Encore: Madison vs. Monica

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

I remember some things about a battle I once had in the Citadel. The arena was the haunted carnival that I based mine off of. The fight itself was against a cat girl. As far as furries go, I remember her being cute, if not a bit on the childish side. She had these gloves which could extend extremely cold, extremely sharp blades from the fingers--like a set of cat claws from hell. The fight itself, held near the ferris wheel, didn't last very long. I remember getting stabbed and dropkicked, then bitten in the throat as I drove one of my knives into her midsection.

The small piece of crumpled parchment in my hands brought on these dim recollections. Monica, the girl introduced herself as. Monica, the same name that was written on the challenge. As far as I could tell, it's not a fairly popular name. During the two weeks I knew about the match, I couldn't help but to wonder if it was the same girl I fought in the Citadel.

Not that I'd mind driving my daggers through her soft flesh again for what she did in Radasanth... Tearing out a chunk of my throat with her teeth as a last great act of defiance left a bitter taste in my mouth that remained even after I was declared the winner of that little throw down.

It was a rather dark day in my little carnival. A light drizzle was blanketing the place, forcing the ghosts underneath pavilion roofs and the canvas overhands that decorated the game and food stalls. I joined them, sitting at a dark picnic table under one of the tin roofs. The rain pinged against the roof lightly, as if dozens of people were softly drumming their fingers on it. I could make out individual drops as they slid down the side of the slanted roof onto the wet dirt below. Next to me, a ghost child whined to his mother, yanking on her blouse sleeve and wanting to go on another ride.

Getting ahead of myself, I began formulating a game plan. Unlike the normal procedure around here, I know who my opponent is, and I know her tactics and what she's capable of. I didn't know if she had any new tricks up her sleeves, but at least I had some new toys to play with her with. Twin damascus daggers were snug in their leather sheathes and strapped to my backside with a belt, while I had ditched the cumbersome device I used to keep my wire in and now kept the fifty feet of steel wire I purchased in the bazaar not too long ago wrapped around my arms. After a bit of practice, I found that I was able to command the two ends of the wire with no problem.

All I would have to do is somehow bind her hands tightly together so she couldn't slash at me with those claws, then I'd be free to kick her teeth in like the bitch deserved.

Of course, if it turned out that it wasn't the Monica I was thinking of, then I could be in trouble.

I lazily stared out into the carnival. The rain was starting to come down harder, causing the more stubborn spirits to seek shelter--not like they needed it, anyways. The pounding on the tin roof increased to the point where I couldn't hear the little boy next to me bitching anymore. Water began saturating the carnival, covering the ground in a fine layer of slick grass and mud.

I secretly wished that Monica would take her sweet time getting here. I didn't want to mess up my lovely dress in these conditions, and I was pretty sure that the cat girl had no interest licking herself clean after a mud fight.

[HikariAngel]

Madison. The name rang a sonorous note in the depths of the silver-haired girl’s mind. Madison. The scrawny, spindly, two-faced assassin who beat her soundly in the Corone Citadel. Madison. That one name on a wrinkled slip of paper was the only thing that brought the catgirl back to Scara Brae. The woman was someone now, a ranking hierarch in the equally famed Dajas Pagoda. It didn’t matter any more. The last match had been a fluke. Neither woman had been willing to admit defeat, so the match officially ended when both combatants- no, they were little more than brawlers at that time- gave up their last breaths.

Dark ears set atop an unusually stoic head only twitched lightly now; the city of Scara Brae was calm. Even having only been to the Pagoda once before, quick feet knew the roads and turns intrinsically. Purse hunting from a young age taught her how to remember directions in new cities. Only a pang of nostalgia found Monica’s memories. Back then, when she had fought against Asuka, she had been apprehensive; nervous. Now she was determined, and not even a steel wall would stand in her way.

Traditionally rosy eyes were stained scarlet as the world stood still around her. The houses and shops lining the streets of the small island nation slowly faded to grey as her mind recalled her nemesis. A rough tongue licked full lips that hid dangerously sharp teeth. Even one as civilized as her was subject to primal urges at times, and the meal she had taken from Madison’s still-writhing body had been succulent.

Perhaps Moni would come out and play this time. Standing in front of the large doors that separated the real world from the illusions that the monks created, a sly smile crossed her features. Yes, Moni would enjoy Madison’s company. Monica wouldn’t fight her other self like she had against Asuka; the Akashiman woman had shown far more respect than this bastard bitch.

