[IC] Royal Rumble: Rumble over the Heavens

[Letter Bee]

Ken

Something alarmed Ken about Rev just then, something in his words or his tone or how he looked at them now. He knew it, he wasn't the best at communicating, the best at socializing, but what Rev was manifesting right now was startling, a nigh-imperceptible but still existent change that brought a chill to the boy's heart.

Ken did not want to confront Rev in his own home, not after what had just passed between the three of them - Well now two if Chinami was leaving. But he could feel it, the beginnings of a chill borne out of disappointment which would eventually wither and pervert whatever had been formed by the battle against Nightman. If this chill was allowed to continue, to take root inside Reverio Galand's heart, it would cause not just the destruction of any chance of friendship, but it would turn them into enemies.

He didn't want that. But how would he stop it? Rev was a person who preferred his own opinions above all and obliviously distrusted others who thought differently, not getting the memo that other points of view were sometimes valid. Chinami was someone who was attached to her ordinary and secure life, someone whose strength was focused on her safety, both physical and psychological. As for himself... He shared the lack of social education and immense naivete which Rev was still showing now, but he had some of Chinami's insight and knowledge on how the world really worked.

As Rev and Chinami obviously waited to go to the door of the apartment, as they probably noticed him just standing there as though he was frozen onto the ground, Ken finally found his voice, and it was desperate, unfettered, its cadence high, almost shouting.

"Please!" the boy implored, putting his hands up in a placatory gesture, "I know what we all just said to each other, and how we've all made assumptions about the situation which turned out to be wrong, but we cannot just let this meeting end like this. I know I'm not the best socially; I know I am still a novice at how normal social interactions work. But I know deep in my heart that letting this meeting end on this note will just result in negativity for all of us and those around us."

Looking at both of their faces, letting them see the shock written on his own, Ken made his pitch, "Let's go to a flower garden like I brought up before. Let's enjoy the beauty which is still there in life, and delay talking about revolutions and tragic backstories and grand agendas for the rest of the day. We can eat and drink sweets and coffee, see the sights of Rhea's green spaces, take pictures of ourselves or have them taken for us. I'll even pay for everything. Everything. So please, let's just spend a while just being kids; we have that right, after all that we've gone through..."

He then looked at Chinami, his eyes carrying a silent plea.

@Dezuel@Lewascan2

[Crowvette]

Andras and Michael's Closet Meeting

When Suzakura got knocked out of the ring in record time, Michael couldn’t help but clear his throat trying to cover up a snicker. He talked a big game, but he was still no match for his opponent. Still, that just meant his opponent was nothing to scoff at, having been quick to take out his opponents in quick succession. Whoever had to fight him next would be in trouble.

Speaking of who went next, Michael went through the list of fighters in his head, and he realized he was up against Alex next. It was a perplexing conundrum for him. On one hand, he wanted to see what Alex was really capable of first hand. However, he had done a study of her power in his time together with her, and knew she only had a limited number of those cards she used to manifest her power. There probably wouldn’t be many left now, if any at all. And on the other hand, Michael was loath to raise a hand against Alexandria. She was…

Michael shook his head. He resolved himself to put aside his heart for this match. And besides, it was just a match. Everyone here came simply for a good fight. Alex surely came here for the same reason, and Michael was not going to be the one to take it away from her.

Alex put the strange person that accosted her out of her head for the moment, with nothing left to say to him. She had bigger things to deal with now; Namely, she had completely zoned out and a fight had occurred without her really paying any attention. In all honesty, Alex was already at her limit - she had dumped her hand far too quickly when Vera toyed with her, and now all she had were the spell effects that she already had active. She clenched her fist, the latent magical power briefly dancing around her arm. She could throw punches with superhuman strength, and she could still leap twice her normal height. That would be enough to settle the score with whoever she was up against next - and if not, she’d at least create a story about the “demon girl” who could punch with the force of a truck. Alex was actually beginning to get her excitement back. She quickly ran down the list of remaining matches with her eye.

‘All right. Let’s see who I get to fight. After what happened with Vera, I think I need to deck someone I’m not on a first name basis with-’ Alex’s train of thought froze in its tracks as she read the name she was paired up with.

Why did it have to be the only other person she knew at this tournament?! Alex wondered if Wolf would ambush her on the way back to her home at this rate. Or perhaps her online chatting friends would reveal themselves in order to fist fight her? Alex felt torn. In all honesty, she didn’t want to hurt Michael and her only method of fighting at the moment was something she couldn’t really control well at all. But she had a reputation to build… Plus, winning against Vera and then quitting the next round would not be very kind.

Alex took a deep breath. She wouldn’t let this go wrong either. She would normally simply let things go with the flow, but today had already gone too wrong. She had to be proactive. Assertive. Like Vera. She singled out Michael in the bar and grabbed his wrist, pulling him towards the nearest supply closet. “We need to talk.” She said to him, keeping a firm grasp on Michael, with determination in her eye. “Alone.”

When Michael saw Alex walk toward him, he smiled and raised his hand in greeting, but went wide-eyed when she dragged him away to somewhere more private. “A-Alex?” Michael asked in surprise. “Ok, um, sure. What’s going on?” The situation was quickly escalating beyond his expectations, and was quite out of character for both Alexandria and Andras.

Alex finally let go once they were stowed away successfully. She had managed to grab him, but her resolve was at her limit. “The truth is…” Her face quickly began to flush, contradicting her previously stoic demeanor. She couldn’t seem to make eye contact. “M-Me and you…” She continued to mutter something, unable to quite put together her thoughts.

‘W-Wait… Did I just drag him to a closet alone? What if someone saw us?! I didn’t think about this at all!’ Alex’s mind finally caught up to the situation she created. Alex froze in place, unable to continue her train of thought. Her attempts to speak simply devolved into stuttering.

What? ‘Me and you’? Michael thought to himself as he turned away, his face bright red all the way to his ears. Was it really what he was thinking? He took a sideways glance at Alex again, seeing her stammering over her own words, which only served to further cement his understanding on the matter. He raised his fist to his mouth and cleared his throat, then proceeded to say, “This wasn’t, uh, how I pictured this would happen, but, uh…” Clearing his throat again, he continued, “Ma-may we, um, g-get along, then.”

Alex’s eye widened with surprise. “You’re okay with it?!” She backed up, bumping her back to the closet door. “I-I don’t think I can really control it myself… I don’t want to hurt you!” She clenched her fists, suppressing a sniffle. “I-I mean, I almost hurt Vera already… You saw what I did, you know! I-If we fight each other in this next match, then…” A tear rolled down her face. “I don’t want to hurt anyone else I care about… I should just concede the match!”

Michael was confused once again by where the conversation was headed. Then he realized his initial assumption of the conversation was wrong. She had brought him over for a different sort of confession, after all. He felt relieved, but he also thought he felt a sharp pain in his heart. He forced himself to push his feelings aside and continue listening to Alex. This was still a serious conversation, after all, and he needed to hear it.

“Alex, you have nothing to worry about in this case,” Michael reassured her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I came to the Midnight Tournament expecting to get hurt. Sure, I wasn’t expecting you to come here, and I’d totally beat up anything who did hurt you, but I’ll… be...” Thinking back on the pairings, Michael realized if he would indeed somehow manage to lose, she would have to go up against the guy who had quickly taken out Suzakura. That was a fate Michael would very much like to avoid. Quickly making up his mind, Michael said, “A-Actually, yeah, maybe you should concede. I won’t hold it against you, and-and I’m glad you care so much about me.”

Alex felt reassured, at least partially, by Michael’s words. “I-I kinda joined this all on a whim, but things have really gotten in over my head...” She averted her eye for a moment, fidgeting somewhat. “Maybe sometime you can show me a little bit about how to actually fight… I-If you have time!” This most recent tournament had shown her that maybe she needed a little bit more than just her cards to win.

“I just hope Vera doesn’t come down on me for forfeiting after beating her…” Alex gave an uneasy sigh.

“Of course,” Michael said, smiling. “Eh, I wouldn’t worry too much about Vera. I’m… sure she cares about you… in her own way.” Stepping out of the broom closet, Michael continued on, “Now then, let’s get out of here. You should go issue your surrender to the announcer. I’ll get ready for the final match.”

“G-Good luck…” Alex let Michael go on ahead, waiting a little bit so they weren’t seen exiting at the same time. She meekly stalked over to the announcer, submitting her withdrawal from the tournament, before turning away and scanning the bar. She had to just make sure where Vera was. Alex wasn’t going to let her get away without at least exchanging contact information. She’d keep an eye on her and talk it through once the fights settled down.

