Dementia Begins: Monica vs Travis

[HikariAngel]

Swirls of color swayed around the crossed legs of the Pagoda Warrior. She hadn’t really asked for the job. She hadn’t asked for it at all. Sure it had sounded interesting at the time, but fighting wasn’t what Monica liked best. A pair of adamantine shackles might as well have been clasped around her limbs for how firmly she was tied to Scara Brae now. Holding a hand up to the ceiling of her crazed arena, she saw nothing but the creamy skin she always saw. They were only shackles in a figurative sense.

“Mistress Monica, might I have a modicum of your moment?”

A man clad in earth-toned robes meandered over to the woman’s seated form. It was the only way to describe his path to her, even though he knew exactly where she was. In his hand was a very proper parchment scroll outlining the name and general nature of her very first challenger: Travis Kiltias. Not much else worth noting leapt out of the parchment at her, so she handed it back to the Ai’Bron monk and stood up. So this was the life that Asuka and Madison lived. Not as glamorous as she thought it was going to be. Maybe taking her rival’s place in the hierarchy wasn’t such a good idea after all.

“Thank you, show him in.” She spoke, hardly aware of her own words. “And so it begins… the life of a Dajas Pagoda Warrior.”

~*~

To say it was the conjuration of a deranged mind, you would need to make two assumptions: the first of which is the idea that Monica’s mind was deranged and the second being that she actually put a significant amount of thought in her choice of fighting arena. Neither would be accurate in her case. She just didn’t think the same way “normal” people thought she should… many times she didn’t think at all before doing something.

This was one of those times, and very clearly so.

The field was rather simple for a change if you discounted the catgirl’s unique eccentricities. Standing on the floor, grass spread from a swirling black vortex—the entrance to the arena—in colors that it had no business being. Green worked its way into the kaleidoscopic palette here and there, but for the most part, pinks, yellows, and other random flavors of neon blades cast an omnipresent light on an otherwise dim space.

Yes, the grass is glowing, but it’s not trying to kill you.

What filled that requirement was the multitude of floating landmasses. Half of them looked as though they were uprooted straight from the psychedelic groundcover, the other half were strangely upside-down. Every one was moving straight up or down, drifting lazily as though they had nothing better to do. Despite the multicolored grass, the dirt was quite normal and brown. Perhaps she hadn’t thought that deep about the strangeness of the arena.

Looking up, another unique sight would quickly come into view and solve the riddle of where the overhead glow was coming from. Nearly identical to the ground below, the ceiling three-stories up was coated again with the same grass to provide a second source of light. The strangest thing, however, was the fact that a girl with silver hair was standing on the ceiling as though it was no big deal. She walked quickly over to one of the floating clods and jumped atop it, crossing her legs and sitting down as it began its descent to the floor.

She drifted slowly down, past a tree in the very center between the top and bottom halves that seemed to be growing in every direction at once, up and down as well as out to the sides. She sat there until her head was about ten feet from the ground, at which point she stood up and walked to the edge of the clod and stepped off it, still upside-down. She might as well have had magnets on her feet for how she pivoted on her stationary foot and stepped back onto the “bottom” of the clot. She was now right-side-up and oriented directly at the new challenger.

Looking around, the catgirl’s silver hair glistened from the luminous grass. Her large ears twitched back and forth as she smiled innocently. “Isn’t this fun? Whatever your feet are touching is ‘down’. I can’t believe nobody ever thought of this before now.”

She smiled, lips parting only slightly to reveal a glimpse of her very sharp teeth. She had been looking forward to this moment since she first lost to Asuka in her very first fight in this very same Pagoda. Well, the arena was quite different, but the thought was still there. Rose eyes never left the man’s form; she wasn’t quite staring, she was preparing.

“Travis Kiltias? I guess you’re my first opponent then. I hope you have as much fun as I will.”

