It had been a rather long walk from the palace of Connlaoth the the slums of Reajh, but it was a normal routine for Ninjesque Mordecai, Kuro Kiraa (//http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v486/Covallok/Characters/Kuro.jpg). With him is his business associate. One who he could trust. With a few turns down various alleys and streets, Kuro made his way through the slums like he was raised there. Finally, the Crouching Tiger Tavern.
"We're here." Kuro announced to his partner. He proceeded to the entrance and knocked three times.
"Password..." Came a deep voice from the other side of the door. Kuro leaned in towards the door and whispered what he knew, "Ohgol."
The door opened and there stood a very large, burly man. He threw an arm out and laid a hand that looks like it would cover Kuro's entire head and placed it on the ex-ninja's shoulder.
"'Ey! Kuro! Come ta win anotha trophy for yeself?" The large man asks with his thick and deep voice. Kuro simply brushed the man's hand off his shoulder and walked into the tavern.
Beatrid walked in silence by Kuro, not really having anything to say to him nor really wishing to carry on casual banter with, well...him. Because if she did, that might make her seem, y'know, <I>friendly with him. Which was certainly not the case. They were strictly business partners here, teamed up just because there really weren't any other options and Beatrid knew Kuro was an least pretty skilled at what he did, even if she found his style flashy and annoying. Really. The guy didn't even use guns, and that was something Beatrid always found unbelievably stupid.
Like some flimsy sword was going to save you when a series of lightning fast bullets were coming at you. Hah.
But personal criticisms aside--and she had a lot of those, but even she didn't feel petty enough to actually vocalize her thoughts on his wardrobe choices--he at least got the job done. She could give him that much credit.
Before long, they'd reached their destination it seemed and Beatrid smirked slightly at the name. Crouching Tiger. Hoo boy, tavern names would never cease to amuse her with their corniness and--right, no thinking like that, time to get serious.
As Kuro took care of everything, Beatrid stood aside and waited, only narrowing her eyes slightly when the door opened and the large man behind it confirmed what was already pretty obvious--he'd been here before. And how many times? Her eyes narrowed a little more. Better not have been when she had been out doing official Mordecai stuff and he'd been on his so-called "espionage" mission. Fucker. Why hadn't she been told of an espionage missin? She could have probably done it better, anyway, instead of getting left behind dealing with all sorts of stupid--
She cut off that line of thought, took a deep breath, and walked inside after Kuro, only nodding curtly to the man that let them in.
"So how many times you been here?" she asked Kuro under her breath, not even attempting to keep the moodiness out of her voice. How long had he been participating in something obviously illegal without making any arrests? Well...if this thing was illegal, anyway. She had her suspicions, but she'd probably have to wait and see.
In any case, she knew she wasn't here for a damned trophy. She could care less about that.
Kuro made his way through the tavern, avoiding the various bar fights and arguments. He even ignored the bartender and approaching bar wenches. He made his way to the back of the taverns and to the rear door. It was when he made it through the door when he decided to answer Beatrid's question.
"Forgive the delayed answer, but a tavern in the the slums is no place to speak freely." He stops for a brief moment and turns to Beatrid, "What do you usually do for your free time?" With that said, the dark Mordecai turns the handle on a large rum keg as if to empty it of its contents. Instead, the front of the keg opens up as if it were a door. As soon as it opens up, cheers and hollers could be heard. Inside the keg is but a ladder that leads down to the underground section of the city. Underground, where the cheers and hollers could be heard.
Beatrid followed Kuro calmly through the tavern, maneuvering around the crowd easily. Then again, most people saw the pistols and shied away so the going was pretty easy for her. Ah. Bar room brawls. Through she rolled her eyes at the scene, she honestly couldn't say anything about the people that participated in such petty fights. After all, she'd been in more than a few herself after having one too many mugs of cheap ale after a stressful day.
A short bar wench bumped into her as she tried to balance a tray of mugs while avoiding the chaos, and Beatrid casually placed a hand on the woman's shoulder to help steady her before blinking a few times when the woman glanced up at her. Whoa. She...actually recognized the woman...only she'd been working at another tavern at the time when they'd been casual acquaintances. How did she end up in a trashy place like this? The place she'd worked at before had been a lot better, or at least in a more up and coming section of Reajh...
The woman smiled up at her concerned face before hefting her tray, winking to affirm she recognized her, and continuing on her way without a word. She was busy, obviously, and Beatrid was occupied, too, but the woman seemed like she'd be alright. Still...it kind of saddened her to see someone she once knew in a shady, crappy place like this, even though there was nothing she could do about it. Maybe it had something to do with the attack some months back...that had destroyed a lot of businesses, and Beatrid hadn't been back to that tavern in ages. Maybe it was in a section that had been destroyed...
With a sigh and slight clenching of her fists, Beatrid continued on after Kuro. Fucking mages...not only was killing not enough for them, but they'd started attacking the city itself, putting people out of work and home alike. It was sad...this wasn't the first time Beatrid had seen this since then, either. Fuckers, all of them...
It made her love her job all the more, because she knew she was bringing those assholes to justice for what they'd done. That was probably what she loved the most. Oh, sure, the fighting was fun and all. But she liked feeling like she was making a difference, even if her contribution was just one small piece of the big picture.
Finally she caught up to Kuro, and she shrugged a little dismissively. "Yeah, I know. I'm no stranger to the slums," Beatrid muttered in annoyance before giving him a look.
"Now's not really the time to discuss hobbies. But whatever. Me? Depends on my mood. Sometimes I get drunk off my ass. Sometimes I just read smutty novels or historical documents. Sometimes I pester the trainees. Sometimes I hit the town with Hek. I have a lot of interests. I don't do just one thing," she said. "What about you?"
As soon as she asked the question, she turned, dropped down on her hands and knees, and crawled backwards carefully so she could finally descend down the ladder. Huh. A keg entrance. Interesting, but not too safe for a secret venue if someone tried to get any ale from the keg. Ah well, not her problem. The cheers were obviously where the fight was at, so that was where she was going. No hesitation on her part. For better or for worse, Beatrid always had been pretty damned fearless.
Usually. She was only human, after all.
Kuro crossed his arms behind his back and patiently waited as Beatrid crawled to the ladder and began her decent. He waited until she was all the way down and away from the ladder before he decided to touch it. He slowly crawled onto the ladder and closed the keg door behind him. He takes but two steps down the ladder before he throws his feet to the outside of the latter and tightens them to the outer part. He loosely grabs onto the outside of the ladder, so he could slide down the latter the whole two hundred feet down. When he reaches the bottom, he turns to the impressibility large coliseum and walks towards it.