Hopefully.

[Lewascan2]

Chinami Nadakai

@Dezuel@Letter Bee

Chinami could only assume Reverio was entirely missing the point, but at this stage, she just wasn't in any mood to continue this fruitless conversation. She didn't even need the "Scumsuza Filter" anymore to parse through the blonde's words and actions with her usual mental alacrity. By now, it seemed she had well and truly inoculated herself to the hormonal nonsense that had been gripping her... and she couldn't help feeling a mentally draining disappointment at what she'd found. Here she was, thinking she'd struck gold... but like everything else in her life, it was too good to be true. She wasn't sure if she'd entirely burned that bridge, but at the least, it was on fire... and she wasn't sure if she wanted to put it out.

She understood the implicit dismissal and nodded tersely. She had overstayed her welcome. "It's been washed, but I could do nothing for the holes. I'm no seamstress," she said mildly in parting, striding towards the door in Reverio's wake. Honestly, she was glad this was over. Things had really started to feel awkward, now that she thought about it. The way this had turned into a home visit when it was just supposed to be a quick coat return. The way Ken had been getting unfortunately -almost rudely- sidelined in their conversation. The way Chinami felt like she was imposing as a guest, despite being invited in. It almost felt shameful to argue with genuine heat with the host, but she ultimately didn't regret anything she'd said. Certainly not enough to retract a single word.

Ken's high-pitched cry snapped her gaze back around, and... Chinami found her abrupt alarm quickly bleeding out into annoyance and an open sneer on her face. "Negativity? Hah," she scoffed derisively. "Well, I'm feeling pretty 'negative' right now. You think I'm going to keep tolerating the catalysts? Fat cha-"

Chinami froze, her pallor turning ashen. "Yo-!" She almost seemed say something, before her teeth clicked together and stopped.

The ***** in the Details

"Remain." Chinami froze at the baritone voice she knew only she could hear.

"You again!" She bristled. "Get out of my head!"

"Such is presently unfeasible," rumbled the Voice, as unhurried and unbothered as ever.

"'Unfeasible' my ass!" Chinami bristled. "Don't even try to pretend like a mental invasion is just some bullshit that 'can't be helped' or some shit!"

"Thine unsolicited hostility shalt aid thee not," the Voice stated calmly, unthreatened.

"The hell it won't!" Chinami seethed. "What the fuck do you mean, 'remain'?!"

The Voice rumbled in thought. "Wouldst thou not consider it a favor owed?"

Chinami snorted mentally. "I don't owe you shit. Sure, you may perhaps have saved my life, but I can't confirm that. There's no way for me to tell that anything you told me back then was actually the truth. Just because I'm not stupid enough to push my luck, just because I may have a hunch that you were right on the money, that doesn't mean I ever agreed to do anything for you in return," she snapped. "If you wanted favors, you should have made a deal." Somehow, she almost felt a certain weight to that final word, and oddness that was almost tangible, but Chinami shook off the sensation.

"Hmmm," the Voice mused. "Verily. This One hast mayhap presumed above This One's station. Very well. Tis a deal thou wishes? Tis a deal thou shalt recieve. What say thee?"

Chinami's brows furrowed at the strange emphasis on that word. There was a buzzing feeling there that she couldn't help but almost understand but not quite. "And just what exactly does this 'deal' entail? It sounds... No, it- It feels- Holy shit, why does it feel? It feels like it's something more than a verbal agreement. Is this some magical bullshit?" she asked warily.

"Thou presumes correctly," the Voice replied without hesitation.

Well, let it not be said that Chinami couldn't take a hint. "You're a demon, aren't you?" she grit out warily.

"This One is not."

"Oh, really now?" Chinami snipped out dryly. "And I suppose I'm supposed to just accept that as truth too?"

The voice was silent.

"No, fuck you. I'm not touching any sort of 'deal' bullshit with a thousand-meter pole. Not here. Not now. Not off the cuff. I'm not walking into that shitstorm blind," she rattled off. "I-!" Darkness swallowed her vision.

---

Chinami gasped into uncomfortable consciousness, sputtering, as her fingers scrambled for purchase on the surface beneath her. Blinking furiously at ash grey, her Spirit phased through her body, ejecting the finely ground debris from her form. Stumbling up, Chinami adjusted her collar, glancing around warily in disbelief, as sweltering heat thrummed through the air. Turning in a brief circle, the girl gaped at the wasteland of charred earth, scarred by great rivers of magma so white-hot they almost seemed to be plasma, more ominously akin to... a very familiar burning light.

Swallowing in apprehension, Chinami's crimson eyes followed the arcing landscape, as in the far distance it began to curve up... and up... and... up? Her eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of the prismatic rivers tracing up what almost seemed to be the inside of a titanic sphere... the walls of which were occupied by a multitude of landscapes, including a forest... and a sea... and a city, all of them utterly defying gravity in every conceivable way.

"What the hell?" Her arms slumped to her sides, unable to process what she was seeing. "How is this-? Where-?!"

"Dost thou appreciate thine efforts?" a familiar baritone inquired lightly.

Chinami whirled around, bristling, as her Spirit hovered between her and the Voice...

No... Not voice.

A Man.

A Shadow of Glory

He stood upon the ashen plains unbothered, arms crossed primly behind his back, a smart ebony suit adorning a broad-shouldered, looming frame. His skin almost seemed transparent in places. Or, no... Rather, an angry orange light seemed to pulse from within like a heartbeat, as radioactively green eyes bored into Chinami's crimson set. This... was almost certainly the newest invader of her mind, Chinami realized, glancing around at her surroundings with a new glint in her eye.

"So, what's this then?" she asked with deceptive calm, trying to keep the thundering of her heart to something that didn't roar in her eyes. "An illusion? More mindscape bullshit?"

"Hmmm," the man smirked. "Nothing so trite. Before thou lays thine very soul."

Chinami felt she really should have been more surprised by that declaration, even as she drawled, "Really now?"

"Thine skepticism is plain. But regardless of thine stubbornness," the man declared, briefly gesturing grandly with one arm. "Reality shalt deny thee time and again." His eyes narrowed at her. "Behold thine hubris made manifest, the cracks etched into thine self, the scars of the power beyond the boundaries."

"The... 'boundaries'?" There was that word again. Chinami's jaw tightened in speculation, but the darkly suited man only looked vaguely amused.

"In time, perhaps thou shalt discover the answer bereft of aid," he said evenly, but Chinami could almost feel the smugness emanating from him. "For now, however, This One shall assuage thine fears of a 'faceless unopposable entity' triapsing through thine mind." He spread his arms. "Therefore... here This One is."

Hardly a smidge less worried, Chinami's brows pinched, as she frowned. "Why... do you keep calling yourself that? A face doesn't really do me any good without a name to put to it."

"Wouldst thou prefer such knowledge be amended to our Deal?" he asked archly.

"Deal? What the hell are you talking about? There is no Deal," Chinami snapped, her Spirit's fists clenching. "I've already made up my mind, and there's nothing you can say that would make me rush into anything so absurd." Glancing around, she swallowed tensely. "Deal or no, this shit is too suspicious. I can't see what you could possibly offer me in a manner that I can trust."

"Verily?" the man's voice was filled was a sort of aloof faux understanding, before his expression sharpened like a fox. "Not even a cure for thine damaged soul?"

Chinami froze, before her expression turned livid. "You... piece of shit," she hissed lowly. "That's worthless. I don't even know that my soul is actually damaged to begin with! Are you deaf? For all I know, everything you've ever said to me was lies." She refused to be toyed with in such a manner!

The man shook his head. "So mistrustful. So overly cautious..." The pupils of his poisonous green eyes narrowed to reptilian slits. There was a strange mix of annoyance and... approval(?) in them. "Tis soothing to know such caution is present within the foremost of thee, but take heed... hesitation begets lost opportunity... as thou should well know. Verily, such was the reason for your loss against the 'Nightman' thou dreads so keenly..."

Chinami's teeth ground together. He... wasn't wrong. Her restraint had cost her as much as her recklessness. She had searched for a balance and failed utterly. At times, it seemed as if she could only do one or the other, so of course, restraint was what she favored. Recklessness was only advantageous if the opponent couldn't adapt to it. "And... what does that have to do with anything?"

