack had come from in the smoky haze surrounding him. From Zabaniya's efforts, however, he could make out a figure a little distance away seemingly flailing his arms about wildly. Narrowing his eyes, he drew a short dagger with a curved blade from the belt behind his back, holding it in a military stance with one arm atop the other. Watching for a break in the figure's antics, he swished the blade towards their throat.

And under the guise of the faint, launched his free hand to grasp their face.

@Migyudon@Lasrever@Old Amsterdam@SkinnyTy@PlatinumSkink@Duoya

It was all very important, she was sure, but after a while, Mary was nothing but bored by the goings-on in this place of brutality. She continued to watch for what she could learn about various parties’ powers, but even that was barely holding her attention. The one fight she’d wanted to see, the one person whose powers she wanted to study for her own personal reasons, had forfeited without using his powers at all. The rest of these fighters, why did they matter? They were of no import to her. She had not fought them, and they were all too low on the totem pole for her to really care. The information she gained here would be unimportant. She would not needto defeat them, since it wouldn’t do anything.

Taking out Sickle, though, and a whole segment of this city’s vulnerable bomb would crumble. Maybe it would blow. Maybe it would all fall apart, leaving the city safe. Maybe if they killed him, they could quiz his spirit on that pyromancer who’d killed their mother: someone that important was more likely to know something, right? But she’d been robbed the chance to really see what he could do. They couldn’t go on the offensive yet.

But then something went wrong, and she leaned forward on her bleacher as the atmosphere changed. The next battle was 3v3, but apparently that hadn’t been the original intention? She frowned as people got up to place new bets, leaning side to side to see around them into the pit. Being so short was certainly not an advantage here. The girl in front of her turned about, a hooded teen with a book, eyes wide as saucers, and Mary nodded to her before trying again to get a good look beyond. And then a different voice came over the intercom, and she stood, glancing first at the row of backs between her and the speaker, and then into the cage at the person whom the speaker mentioned. She saw the change there, saw his will bend to that of the speaker, and a shiver went up her spine. A mind controller. She had to get out of there. She pulled an explosive-filled pen from her pocket, gripping it tightly as she looked for some way to get out of here, but it was total chaos. Half of those in attendance were trying to escape, half were eagerly stealing their seats to see what brutalities this Master-fueled fight would unveil. No one paid any mind to a weak little girl like herself. Or to the girl in front of her, whom Mary noticed, even through her sudden fear, opening her book and flipping through pages of monstrous drawings before hovering her hand over one.

It was a conspicuous movement, obviously intentional, but her hand was shaking. Mary stared at it, remembering the girl’s face. She’d been scared before there was even a threat. What was she? A summoner? Would something come from that book? A shapeshifter? Would she transform into that drawing? And if she did, would she be able to control herself or a summon in that mental state?

Mary leaned over her and grabbed the hovering hand, pulling it away and kicking the book shut with her foot as she did so. “Hey, what do you think you’re trying?” she yelled over the din, trying to make sure the other could hear her. “There’s a null-magic field! We can’t fight! We gotta go!” She was being a bit insincere, since she’d realized that something must be wrong with the field if that master was able to mind control someone while in it, but she tried to make it sound like the truth. Maybe this other girl could fight, but she didn’t have the power to. If she could get away without, that was preferable, and if she did have to, maybe claiming this girl as an ally would help.

@Lasrever

"H-huh?" The noise that escaped Mag wasn't the sound of someone that dealt well with any confrontation, much less being yelled at by random strangers. Beyond a token effort to get her hand free she didn't do much to fight back, flinching as the girl kicked her book and peering anxiously at it in the fear that one of the pages might have been torn. Not sure whether to try and look at that or the new arrival, she eventually settled for turning around. After all, she'd probably just kick it again if Mag tried checking, right?

"I wasn't going to-" Okay, yes she was, the denial was just a default reaction. The world's most unconvincing defence mechanism, not helped by the fact that it took about two seconds of looking wide-eyed at her accuser before her resolve broke. She was right, it probably wouldn't have worked anyway. "Um. Sorry?" Was that the right thing to say? She couldn't really feel sure.

Why couldn't she have been more subtle about trying to use her power? But... no-one else had seen, and this was now way more conspicuous than a girl just looking through a notebook. Besides, it wasn't like Mag really wanted to be here anyway, and she definitely didn't want to watch the Protectorate people die. Well, she didn't want to watch anyone die, but especially not the good people - even if them being here made her less sure about the 'good' part.

Anyway. Strange girl. Had her wrist. "I mean, um, I can go." Nodding hesitantly, Mag wasn't really up for trying to disagree on something as seemingly minor as this. Besides, she didn't have much reason to stick around anyway. There wasn't much here in the way of food, and what little cash she'd gotten a hold of would be better to take somewhere else. Clutching her book tightly, she looked towards the door, clearly waiting for the other girl to take the lead. Easier to listen to other people when things were this stressful.

---

Gamble chuckled as he felt his first connection, backing away sightly after. To look a fool made people think he was a fool. Supposedly lost in the fog.

He was never lost.

He felt the air stir in retaliation to his attack. A slight glint of a blade, narrowing missing his face, before a hand came towards him. At least, he thought it was a hand.

He flipped sideways, using his knee to bat the hand away, before landing back on his feet.

"Sorry, pal. You're out of luck," he said quietly. Into the comm, he added in a voice that wouldn't carry past the communications, "Looks like I've got Talion busy."