[A Nony Mouse]

Eyes wide, Travis watched as the Dajas Pagoda Warrior walked across the ceiling of the arena as if nothing was amiss. She stepped delicately onto a moving chunk of earth and descended to where he waited. “I hope you have as much fun as I will,” she purred as she turned right-side up to face him. The red-haired fighter was still confused by the psychedelic battlefield, but knew he had no time to waste.

He’d challenged a Warrior, hoping to win a spot in the Dajas Pagoda Hierarchy. Now he wasn’t so sure. Spirals of neon-colored grass twisted outward from the arena’s entrance and clods of dirt drifted lazily in the air. He jumped experimentally, half expecting the world to have some kind of strange gravity. When nothing happened, he shook his head. Focus, he told himself.

As Monica walked toward him, he drew his dehlar short sword. Until he could get used to the arena’s nuances, he didn’t want to risk fighting with the pole. Besides that, he had no idea how this Warrior fought.

Just as he was beginning to regret his decision to challenge her, Monica’s lips parted in a smile. Her intent was uncertain, but the result was unsettling all the same. His green eyes focused on her sharp teeth and he swallowed any trepidation welling up inside him.

“And so it begins,” he whispered as he took up a fighting stance, ready for the Warrior’s first move.

[HikariAngel]

The catgirl sighed and her tail drooped when the large man didn’t even bother saying anything directly to her. She wasn’t a cold-blooded killer or maniac like some of her opponents had been; she was simply a catgirl with an eye for adventure and an ear for anything that wasn’t her business. Travis probably thought she was little more than an animal—a freak whose only interest could lie in fighting.

Well, it was half true. She was interested in fighting, but only because of all the different sorts of people she could find herself pitted against. But… if they were all going to be as introverted and quiet as this one? She sighed and shook her head lightly, refusing still to let her eyes wander along the pretty colors. There were so many of them! That little swirl of purple there looked like a face, too!

That was about when the man’s lips moved and her ears swiveled to pick up what he said. The whisper sounded like something she had heard a rather epic man say before beginning a truly wonderful fight, but that was after he had systematically taken care of all his archrival’s henchmen and was already half dead. She had never understood that scene. If it was practically done, why would it just begin?

No! Focus! Monica yelled at herself internally and a rather black form deep in the recesses of her mind stirred. Eh… oops. Don’t want to wake her up. That would be a bad thing. The feeling of dread subsided before she even realized she was feeling it. Slapping her gloved palms against her cheeks twice, the catgirl brought her attention back to the imminent battle. Perhaps he would think she was using a stalling tactic?

A chunk of the ceiling struck the floor slightly to her right, sending a slight tremor through the arena floor. A small puff of wind from the impact stirred the grass, and Monica realized that she had never fought against someone using a sword before. He held it like he knew what he was doing, too.

Tugging at the back of her gloves, the silver-haired catgirl re-tightened the straps that kept the armor protecting her forearms safe. She could easily need to actually use that armor for once against this guy.

“Well, since you seem to insist I start, let’s go!”

The light from the grass dulled slightly around Monica’s feet as a sudden chill radiated out from her body. There was no need to pull any punches if this guy was as serious as he acted. She couldn’t show off all her tricks, though. So she compromised.

His sword was in his right hand, typical given almost everyone she fought was right-handed. Her body moved of its own accord, one step after another as she ran an arc toward Travis’ unguarded left side. Still out of the range of his blade, or what she assumed was his range, she leapt into the air. High into the air. About twice as high as she should have, if someone was to guess. Her right arm was held defensively, ready to intercept a blade while her left palm reached for his head as she passed. There was easily a foot of clearance between her stomach and his head as she sailed by.

It would really hurt if she managed to grab a handful of his hair.

[A Nony Mouse]

The cat girl racing toward Travis moved incredibly fast. His green eyes followed her as she raced toward him and leapt high into the air. Her sleek form arched gracefully, her body twisting until she was nearly parallel to the ground. Reaching down at the last second, she grasped a handful of her challenger’s hair and yanked as she flew by.