"Obliviousness suits thee not," the man replied simply, glancing at the great sphere around them. "Didst thou suppose a Deal would not be appropriately compensatory to thee? Dost thou not comprehend the potential before thee?" He mused. "Mayhap if thou were more foolish and This One less principled, mayhap then This One should advantage This One of thine ignorance." His grin was filled with teeth. "Be grateful. This One's directives wouldst not allow This One to harm thee even did This One wish it."

"Directives...?" Chinami blinked, as an absurd realization edged at the corner of her consciousness. "Are you..." A stone dropped into her gut. "Magically bound or something?" Enslaved, she wanted to say but didn't. Not that it likely mattered in the face of a mind-reader.

"Not... as such," the man all but hemmed and hawed.

"If you want me to trust you, you'll need to start getting a lot less fucking vague," Chinami snapped. "Besides, you're surely running out of time. I can't imagine the boys are all too thrilled with me freezing in place or disappearing out of nowhere." Somehow, she already knew the argument she was making was less than valid, but the man's next words confirmed it.

"If the mind is the self, is the soul not the purest form of the mind?" the man remarked. "In such a case, would not This One's expertise in the manipulation of souls not make the task of mimicking Nightman's... 'accelerated thoughts' application trivial?" Chinami's blood ran cold with dread. "This One canst assure thou. As far as anyone else is concerned, not even a moment has passed outside." His eyes squinted proudly. "We have all the time in the world to... negotiate."

"Sure doesn't feel like much of a negotiation," Chinami hissed.

"Well, when needs must," the man replied unapologetically, ignoring her scowl. "Thine proliferent paranoia aside. For all the little comfort This One imagines it will grant thee, This One hast thine best interests in mind... not just thee but This One and others besides." He frowned, arms folding behind his back. "This One must say, This One would have delayed this meeting till much longer, but the blonde fool has forced This One's 'hand', so to speak."

"Reverio?" Chinami tensed up. "What about him? You one of those 'anti-royals'?"

"Hah!" the man chuckled, dispelling a touch of her worry. "Hardly. In a way, one might even call This One the opposite." Then the humor drained from his face, right back to business. "But This One is getting 'carried away', as they say. This One shalt prevaricate not a moment more." He began to stride forward at a slow, measured pace, seemingly not the slightest bit concerned with getting nearer to Chinami's Spirit. "The foolish Gifted thou knows as 'Reverio', the former King Marlan... This One couldst not idly abide a genuine desire to seek out the Great Evil." Chinami's mouth opened to interrupt this absurdity, but he powered through her objection. "His resolution may likely be no fantasy. Despite thine desire to believe only in the most optimistic of truths, reality is far crueler." His radioactive eyes glowed with conviction, as he entered her Spirit's range, and yet, Chinami couldn't find it in herself to strike. "The Great Evil is very much alive. Shattered? Certainly. Weakened? Without question... But dead...?" His stride stopped, as he seemed to loom over her, even from 10 feet away. The man smiled grimly. "This world could only pray in vain, for there are no gods that may oppose such unrelenting malice... The Great Evil remains, and from even a single fragment could the entirety of its strength be restored once more to swallow Creation."

"And what-" Chinami grit out, her fists clenched so tight they whitened, "-is the point of telling me this?" In her heart, she had a dread suspicion.

"Should he seek the Great Evil, Reverio shall find it," the man stated with ominous surety. "There are places... secret... dark, even to the likes of This One, concealed by the wise and knowledgeable... but not impossible to find." His gaze seemed distant for a moment. "The foolish Fallen King may be weak of mind, but his power and conviction are sufficient to uncover those lost places... and lay waste to this world."

"So, you're saying I should kill him," Chinami said distantly, a coldness rippling through her. She didn't know what bullshit this mystery man was going on about, but if the Great Evil had any chance of coming back, the most expedient thing to do would be to kill the fool that sought it before they ever had a chance to get that far.

"No. His value alive is far greater," said the man sharply, his inner glow seeming to flare for a moment. "Rather... This One would have thee aid in his foolish quest, to stand by his side. To find the remnants of Great Evil, to hunt down the hiding places of that foul rat..." His smile was filled with razor, shark teeth. "And destroy it."

"Hell no," Chinami stated bluntly, sneering dismissively. "Not just 'hell no', but fuck that shit." Her nostrils flared, as she crossed her arms. "This has nothing to do with me. I lose absolutely nothing by staying out of it. Why in the world would I tolerate these annoyances? What concern is it of mine if the Great Evil has a little hoo-rah?" she mused flippantly. "This city is filled with other wannabe 'heroes' and knuckleheaded idiots that can sacrifice themselves for their 'greater good'. Whereas me?" She scoffed. "I have an actual life to live, thank you very much." Her crimson eyes narrowed. "At the end of the day, there's nothing in it for me. Besides, I haven't known him that long, but even Reverio isn't enough of an idiot to seriously pursue the Great Evil. If even a smidge of his seeming gallantry is true, then that should be antithetical to him."

"Be not foolish. This One has read his soul truly," the man said seriously. "The Great Evil will cost us all. This world has grown soft in its absence, filled with discord and conflict, descended to petty concerns and squabbles. Mortals and immortals alike are not ready for a Great Evil that has been forced to bide its time... to become strategic and carefully scheme... to think like an underdog. The last time the Great Evil was forced to 'fight smarter, not harder', it managed to invade the heavens and nearly slaughtered the gods. Thou canst avoid the fallout of its rise... same as anyone else." Chinami scowled at that, but the man straightened his spine. "As for compensation, must This One repeat mine self again? Thine soul is damaged. This One can repair it. Thou hast This One's price."

Chinami grit her teeth, glaring at his unwavering expression. "You... You think even that would be enough to lure me away from my plans, from my quiet, peaceful life? All I have to do is be patient, and when my soul heals naturally, I'll have the power to protect what's mine, Great Evil or no. I don't even have to fight it. I just have to run away."

"And yet... thou may simply not have time. Thou twould require thine lost power to combat the Great Evil's efforts so easily, and..." the man rumbled. "After having a period to inspect the damage, This One can conclude that the damage to thine soul will not so easily heal. After all, even now, it is under outside pressure. Overwhelming power continues to leak through the cracks, preventing them from scabbing outside of insignificant increments. At this rate..." His eyes narrowed. "'Twould be a year or more henceforth that thou would be whole again. And that... is not time thou hast."

Chinami's body felt cold at the words. She didn't want to hear them, and yet... she couldn't deny. All this time, despite her words, she couldn't call the things that had been said lies. It was almost like the words and shadow of intent were being beamed directly into her, an animalistic sense that they were no falsities filling her. She wanted to rage at the feeling of creeping inevitability, but all she felt now was a looming exhaustion.

"Thine Pride and dedication to thine beliefs are admirable," the man said less harshly, his gaze almost fond. "Understand, This One is not enthused at these circumstances. Ideally, This One would not have spoken to thee even the once till long after today, but This One's hand has been forced... The Great Evil will not allow thee to retain the 'quiet life' thou cherishes so much. To face it is inevitable."

"Unless I kill Reverio," Chinami whispered with stubborn conviction, grasping for straws. "There's no need to overcomplicate this. One fist through his heart- Or better yet, through his head, just in case that healing magic of his is even stronger than it looks, and the problem is solved. No idiot seeking out the Great Evil. No chaos. Lifestyle preserved." Yes... yes, that sounded even better the more she thought about it. Never mind Rev's intentions. Only actions mattered, and she wasn't above preempting a crime when necessary. An ounce of prevention was worth a pound of cure.

"The Great Evil will rise regardless," the man denied. "Mortal greed is inconveniently predictable at times such as these. If not the Foolish King, then another within thine lifetime... and sooner than thou might ever suspect. Mortals truly are greedy creatures. The only difference will be that it shan't be on thine own terms."

"And you know this how?" Chinami snapped. "You're implying this isn't the first time you've heard of this shit, and yet, you only bother to speak up now? If you were so concerned, why the hell didn't you mention anything before?! And for that matter, why me?! How did you find me? Why did you approach me? Why did you interfere in my life?!"

The man weathered the rant with little more than a resigned sigh, as it wound down. "Where art we right now?" he inquired simply, arching a brow.

Chinami's eyes narrowed, as she briefly glanced around again. "My soul... or so you say."