“Ah, Monica we’ve been-”

“Madison.” Though generally not one to be rude, the catgirl was in a bit of a hurry at the moment and had no time to listen to inane prattle about the rules and such.

Not even a reaction. The monk simply nodded in understanding and walked at a faster pace than usual to a door similar to the one she had entered her first time ever in this place. The swirling vortex of pitch and light was no longer intimidating. It was a challenge. Flexing her claws, a quintet of blades slid out then back into the fingertips of her gloves. She punched her left fist before walking into the portal, savoring the tingle that came from it.

Perhaps she should have been expecting it; after all, fate was known to have a terrible sense of irony. Pale ghosts walked sparingly in the ethereal rain of the black-and-white carnival. Immediately upon sensing her entrance, the ghosts gave Monica a wider birth than usual. Smirking slightly, Monica commanded the arcane force within her body to begin its magic. Within a few seconds, the rain falling near her clattered on the stone midway as all the warmth left the droplets. She wasn’t going to play around this time.

No longer did she wear the pristine white dress of her innocence. Sturdy boots crunched across ice and rock toward the place where most of the ghosts were gathering. Water rolled off an oiled dark leather jacket before crystallizing and flaking off as her hands took turns cracking the other's knuckles. The rain picked up, only serving to deepen the catgirl’s scowl. As much as she hated the rain, her anger against Madison trumped it with an ace.

“I know you’re in here somewhere!” So maybe she couldn’t mimic the voice of Hell’s crypt keeper, but the acid was there. She was going to make that spindly girl pay. Not only was her favorite dress ruined, but her pride had taken a considerable blow as well.

And that was unforgivable.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

Despite the downpour, I could still hear the telltale sounds of the monks' portal dropping off my feline opponent into the dreary carnival. I slowly rose from the table I was sitting at, my mind still focused on how I was going to tear Monica limb from fuzzy limb. Behind me, my fingers danced along the smooth leather hilt of one of my daggers. Soon, my children, I promised them with a face as cold and heartless as the damascus they were made from. I made my way towards the edge of the covered pavilion to get a better view of the midway.

The path was clear of all ghosts--unaware of their situation, they all huddled underneath anything that would protect them from the downpour, as if they could've really caught colds. Stall carnies leaned lazily against counters and walls, glaring at the sky and wishing for the rain to stop so they could continue suckering everyone into their games and overpriced food. All of the rides were now at a standstill. The carnival was as dead as the people that inhabited it.

A bolt of lighting screamed through the sky, bringing with it a wave of thunder that seemingly shook the place. I sucked on my teeth in annoyance--these were no conditions to fight in. The rain was quickly turning the midway into one giant mud pit. I'd have to find someplace safe and dry to fight if I was going to win.

Across the way sat a well-kept shack. It was one story tall, and about as big as most houses you'd see occasionally along the main roads of Corone. The building had no windows, and there was a sign over the open doorway that read Carlington's House of Mirrors. Something clicked in the back of my mind; something that told me that this would be a great place to kick Monica's ass.

I stepped out from underneath the pavilion roof just after I heard the cat girl scream something... The rainstorm had drowned out her words, making them unintelligible. Looking down the midway, I could see her lone, lithe figure slowly making her way towards me. Her pale fur was matted down and saturated with rain and ice. Wait, ice? Oh, that's right--I nearly forgot about Monica's magical abilities. A cloud of dense mist surrounded my opponent as rain drops froze in mid-flight and clinked against one another as they hit the ground.

A weak, condescending smile crossed my face as the girl in the leather jacket drew closer to me. I could barely make out the scowl on her face. Monica was going to let her emotions cloud her judgment; I could almost taste the fury that was rolling off of her. This was going to be all too easy.

Turning away, I made my way inside the house of mirrors. I was instantly greeted by several reflections of myself. My dress was saturated with water, my damp raven-black locks clumping across my forehead. Do I always look this frightening, I asked myself as I slicked my wet hair back behind my ears and out of my face. Cold water cascaded down the back of my neck, causing a small chill to go down my spine.

The attraction was set up in an odd fashion. Each of the four walls were lined with mirrors. The room itself was randomly divided by partitions that consisted of--what else--more mirrors that reached from the floor to the ceiling. The whole thing looked more like an overblown avant-garde art project than something that belonged in a carnival. How could anyone find enjoyment in such a place? I slowly moved around the room, bobbing and weaving between the mirrors to get a feel for it, nearly smacking into my reflection a few times in the process.