Caught off guard, Travis had little time to react as star exploded in his eyes. His scalp felt like a thousand tiny knives were sawing it off and the force of the pull sent him tumbling. He yelled with the pain of it and tears welled up in his eyes as an automatic reaction. As the Warrior’s feet touched the ground, the green-eyed traveler found himself on his back in the psychedelic patterns of the bizarre grasses.

Luckily for him, the girl’s momentum carried her past where he lay and gave him a few moments to get to his feet. Wiping the back of his hand across his eyes, Travis stood and turned to face the cat girl once more. “Why?” he asked angrily. If she was going to fight dirty, he’d have to adjust.

Without waiting for her to respond, the fighter acted. In a burst of speed, he raced to close the distance between them as a small dirt clod descended toward the battlefield. Gauging its movement, he somersaulted into the air with his sword raised high over his head. His soft leather boots twisted above his head as he cartwheeled in the air before touching the clod’s surface. Gravity instantly flipped, threatening to throw off his balance, but he maintained his footing. The clod slowed its descent, moving to a stop before it would rise once again into the air.

His eyes were about the same level as the Warrior’s, only he was upside down. Slashing down with his dehlar blade, the adventurer hoped to slice into his adversary’s belly. Since they stood on different surfaces, the sharp edge was aimed up into her chest cavity inside of down on her head. She thinks up the battlefield, he reasoned, so she deals with the consequences.

[HikariAngel]

It was a mixed sensation, feeling her first “strike” as a ranking pagoda hierarch connect so cleanly. For some reason, it just felt different from all the brawls she had gotten into back home. A punch then was life or death; this was… sport? No, sport wasn’t the right way of putting it. Not a game, but more of a test. She was seeing how ready these new adventurers were to take on the rest of the massive world.

Apparently this one was still a little green around the edges. The rambunctious catgirl took him flailing all the way to the psychedelic ground, dragging him by a handful of hair. While normally painful, the fact that her fingers—and indeed the rest of her body—were cold enough to freeze water only compounded the sensation. A touch before Monica hit the ground, she released Travis’ hair and tucked herself into a ball, hitting the ground and rolling with the momentum of her jump.

Springing out of the roll brought her up vulnerably, but a quick look over her shoulder showed her opponent in a similar position. He was quick to recover, though, and charged straight at her even as she turned around. He jumped. She stepped back. He latched onto the underside of one of the floating clods and swung.

Even if it was expected, there’s still something disorienting about seeing someone standing upside-down. Especially when she had done the exact same thing. More so when they’re actually using it to attack. The blade whizzed up quick and clean past her relatively small chest as she leaned easily back away from the blade.

Well, it was bound to happen sometime. Most of the nearby chunks of land were too high to jump to, but there was one she could reach. Her lean back turned into a backward hand-spring that then morphed into a light jog over twenty feet before leaping clean on top of an upside-down clod. Her legs worked like springs coiled too tight, carrying her from one floating island to the next as she worked her way back to her opponent’s last position. She made no real intent to hide from him, but she was about ten feet higher than he was and there was one obstacle between the two of them.

Monica flexed her right fingers, unsheathing her natural claws and watching as a six-inch blade sprouted from each finger of her glove. Now wasn’t the time for that, even though he had drawn his own blade at her. But… no, she hadn’t ever used that. It might even work. Probably. Maybe. Most likely not, but why not try anyway?

The catgirl pressed her hands together and jumped down to the next-nearest piece of floating dirt, from the side of the island to the near side of the new platform. When she pulled her hands apart, three icicles grew between her palms. It still took a little getting used to the fact that “down” was relative, but strange things often made sense in her mind for the fact that they were strange. Two steps brought her to the luminous grass on top; the pattern here was a simple wave of red and deeper red.