"Why hast This One not interfered, thou inquires? Simple." The man was silent for a long moment. "This One was... sleeping, or the closest one such as This One might get. This One was drained, nearly comatose, sustained by dregs of power and a mission alone. Even were This One to wish to act, This One was in no position to... until thine desperation opened the gateway to the feast This One needed to regain mine strength in full." Chinami swallowed apprehensively, as the man smiled hungrily. "Didst thou truly believe a mere mortal soul could endure against the pressure of the cosmos? Thou art of His line, so This One is hardly surprised by the... confidence. But the reality is that thine soul didst not crumble only for the presence of mine self... consuming the tide of unbearable power, blunting the impact. The damage sustained to thine self was purely the overflow, that which This One couldst not absorb quickly enough, and even that much nearly spelt thine end..."

Chinami could only stare on grim comprehension. She didn't know what that 'him' line was about, but... "You... are inside my soul?" The blood had drained from her face. "How... long? Who- No, what are you?" she hissed tensely. This couldn't be happening to her. What the fuck was this?! This was like something out of a painfully generic fantasy story, and she didn't want anything to do with it! Fairy tales and myths could stay on the damn pages of fiction and history and out of her life!

"Now thou art asking the right questions." The man grinned wolfishly. "What and who This One is...? Such information must be carefully guarded. The same way the mere knowledge of Reverio's true identity is dangerous, so too is to perceive This One's true name. Only in this case, the stakes are far more severe than arousing the ire of mere petty revolutionaries."

"And you can't just... go away?" Chinami asked petulantly with a tinge of hope. Surely, there were unlucky sods out that far more easily and with foolish enthusiasm would undertake such a "grand" quest.

"Now, why would This One do that?" he grinned. "After all, thine soul is such a joyously tantalizing source of power. To touch upon the endless boundaries, to sup upon the sublime substance of infinity..." There was a growl of gluttonous hunger and a groan of deep satiation in his throat. "Tis a chance that has only twice presented itself to This One... both times many millennia past... Mistake mine intentions not, though This One may not be liberated to reveal mine goals to thee at this time, know that This One is paying a great price in this Deal... to heal thine soul and lose access to such a wellspring of power." He scowled. "Were This One's directives not so stringent, This One might even have preserved the damage to feed upon it in perpetuity... but the Great Evil takes priority."

Chinami was silent for a while, before grimacing. She was... really over a barrel here, huh... The implicit threat was clear. Though he had claimed before that he could do her no harm, he also had priorities, and at minimum, perpetuating the damage to her soul did not, in fact, directly constitute as harm. Assuming he was constrained by some sort of mental compulsions, he was clearly rules-lawyering them beautifully. He didn't have to do anything but stand in the way of healing. He didn't even have to be malicious about it.

"I'm... going to need more details before I agree." The words felt empty leaving her lips. When it came down to it, she didn't have much of a choice, and it burned her with indignity. However, even now, she wasn't about to agree to some sort of magical pact without heavily curating the wording, because she already knew that this being was the kind to utilize loopholes. And unfortunately, it did need to be a magical pact to begin with. She simply couldn't trust this being's word, no matter her strange instincts. "And what if I were to still say no, even knowing the stakes?"

"...Then This One must find other means to exterminate the Great Evil." Likely disagreeable ones for her, seemingly went unsaid. "If thine mind were to truly be made up, then This One would not forbid thine return to the waking world, nor impede thee for the spurning." Which really said nothing about the other ways he'd impede her as a consequence of seeking to accomplish his goals. He was supposedly inside her very fucking soul. There were all too many ways this could go wrong.

Gritting her teeth, Chinami nodded nonetheless and frowned. There didn't seem to be a whole lot of choice in the matter. No matter what she did, it couldn't end well for her... At least if she went along with the dark man's schemes, she'd be getting something in return and have a better chance when the inevitable occurred. "Fine then," she all but spat bitterly. "Let's talk terms."

---

The girl's gaze seemed to have glazed over for a moment, before she straightened up with a sound almost like a growl in the back of her throat. Color was rushing back into her demeanor if only to support the flush of restrained frustration. Ruby eyes flicking to the side in unison with the brief appearance of her Spirit's head, she reached up with one finger to stroke its left cheek, one of the places notably unmarred by the angry crimson lines scarring the spiritual guardian.

'That bastard really did hold up his end of the bargain,' she mentally noted begrudgingly. So, he wasn't all talk... and she wasn't sure if to find that comforting or horrifying. Both maybe? It wasn't a quick-fix or even anything close to a complete one, but she could see tangible improvement... and could now trust in the promise of more to come.

"This One is still here."

'Dammit! I know! Fuck!' Chinami squeezed her eyes closed and allowed her Spirit's head to fade away, trying very hard to not consciously consider her new lack of privacy... and the fact that she hadn't truly had any for years. Her eyes flicked to Reverio with an undecipherable light to them. 'So... stay near him, and you'll accelerate my soul's recovery proportionally.'

"A vast simplification, devoid of nuance, but not incorrect."

Rolling her eyes, Chinami straightened up, seemingly regaining her composure. 'Fine. A Deal's a Deal. You better not renege on your end, or I'll find some way to... Well, we'll cross that bridge later.'

"Threats are unnecessary. A Pact is absolute, even for one such as I."

'We'll certainly see about that, won't we.' At his silence, Chinami shook her head and furrowed her brows. What had she been addressing before? Oh, right. The utterly banal idea of going to a flower garden of all places and even out to eat after such fostering such poisonous tension between them. Were the circumstances nearly any other, the only thing she'd be doing right now is telling these idiots to get bent, going home and forgetting she'd ever met them. Certainly, Ken's pathetically naive and desperate sentiments were only making the offer even less attractive. Frankly, she couldn't think of anything she currently wanted to do less right now. She despised the idea of spending another second here, specifically with these two.

Unfortunately, she had her end of a Deal to uphold. Rather more fortunately, staying near the boys didn't mean she had to be their friend, no matter that such would be the most expedient way to further her ends. Simply put, she didn't have the patience to play games and truly pretend. This was already going to be annoying without having to fake giving a shit.

Crossing her arms, Chinami's expression displayed a barely restrained lack of patience. "Fine. You know what? Maybe I'm in a forgiving mood today." She really wasn't. "So, I'll humor your little game." Her lips curled in amused disdain. "I'd just about made up my mind, but in all my mercy, I can afford a few second chances now and again. So, make this entertaining for me, and maybe I'll humor you again." Her crimson eyes drifted to Reverio with a foxlike sharpness to them. "Not today, certainly, I don't think. Tensions are rather too high for any of us to enjoy a moment of it, but another time...? What say you, prince?" The "peasant" half of that address barely went unsaid. The soft poison dripping from her light and amused challenge was hard to miss. The special emphasis she placed on that title too was itself a mockery, telling only to those in the know that she was poking not at the title but at the fact that it didn't truly belong to him... but rather the brother that everyone thought he was.

He was too free with his secrets, and now, she would punish him for that. Oh, she wouldn't spread them around without reason certainly. She'd no intention of attracting revolutionaries, and she was hardly enough of a spiteful bitch to rip away some else's quiet life unless they were threatening her own. She'd feel like a hypocrite otherwise. That said, that didn't mean she wouldn't take advantage of that knowledge in private. She didn't like him, but was she not gracious to teach him this lesson? Truly, did her mercy know no bounds that she would grant this pathetic two-faced idealist a lesson in reality?

She wondered with morbid amusement, despite it being objectively actively detrimental to her ends, how far she could go before they would finally dislike her as much as she disliked them. She wondered how far she could go in bad faith before they finally decided to push her away, just like she preferred. She could think of plenty of ways to handle her end of the Deal, even if she were to be outright enemies with these two. Honestly, that almost sounded better, even if it might be a tad more inconvenient. And better still, it didn't risk getting her attached.

Chinami's lips curled into a smile that was all teeth. It wasn't a nice one.

[RoflsMazoy]

The Final Fight

The crowd was waiting with bated breath for the final fight to begin. A total farce of a night, but a farce with a structure. Whoever was winning tonight would be remembered one way or another. They might not be walking away in one piece, but they would be a champion.

The fight started predictably enough. Michael, the more agile fighter seemed to have formed an initial gameplan around that idea. Perhaps, getting in close with quick strikes before darting out of range before his opponent could counter attack. He maybe abandoned whatever idea that happened to be when the counter attack came anyway, and the shockwave of it hitting the ground managed to crack the arena itself.

Say whatever you wanted to about Michael Angie, but at least in this moment he didn't miss his chance to adapt to the opponent. He immediately shifted his tactics, making the most out of his powers to slow his opponent down. Debuffing sigils in really annoying places, painting constructs to tank hits and hold him back.