"You are about to witness what I do for my free time." Kuro announced to his teammate as he calmly walked by her with his natural blank expression on his facade. This is him, being excited.
Once they reached the front of the coliseum, one could tell that the cash handler in the front was bored, with his head slumped into his hands. Not even looking to the new arrivals, he begins to speak,
"Spectator entry fee is ten gold and the entrance is to the right of me. The participant entrance is to the left of me. If you wish to place any bets, please do so here." After his banter and blank stare into nothingness, the cash handler finally takes a side glance at Kuro.
"Oh! Hey Kuro! Come back for another exciting evening? I can't wait to see what you would do for us today. Who's the chick? Did you finally decide to settle down?" The cash handler's attitude changed substantially when he noticed he was dealing with Kuro. The dark Mordecai had to lean in close to speak to the man.
"Do you remember what happened to Frank when he decided to accidentally insult Karen?" Kuro asks only to receive a nod for an answer.
"Well, this one is worse. So, I suggest holding your tongue before you find yourself unwillingly swallowing it. This will be my partner for this week's tournament." Now a bit shaken up, the cash handler pulls out an quill and in a shaking manner, hands it to Kuro to sign up for the tournament. After all was done, the cash handler points a shaking hand to his left. Kuro slowly walks in that direction.
The Crouching Tiger Tavern indeed. Did these people have no imagination? Not to mention any class.
A scowl marred Charmeines beauty for a moment, then was gone as she smoothed her features and entered the less than reputable looking…establishment. A broiling cesspool of a place if ever she’d seen one, bar fights breaking out every which way, barmaids scurrying about trying not to get pinched. Not the sort of place Charmeine would usually visit, but orders were orders, and when it cam to demons it was always a bad idea to waste time. That’s what the theory said anyway…she’d never actually encountered a demon herself exactly.
She glanced about, getting quite a few stares from the patrons, searching for her charge. It shouldn’t be all that difficult in a place like this to find who she was after. She went over the orders again in her head.
Mission class 368B
Human female Beatrid Al’teir aged 26 is suspected victim of demonic encounter.
Age: 26
Height: 5’7�
Brown braid. Dragoon in local military. Possible magical nullification ability, no magic based technology is to be taken.
Discover and stop demonic influence. Corrupter class demon suspected. Do not directly engage.
Short, sweet, to the point. Class 368B meant non-violent demon attack, perfect for an angel of her level. Charmeine possessed no combat ability whatsoever, so not engaging the demon wouldn’t be a problem. Charmeine stood in the doorway, unsure of her best approach to this crowd. Her fine linen sarong and corset, which revealed a considerable expanse of pale bosom, was attracting quite a few stares. The corset was leather, and dipped low at the back to reveal the large tattoo of feathery wings that covered most of her back. There were swirling tattoos on the back of her hands and wrists too, and both seemed to have been inked with liquid gold. Grey ankle high boots with raised heels and upturned tops completed the ensemble. It had been high fashion during the period Charmeine was a mortal, thousands of years ago, before the world’s rebirth. It suddenly seemed like not quite as good an idea as she originally had thought. Waves of pale yellow hair framed her heart shaped face, falling just below her shoulders. She had been pretty before ascending, and acceptance into the folds of heaven had augmented that to pure beauty. Blue eyes, full lips, a tiny beauty spot just above the right corner of her mouth and a nicely curved body certainly weren’t going to help her get through the mob.
She could sense her charge, this Beatrid, sense where se was. Well, the direction anyway. It was like an itch, an itch that would only go away once Charmeine found her. She was in the direction of the door at the back leading to the kitchens or something, and somehow significantly down as well. Strange.
Holding her head high Charmeine strode towards the door. Well, she strode for about three steps at least. On the fourth she whirled about to slap whoever had grabbed her bottom, only to have her groped from the other side. She burst into the back room at a dead run, slamming the door behind herself. Breathing heavily and readjusting her sarong, which had moved around to become quite indecent in her flight, Charmeine studied the room. A wine room, it seemed, holding rows of various sized casks and barrels. Beatrid was definitely nearby, yet more down now that forward.
Something caught her eye, something….odd. One of the barrels had a handle on it in addition to its tap. What on earth could a barrel have a handle for? She snickered at it. What a pathetic way to hide an entrance. These people really were primitive; they didn’t even have the basics of projected imaging yet!
Still grinning at the crudeness of it all Charmeine yanked open the ‘door’ revealing a ladder and a deep hole. Noises echoed up from below. Well, down the hatch then. She went down backwards, hoping there was no one looking up from the bottom of the ladder â€" undergarments were just not practical with a sarong!
Beatrid rolled her eyes as she watched Kuro slide down the ladder. Of course he'd choose the fancy way, though granted it was the quicker way which she hadn't even thought about. Bah. Oh well. Her way was the not lazy way and it built more muscle, too. Yeah. That was her story and she was sticking to it.
Turning her attention away from Kuro and focusing on the collossium, she had to wonder how the hell people had built this thing under here to begin with, how they'd managed to excavate such a large cavern beneath the tavern. Either it had been here before the tavern, or the tavern had come first...ugh, why was she thinking about architexture and design now when she was on the verge of participating in a tournament? She should be getting pumped up right about now, get the adrenaline flowing, not pondering which came first, the tavern or the cavern. That sounded like a really corny philosophical question...
"This is all you do for your free time? Huh. ya need some more interests, boy," Beatrid murmured the last part under her breath, clearly not intending him to hear it but not especially caring if he did. Of course, while she loved sparring and honing her skills, she didn't exactly consider that free time because it was all work related. She enjoyed it, she loved her work, but it was still work. Free time for her was getting plastered, playing pranks, hanging with friends, and sometimes spending quiet time alone with her thoughts or a book or two. Fighting was great and all, but she needed a break now and then. She wasn't a fighting machine, she was human.
She followed after Kuro, idly tucking her braid down the back of her shirt so it would be out of the way when it was time to brawl. Kuro's apparent excitement was lost on her; to her he was as blank, emotionless, and dull as ever.
That bugged her too. The guy looked it, but he just never <I>acted alive and human.
The man that worked the counter looked amazingly bored for someone who worked in what she assumed was supposed to be an entertaining, underground, secret venue. This didn't look promising. It might not even be worth it. Still, lousy opponents or not, she wasn't here for pleasure and she had to remind herself of that--it was for purely investigative purposes and--
What did he just say?!