She hesitated as she really looked around for the first time since entering the arena. It was amazing and incredible at the same time, but neither word fully encompassed the awe she felt. A vast field of land, torn asunder by the machinations of minds that were either wilder than her own or simply bored. Her own transport was about level with Travis' now, so she brought her mind back to the game at hand and whipped her left hand forward.

It wasn’t a “girl throw”, but it sort of was. It got to its target, barely, but she never intended it as an actual attack. She just needed a few distractions. When the shards were halfway to their target, she leapt off her platform with such force that her legs actually sent it careening away and into the other floating masses to start an impromptu game of pong all behind her. The catgirl, on the other hand, was headed straight for her opponent’s right leg. If she could grab hold there, she could possibly drag him off his platform and knock him to the floor… or ceiling, whichever was closer.

Besides, it wasn’t fighting dirty until she hit him there, and she had no intentions of doing that.

[A Nony Mouse]

She jumped from one floating landmass to another, weaving her way through the field of rising and falling clods. Travis marked her progress warily, wondering what she had in mind. With a giant leap, Monica soared down toward where his dirt clod drifted and unleash icy projectiles. His short sword’s keen edge sliced through the first one, sending it tumbling through the air to his left. The other two chunks of ice barely even hit the ground of the platform he rode.

However, batting aside the ice had taken his focus away from the Dajas Pagoda Warrior. His head snapped up as he heard a collision far above him. The cat girl had leapt off her perch and was soaring through the air toward him. The force of her jump had sent her dirt clod careening into another one and the chain reaction quickly grew in proportion.

Monica plummeted toward Travis, arms extended toward him and a slight smile on her face. The red-haired warrior wasn’t going to let himself be caught unawares a second time though. He judged her speed and stepped backward as she came nearer; her hands began closing around his leg as he acted. He leapt high and tucked into a flip, his short sword arching down toward her exposed back. A small puff of dust billowed in the air as she hit the ground, missing her target by mere inches. As Travis flipped, the multi-colored grass on both the ceiling on the floor flew by in his sight. He extended his feet as he landed, hoping the bizarre arena hadn’t disoriented him too much.

The adventurer didn’t know if his sword had hit his enemy as he flipped over her, but he wasn’t about to turn and find out. Crouching low, he leapt across the distance between his floating clod and the next closest one. His feet hit the dirt just as the result on Monica’s chain reaction hit it. The impact sent him to the ground and made the floating platform spiral out of control. As the stadium flew by, Travis couldn’t keep track of what was up or down or… he fought the nausea welling up inside him and gripped desperately onto the dirt clod.

I hate this arena, he swore as the platform finally began to slow its insane trip. He rose shakily to his feet and glanced around the field of floating chunks of dirt. “Where is she?” he whispered as he took up a defensive stance.

[HikariAngel]

If nothing else, her quick plan had worked out the way she wanted it to. Mostly. Almost. It could have easily gone much better than it did. All Travis had to do was just stand still and everything would have been right in the world. Everything would have been good and she would have been done fighting for the day. Well, maybe not the rest of the day, but at least for a couple hours. That’s not what happened, of course. What happened was exactly what she was hoping wouldn’t: he moved.

He jumped up, as if there was really any other direction to jump, and swung down. It was more of a slash aimed to slide along her back, so that’s exactly what it did. There was nothing the catgirl could do but put her right elbow out to hit the ground first and spin her slightly so his slash would avoid her particularly sensitive tail. The strike arced through the air and drew a dark line down her back and the leather tank top that protected her from things like that.

To add insult to injury, she hit the neon-grass-covered island with enough force to bounce and continue on, careening into one of the fallout-stricken islands from her leap. The strike was akin to jumping straight into the ground and landing on her chest. Again. That was one thing her leather shirt didn’t protect her from. The sensation of her entire weight pressing her small breasts into the fluorescent grass was unpleasant and more than a little painful. When she finally stood up, she rubbed her aching breasts to send a numbing bit of cold through the sensitive nerve endings. It was the best therapy she had, even if it was uncomfortable, so it was better than nothing.