Despite everything that'd happened so far tonight, it looked like they were well on their way to a standard tournament finish. The underdog was now very much overwhelmed. A power mismatch leading to a clear, and easy victory. Just like you would see on any other night. Only, with the heated emotions and riled up crowd that made every night interesting beyond compare.

They were cheering for his defeat. They wanted him to lose. Rage welled up in him. Anger welled up in him. Was this... was this his limit?! NO!

It was hard to determine what happened next. One minute, the fighter was buried under Michael's painting constructs, and then the next minute, the constructs were gone. In their wake was something completely unrecognizable.

A mass of muscle and flesh. The fighter beneath could barely be seen. And he was growing.

Something was wrong. Its head darted around, seemingly suddenly unaware of where it truly was right now. The music was still blaring. The audience looked on in shocked wonder. Some of them, perhaps fear. Then he sighted him. The person he'd fought in the beginning of all this. Some flicker of recognition seemed to pass through him.

But something had broken. Its head twitched, twisted, and raised to the sky, howling in pain, before throwing a thunderous blow right into the arena, cracking it into several pieces. He hefted a large chunk of the floor below and aimed.

Warriors. If you have any perception of what is about to occur, now is the time to act.
@Spin the Wheel @Crowvette @Scarifar @KillamriX88 @Letter Bee @Dezuel

[Spin The Wheel]

Duke watched the fight engagedly, sitting with his head in his hands as skill met strength. He could see Michael's glorious skills as paint practically flowed out of his suspiciously shiny paintbrush. The dark horse of the night slowly lost his ground, lost his strength, and lost his control. The arena cracked and the ground rumbled. The tournament was over. Duke got up and sighed. It was truly a shame, he had been looking forward to seeing who would win the fight.

"'Scuse me, 'scuse me. Coming through, calm down everyone."
The lanky teenager weaved through the crowd against the flow, towards the disaster zone. The area around the arena was quickly being vacated, which would make things convenient for him. Duke drew his knife. It was an ornate switchblade patterned with skulls and flame imagery, polished to a mirror's shine. It was a rather ordinary blade, in spite of its appearance. But Duke needed sharpness, and it was certainly sharp enough. Holding out his left palm facing upwards, Duke slowly lowered the knife tip down into his hand. He felt the familiar prick of the blade piercing his skin and dug deeper. He felt a small stabbing pain as blood pooled in his palm. He could feel a small spike of adrenaline shoot through his nervous system. Time seemed to slow down as he assessed the situation.

The other participants of tonight's tournament would hopefully help out, though he wondered how effective they would be. They hadn't fought too much tonight, but their stamina had inevitably been dented. Still, he was sure they would provide some reliable support. Michael the painter, the round's other contestant, was in a bad spot right now. More than likely, the breaking of the arena would have knocked him off balance, and the dark horse was currently aiming to turn him into paste. This wouldn't do, this wouldn't do at all. Duke couldn't let one of the stage's stars get knocked out so early.

The teenager grinned, removing his blade from his palm. The blood in his hand ignited into pale green flames, dyeing the boy's grin with an eery glow. He wound his arm back like a baseball pitcher, yelling "Fire in the hole!" as he threw the palm sized wad of fire at the fleshy student. The flames traced an arc in the air and splashed the back of the hulking contestant's head, setting his hair alight. It acted as both flame and liquid, one portion sticking on the student's head while the rest dribbled onto his back.
"Hey big guy, I know I said I was rooting for you, but you just ended our night of entertainment. I can't let you get away with that." Duke said, taunting the enraged figure.
He walked forward slowly with his hands in his pockets, a deliberate display of fake calmness. The flames burned on, sucking away at the contestant's energy, though in this state he probably had plenty to spare.

"Would anyone else care to join me? If you do, please keep an eye out for my flames. I'm not responsible for what happens if you touch them." Duke declared loudly.

@Crowvette@Scarifar@KillamriX88@Letter Bee@Dezuel

[Letter Bee]

Erisse Augusta Narrativia

Erisse was beside Duke in an instant, Narrative Round of Familiarity activated right away. In her hands, she held an Anti-Materiel Rifle, which the woman apparently knew how to shoot.

"This kid must have gotten some illegal steroids or Demonic help, or both," the woman said, "I know how to deal with this."

And she fired at the rogue student's arms and legs, each shot enough to pulverize a normal limb into powder. Some would think this callous, as she was an adult and the kid was, well, a kid. But callous or not, Erisse was sensing that something truly vile was afoot and that she had to cripple this rogue student/fighter before he harmed any other person. And if that kid can regenerate his wounds anyway, well, that meant that she had no responsibility to hold back.

"You know," she spoke, unable to hear her own words because she put on earphones beforehand, "Maybe that Suzakura kid was right and I should be doing this in a swimsuit..."

She then belatedly handed Duke a set of earmuffs, "Earmuffs?"

@Dezuel@Scarifar@AtomicNut@KillamriX88@Spin The Wheel@Crowvette

[Spin The Wheel]

Duke noticed someone appearing next to him, but as he turned to look, a noise like an explosion burst out without warning. The teenager jumped to the side instinctively, falling to the floor. He looked to the source of the boom and saw a woman holding a large rifle. Duke stared at the woman, dumbfounded, before hastily turning his gaze away as she let loose a barrage of bullets, each shot lighting up the room in flashes of white brilliance.

When the barrage finished, Duke removed his hands from his ears. The impromptu defense had protected him little, and his ears rang loudly as if in protest of the woman's mad shooting. He could see her offer him some earmuffs; her mouth moved but he couldn't hear a single word she had said.
"Are you fucking-" Joking? Stupid? Insane?
His mind had cooked up 3 insults to hurl at the woman, but with the aftermath of the gunshots still causing havoc his ears, it was impossible for him to know which one had come out of his mouth. Duke hastily got to his feet and snatched the earmuffs from her hand, putting them on in a hurry and backing away to a safe distance. If she was going to shoot again (and he was sure she would), he wanted some degree of safety.

@Letter Bee

[Crowvette]

Alexandria

@KillamriX88

Alex was slowly inching towards Vera's vicinity when things went out of control. The center fight suddenly stopped, there was a commotion, and before Alex knew it her body was rocked by an ear-splitting blast, followed by another, and more. Each shot felt like a punch in her chest from the pressure of the gunshot. Alex had never heard a gunshot in person, let alone a high-caliber one fired indoors. It instantly sent her into a panic.

Alex yelped in surprise, instinctively ducking down and covering her ears. She didn't know what was happening, but her mind focused on one thing: Getting Vera, and then leaving. Gritting her teeth, she ignored the ringing in her ears and got back to her feet, quickly scoping out where Vera was. There was a commotion, people moving, tables in the way. But luckily, Alex still had her lingering magical effects to lean on. She had an enhanced jump height, and the ability to fly. It was a simple matter for her to bound over the obstacles in her way, and beeline to Vera in midair.

Alex was not quite versed in flight, however, and in her adrenaline-fueled burst of movement she did not quite allow herself the space to slow down, sending her careening towards Vera. She only had a moment to shout a warning to the unsuspecting girl before they collided.

"Veraaaaaa!! Get down!"

[Scarifar]

Location: Midnight Tournament

Michael was forced to use his alternate fighting style against his opponent, but it was evidently still not enough. Even with the Mithril Paintbrush augmenting his creations, that fighter seemed to power up and then rip off Michael's restraints. When the arena shattered from the fighter's blow, Michael lost his footing and fell to the ground. Looking back up, he could see that his opponent had raised a large chink of the arena floor above his head. Something wasn't right with him, though, as he looked like he was going berserk. Some bystanders even attempted to intervene. One in particular, Erisse, had summoned a gun and was currently blasting away at the fighter, each shot sounding off with a thunderous noise. Michael pressed his hands over his ears, wincing from the pain of his battered eardrums.

Michael knew that this was not the place to be any longer, and began to make a getaway, scooting his way over to the arena edge and backing away from the scene. Fortunately at this point, it seemed Erisse was done firing, so Michael yelled out at her, "A little warning next time would be nice!" Then he realized his ears were still ringing, and it was difficult to even hear his own voice. Michael drew cross Symbols over his ears with white ink using the Mithril Paintbrush he received from Erisse, hoping it would be enough to restore his damaged eardrums. Fortunately they were, and they also healed other minor injuries on him, but not his fatigue. All the excitement from this tournament was finally taking its toll on him, leaving him quite spent on energy. He went over to a nearby stool and sat down, hoping he could get a chance to rest.