Chick?! Settle down?! With Kuro?! Haha, hell fucking no! And what was with this chick shit? Beatrid's body tensed as a dangerously dark look settled on her face, a look that always promised pain to whoever it was directed at. Her fingers flexed before balling into fists and she was about three seconds away from closing the distance between she and the cash handler and giving him a taste of her knuckles before Kuro smartly intervened.
Which was good, because it gave her time to calm down a little and remember that she wasn't wearing her uniform, so he'd have no way of knowing she was a soldier and that calling her chick was a major no-no. Not that she would have liked it any more if she <I>wasn't a soldier.
Shooting the cash handler a scathing look as the transaction was finished, she growled something to herself softly and followed after Kuro, completely unaware that someone else, someone angelic, had their eye on her.
More interests? Kuro does have another interest, but he has yet to find himself with coming out with it. The silent treatment is all Beatrid will receive from him. The ninjesque Mordecai enters the coliseum through the participant doorway, soon after the cash handler had pointed to the door. This leads to a hallway with several doors. There's a branch off at the end of the hallway that leads to the arena portion of the coliseum. Each door in the hallways leads to multiple different waiting rooms for separate fighters. Kuro walks about halfway through the hallway before picking a door to enter, Waiting Room #13.
Save for the furniture, the room is empty. No one in the room. There are two sofas and a couch, circling a table in the middle of the room and a couple beds in the back. Another door in the back of the room leads to what one would assume to be the restroom. Kuro slowly covers the distance between himself and the nearest sofa to the door and takes a seat.
"Now we wait our turn." Kuro notes, just to give Beatrid a heads up.
Entering the room after Kuro, Beatrid scanned the area, noting the comfy sofas and couch, the table, and...the beds? The fuck were there beds here for? Either it was so people could catch a quick nap before or after a fight...or it was for those perverts who couldn't wait to get home before having a tumble between the sheets.
Both eyebrows arched before, with a snort, she collapsed in the sofa across from the one Kuro sat in. She leaned back comfortably against the cushions and crossed one leg over the other, then just stared up at the ceiling--before shifting a little uncomfortably when she felt one of her pistols pressing into her hip. She didn't bother to move it, though. If she moved it, the holster would still be there and she wasn't about to go through the trouble of removing that when they'd be entering the collossium some time soon. Besides, the discomfort would keep her awake until it was time to fight. Waiting. Waiting was always such a pain in the ass.
Speaking of waiting...
Waiting Room #13. Heh. The irony wasn't lost on her, and she found the number appropriate.
"How long they gonna make us wait?" Beatrid asked after a few minutes, finally looking away from the ceiling and to Kuro, her fingers drumming impatiently on the arm of the sofa. She hated waiting. Hated it so much. And having to wait in a room alone with Kuro was starting to jab at her nerves. Of course, she knew it was her own damn fault so she couldn't complain about it, and right now she could only wonder if she was an emotional masochist or something for putting herself in a situation she knew would irritate her. Sometimes she wondered about herself and her own choices...
Unbeknownst to Beatrid, Kuro found it comforting to find a room with no one in it. This way, he could feel more relaxed with solely her presence. The few minutes of silence was halted by her voice. Kuro looks in her direction before answering,
"We wait until our match is up. They come get us ten minutes prior, so we can at least prepare before the match. Judging by how we were written into the list, it will be a while before it's our turn. That is, depending on how fast the other matches go." Kuro's explanation oddly had a bit of emotion in it. Not like him to sound... 'emotional'.
"Ahh..." Beatrid murmured, frowning a little. A while? Eh. It was a vague answer but good enough, and it was certainly better than having no answer at all. It actually made her feel a little less antsy. Mostly it was not knowing at all that drove her nuts; if she was going to be waiting around, she liked to at least know if it was going to be a short wait or a long wait so she could decide whether it was worth it to get comfortable. In that case, since it was going to be a while, she supposed she might as well get settled in.
Drawing her legs up, she stretched out across the sofa on her back like she owned it, back resting against one of the arms with her boot-clad feet propped up on the opposite one. Ah, much better. Staring up at the ceiling again and folding her arms over her chest, it seemed that some of the tension had gone out of her. But then again, she was also no longer leaning against one side of the sofa so the pistol was no longer jabbing her in the side.
"I take it since we're in room thirteen there's gonna be thirteen matches ahead of us?" she questioned, throwing another look his way. Interesting. When he'd been explaining everything a few seconds back, it had almost sounded like he was...not so blank. Kuro? Using different voice inflections? Maybe it was her imagination and the result of boredom. She would have brought a book if she knew there would be waiting involved.
But since she had no book, and since the only other option was counting the seconds that passed and bored stiff or attempting to make conversation with somene who had the conversational skills of a rock, she decided to take her chances with the rock for once. Boredom could drive her to taking extreme measures, and it was something that could get the time to pass a little quicker.
"Just so you know, you better let me fight," she said abruptly, looking Kuro dead in the eyes, her own blue eyes narrowed. She still looked relaxed sprawled there on the sofa, but her tone said she was very serious. "You interfere and keep trying to 'protect' me or whatever the fuck it is you do and I don't care who my opponent is, I'll team up with them and go after you first, you got it? You just focus on what you're doing, and I'll focus on what I'm doing. I don't need protection. We gotta watch each other's backs, yeah, but unless I'm screaming and bleeding, you damn well <I>better not interfere."
Not that Beatrid's conversational skills were any better a lot of the time.
A short reply later, and Kuro sat and watched as Beatrid tried to make comfort out of the sofa. Could have been much easier on the couch. Then she questioned about the room number. This made Kuro look towards the door, then back to his comrade.
"No, I always come to this room. I guess you could say thirteen is my lucky number." Kuro had slightly smiled behind his black scarf when he mentioned his lucky number. Not really enough to be noticed by the rest of his facial features, but it was a smile. He suddenly found his yellow eyes looking directly into Beatrid's blue eyes as she laid the plan out. He smiled again. This time, it could be seen through his eyes. Only briefly though, as he soon looked away after smiling.
"About that..." He speaks up as he looks at the ground next to his foot. "I have a good reason why my actions have been what they were these past years."
"Isn't thirteen unlucky to a lot of people?" Beatrid asked idly, then shrugged and added, "Not that I'm superstitious. I think that stuff's crap." Though maybe she was a little supertitious to <I>some degree, considering her beliefs regarding magic. But that wasn't superstition to her--that was fact. Magic was evil, it was a very real threat, and that was that.