Is the little kitty having trouble?

And that was what she was hoping to avoid. Her other self, the personality known as “Moni”. Singularly unpleasant, mean, and generally not one to care about anything.

I can handle this, Moni. I don’t need your help with my first fight.

Don’t worry scaredy-cat. I’m not going to take over yet… I’m still tired. I was just going to suggest you let him come to you. He’s wearing you out, and you’re falling for it.

The silver-haired catgirl grimaced at the revelation, but the voice inside her skull was right. She had been too eager to prove her worth and she was paying for her haste now. Taking deep, calming breaths, she cleared her mind of all the things she was expected to do as a warrior. It was a simple matter to jump down to the ceiling when the flat of her ride struck the ground with a small tremor, and from flat ground once more she gazed into the labyrinth of prismatic islands. She could wait all day if she had to.

“Travis! I’m not falling for it any more!”

She didn’t know where he was, but that didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to move from that spot until she heard him and her ears were twitching at every noise that wasn’t a crash of dirt and dirt. Casual, relaxed, and finally patient for the first time in her life. She was ready for him—as ready as she was ever going to be.

[A Nony Mouse]

“Travis! I’m not falling for it any more!” his opponent’s voice echoed across the arena. She had to be somewhere in the floating field of dirt clods, but Travis couldn’t pinpoint where her voice was coming from. Patiently, he scanned the arena above him, waiting for a glimpse of the warrior.

The platform he stood on slowly drifted away from the floor of the battleground and up into the maze of dirt clods. The chain reaction of collisions that Monica had started had almost died down, the sound of the chunks of earth colliding was heard less and less as time went on. As his ride neared another platform, he jumped across the gap between them as silently as he could.

His scalp still stung from where she had yanked his hair, but the pain faded away as he honed his senses to pinpoint his adversary’s location. His breathing slowed and the world seemed to crawl to a standstill. He trained his ears toward the ceiling above him, trying to get any clue as to where the cat girl was hiding.

Crouching low as his chunk of dirt spun slowly in the air, the red-haired adventurer readied himself to leap onto a passing clod. When it was close enough, he pushed off with all his strength, barely making it to the next platform. He hit the ground and immediately tucked into a roll that carried him some distance before stopping. Sure that his enemy had heard him, he formulated a plan.

Unless Monica was on another floating clod, she had to be standing on the ceiling just below his position. She would be expecting him to drop and attack after hearing him land above her. Hoisting his sword, Travis decided to give himself an advantage. As the land beneath him began turning to face the warrior, he tossed the short sword onto the next platform. The loud clang as the dehlar blade struck the dirt provided him with some cover as he rolled off the clod and dropped to the ceiling.

Swinging his cypress pole off his back, Travis saw his target not too far away. She stood with her back toward him, facing in the direction of his distraction. Running lightly so as not to alert her to his presence, he closed the distance between them quickly. Planting his left foot, the red-haired fighter swung the pole toward the center of her back with full force. Unless she had heard him coming and was prepared, the blow would catch her off guard.

[HikariAngel]

There was a noise of someone moving about from one island to the next, of her opponent straining to make it to the next piece of the ceiling or floor that would take him closer to his target. His footsteps were getting gradually closer until he stopped moving. He was close, and the nervous bead of sweat running down Monica’s chin is evidence to what she’s feeling right now.

There was a clang of metal striking ground, and instantly Monica jumped into motion. Just standing around waiting wasn’t her style. There was a glint of metal up ahead where the noise came from. Travis’ sword… but he wasn’t there. With her own footsteps stopped, she heard a second set coming up behind her. He wasn’t running full speed, but he was still fairly quick. The catgirl only had enough time to turn her head and glance out the corner of her eye before she felt something long and hard plow right into her ribs.

Perhaps it was fortune, maybe a chance of luck, but the pole somehow managed to not strike any of her ribs directly. It hit between two of them, but thanks (or no thanks) to the catgirl’s frail constitution, the attack still managed to break both ribs it hit. Her eyes went wide. Her body went limp. The force of the staff sent her rolling across the ground for a few feet.