I made my way back towards the doorway, standing off to the side. There was no point in trying to ambush Monica--the random placing of the mirrors guaranteed that she'd be able to spot me as soon as she stepped foot into the building. Slowly, I removed both of my daggers from their sheathes and prepared for another fight with the cat girl. I positioned myself at an angle where one of my reflections faced the doorway. I wouldn't have the element of surprise, but perhaps I'd luck out and at least distract her long enough where I could go for a quick kill.

[HikariAngel]

To say Monica was ticked would be like saying ice was cold or Madison was going to die. That is not to say she was stupid, but she was more than willing to let her less-attractive side show for a while. Grey lips pulled back to reveal dozens of teeth that longed for another taste of her opponent’s flesh. All she had to do was actually find her.

Fortunately for her, Madison was more than willing to comply. The casual air she exuded rubbed the catgirl just the wrong way, and she figured it had to be intentional. Stomping after her target, the catgirl didn’t realize where exactly they were heading until she was literally staring herself in the face. Well, if you can call staring at a mirror nestled in with a plethora of other mirrors staring at yourself. She skidded to a stop so fast she barely managed to avoid falling on her face into the mud.

No… she didn’t just… there’s no way… I…

Having a little trouble, my pretty little Monica?

She jumped slightly at the second voice echoing around inside her skull, but only because she hadn’t expected Moni to wake up so quickly. If only…

Oh, what a shame. It seems that house is bringing back some bad memories for vengeful little pussie girl.

I…

Got lost in there and went feral, right? How could I forget my birthplace?

Yes, that was exactly why she hated mirror houses. Trapped for hours while regressing to nothing more than a feral cat… and the formation of another layer of personality to shelter her mind from the insanity of the mirrors. The experience terrified her, mentally scarred her; she never wanted to go through anything like that again.

But I can fight in there. I’d practically be fighting in my home court, you know. Besides…

I need you for this.

It was something she never wanted to say, but after what Madison put her through, the feline was willing to release her inhibitions and give control to Moni for just a few minutes.

That’s a good girl. Now just go to sleep and big sister will take care of everything for you.

Monica’s eyes felt heavy. Her body swayed as her legs slowly gave way to sleep. Physical sensations faded one by one. For the first time in many, many years, Monica released full control of her body. Before the unconscious catgirl’s shell fell to the ground, something changed. Her muscles went stiff and froze in place, arresting her safely above the muddy midway. The frost building around her stopped and her eyes snapped open. They would have been golden outside this ghastly carnival, but in this strange world they were simply a very light grey.

“Tch. So wasteful. I don’t see how she managed to last this long burning through her energy so fast. Oh well. Madison, was it? Heh. Looks like I’m going to be having a bit of fun with this one.”

Moni’s smile turned twisted when she extended her right hand and allowed the rain drops to build up a pillar of ice. She wasn’t going to waste so much energy just because she was upset. Just a coin-sized localization of her body’s natural frigid magic was all she required.

“So, you must be Madison.” Moni said with an audible grin directed into the house loud enough to be heard. “You must have done something really bad for Monica to get this angry. You know, normally I have to wrestle with her for control of this wonderful body; she just mentioned you and gave me control this time. I’m impressed; under other circumstances, I think I’d like you.”

With a heave, the catgirl removed the eight-inch icicle from her gloved palm and chucked it at the mirror directly in front of her. The countless reflections of her opponent meant that she wasn’t hidden deep within the maze, so that meant she was still near the entrance. That meant there was only one thing to do… play a little game of cat and mouse. With the facing mirror broken into countless shards, she knew exactly how far she was away from the particleboard wall that backed it. She knew how soon she had to turn after charging headlong through the door like a maniac, which was the only way to enter the house unless there was a secret back door.

So she did.

Unless Madison was quick enough to react to a sixty-mile-per-hour sprint, which Moni figured she wasn’t, the catgirl would dash safely into the house and only put on the brakes when she was a few feet past the door then turn right at the intersection. Inwardly, she patted Monica on the back. Her body was much faster than the last time she used it. It was a wonderful feeling of speed until she ran straight into an angled mirror that just didn’t reflect what she was expecting. Well, straight wasn’t exactly right, but she did glance off it and somehow managed to twist her way around a U-turn. Spinning to face where she just came from (just in case Madison had been stupid enough to follow her), she shifted her weight to her left foot and rotated slightly to her left. Why she was right-handed while Monica was a lefty was beyond her comprehension, but it never mattered.

And seriously, what kind of idiot planner made circular routes in a house of mirrors?