Beatrid was oblivious to his smile, considering it was hidden behind the scarf, but she did notice the change in his eyes after she'd laid out the terms. His expression didn't look so stony; it looked somehow softer, and she recognized that look. Not in him, but in just about everyone else. Was he smiling? Amused? Wait, come to think of it, she didn't think she'd ever seen his expression look anything but flat and emotionless.
Interesting. He must really enjoy this tournament stuff after all. Huh. Maybe he had his public and private side too.
Her own eyes widened a little--as opposed to being all narrowed and scowly--and her eyebrows lifted. He had a reason, did he? Oh, she was definitely interested in hearing this, especially since he suddenly seemed to find the ground very intriguing.
"Do you, now?" she said, sitting up a little. "Care to fill me in so I can be the judge of how good of a reason it is? Because you've been driving me fucking nuts, and I'd really like a reason not to break your bloody nose the next time you do something idiotic. I hate cleaning the dog kennels, you see."
Kuro stands up out of his sofa as Beatrid seems interested in what he has on his mind. He's about ready to tell her, but his attention is focused on the door. From there, he slowly turns his attention to Beatrid.
"If it bothers you that much, I'll stand by and let you handle the match. I won't lift a single finger unless you ask for my help. I think I'll apply that in general. I'm sorry if I may have inconvenienced you, it was all in good nature." Kuro's words were all but emotionless. In fact, he sounded concerned. Soon after his words were passed across the room, the door opens up and a messenger sticks his head in through the doorway.
"You two have ten minutes before your next match. Be prepared." With that, he leaves the two of them to their peace.
"That's not what I meant, dumbass," Beatrid growled, shooting him a glare. "We'll both fight. We'll both handle the match. We'll both be in the ring fighting. But we'll both also just worry about ourselves unless the other asks for help, got it? Or unless the other is in a position where they can't defend themselves. That make sense? But other than that, you worry about yourself, I'll worry about myself. I don't need you throwing yourself in front of a blow I'm perfectly trained to avoid or deflect and I don't need to be patronized or protected."
That notion, that she needed to be protected...that just pissed her off. As if she hadn't been a soldier for years and worked her way to being a Dragoon. While the concern in his voice was unusual, it was also a little irritating at the moment. Don't tell her he was <I>worried about her. Why?! She was a soldier, dammit! She damn well knew the risks that came with any sort of combat, and just like him she'd accepted them. Why was it any different?
That was when the door opened and a messenger poked his head in, announcing that the match would start in ten minutes. Finally.
With a nod, Beatrid slid out of the sofa and to her feet before she got to work on a quick warm up routine. Basically it was just a series of stretches to limber up so she wouldn't pull anything, stretching out her arms, her legs, her back, and even rolling her head to ease any tension out of her neck. She did the stretches every morning so she'd already done them once, but it never hurt to do it again before some sparring, exercises, or in this case a tournament.
"So," she said as she stretched her legs and back, pressing her hands flat to the floor. "What are the rules of this tournament? Are weapons allowed?"
"If you insist." That was all the dark Mordecai could muster after Beatrid had explained what will happen. If only she knew what was on his mind. Perhaps that would allow her to place herself in his shoes. Kuro slowly paced his way to the door as Beatrid went through her stretches. He stopped at the door as she asked about the rules of the tournament.
"There are no rules." Another short reply, but this one should answer a lot. He waits a few moments before proceeding out the door. Without a word he closes the door behind himself and continues towards the arena through the hallway. After turning the corner at the end of the hallway that leads to the center of the arena, Kuro stops at the gate and patiently waits for Beatrid. Because of what he knows about this upcoming match, Kuro is going to stick to his word.
Beatrid raised both eyebrows and paused. "None, eh?" she murmured, more to herself than to him as he headed out the door. What, he wasn't going to prep or anything? Ah well.
No rules. So if there were no rules, and the flyer said anything could happen...that meant killing would likely be acceptable, too. Shit. Yeah. This was illegal all right, and she immedietely had a bad feeling about this...and she also couldn't help but wonder why Kuro hadn't reported this and had instead been participating for who knew how long. If it was just an underground fight club, she could understand it. Those were fine. But blatant murder (which was basically what these death matches were) wasn't legal. Simple as that.
Participating in them probably wasn't, either...shit, shit, shit. But it was a little too late for that now, wasn't it? Besides. She was investigating. And participating was the best way to really get all the needed information, right? And like she'd originally thought, magic-users would likely be drawn to this sort of shady venue. All she had to do was look for people who were acting weird around her.
This was only for this one time, anyway...once they got back, she was reporting this whole thing so the proper authorities could be sent in to shut this place down.
Meanwhile...eh, she was in too deep already. Guess she had no choice but to enjoy it.
And she would. It'd be a great way to release some aggression, though she sure as hell wouldn't be fighting to kill. Only to incapacitate.
When she was finished, she made a quick check of her pistols before holstering them and heading out the door to wherever it was Kuro had gone. It didn't take long to find him at the end of the hallway in front of the gates, and she came to a stop a few feet away from him. Hopefully she had killed a lot of time doing her stretches in the waiting room. "Not gonna warm up?" she asked idly, cracking her knuckles. Not that she cared, really; he could do what he wanted. It was just another clumsy attempt at conversation to get the minutes to roll by faster.
Illegal? Kuro really isn't the one to care about such things. So what if he came by weekly to knock off a few heads? It was his business. Not like anyone cared about the street trash that fights here anyway. It was just odd for Kuro to have received a flyer, mentioning the place.
"No need." The dark Mordecai replies just as the gate opens up. The roar of the crowd out in the coliseum grows louder as the fight is about to begin. Before moving forward, Kuro reaches up to his face and removes his scarf. He then turns to Beatrid and holds it out to her.
"I want you to take this. For luck." He notes. Not very often does he reveal his scar riddled face. In fact, almost no one has seen it. If anything, he simply looks like another pretty face that's been in a few scrapes.
Out in the arena, stands a giant of a man. A man who stands at a whopping eight feet. His muscle mass adds to the affect of a tank. The man wears gleaming armor from head to toe, complete with a helmet that looks like a demon's skull. He wields a massive stone hammer, where the head of the hammer is as big as Kuro. Rather inhuman for a human. To Kuro, guys like this would be a pushover. But to stick to his word, Kuro will refrain from jumping in unless asked to. The arena itself covers a rather wide area. Four large pillars are all that are available, besides the ring itself.
