Toukotan Park, The Asterisk
Spring, SY 3233/UC 233/AY 117
On an ordinary day, the park was quite a beautiful, peaceful place.
Indeed, Princess Lukarya Amarant, for all her dignity and pride, could easily afford to stoop to give such a simple place as this that much praise. Naturally, it paled in comparison to the size and awe-inspiring magnificence of the Golden Garden which sprawled across an entire deck of the Worldship Rysslind. A single one of the exotic specimens populating that glorious landscape was likely worth more than this entire plaza. In fact, even the small "green room" aboard her yacht was put together with a greater variety and a keener eye for art than this haphazard arrangement of a few trees, flowers, and shrubs.
Nevertheless, the simulated breeze was calming. The plaza wasn't frequently very busy, and as such, the air was very quiet and still, silent save for the rustling of the leaves in the trees. The grass was green and well-tended, and all in all, it was the perfect place to sit in quiet contemplation, and perhaps compose a few lines of a poem, or hum the tune of a beloved song. In short, it was the closest thing to a place of true culture and beauty the Princess could find on board the painfully artless and practical Asterisk station, and as such, she had begun to make a custom of frequenting the park whenever she had little else to do, as an aid both to her relaxation and to her art.
...Of course, all of this was only the case on a normal day, and today was anything but normal. With an obnoxiously loud yell of exertion that completely shattered her pleasant reverie, one airborne figure slammed headlong into another across the street. A torrent of fire was scattered by a spiral of invisible air, sending a double helix of sparks and ashes raining over the park, singeing the green boughs of the trees, tragically decimating the vibrant green grass, and, worst of all, getting
soot in her
meticulously styled hair."Just what do these barbarians think they're doing...?!" Princess Lukarya hissed, gawking at the spectacle with her eyes wide and her jaw slack. Her astonishment was only momentary, however, as her teeth very swiftly gritted themselves to stifle an unthinkably vulgar growl. Her outward show of disbelief was already well on its way to becoming a most un-ladylike rage before she even thought of composing herself - by which time, one of the two airborne figures had already been knocked straight out of the sky and crashed headlong into a nearby park bench, shattering it in a shower of split planks and splinters.
The raised heels of her boots clacked against the pavement as the red-eyed girl strode purposefully towards the fallen combatant, taking a deep breath and calming herself as best she could. Her hand twitched slightly, and the red ribbon wrapped around her left forearm flashed brightly as the winged black crest emblazoned upon it began to glow. Of course, if these
imbeciles had any propriety whatsoever, they would surely know this emblem as the personal sigil of the Amarant family's youngest Princess, their fellow student and natural superior. Surely, they would recognize this obvious fact, and, if she simply exerted her authority, she could put an end to this nonsense. As a proper lady herself, she was the highest authority present on the scene. As such, it was her responsibility to correct her fellow students' misbehavior. After all, it was her duty as princess to protect and uplift the lower classes, was it not? This little farce had gone on for far too long as it was. It was a public safety hazard and a smear upon her own reputation as a student of the Asterisk!
But of course, she couldn't just throw herself into the middle of such an unseemly brawl. That would make her no better than an uncultured pig herself. No, she could afford to wait. After all, one combatant was already down, and would need time to rise again before the fight could continue. She could simply interpose herself and demand both parties to stand down before the battle could resume. She wouldn't even need to get her hands dirty. Yes, yes, this would do nicely! So reasoning, she strode forward, standing directly in front of the fallen boy who'd crashed into the bench, staring down at him with brilliant red eyes as her silver hair fluttered in the last echoes of the wind that had carried him hence. That would be sufficient for an entrance, and given his current position on the ground beneath her, the Princess could forgive the boy for not bowing of his own volition. Thus satisfied, she turned her attention to his airborne adversary, who, touching down a short distance away, began to approach slowly, hands still clenched into fists. It seemed now was her time to act, and thus, the princess spoke up.
"I demand that you cease this nonsense at-"Princess Lukarya didn’t have the opportunity to finish her sentence before she was unceremoniously cut off by the very person she’d been trying to stop.
”Make way. This is between me and the delinquent.”The Princess’ eyebrow twitched.
“...Do pardon me, I must have misheard you.” She gave a rather disturbingly forced laugh, staring him down with barely controlled outrage that only, after a few seconds of struggling to regain her composure, gave way to an absolutely unconvincing smile.
“Surely you didn’t say what I think you just said. Just to be clear, you - some two-bit fighter who I have neither seen nor heard of before - did not just order me to ‘make way.’ That would be absurd!”The boy in question couldn’t be bothered to muster much more than a disappointed frown, although he did have the dignity to halt his approach and place a now broken pair of glasses into one of the pockets of his uniform before addressing her again, with about as much disdain as one could possibly muster.
”I’ll have you know I’m Sylas Flaurience.”He allowed his statement to linger in dead air for a few seconds for emphasis.