[RoflsMazoy]

Chaos. Rather inevitable, but a little bit better than having the rock be the one to trigger it. The announcer was desperately ushering evacuees towards designated fire exits. Tables were being knocked over in the rush, some students were flying and jumping to get away. Still, the announcer didn't miss the chance to comment on the 2nd biggest safety hazard in this room at the moment.

"You did NOT just fire that thing in this fucking establishment! Do you know how lucky you were that there were no kids back there?!"

The monster that stood in the middle of it all was watching the stump of what used to be its hand with an incomprehensible expression. It was on the ground as well on account of several high caliber rounds having pierced through its legs, but as it got up it seemed evident that though it had indeed been damaged, more muscle mass was swelling up to close the wounds. Slowly, it blinked, and then looked towards the source of the shooting.

Now this was a more recognizable expression; Anger. You could see the thing's muscles tense up all across its body. Veins bulging even further. Its legs were salvageable and the stump of its hand had even managed to staunch its own bleeding. But it seemed that hand would not be growing back.

It put its other hand on its thigh as it stomped the ground. As it crouched, bone pierced the skin where it was fractured, but muscle still held it all together. It built up power, and then it leapt.

"Oh no you don't!" The announcer shouted. He slammed his fist down on his announcer's table, and several thick walls of glass descended from the ceiling. Quick as a flash, ready for contingencies such as this it seemed. It didn't stop the giant completely, but the glass completely throttled its trajectory. It fell well short of its intended target/s, not only that but it fell relatively prone on the ground there.

But it would be rising soon.

@Spin the Wheel @Crowvette @Scarifar @KillamriX88 @Letter Bee @Dezuel

[Letter Bee]

Erisse Augusta Narrativia

Erisse took out a megaphone and said to the announcer, "I'm asking permission now - Can I conjure up dynamite or even stronger high explosives or even burning napalm to try and subdue this person, or if you prefer a nonlethal solution, I can conjure up gas masks for myself and you all and then fill the room with knockout gas?! We should make a decision quickly!"

@Dezuel@Scarifar@KillamriX88@Spin The Wheel@Crowvette

[RoflsMazoy]

"Well that's up to you, do you want a manslaughter charge on your record?!?!" The announcer shouted back. "The kid's gone nuts but he's still a fucking kid! We have LAWS you know?!?!"

@Letter Bee

[Letter Bee]

"Well that's up to you, do you want a manslaughter charge on your record?!?!" The announcer shouted back. "The kid's gone nuts but he's still a fucking kid! We have LAWS you know?!?!"

@Letter Bee

@RoflsMazoy

"Sorry! Sorry!" Erisse said. "Very well, I'll just stay quiet and not pull out military-grade weapons!"

[Spin The Wheel]

The giant crashed to the floor, not quite down for the count, but he was down. Duke could see the adult woman and the club's announcer arguing but he still wasn't able to hear them, whether it was because of the earmuffs he had on or if it was because his hearing had been damaged that badly, it didn't really matter. Now was the time he needed to go on the offensive.

He clutched at his ears with one hand, as if to silence the infernal ringing, and with the other, he pointed out to the contestant. The flames reacted to his will, flickering with renewed vigour. The blaze had grown bigger as it sucked away at the hulking student's stamina. Duke splayed out his fingers and the flame followed, spreading away from the swollen head and attacking the gaping holes that pockmarked their body. The flames grew larger and more vibrant as they sucked away at the abundant blood, feasting on the ample lifeforce within. This was one of the best possible scenarios for him, and yet, Duke kept his guard up.

He ripped the headband off of his head and dropped it to the floor while directing a small ball of flames to come back to him. Duke grimaced in concentration as he directed a wisp of flames to enter his ear. A warm sensation enveloped his inner ear as he repaired the damage done to his eardrums. Slowly, the ringing eased and he was met with the sound of the club in chaos. It was better than nothing, he supposed.

As he directed another wisp to enter his other ear, Duke considered the situation. The other contestants had not been as... helpful as he had hoped, though he could hardly fault them for thinking for themselves. He was doing the same, in a manner of speaking. Michael Angie, the other contestant for this round, would potentially rejoin the fight soon, but he couldn't count on that. The crazy gun lady had ceased her barrage and was currently in a shouting match with the announcer; they could both provide some support, though he wasn't sure how useful it would be. They both had their own priorities, after all. Duke sighed to himself.
"Looks like I'm not making a profit today." He muttered under his breath.

With a thought, half of the flames burning on the mutated student seeped away and gathered above Duke's palm, floating in place and coating the area in a sickly green glow. Unlike the pale green fire he had produced originally, the fireball was a glowing neon ball of vibrant energy. Duke started muttering slowly as a portion of the flames peeled away from the ball, forming a pentagram beneath his feet.
"I summon thee!" He yelled.

The flames suddenly surged upwards and vanished, leaving blackened lines in the carpet below. The smell of sulfur began filling the room as the shadows behind him lengthened, reaching towards the ceiling and growing into the twisted shape of a wicked monster, stretching and distorting into a fearsome devil-horned figure.
"Cut the crap, Mort. I need you to spin the wheel." Duke said.
The shadow disappeared and a red imp-like creature appeared with a puff of smoke. It was a tiny thing, dressed smartly in a tweed suit and a top hat. A cape billowed out behind it as it radiated a mischievous energy.
"Oh come now young master, it's been so long since you've summoned me. What's wrong with a little theatrical flair for the audience?" The imp said, grinning.
Duke glared at the creature.
"Yes, yes, getting to it now."

Mort turned the cape in front of itself, hiding it from sight. The cape soon fell and confetti exploded out, revealing a colourful wheel, divided into several sections with familiar symbols on it. Cheery carnival music played from god-knew-where as the imp held up a microphone.
"Well ladies and gents, it's time for your FREE DAILY SPIN!" Mort said, the sound echoing across the room. "There are many wonderful prizes up for grabs on today's wheel, but there are also many pitfalls on the board. Will our contestant get lucky today? Let's SPIN THE WHEEL!"
The wheel began spinning, rotating so fast that the individual slices of the wheel could no longer be identified. Only the colours could be seen.
"Mort, I'm spending the money. I need a good result." Duke said.
The flames vanished from his hand and the capricious grin on the imp's mouth grew even wider.
"Well well well, looks like we have a big spender here tonight."
The red tiles vanished from the spinning wheel, leaving a board of greens, whites, and blues. The wheel finally began to slow down, decreasing in speed slowly. As the symbols once again became visible it slowed down even more, until it was passing chunks of the board tick by tick, before finally landing on a result.

"15% increased power! WOW! What an amazing outcome!" Mort said as confetti expoded into the air.
As the winning fanfare played, Duke frowned. It was the worst positive result he could get. He didn't expect much better but he couldn't help but be disappointed.
"You can spin again for a small, small payment of $3.99 or 15 Hell gems-"
"That's enough, Mort." The teenager said, interrupting him.
The still grinning imp began to disappear. The wheel, spotlights, and confetti disappeared. The burnt mark on the carpet slowly crumbled away as if it was never there. The flames on the mutated contestant increased in intensity. A small orb of fire floated in his hand. It appeared that he had prepared slightly more than he'd needed. Duke threw it into his mouth. He could feel a warm sensation slide from his throat to his stomach, embuing him with strength and recovering some of his stamina. He stretched his arms and drew his switchblade once more.
"Ok, let's try this again."
He started to run towards the downed student.

@RoflsMazoy@Scarifar@Letter Bee@Crowvette@Dezuel

[Dezuel]

Reverio Galand

It was with a soft sigh that Reverio turned to face Ken, who had implored both him and Chinami to hear him out. The Izumo heir's words about them all having assumed things wrongly, about negativity and the flower garden. All these things did reach the blonde's ears.

Negativity. That very word could be used to summerize his feelings for humankind as a whole, with some exceptions. It were those exceptions that were at fault for holding him back, from letting him to travel down the path he both dreaded to tread, but also deep within felt more drawn towards. It was as if the forces of the world, the gods themselves was slowly pulling him towards doing something which could change the world forever. He knew he didn't have the power alone, no mortal had enough power to change the world on their own. It was a group effort, or the effort by a being far above them. Even above the gods.