Huh, someone was sure confident. Not that she wasn't, too, because if she wasn't she wouldn't be here. She'd seen a lot of crazy shit and she was pretty sure nothing could surprise her anymore, and that there was nothing she couldn't be prepared for.
Especially since she had a little extra help now, her every sense heightened beyond what a normal human's should be. Oh, she hated it, hated having to rely upon a substance that wasn't natural and of her body's own making, hated feeling dependent upon it, hated relying upon someone she didn't trust to keep supplying her with it, but...she really had no choice. If she came off it, she went blind and lethargic. But on it, her performance was vastly improved and, well, that was what had driven her to it in the first place. She'd been feeling inadequate. And <I>that was far worse than any addiction, so she choose the addiction and dependency over the inadequacy.
So what if it made her jumpy? She could deal. The benefits were worth it.
The gates opened and the roar of the crowd came out loud and clear, near deafening to Beatrid's more sensitive ears. She winced a little but tried not to show it. Alright...this might be a problem...that might distract her. Damn. She wished there was a way to turn <I>off some senses once in a while...but she'd just have to suck it up and get used to it.
"What?" she snapped, jolting and turning to Kuro as he spoke, having been distracted by the crowd. Then she untensed and blinked. He had his scarf off and was holding it out to her. Eh? Blinking several more times, she looked from the scarf to Kuro's face which...was absent of the scarf for once, obviously. For a few seconds she looked at his face, then she snorted. "Huh. And here I thought you'd be some fucking rock monster beneath that or something," she commented before shaking her head and frowning. "I don't need luck." Then she raised an eyebrow and wrinkled her nose. "And that thing's been around your nose and mouth for who knows how long...what the hell do you do when you gotta sneeze? Ugh, but whatever, if it'll keep you from bitching..."
Snatching the lightweight object from him, she wadded it up and stuffed it in a pocket before walking through the gate, both hands resting on her pistols, ready to draw them.
And hell, would she need them. The guy that awaited her? She didn't think humans could get that big.
Towering over her five feet seven inches, he was covered in armor and held a massive hammer. Shit. One hit with that thing and it'd be over. Not that she intended on getting hit. Relaxing and refusing to be intimidated, she immedietely began to size him up, examining the armor for any weak points and thanking her new and improved vision that she could do that from such a distance. Weak points, weak points...that's where she would have to shoot, and she did have a slight advantage in that her weapon was long ranged while this ogre had a close range weapon. She would just have to stay away from him.
Then a sudden thought struck her and she looked back to the gate. Wait, why the hell wasn't Kuro out here, too?
"The fuck are you doing?" she called out to him, taking her eyes off the giant for a second to toss a look his way.
Beatrid's reaction to Kuro's luck offer didn't affect him in any way. Regardless, she took his scarf and stepped into the arena. All Kuro did was step into the arena enough so the gate can close behind him. To start off a shaky foot, Beatrid takes her eyes off their opponent to ask why Kuro hasn't moved much. Bad idea. Though it could not be seen, the giant of a man smiles behind his helmet. He wastes no time in covering the distance between himself and Beatrid, hammer raised high.
Kuro would lower his head while shaking it in disapproval on Beatrid's part, but there's no time for that. He almost instantly throws out an arm when the giant began lumbering towards the dark Mordecai's companion. A throwing knife flew from Kuro's arm and directly passed Beatrid's head. The blade then embeds itself into a small opening where the giant's armor parts from between his arm and shoulder. The giant stops in his track with a grunt of slight pain. He drops both of his arms and reaches for the arm, holding the hammer.
Kuro dashes by Beatrid at a speed no normal human could ever possibly muster and leaps over the large man as he holds his hand away from his armpit with blood dripping from it. As soon as Kuro lands, he slams his back into the back of the giant, causing him to stumble forward a bit.
"YOU PEST!!" The giant yells as he swings around at Kuro with his hammer. The ninjesque Mordecai flips to the side on time for the hammer to sail just underneath him. After the hammer passes by Kuro, he plants a palm on the ground to push himself up onto the fifteen foot high pillar that was nearby. From his high perch, Kuro crosses his arms as if he were mocking the giant.
"COME BACK DOWN HERE SO I CAN CRUSH YOU LIKE A BUG!!" Another yell could be heard from the raged giant. The giant, who has all of his attention focused on Kuro.
It took all of thirty seconds for Charmeine to charm her way past the brutish fellow taking the money. Men were such lustful creatures; it was all too easy to have them running to do her bidding with a smile and some heavy breathing. She wasn’t quite sure what hit her first upon entering the arena stands, the noise or the smell. The crowd was cheering loudly at what Charmeine expected were the competitors down in the pit. Looking at the crude wooden stands full of sweaty men that stood â€" barely â€" around the dug out hole that was the fighting ring, the pungent smell was hardly unexpected. The floor was rough slate, becoming stone near to the pit, rough granite that created solid walls and formed the tall pillars in the arena, for the fighters to hide behind she supposed.
No one had noticed her yet, all eyes being focused on the fighting, but as soon as she stepped forward and began to hunt for a seat near the fighters eyes began to follow her. It appeared that she was to only woman present. Gulping and trying to ignore the jeers and lewd suggestions that followed her Charmeine scanned the front rows, consciously trying to avoid walking in her usual, swaying manner. A knife suddenly flew up from the arena and struck a man on the end of the front row in the face, killing him instantly. She gaped at where it had come from. The dagger had bounced off a large, no huge man like creatures armour. The beast swung its weapon and crushed the knife thrower against a wall.
Charmeine positively leaped to the right as the body of the spectator collapsed and brushed her leg on its way down. She felt solid hands close around her tiny waist as she was still gaping at the body, picking her up and the plinking her back down again. She sat now with two large men, friends apparently, one of whom had just placed her in that spot.
“You can sit ‘ere sweetheart,� growled the man who had picked her up. Both of them were looking at her and grinning. On the plus side the rest of the crowd, while some of them were still looking, had apparently decided that she was not worth the trouble if these two had claimed her.
“Uh…thank you.� She managed weakly.
They grinned even wider.
***
Fifteen or so minutes later Charmeine was still sitting there, watching the giant rip apart victim after victim. She waited, while her charge apparently stayed still. The worry of her charge, Beatrid rather, having to face the armour clad monstrosity had almost let her forget the fact that the men on either side of her each had a hand playing with one of her breasts. She was utterly embarrassed, and felt abused and violated, but she kept reminding herself that there was no other choice. These two were the only thing keeping the other men off, and they would surely do far worse to her. As it was, these two seemed content to protect her as long as they each could fondle her while watching the fighting. She gripped her leather bodice in her hand at her side, which they had made her remove. They had also made her part her sarong and leave her legs open for them to look at her crotch. All for the greater good. All for the charge.