”Can’t say I’ve heard anything about some pretentious little girl getting in other people’s business.”The “little girl” in question couldn’t help but find that her hands had, at some point, clenched themselves into fists. Her expression was frozen as it had been a moment before in that same painfully forced smile, as if her face was having trouble keeping up with the sheer incredulity and rage she now felt. What… What had he just called her? What had this complete imbecile hotshot with his unspeakable delusions of grandeur just had the sheer, inconceivable audacity to call her?!
“Well, well, fancy that!” Her voice practically oozed with false politeness as she all but spat her words through gritted teeth.
“Now I know your name, and I still haven’t the slightest idea what makes you worth so much of my time as I deign to give to the gentleman who shines my boots! Are you unaware of who I am? Are you simply an idiot? Or perhaps, despite your earlier words to the contrary, you are attempting to pick a fight with me.” She gave another forced laugh, craning her head slightly and raising a hand to cover her mouth as she performed the most ear-piercingly shrill and scornfully derisive cackle she was capable of.
“Ohohohohoho~! I’m right, aren’t I? Very well, then - you leave me little choice. Consider this an honor! Since you so stubbornly refuse to respect your betters, I suppose it falls to me to educate you!” As she spoke, the ribbon around her upraised arm unfurled itself completely, stretching outward and draping itself over both of her shoulders, seeming to float there of its own accord like the raiment of an oriental goddess. By now, she had completely forgotten her original purpose. In its place, a smug sneer slowly crept across her face as, at last, her fury overturned all attempts at composure. The Princess spread her arms, the long strand of ribbon behind her slowly spiraling and wrapping around them as she entered a relaxed, open posture not unlike the stance of a dancer taking her opening bow. She raised her head, slowly bringing up her arms as the ribbons began to twist and spiral into the air.
“I, Third Princess Lukarya Ahn-Rysslind fon Zahria Amarant, will put an end to your impudence!” She declared, then brought down both arms violently downward. The ends of the ribbon cracked like a whip, descending violently from either side of Sylas with unexpected force and weight, more like the strikes of a flail than the lashings of a flimsy bit of cloth.
Sylas’ expression had, up until that moment, been one of smug assurance, and even, for a moment, mild amusement. He hadn’t bothered to move from his position even as his new opponent had begun deploying her M.A.I.D., eyeing her ribbons with scorn. As a general rule, M.A.I.D.s were in some sense a physical weapon, and how much damage could a bit of cloth possibly do? However, upon hearing her name, his expression had contorted slightly, eyes widening in momentary surprise for just a split second, realizing only too late that maybe - just maybe - he'd bitten off more than he could chew. In an instant, he released a blast of wind from his palms, launching upward into the air and slipping between the descending ribbons, flipping head over heels and bringing down a mighty cyclonic punch towards the girl, hoping he could knock her down and then quickly distance himself, disengage, and come up with some kind of plan before it was too late.
But the dancing Princess had never stopped moving, even as her attack missed. She spun, the ribbons retracting themselves in a red blur as she whirled about like a dervish, crossing her arms as the ends of both ribbons jumped up and wove themselves together into a cross-shaped barricade, then hardened, intercepting the incoming fist. A shockwave spread outward around the point of impact as dust and rubble shot into the air in all directions, but Lukarya merely grinned, standing secure at the eye of the storm as her coat flapped wildly behind her. She uncrossed her arms, the ribbons attached to each continuing to stretch and twist around her assailant’s outstretched arm. Lowering herself, she twisted the ribbon from both ends, and Sylas let out a cry as his body spun like a top before being rather indecorously slammed downward into the dirt. In that very instant, the Princess had already dismissed her M.A.I.D., the long red ribbon spiraling around her and shrinking back into her armband once again as she tossed her hair with a flippant air, and let out another long, mocking laugh. Sylas looked down and realized that he was kneeling, and his face flushed with anger and shame.
“So you can show respect, after all!” Princess Lukarya exclaimed through her now all-too-genuine laughter.
“That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?” As she spoke, she pivoted, arms spread wide in a theatrical pose as if inviting applause. When none was forthcoming from the hushed, confused crowd, she let out an irritated sigh and dropped her hands back to her sides. As her temper cooled, she began to wonder what exactly she had been doing, and realized that she had completely forgotten her original intention of breaking up the fight. Well… even so, the fight was technically over now, so she had succeeded, right? She decided not to think about the part where she had stooped to the same level as the “uncultured pigs” she had been trying to stop, and thus instead moved right onward to the more comfortable step of cementing her victory.
“Well, then!” She exclaimed all-too-cheerfully, clapping together her gloved hands as if dusting them off.
“I do believe that concludes this little squabble, yes?” She gave a sly smirk to her defeated adversary, as if daring him to stand back up and try again, but then turned her attention to the dazed boy who was at last hauling himself out of the rubble.
“Unless, of course, there are any other objections,” She added, rather pointedly patting her armband and staring him down.
But at that moment, she was slightly distracted, because she heard some rather loud sirens getting very close all of a sudden.
“...Eh?”