Yet she didn’t scream in pain. A slight whimper escaped her lips as she pushed through the agony burning through her right side. The wave of endorphins flossing down her spine would only give her another two minutes or so to fight without pain; she had to make the best of it. Pushing up to her hands and knees was a little difficult—even if she couldn’t feel the pain more than a slight throbbing, her body refused to put more pressure on the bones and nerves there than necessary.

Her right elbow gave out for a moment, sending a sharp pain through her right side. Fast. She made it to her knees. Have to be fast. She made it to her feet. Faster. She flexed her claws. Finish this faster! Ten blades extended, one from each fingertip and six-inches long each. Finish this now! She bent her knees. Her body leaned forward. All the stops were gone now; she charged Travis headlong with every last bit of speed she could pour into her legs. She had outrun a pack of wolves once in Salvar. She had outrun cheetahs back home. This was everything her speed was, amped up by raw adrenaline and endorphins.

She closed the small distance to the pole-wielding man faster than any human could have run, more than twice as fast as a well-trained athlete. Her head was low and her arms angled back, claw-blades splayed wide. Her left hand moved almost of its own accord forward, her fingers closed to a straight-hand thrusting position. Straight ahead. There is no turning back. A leap… and a lunge. Just to the right of the collar bone, and a few inches down. Show him a frozen heart break.

[A Nony Mouse]

She moved toward him at an impossible speed. She was so fast that Travis barely had time to react as she lunged toward him with her claws extended.

Block.

The pole whipped past his face, smacking her gauntleted hand and sending the claws grazing by his bicep instead. As her attack brought her near him, he saw the steely glint of determination in her eye. The cat was done playing with her food.

Her hand whipped forwards again, his chest as its target. The icy claws practically sang as they carved through the air toward him. Taking a step back and planting his foot, the red-haired warrior swung the pole around again to intercept them.

Block.

With two hands, he thrust the pole straight in front of him. The steel claws bit into the wood, but the polearm held strong. Monica yanked them back, her teeth gritted as she continued to battle. She held her right hand back in a defensive position and Travis assumed he had injured her with his strike. He could use that to his advantage.

She kicked out; hoping to catch him off-guard and he took the hit in his left hip. The impact sent him staggering back a few steps and the cat lunged toward him again.

Parry.

The butt of the pole slammed into her palm, diverting the attack once again. His chest heaving, he went on the offensive. Pivoting his center of balance, Travis swung the opposite end of the pole as hard as he could toward her weak right side. This was his moment. Time slowed for him as his mind focused on the attack. The pole seemed to move incredibly slowly and he willed it to move faster.

But she was faster still.

Catching the pole in her right hand, Monica sunk all ten claws into the cypress wood. Pulling back with the momentum of his swing, she forced him down on a knee and ripped the pole from his grasp.

I don’t want to die, that was the first thought on Travis’ mind. Somewhere within him he knew that the monks would piece him back together, but still the thought was there. I don’t want to die, he couldn’t react, couldn’t even move as Monica readied her final blow.

I don’t want to die…

((Bunnying approved both ways))

[HikariAngel]

It wasn’t pretty, but war seldom is. The painkillers from her brain were running out now. Already pain like a dozen knife blades was stabbing at her side… she did not want to know what the full effect of the pain would be if it was this bad already. Gritting her teeth in determination, there was only one thing to do… and she wasn’t looking forward to it. She was going for the kill.

The battle changed from that point, and both Travis and Monica knew it in an instant, and about the same time. Attack, attack, attack. Block, block, parry. The lithe catgirl used every asset she had at her disposal and the red-haired challenger did his best to keep up. It was a war against the clock, not Travis, which the Warrior fought. Against him she was winning, if barely. Time, however, is an opponent no man or woman can defeat.

There!