Her heart leaped when she felt Beatrid move again, getting closer to the arena. She lingered at the door for a moment, waiting to be admitted, the as the gates opened Charmeine saw her charge for the first time, and felt a sudden surge of need to reach her, just to touch her. One touch would make the implanted tracer disappear, and the longing along with it.
It frustrated her to no end to see her charge, or rather the rather silly looking man who was with her, fighting the beast. That man…he seemed able to perform acrobatic feats that no human, for that matter no demon, could do without magical aid. Perhaps Beatrid didn’t have magic nullification abilities after all.
She seemed to be doing alright for herself, but Charmeine couldn’t help but feel utterly useless sitting there being groped with her legs spread to the world, and more immediately to the intently watching men in the nearby parts of the stands.
Still, she bided her time, waiting for the opportune moment to escape her captors and join her charge. Hopefully that wound be after the giant creature was dead.
It wasn't Beatrid's fault, really. She had been thinking of this as a tournament, and even if it didn't have rules usually there was at least a signal given to start the match. She didn't know just walking into the arena was the signal.
However, Beatrid was also a quick learner, and even if she'd taken her eyes off the giant for a moment her reflexes were honed and heightened under the influence of the drug--and it also helped that a creature that big and bulky couldn't exactly move silently, so she had warning. She jerked back to attention with a curse, turning to face the man, and she smoothly drew and cocked both pistols at the same time a knife arced through the air to strike at a weak spot in the armor--one of the exact areas she had already noticed. The joints were vulnerable; the armor parted there to allow the guy to move. But if it had been her choice, she wouldn't have gone for the arms, but for the legs.
Which was what she planned on doing. Maybe she should aim for the weak spots around the neck, but she didn't plan on killing; she just didn't kill where it wasn't needed, and she wasn't going to kill just for the sport of it.
Beatrid wasn't immobile as Kuro did his crazy acrobatics and she didn't pay much attention to him save to acknowledge that he was doing a good job of distracting their opponent, who seemed to have a one track mind. Darting backwards, not daring to let the man out of her line of vision and keeping both pistols fixed on her target, she put some distance between them and slipped behind the thick pillar that was across from the one Kuro was currently on top of. While the giant bellowed at Kuro, she aimed around the pillar and waited for him to move, watching his legs and the way the armor moved and was connected. Then when he shifted, she caught sight of an opening; the armor parted just a little at the outer thigh where the leg met the hip, and in a second she had that small target lined up with both pistols.
And began to fire, her aim dead-on.
She didn't like fighting at such a distance, it felt horribly awkward, but with someone <I>that much larger than her she really had no choice. Distance would be her advantage here, not brute strength, and the pillar would offer her some cover. Of course, a swing of the hammer could probably bring it down, but it wasn't like she planned on standing still.
Unfortunately for the woman in the stands, she was unaware of what was happening. But if she found out...yeah, those men would be dead men.
The giant raised his hammer, still enraged about Kuro, ready to strike down the pillar the dark Mordecai stands on, when...
BANG!
"ARHHH!!" The giant yells out in pain, dropping to one knee while loosing grip of his hammer completely. He brings his already bloodied hand to his wounded thigh to feel for the bullet hole as more rounds strike around him and pelt his armor.
"YOU BITCH!" Another holler is thrown out from the giant. This time, it's at Beatrid. He shakily stands up and lifts his hammer into one hand. The monstrous man begins to charge in the femme sniper's direction as Kuro swiftly unsheathes his katana and leaps off the pillar. The former assassin lands in the giant man's path and raises his blade to about his own shoulder level and holds a tight grip with both arms. With the giant's lumbering momentum and Kuro's prepared footing, the large man collides into the ex-assassin. This movement forces the blade to be lodged through the armor and into the giant man's chest. It also pushed Kuro back enough to where one of his heels is up against the pillar behind him.
Giving no time for recovery, Kuro releases his lodged sword and reaches behind his back to unsheathe a dagger. with a quick motion, Kuro throws his arm up to knock the giant's helmet off. At the same time, the dagger he held had left a deep gash along the large man's chin. The dark Mordecai finally leaps up onto the pillar behind himself as the giant brings both hands to his chin and begins to yell in pain. No vulgar names thrown out this time.
[This is gonna suck, but I'm distracted and in a hurry. xD]
That man should have been dead when the sword slid through his chest, but instead he just kept on going, obviously either high on adrenaline, the blade had miraculously missed any organs and bones, or he was simply not as human as he looked. Not that he even really looked human considering he was eight feet tall and all. But no, instead of keeling over dead or in massive pain, he just kept on going, and genius Kuro lead the bastard right to the pillar she was currently positioned behind, hammer and all.
On the plus side, Kuro also knocked off the guy's helmet and distracted him with that cut to the chin, and Beatrid acted without thinking or hesitation, running purely on instinct and training at this point. As soon as the man had yelled that expletive, as soon as he'd started charging toward her with that hammer, thought left her, along with any thoughts of morality and honor, and only the adrenaline, her training, and the drug pumping through her veins remained, screaming at her to kill him before he killed her. If it weren't for that drug, things may have been different; she may have remembered that she didn't actually want to kill him, she may have remained more calm and in control.
But as soon as that helmet was off, she shifted her aim from his joints to his face and, heart in her throat, she pulled the triggers.
Blood exploded from both of the man's eyes as the bullets drove home, bone, brain, and blood spraying out from the back of his head. Unless he was completely inhuman, and even if he was, he wasn't bouncing back from that one.
Kuro's eyes widened when the interior of the giant man's head exploded out the back of his head. The dark Mordecai quickly turned his attention to Beatrid as the enormous corpse hit the ground hard, causing it to shake slightly. This causes Kuro to lose his footing on his pillar and slip off. As if he always had the grace and agility of a feline, the ninjesque Mordecai quickly regains himself and midair and lands on his feet, directly in front of Beatrid. He didn't mean to, it just happened.
Without an exchange of words or anything, Kuro turns away from his comrade and walks to the giant man's corpse and pulls the sword out of his chest. Without wiping the blood off, Kuro sheathes the katana and continues to walk towards the exit of the arena. From there, he would make his way to his specified waiting room, number 13. The mess will take a while to clean up before the next match takes place.