The blonde knew what was pulling at him, he knew what manner of being his thoughts were drawn to. But he shook them away again. There was a time for deep thinking, but that was not now, not here. Reverio straightened himself up slightly, holding out his hand towards one of the potted plants in his apartment.

"No matter how beautiful and vast a garden is, there will be people seeking to blow it all away. I've seen it all before, I've felt it all before. We may eat and drink, rest and take in the view. But it won't change anything. The world out there remain as rotten. While your offer is indeed a kind one, and while I agree that such scenery is pleasing to behold and I would want nothing more than drift away in such a place. I've been trapped far too long in my life, by things that only came to serve as an illusion to how things truly were. Much like a masquerade ball, once the masks are dropped the music also does. My brother who gave me this life, I cannot allow myself such joy. I cannot even end myself for the guilt I feel. I must live, but if I must live, I must live doing something of worth... or it will all have been for nothing. I cannot go back to being a kid, Ken. But I think that applies to everyone. None can go back in time, except in ones memories..."

Reverio gently slammed his fist into a nearby table, not enough to startle anyone or break something, but enough to make a point. Then he turned to Chinami as she had spoken up again.

"That sounds good to me. We shall dine another time then, miss Chinami. Thank you again for bringing back my coat." It was with a show of appreciation that the blonde offered a deep bow to both Chinami and Ken.

"Perhaps we can talk again someday, Ken. I wouldn't necessarily say either one of us is fully wrong or right, we are simply what we are. Shaped by our surroundings and experiences. If people would fully understand each other, perhaps this world would have been a different place alltogether. But would that have been a world people would desire. Is there truly such a perfect world that people can live in? And would that even be called living? I have no answer for that..." Rev offered a final soft smile.

@Letter Bee@Lewascan2

[Dezuel]

Suzakura Plagerzes

'What a friggin day, frecking unbelievable. First that foureyes having a decent damn punch, and then the guy has the gall to hog my Mina. Then I have to fight in some stupid arena with it's stupid rules against who was it again? Who gives a damn. Then friggin Claus von Witless shows up in his military getup and acts all protection-mama with that pinkhaired hottie. What a fregging day.' Suzakura rolled his eyes as he went out of the Midnight tournament building and out into the fresh air.

On his way up the stone stairs he spotted someone had left their soda can there at the top of the stairs. The bully was in a more foul mood than usual, thus this was a godsend. He heel-kicked it back down the stairs and he could hear it falling down and it's contents spilling. It was like having drank a cool drink himself, or a glass of cool milk.

"Ah shit... I am bored. Hm?" Just when he had gotten to the top of the stairs he heard a commotion from inside. What in the holy hells had he just missed? He rushed back down the stairs and back inside. There was suddenly a larger amount of chaos. Wonderful.

'I can't see shit with all these noname-background characters running all over the damn place.' He thought in an annoyed manner, that he was gonna have to use his powers to solve it. What a bother. Suzakura allowed his gift to flow through him and began to increase his height momentarily so he could see over the panicked crowd.

'Allright time to clear a pathway. All you royal bastards ain't got nothing on this.' The bully thought to himself as he came up with his plan, and allowed his vocal cords to become altered abit and his ability to scream.

"OH MY GOODNESS! THE LOCAL YOUTH OFFICERS ARE COMING! EVERYONE IS GETTING ARRESTED! HURRY TO THE EXIT! GO GO GO!" He screamed in an alarmed manner and watched plenty of people run past him in a stampede towards one of the exits.

'Freggin pansies. Suza. You are a friggin genius. Allright, now who pissed off that big muscle-without-brains guy? Hey isn't that the guy who cheated himself to a win against me? Nah. Must be another of those bland average guys. Well, he does look like hes pretty pissed and at this rate Mina could get into that big mess. While that backstabbing-Mikey-chugging cow did me bad, it is my backstabbing chugging milkmachine. No one messes with my buddies or my stuff. Unless it's Chinami-chan... huhuhu...' Suzakura shook his head quickly from side to side to focus on the task at hand, he had to catch the big guy's attention and if he could make his entrance cool. It would seal the deal on his girl-magnetism powerset. Assuming his normal height, Suzakura made a few kickboxing steps forwards into an area that made him clearly visible to those engaging the big muscular thing.

"Holy hells! That's a big gun-rifletech-pipe teachy peachy! Not as big as mine, but we can talk more about that later! Ahh you are here too foureyes? Then where is MY MINA?! Allright that does it! Transformation time!" Suzakura assumed a pose with his left foot in front of his right one, and his arms outstretched to the left and right.

Then be begun to spin on his feet slowly, as his arms reached up above his head and bone armor began to form on his arms and hands. Then he bent his shape backwards abit, still slowly spinning in place as a bone chestplate formed over his chest, along with some fitting shoulderparts. Then Suza stopped spinning and made a shaolin like kick into the air as bone began to form along his feet and legs, then he landed again, pointing with one of his hands towards Erisse, giving her a wink with his right eye, right before a bone helmet covered his head, only leaving enough room for him to see.

The bully made a few air-jabs with his bone enforced hands, and then made a pelvic thrust forwards, creating some further armor around his pelvic area. "Oooooh yeah~!" Suza said in a pleased manner, then inspected himself. Something was missing. Ah. Spikes. Thus he spent an extra couple of seconds to grow some bone spikes out of his armor in a select few places, such as his bracers and shoulderpads. But more importantly made sure to create a large one on the pelvic armor.

"Suzakura Plagerzes! Bonebaddy mark thirty-four! Here we go! I got a bone to pick with you musclemofo!" Suzakura stepped up to assume a pose with one of his hands at his hip, as he manipulated his musculature to better support him.

It was time to shine.

@Spin The Wheel@Letter Bee@RoflsMazoy@Scarifar@Crowvette

[Letter Bee]

Ken

Ken nodded, then departed the place - Somehow, the air itself weighed oppressively heavy now. What he knew now was that he had to get away, to escape the tensions between Reverio and Chinami which threatened to become a ball and chain around his ankles which would weigh him down and eventually destroy his psyche. He needed to get back home... And then try and find other friends; less dangerous ones. Was it cowardly, or was it the right thing to do?

As Ken got inside his parents' car and drove back home, he could not see any easy solution to that question. All he knew was that it was not good for him to be crushed by the inevitable conflict between Reverio and Chinami, stuck playing peacemaker forever without any success or reward.

He needed to find other friends, he needed to find people who would bolster his psyche instead of risking ruining it - Then, he could come back for Reverio and Chinami if he still felt obliged to help them, felt that there was still a ghost of a bond from the baptism of fire which should have forged them to one but wound up cracking them apart like brittle steel. As the car drove off, back home, Ken felt a coldness in his stomach and tears in his eyes at being a coward who chose his psychological health over his friends. But then again, would falling to madness and despair help said friends in the long run?

If anything, Ken knew that once classes resumed, he'd have to find friends among the Saint Laurel's students (who weren't Reverio) and the other Vigilantes; his long-term health and yes, growth depended on it. Then, once he'd grown enough, he'd come back to Reverio and Chinami, as he had said before.

Assuming their tensions had not escalated. Assuming that this bitterness and rot which had crept into their fragile connections was not going to destroy everything they had or was not already in the process of destroying the three of them like acid. As the car drove on, his father keeping a watchful eye for assassins while his mother kept a hand on her holstered pistol, Ken realized that in his own way, he was as angsty as Reverio. His friend. The bitter, hurt, cynical, and jaded man, forced to grow beyond his time.

And as Ken's eyes grew wet, wet with tears that obscured the sight of the streets through the windows, he realized that he can only weep for him, for Chinami, and their stillborn bond. As the tears tuned to sobs, as he vaguely heard his father asking why he was crying, all the boy could think of was how he was powerless to stop the tragedies which would come for them all. Even if he had the power of the Gods themselves, Ken did not have the strength of will and the clear mind needed to prevent the pain he knew would come, the kind of pain which would corrode and sever instead of binding people together while clearing fertile soil for growth.

His psyche and soul were just not strong enough to handle the strain, he felt as they finally reached home, still crying, still sobbing at the injustice of it all, an injustice he felt was of their own making. But Ken, Ken Illustrious Ikari, retained enough strength to walk back into their apartment room, an apartment room which now reminded him of Reverio's own, only with more light and love.

The boy had decided not to reveal Reverio's secrets. Nor what he knew of Chinami's. But what he can tell his parents as he sat on the sofa was that the two people he was with had suffered much and had been left... Acidic by it, each in their own unique way. What he can tell his parents was that he was powerless to stop them from hurting, as he lacked a particular 'strength of heart' needed to do so.