Moving forward, he closed the gap quickly, launching a series of quick strikes at Talion's knees and lower abdomen, before backing off again.

(Assuming Talion retaliates during this, Gamble will do a mental check off his body for knife wounds)

"Listen, I don't know what that lady got on ya, but ya really should reconsider. I'd hate to really hurt ya," Gamble said as he circled around where Talion was. "Lady Luck and I? We got a thing going on."

With that last syllable Gamble shot forward, sliding along the floor to deliver a strong kick at Talion's right knee.

So, the match was not cancelled, and Zabaniya plus Black Kaze appeared to both be in on this. Either that, or they just didn’t care. Meaning Knight had just expanded her first move of the match by making herself a target instead of actually doing any good.

Talion be praised, Knight wouldn’t have known to defend against Zabaniya had he not called it out. Realizing with a start that her holes were perfect for the shadows to strike through even if they defended against the insta-death of Black Kaze, it meant she had no choice but to go all out from the start.

Irritated, bewildered and not quite appreciating her side of Zabaniya’s magician metaphor, Knight manifested her armor, front-first to be there in time for Zabaniya’s spears. The sphere around her periodically faltered, back first, to not allow Zabaniya to notice what she was doing. When she felt the spears of darkness strike the front of her immovable armor, Knight completely manifested her armor, letting the useless sphere fall. Now she was invulnerable… but she was also blind, deaf, all those things, plus the pressure on her mind.

Zabaniya appeared to be Knight’s complete counter. She couldn’t fight her. Zabaniya could abuse any gaps Knight formed in order to see or hear, and the shadows could very effectively keep Knight away, gripping Knight’s armor and restraining her. If captured by Zabaniya’s darkness, Knight doubted she could get free. However… there was an individual here whom Knight was the counter to, in turn.

Knight took off, immediately upon letting the sphere fall. She remembered where she had heard Black Kaze had locked her legs on the metal cage. Hopefully, Knight didn’t really know due to lack of senses, Kaze was still there and had her sight blocked by smoke. Hopefully, Knight’s flight would be uninterrupted by Zabaniya and relatively soundless in the light of all that was going on and probable shouting from outside the ring. Hopefully, Black Kaze would not realize what was happening until it was too late.

The intention was to fly straight towards Black Kaze’s last known position, slamming shoulder-first into that position through the smoke. The baton was too likely to kill to be used in such a charge. Tackling was more effective.

What she was doing right now wasn’t in perfect accordance with the plan as a whole, but Knight had panicked somewhat and gone for what she could think to do. Black Kaze was still the worst threat here, though Zabaniya wasn’t far after and who knew what Talion was capable of. More than that, the woman outside weighted on Knight’s mind, but she really didn’t have the time to consider what to do about that right now.

“Kill them?” Kairi asked, voice shaking slightly. “Isn’t that a bit much?.”

The Ward Leader’s eyes narrowed as she watched the screen. “Something’s wrong.”

“What should we do?”

“What can we do?” Aedan interjected.

Marwa thought for a moment. “Probably nothing - for now. Just be ready to move if we’re needed.”

@Gardevoiran

---

As Gamble’s knee hit his hand, Talion pushed out his power through it. Subtle, nothing that either would notice if he didn’t know he’d done it. That was always how it started. With a smirk hidden by his mask, he listened to the man’s bravado while dodging or turning away his strikes.

“I’d be less worried about what she has on me,” he hissed, “than what I have on you.” The last word coincided with Gamble’s last attack - which Talion made no attempt to block. The familiar agony of blunt-force impact swelled through his knee, and at that very same moment, the same pain shot through Gamble’s.

Talion laughed. “You might have ‘Lady Luck’ on side, but you aren’t the only one capable of flirting.”

---

Kaze watched the faint-blue-clad assailant bolt towards her, and she smiled with a wicked grin. “Awww, poor baby, didn’t anyone tell you how this ends?” With a kick, she shot off the top bar of the arena and blinked in her direction.

Before slamming into the blue wall.

A flurry of scratches coated the armour, but left no visible mark whatsoever. Kaze, now flush against the obstacle and moving back towards her perch was slammed into the cage with a roaring clatter, knocking the wind out of her. Afterwards, she fell and thumped onto the arena floor, mumbling in rage. Her eyes set firmly on the girl, now, eyes blaring with contempt.

“Alright, girly, you’re on.”

---

Since her target fled and angered Kaze, Zabaniya began clearing the smoke with all her effort. It made little effect, because more seemed to appear as she cut through. The source soon became noticeable in one of the corners above the arena. With a flick of her wrist, a barrage of shadow-spears howled towards the thickest part of the smoke in an attempt to stop the flow and reveal what was causing the haze in the first place.

@Migyudon@Lasrever@Old Amsterdam@SkinnyTy@PlatinumSkink@Duoya

Anomaly

---

"... I have faith in the opponent, what was his name, Gamble?" Xoxi said after a few seconds, trying to raise her hood over her head before realizing that she couldn't actually do that because her hoodie was gone. Where the hell did the Protectorate put that? Probably in her room, actually. That would've made sense.

"If we do need to mobilize, I need to get my hoodie. I can't be Anomaly without it... or myself, now that I think about it.." The labcoat was working well for the time, but that's because Xoxi didn't have anything else nor was she motivated enough to go and find her hoodie. She really just wanted to finish expelling the trash emotions from her head. Turns out, they still were around in the very back, but it didn't hurt enough to interfere with her normal life. Normal was a heck of a word to describe it, though.