Beatrid was panting hard and staring at the place where the giant had once stood, her hands trembling slightly around the pistols. Oh...fuck. Had she really just done that? The guy was dead, there was no mistake about it...shot through both eyes, a feat doubted she would have been able to pull off if she didn't have the aid of the drugs. Her aim was good, but it wasn't that good, but...shit. She hadn't meant to kill him. She hadn't wanted to actually kill anyone here, only incapacitate. That had been pure reflex.
She'd just killed someone in an illegal fighting ring.
Her mind quickly worked to justify it, though; he was a criminal, and from the bloodstains on his club, he'd killed or at least brutally injured quite a few people here. He'd been about to kill her.
Yeah...it was justified. This mission was justified, too. She had to get inside the ring to see what was really happening for herself. Yeah...
When Kuro landed in front of her, that snapped her out of her shocked reverie and with a jerk she pointed both pistols at him, just a finger-pull away from firing a shot at him. But then her eyes focused and she recognized him, and she quickly loosened her grip, lowered her arms, and rolled her shoulders to ease some of the tension out of them. Shit. As helpful as this drug was, it was dangerous; the jumpy reflexes...she could have done without those. She didn't want to end up accidentally shooting a partner just because they tapped her on the shoulder unexpectedly.
Watching Kuro pull the blade from the man's chest as she caught her bearings and let the adrenaline recede, she grimaced when he sheathed the sword--without cleaning it first. Eugh. That...was pretty nasty. The metal would get all gross, the sheath would be filthy...jeez, he could have wiped it off on the dead guy's shirt at least. But Beatrid said nothing, only took another deep breath, twirled her pistols, and shoved them both back into the holsters at her belt. Well. Alright. Now she knew what to expect from these battles. Literally anything went, including death. Alright then.
She'd be ready next time. No need to feel guilty about this. They were all bloodthirsty criminals.
Not even sparing the giant another look, still working on cleansing her conscience, she headed out of the collosseum and back toward the waiting room, number thirteen. And with every step she took, the shakiness began to wear off, the horror at what she'd done began to vanish, as a new realization dawned.
Kuro hadn't interferred for once. He hadn't tried to "save" her. She'd brought that giant down, <I>she been the one to deliver the finishing blow, and damn if she hadn't done a good job of it, either! How many people could pull off a shot like that? Heh! Not many, she sure hadn't heard of it being done before! And who cared if she'd killed the guy? He was scum. What difference was there between killing scum in the line of "official" duty and taking someone out on her own? He was still a criminal, with or without the official orders. If the higher ups knew about this place, they would have just given her the orders anyway.
By the time she'd reached the room and pulled the door open, she was grinning a little, her back straighter and head higher. With a smile at Kuro, she crossed the room and threw herself onto one of the sofas, stretching out across it and propping her booted feet up against one of the arms.
"Well that was fun, I'll admit," she commented conversationally, folding her arms under her head and leaning back against the sofa's other arm, crossing her legs at the ankle. "Heh! And whatcha think of that shot? Not many can pull that! See, Kuro? Toldja I'm a big girl. Well. Little bitch with a big shot, rather," she boasted cheerily.
Yeah. She'd shown him.
"Which is why I'm starting to feel a little concerned. That wasn't you out there, Beatrid. I know it and I'm not sure if you know it." Kuro's voice crossed the room to Beatrid as he remained leaned back against the wall on the other side of the room. He had calmly waited for her to finish with her boasting before speaking up.
"Since when do you brag about killing someone? I don't recall you ever boasting about anything. Ever. Not to mention no normal human can shoot that well, trained or not. You are different." The dark Mordecai had pretty much hammered the nail on the head with that observation of his. Something was up and he knows it. He may not know what it is, but he knows somethings up.
"What do you mean that wasn't me?" Beatrid said suddenly, turning to look at him sharply, the grin fading and her eyes narrowing. "Who else would that be? And so what if I don't normally brag? I'm fucking allowed, aren't I? I just pulled off some crazy once-in-a-lifetime shit, of course I'm happy about it!" she snapped, swinging her legs around so her could sit up. Her entire body had gone tense and stiff.
"Kuro, would it really fucking kill you to admit, just for once, that I'm good? That I actually know what I'm doing, that I can fight just as well as any other bloody Dragoon? What about you, you pull off crazy ass shit all the time and everyone praises you for it, yet when I finally do something fucking awesome and am actually happy about it, suddenly I'm not being myself? What? Is Beatrid supposed to just always be there in the background as support, covering your ass while you do all the fancy stuff? Fuck that! It was a lucky shot but I did it! A little acknowledment couldn't hurt! Admitting I actually have some skill up my sleeve won't kill you, I promise!" And then she suddenly paused, eyes narrowing further.
"Oh I get it. You're just pissed that it wasn't you out there in the spotlight striking the badass final blow. Right. Great. Fuck off," she snarled, flopping back over on the sofa and turning her back to him.
Yeah. A bit of an overreaction? Maybe.
Inside, Beatrid was seething. Yet mixed in all that anger was also fear.
Was she seriously acting all that different? Was it that noticeable? Shit, shit, shit...no, just stay calm. She had to just...learn to cope with the damned drug. And being angry at him...hopefully that outburst would distract him and take his mind off his observation. After all, it was like her to be easily provoked and come back swinging with a barrage of colorful, hateful language. Maybe not that intensely, but...
Crap.
She was most angry because he was right, and she hadn't even noticed.
It's not like Kuro enjoyed pissing Beatrid off, but there was something he noticed and he needed to point it out. Her little outburst was a bit much. What was she defending though? A lucky shot? Killing someone in an underground tournament? Kuro does it all the time, but he never cherishes in any form of praise. It's not in his nature.
"You know, I really don't care about any praise or envy! I don't even care if you are better than me in any way! The only reason I'm still alive after all I've been through and why I can do what I do is because I'm not entirely human!" That time, Kuro raised his voice. He never has. Not even with his family. There it is. The one secret Kuro has that no one in the realm of Connlaoth know. After realizing what he had just said, Kuro slid down the wall and remained seated on the ground with his back still against the wall.
"What?" That got Beatrid to turn back around, twisting where she sat so she could look back over at Kuro, eyes still narrowed and mouth twisted in annoyance. Kuro was on the ground, back against the wall. Obviously he hadn't meant to say that.
Not entirely human?