An opening. A hasty counter. A desperate strike. It didn’t matter what it was. He knew she was wounded; he knew where. He didn’t know how badly, but neither did she. Both agreed that the first mistake would decide the fight. It just happened that the tall man’s hand was forced. His swing was too wide; he wanted to end the onslaught too fervently.

He just plain messed up and she wasn’t going to bear with the onslaught of invisible lances one moment longer than she had to. With a grimace that belied none of the pain she was feeling, quick hands clamped down on the staff and she pulled. Something shifted in her side. Travis stepped forward unwillingly; shock and denial mixed with something the Nekojin had almost forgotten the look of: fear. Abject terror. He knew what was going to happen, and it horrified him. How could she blame the man? Death wasn’t easy to go through… even if it was temporary.

Silent pleas fell against deaf ears. Her lips moved, but nothing emerged save for a quiet, warm wind. Red locks tangled with pale flesh—her hand. The sturdy wooden pole fell, forgotten, to the glowing grass. Tears obscured her vision, but she didn’t need to see to know what to do next. His head moved unwillingly closer. A splash of red drizzle cast a strange shadow on the pair locked in their lethal embrace.

[A Nony Mouse]

Silence.

That was the first thing Travis noticed as he opened his eyes on the cool stone slab beside the Ai'Bron monks. The diminutive man standing beside him said nothing as the red-haired warrior pushed himself up on an elbow and looked around.

The last thing he remembered was the icy cold feel of Monica's claws as they sank into his flesh. His warm blood pumping against he cold hands had caused the wound to steam and then he had fallen into darkness.

He assumed that the Warrior had survived, though he was sure her injuries needed tending to as well.

Swinging his legs around to the side of the table, he tenderly lowered himself to the ground and tested his movement. Everything seemed in order and he nodded to the monk before making his way out the door.

Once back in the main section of the Pagoda, Travis knew that all he could do was wait. This was a major juncture in his life; if he won he would have to stay here and take on all challengers. Unsure whether that life would suit him well or not, he took a seat near the entrance to wait for his judgment.

[HikariAngel]

It was… warm. Blood flowing freely from Travis’ carotid artery gushed intermittently from the quartet of slightly frosted wounds in the front of his neck. It was a clean pierce by no stretch of the imagination. Watery red liquid painted the catgirl’s top crimson even as she pulled his head close to her bosom, sparkling saltwater failing to fall from her eyes yet freezing on her cheeks. She cringed as even such a small motion caused the wound in her right side to flare to life with all the grandeur and grace of a minotaur in a potion shop. More tears flowed and small crystals of ice flaked from her cheeks.

Was she not supposed to cry over the pointless death she had caused? Was this what Madison felt every time she killed someone in these hallowed halls? What about Asuka? No, they were probably used to this sort of thing. There was a time buried somewhere in her memories, sealed away by her own will, where she had been like them. The frigid magic running through her veins stalled the stinging sensation around her ribs when she placed her frosty hand lightly against the wound. She would never enjoy killing again.

Brown boots brushed briskly across the grass as four familiar faces found the fighter and her fallen foe. She knew them by sight only; her “proprietor” was oddly missing from the recovery team. Three of them took hold of Travis and stepped out of the arena as though it was only natural to vanish without explanation.

“You can… bring him back… right?”

Pain and uncertainty made her words hesitant. She knew the skill of the monks firsthand, but it just felt right to ask.

“We will bring him back. But I must tend to your wounds before you start worrying about your fallen challenger. If you would follow me, Monica…”

A white vortex appeared, casting strange shadows all around the freakish landscape. Looking over her shoulder before walking through, a hint of green caught her eye on one of the branches of her “world tree”. A small leaf she hadn’t seen before. She smiled and embraced the gentle radiance of the new portal. As she traveled through whatever space and time separated that world from Althanas, she closed her eyes and forgot about all of her pains and worries. Just drifting through the cosmos… she quickly fell asleep and didn’t even realize that there was no more pain to keep her awake.