"What you have," Ken's father, Shinsei Ikari, said as he touched his son's shoulder, "is compassion. Do not undervalue it; it might let you rise up to something greater than you are right now..."

@Dezuel@Lewascan2

[KillamriX88]

@Dezuel@Crowvette

---

"Uhh... huh..." Vera slowly nodded in response to the strange, strange man speaking to her. She then slammed her hands over her ears when the nearby fight went completely off the rails and resulted in gunfire going off, leaving her ears ringing. "WHAT THE FUCK?!" she screamed in a mix of panic and confusion. Speaking of screaming, a few moments later she thought she heard her own name.

She glanced around to see Alex literally flying at her. She blinked once in surprise, but then jumped to her feet. She side-stepped the girl, but grabbed her wrist in the process. Flying as she was, in a way she was almost weightless. Vera flipped Alex around, almost like whipping a towel, to cancel her momentum and then tugged her back, landing the girl in Vera's arms.

"You've tackled me enough today, thanks," Vera looked down at her before placing Alex back on her own two feet. She then rubbed her ear, glancing back at the fight. At the moment, a few others had the berserk contestant busy, and the gunfire had ceased for the moment. "We should get out of here while we still can. Could probably sneak through the back behind the bar and avoid the idiots rushing toward the front door..." Vera then glanced back towards the chaos. "Unless you need to go back for that friend of yours."

[Crowvette]

Alexandria

@KillamriX88

Alex nearly toppled over after being set down by Vera, the sudden twirl leaving her dizzy. As she steadied herself, she saw that Vera was speaking. Saw... Not really heard. Things still sounded like they were in a room over from where she was. The ringing had at least subsided to a low buzz, which Alex was thankful for.

"What?" Alex rubbed her ears, only picking up parts of what Vera was saying. Her voice was raised just a little too high, betraying her lack of hearing. "Let's rush the front door? Isn't that where everyone else is gonna be?" Alex felt like it was strange of her to suggest that. Alex needed to show Vera that she was perfectly capable of thinking on her feet, and decided to make up a better plan. "It's better if we go another way and avoid the crowd! Let's go out the back!"

Alex confidently took the lead, heading towards the bar's employee exit to lead Vera out the back. It was strange of Vera to be so dazed by the situation that she'd make such a bad call, but luckily Alex was there to help.

[Dezuel]

Alrune Ihadugram Al-Zardun Dimekshia nu Karzanoon

Somewhere in an underground complex near Mephisto school... a music concert is being held.

"Burning fire inside of us! They cannot freeze our cries!

Flaming blaze inside of our core! They cannot see our wings as we soar!

When our smiles decay, laugh or it will die in vain! Such cold eyes seek to make the world crumble! Lost in their dream they cannot help but stumble!

Nowhere to go! Nowhere to hide! Put all of your doubt aside!

Raise up your courage! Your fire! Your spirit! Up the the sky! Let us all dance together now!

The memories, which I had given up comes back to haunt me! I cannot help to go along even if it's out to hurt me!

Nothing too fear! But danger somehow! It's like the... falling of the snow!

Nothing to see! Nothing to hear! Our chosen destiny draws near!

It's time to rise up! Raise your hands high! Spread your arms and let your fiery spirit fly!

Know that you'll reach that distant light somedaaaaay! Let's not keep the fight too far awaaaaaaaaaay!

AAaaaaaahhaaaaahaa aaaaahaaa haaah aaaa....."

As the highly illegal underground concert came to it's end there were plenty of people seeking autographs from the members of the band for the evening and night. Often it was the singer that ended up having to write the most, and the singer of the band was Alrune.

"I love you R.C!" A grown woman in the gathering crowd screamed out at the top of her lungs, before there was a swarm, almost like a wave of young girls swarming up to Alrune. The four guards ended up being unable to hold back the tide and soon enough they were swarming over the young singer like bees at a hive.

"I love you so much~!" One blonde girl screamed as another fainted, a young man was also up there wanting his cap signed amidst all the chaos. While the sound all around was overpowering, more so than it had been when they were on stage playing. The boy simply took the coloured pencil from his pocket, putting the lid between his lips and then with a plop let the pencil do it's magic by signing caps, papers, shirts, merchandise or not.

"I am never going to wash my arm ever again!" A pinkhaired woman in her twenties said in a cheery tone, as another brunette fainted. Again. Forcing more of the guards to dash and help the fainted ones, which left the young singer more hard pressed to say the least.

"Ahah.. did you like it?" Alrune asked one of the fans as he was getting hugged by three and pulled in his arms in at least four different directions.

"Please go on a date with me!" A younger girl with glasses blurted out amidst the gasps and shrieks, followed by another proposal. "I am going to marry you when I grow up!" A twin-tailed girl around his own age screamed out.

"Ahah...hah... ehe... uh missus-es! Ahem!" Alrune raised both his hands and the crowd went more silent to hear what he had to say.

"I highly appreciate your kind offers! But I am not ready for that kind of thing just yet." Alrune said in the most grown up manner he could project, before the crowd went back to screaming bloody murder.

"He's soo cool!" One girl yelled with a squeak, followed by a woman who looked to be in her thirties. "He's soo CUTE~! I am dying!" Amidst all the screaming and pushing, Alrune could notice a familiar face wading through the crowd, it was his manager. It took him awhile to force his way through, almost loosing his round glasses in the process.

"We highly appreciate your attendance to tonights event! Your contribution to our coff- collegeues will allow us to keep up playing for you wonderfully rich, rich in character folks!" The manager said in a manner that seemed way too cheery and energic for someone of his age. The guy was basically ancient. He was balding after all. The appearance of the manager and the signing of autographs by Alrune and the rest of the band seems to have sated the thirsty mob for now. Thus the young man once again found himself travelling down the long underground corridor to his artist room with his manager right next to him. A hand like always on his shoulder.

"You did great out there Al! We made a great profit today, the best one so far! If we keep this up we are going to be filthy rich in notime. You be amazed just how much we can charge the tickets for. You saw how wildly those girls were throwing themselves at you? They would pay ANY price we put for the tickets. Or their parents would. Either way is fine. Speaking of parents, I am sure yours are mighty proud by now." The manager said in a jovial tone, with an underlying sense of greed.

"Ahh? Well... I am happy they liked it." Alrune said in a low voice, as he was gradually guided to his room which the manager quickly opened for his singing goldmine.

"I think we may have to replace Duggo, he is not keeping up with the rest, I heard him slip on the strings. We can't allow that kind of screw-up in this branch. So he's gotta go and we find someone better. Perhaps someone whose even cheaper. The little rascal has the nerve to demand more pay. That's what I like about you Al. You are happy with what you get." The manager took out a cigar from his cigar-box that he always carried in his coat, lighting it in the room and taking a whiff.

"Duggo tried his hardest. I am sure he won't do it again. Uh... would you mind not smoking in here." Alrune said as he soon after threw himself at the bed. He was exhausted. The manager made a grunt, but soon enough put his cigar out. "Ofcourse. Anything for the second coming of Shal-Akkun. Boy that guy must have brought in millions... I wouldn't want you to feel too ill to perform. That would be disastrous." The man gave himself a mental reprimand, he had to make sure his money-making machine was performing at top quality. At least until he felt it needed to replace him. Alrune sighed deeply and blew some air through his mouth. "Again with this Shal-Akkun. I am tired of being compared with him. I am not him! Please leave me alone now! I am tired..." Alrune said in a irritated manner, his expression going slightly sour if not abit pouty.

"Listen here you lit- Fine. I will brief you soon about the next gig." The manager rose up from the seat he had hogged for himself, and exited the room. The purple haired boy gave out another sigh, reaching up with his arm to feel his forehead. The talks with the manager usually was a good source of getting a headache. But he wasn't planning on getting anymore of that for the day, thus he went up to the door and locked it, before hurling himself on the bed and burrowing his face into the pillow.

'Shal-Akkun...' He thought as his eyes began to glimmer in anger. If there was one name he didn't like to hear it was that one. Being constantly compared with an old and dead, although good musician of the past. Rumor has it he lived to see a hundred years too. Al couldn't help but think back to his home. His mother and father. All his siblings. He hoped they were all safe and well. While he held a fear to fall asleep, due to nightmares, he couldn't hold back it anymore due to how tired he was. He drifted off peacefully.