Well...that wasn't that big of a deal. It wasn't like she'd never interacted with any non-humans before, and not all possessed magic; obviously he didn't if he was a Mordecai, and he most definitely was one! She could feel it. Still, she hadn't really expected it of him, because he looked as human as they came. Looked. But now suddenly his actions made more sense, like how the hell he could do some of the crazy shit he did, how he could recover so quickly from a wound. The weird stunts she couldn't explain, but the healing...eh, she'd just justified that by saying he must just have a good bloodline.
"...Huh. Well. Guess that makes some things make more sense," she said curtly, before she raised an eyebrow and shifted where she lay. "So what the fuck are you, anyway? And whatever you are, still doesn't mean I don't think you're a jackass most of the time. Just so we're clear."
When the 'What?' came from Beatrid, Kuro lowered his head before she twisted around to eye him. His view shifted to a spot on the ground next to himself as she questioned further.
"Don't worry about it." He noted almost under his breath, but loud enough for her to hear him. He wasn't ready to divulge himself to anyone. Not even Beatrid. Since changes have been effecting Kuro, mainly emotional, he has really been himself.
"I'm not," Beatrid replied with a small chuckle, stretching her arms over her head. "To be honest, I don't really give a shit. Human, non-human, it doesn't really change much. You're still you and you sure ain't no mage. Obviously," she said, staring up at the ceiling. "Can't be anything that bad, anyway. Now if you were a vampire or a demon or something, we might have a problem. I've never seen you drink blood or sprout horns, though, so whatever."
She very nearly growled the word "demon", as right now, no, they really weren't a species high in her esteems. Fucking Akabu.
Running a hand through her front bangs, she sighed and looked at Kuro again. "So how long until the next match?"
Kuro closed his eyes at the mention of the word, demon. He was very aware of the problems it may cause for him to leak any information of his race. Even more so now that Beatrid had mentioned it. He shook it all off when Beatrid decided to change the subject. At that moment, he returned his view back to his fellow Mordecai.
"They'll come and let us know when we have fifteen minutes before our next match. Given that we were the most recent victors, they're giving us some time to rest until round two starts up. It would be wise for us to heed to that. It only gets harder as we progress." Kuro explained in full detail. It was obvious that he has participated in similar tournaments before.
"Ahh, gotcha," Beatrid said, and got comfortable again. He sure wasn't the talkative sort, was he? "Well in that case, excuse me while I get a quick cat nap in. Doesn't seem like there's much else to do. Seriously, don't these people even serve refreshments or whatever?" she asked, arching an eyebow at him. You'd think they would since this kind of thing burned up a lot of energy, and she at least was only human. She kinds needed water or her body burned out.
"Speaking of...what's the pay-out for a tournament like this, anyway? I mean, considering the...risks and all..." She gave a little wince, and then quickly pushed the memory of what she'd done out of her head. "...There's gotta be a good incentive for this aside from just an ego boost."
[Sucky and short. Apologies!]
Kuro had lowered his head as Beatrid went on about their current situation. Though, when she brought up the idea about receiving some form of payment, those words fell on deaf ears. The dark Mordecai had already passed into a form of unconscious state. He was apparently more exhausted then he thought. Probably better off that he did fall asleep. Last thing he would need is an extended interrogation about his orgins or something of the matter.
Silence.
Beatrid waited, and waited, but it wasn't long before it because obvious that he wasn't going to answer. Eh? Had she not spoken loud enough? Blinking, she sat up and looked across the room at him--and then just stared.
Fucker was asleep.
After she'd asked him stuff. Important stuff. Because if there wasn't a damned incentive to keep on going, hell, she'd already seen enough. She didn't want to stick around here any longer than necessary and she was pretty sure this was illegal (but her natural competitive, curious, foolhardy side was more than willing to keep going if there was a reward...it could be evidence, of course). She'd also asked about refreshments, and she was bloody thirsty, she couldn't fight without replenishing herself. But more importantly...
No one fell asleep on her like that. That was fucking rude! He'd dragged her here to begin with! Okay, that was a lie, she'd gone on her own but...seriously, what the fucking hell?
Snarling under her breath, she rose to her feet, marched across the room, and hovered near his head--shortly before she pulled back her fist and punched him right in the skull. Hard. Though not hard enough to knock him out, she knew her own strength and the point was to wake him up.
"Hey asshole, I think I asked you a question. Questions. Wake the hell up."
Beatrid pulled back her fist and swung hard, only to find it caught in a tight grip. Kuro had caught her fist, even in his unconscious state. Not to mention how tight of a squeeze it was. The ninjaesque Mordecai slowly raised his head to glare at Beatrid with his one eye not covered by his two toned hair. Not even Beatrid has seen him glare at anything.
"Don't do that." He spoke in a monotone. It was apparent that he didn't like to be disturbed in his slumber, but it was more to the fact of how differently he could have reacted to Beatrid. What she didn't know was the even tighter grip he had on a hidden dagger behind his back. The pressure was almost enough to crush a diamond, because of how much restraint was forced into his muscles. Kuro was still a former assassin and that would never change. After a moment, he released his grasp on Beatrid and his dagger.
"Forgive me, I guess I didn't know how tired I was." He finally replied, actually sounding sincere for a change.
Beatrid met Kuro's glare with a cheerful smile, even though his grip made her want to wince. Felt like he was trying to crush the bones in her hand, but she was far too proud and stubborn let Kuro see that it hurt--mainly because he was the one hurting her. Hah, like she'd give him the satisfaction, so instead she just grinned. It was something she did pretty well and if she recalled correctly she'd even managed to smile after getting shot. Maybe she had a few screws loose in a sense, but...that was just how she liked to roll.
Plus it was kinda great seeing Kuro look all cranky. The guy was always so emotionless and dull so it was nice to finally get an actual reaction out of him, even if it would have been far more satisfying for the punch to have connected.
"Heh. Nice catch," Beatrid remarked casually and then, seeing as his other hand was currently behind his back, she used her free hand to cuff him good on the ear. "And you don't do that. Fall asleep on me when I'm talking to you. Ass. Didja even hear a word I said?"
"I thought you were here to investigate, not to collect payment and excitement from an underground tournament." Kuro noted after the rap to the ear. He followed his words by getting up and slowly moved to the door.
"Needless to say, our resting period has come to a quick end. As we speak, they approach with word..."
Knock! Knock!
Kuro's sentence was halted by a knock on the door, followed by a voice,
"You two have fifteen minutes before your next match. Be ready."
"It is time..." Kuro trailed off as he proceeded to open the door to leave the room.