“Nyaaaaaaaaaaaaaan~”

A sharp fang bared at nothing in particular was the second sign that she was awake. The first sign was, obviously, the grand yawn she gave upon waking. Sitting up in the pleasantly warm recovery room, she looked around and twitched her ears back and forth. She could hear some hushed murmuring, but couldn’t make anything out.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Came a gentle woman’s voice from somewhere to her right. “I wish I could tell you to rest easy for a few days, but you’re fit enough for your next battle. It’ll be starting later, so it would be best to get ready. Good luck, Monica.”

Another fight already. Monica sighed quietly and hopped off the bed. After fetching her clothes—the blood stains were gone already—she quickly changed into her comfortable attire and pushed open the thin wooden door. The hallway she was in now was already far too familiar, and there was no doubt she’d be seeing it many more times to come.

[Bloodrose]

Monica/Travis

~Continuity 6/4 ~ I think I've mentioned to Travis before about tying the character into the thread. This was another situation where I have no idea what Travis was doing before he arrived at the Pagoda, or even why he's at the Pagoda. It's kind of like Travis sort of *poofed* himself there and challenged a Warrior for the heck of it without any reason why. Monica did better, alluding to why she is a Warrior and how she got there. Use of past battles and talking/thinking about other characters helped to tie this battle into a larger story for Monica.

~Setting 6/5 ~ Monica did a little better here, if only by nature of the fact that it is Monica's arena. Both of you did a decent job explaining the arena, but there was less character reaction to the setting than I would have liked. For example, instead of just describing to the arena to try and emphasize where the characters are, describe the arena from your characters eyes and show the reader how they feel about the arena. I imagine finding themselves in a place such as the arena as I understood it would have generated some interesting emotions in each character.

~Pacing 4/4 ~ The battle felt a little rushed, and there really wasn't much to draw the reader in and keep them involved. Pretty straightforward "A happened, then B, and then C, and then D" kind of stuff. A little more tension, or perhaps some creative foreshadowing would have helped.

~Dialogue 6/5 ~ There wasn't a lot of conversing between the two characters, which was understandable given that they are fighting one another, so most of what I had to go on involved internal dialogue. What your character is thinking and how you portray that is just as important to dialogue as spoken words, and I think Monica did a little better emphasizing her character through thoughts. With Travis I got a few blurbs here and there, but nothing really that stands out or could be attributed to Travis as a character.

~Action 7/7 ~ This seemed pretty good in my opinion. Both of you stuck to actions that were true to your characters, and the action was clear and carried out nicely.

~Persona 7/6 ~ I only got a few glimmers of personality here from either of you. Monica made up for it a bit at the end, and I got a better sense overall of what she was like as compared to Travis. My advice here is that maybe Monica comes across as a little...I dunno really, cartoonish? I guess. Although that could just be your writing style standing out from what I'm used to. Travis, you just need to keep working on fleshing out Travis and making him feel more like a complete, real person.

~Mechanics 7/7 ~ Both of you are solid here. Obviously you each know what you are doing, and the only advice I can offer to help you improve further is to continue/spend more time/start proofreading your posts or reading them out loud to make sure they sound right. Keep up the good work.

~Technique 6/5 ~ There were some nice attempts at metaphors and symbolism later in the thread, but sometimes it felt a little gratuitous given the nature of the thread at the start. A few things came across as a little forced, maybe, but nothing exceptionally good nor bad here.

~Clarity 7/6 ~ By nature of the arena alone, there were a couple parts that were hard to follow. The action was clear for the most part when the two characters got in close and were attacking/interacting with one another, but it was difficult to keep track of who was where in between those times.

~Wild Card 5/5 ~ Overall this was a quick, fun read.

TOTALS: 61/54

Monica is the winner!

Monica receives 825 EXP and 100 GP.

Travis receives 225 EXP and 25 GP.

[Witchblade]

EXP and GP added!