[Me, Myself, & I] Training the hard way...

[The Bloody Son]

This is ONLY open to those who want to watch the fight from the big screens and deal with the betting and money passing. I need a mod to watch this if they would to validate money exchanges and bets. Nothing over 100 gold. People wanting to role play a little may join to watch, but no one may join the fight.


This evening, something about the bustling crowd that seemed to pour through the doorway attracted Cellius curious and naive mind. The holler of a bellowing voice seemed to mesmerize the massive crowds and pull people in by the dozens that were passing the busy trafficked highway in front of the Citadel.
The vampire passed silently in with the crowd, bumping and rubbing shoulders with all the human patronage as the filed in like cattle. Each touch of a human through his clothing sent a spine tingling feeling from Cell's individual hair follicles to the tips of his toes, sensing the blood that was rushing through their mundane veins.

Inside the the buildings high arched thresholds, the crowds gathered noisily. The cathedral ceiling seemed to cause the ruckus of the mob to grow exponentially louder than what it originally was, which made the blood harvester wince. His sensitive ears were picking up various rumor-oriented conversations about what the citadel was offering. Thoughts that emerged from these denizens minds were new monsters, a different battle system, and possibly a multi-man melee - none of which sounded like a valid reason or system.
Cellius moved swiftly and silently, emerging at the very front of the crowd where a massive mirror stood before the mass with a liquid ripple to its surface. The two large men that stood behind Cell frowned as the boy cut to the front and made a little bit of an issue about it, but the boy looked over his shoulder at each of them and his pallid flesh silenced them pretty quickly. The show began with the dimming of lights...



BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM


Each sound was a hollow thumping sound of lights kicking on around this circular entry way, each giant bulb illuminating a massive screen that was set up in a pentagon style around the room. At the end of the smoke screen, visual display a light flicked on and a man stood near the mirror and touched his neck. The hum of an amplifier kicked on and the man spoke, his jowls flapped toward the ignorant mob.



"Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to the Citadel!
We're glad that you all came interested and we're looking for a champion to tackle the latest and greatest event that we have developed! This is not for the faint of heart and all those who are under eighteen will be escorted from the building and Life Cards will be checked at the door for entry purposes.

This is dangerous! Vicious! And very personal.
The world will develop around your psyche!
The opponent will be the toughest man or woman you've ever faced...
A deadly...
Vicious...
DANGEROUS OPPONENT!"


The fat man's voice echoed and the room was dead silent. A pin could have hit the ground and everyone would have looked in its direction and known what fell - a deadly silence.

"Yourself ..." He whispered into the microphone and concerns and thoughts arose on people's faces before the protests and foolery of waving hands pursued. Yells of doubtfulness and stupidity rang out across the crowd and then the man spoke again.

"We assure you, you'll get the battle of your life! Don't knock it until you try it? Any takers? Who's up for this venomous battle? Who is brave enough to tackle his own fears - himself?"

Deviously, the two large men that stood still behind Cellius looked back and forth at one another and chuckled. With the force of two men, both hands pushed against Cell's back and he stumbled nearly fifteen feet forward before catching his balance and before he could move - a spotlight exploded like an angelic falling around his haloed figure. The blood thief sighed heavily as the man grinned widely and the two behind him laughed.


"Thank you lad! Your bravery will not go unrewarded! We offer gold and abilities for your winnings! And if you've been to the Citadel before, your Life Card will register you for a grand drawing of 500 gold!"

Cellius stood there momentarily and then sighed heavily. He didn't see what the harm was in battling himself, so he took a few steps forward and moved to the mirror, facing it directly on and the fat man moved his hand from his neck and spoke silently to Cellius.

"Son, this seriously is the most vicious battle we've ever designed. You will face yourself in the deadliest of forms and the darkest parts of your mind. You must be ready for anything when you step into here or you'll be back in less than ten minutes..."

"Thanks for the heads up, sir... I suppose I should give the fans a show, huh?" Cellius gave a half smirk and the man nodded slowly. "If you do well, you might make some extra profit on bets and whatever else as a tip for people making mad money off of your fight. Who knows. Depends on if people stop by and watch your fights on the big screens..."

The floor below Cellius illuminated in a cerulean aura and the mirror flickered. Scanned information zoomed by before the boy's chocolate eyes as it plotted his mental background and life history in order to compile a fighting style, a premise, and a scenario. A metallic voice emitted from the mirror and the liquefied face rippled, "If you complete the scenario or defeat yourself, you will return. Good Luck, Sir."

The boy touched the mirrors face and was instantly sucked into a fabricated world of 'imaginable' terrors...

[The Bloody Son]

Something dripped on his shoulder and Cellius swatted his hand violently around, spinning in a circle. He appeared in the middle of a really, dank, dark cave and unexpectedly was touched. With his right hand across his body, Cell felt the rubbed, dampened leather grip of the Ferv - his fingers curling tightly, nervously about the hilt. A drip caused him to spin around again. Somewhere the water was echoing off the walls, dripping - maybe blood? The boy's mind wandered fiercely. The scent of salt caused his nostrils to flare and ache. A thunk and the blade whipped out violently, slashing horizontally through the air in a swipe that could cleave a man in two - a sheath strike.

The boy turned around again slowly, the pitch black taking his eyes some time to grow accustomed to before he looked up and around. Apparently, he was inside of a cave of some sorts, but Cell couldn't figure out where. He took a few steps back, minding his footing. A crescendo came from somewhere - behind him? No! From the side, his breathing grew that much more tense and he swung the blade to the right, toward a cliff-like opening and the oxygen got caught in his lungs. A massive wave of water crashed against the darkened cliff wall and sprayed him completely down with a full on blast of ocean water. As it hit him, instinctively his eyes closed - Cell gasped and inhaled a good amount of salty water and began sputtering and coughing.

"Holy shit ... that was scary ..." Cellius wiped his face off slowly and then he heard footsteps. Someone approached from the back of the cave and his eyes depicted ... it was himself! A walk of confidence and finesse, a strong stride and broad shoulders. Cell squinted as the man approached and it didn't look like his movements and before he had time to react, the figure shadow-stepped and snarled with a swinging fist. "HELLO ... SON!"

A bloody, watery spit flew from his mouth as he fell to the left, stumbling and trying to catch his footing, but when he fell - everything changed. The vampire's head began to pound, trying to cope with the change of scenery that continuously seemed to occur. First the cave and now when he impacted the floor, the boy looked up to reveal a castle in flames with a mob about thirty yards off and the echoing screams of a woman burning inside, hit all to close to home with him. "M...mother?!" She screamed louder, howling like a banshee trying to be banished. And from the main entrance of the manor, a figure came running out, completely engulfed in fire. Cellius stood erratically, stumbling over himself as the figure ran at him.

With a halting slam, Cellius ran face first into Draco's chest and his father looked down at him with a snarl. The older generation snatched the younger by the face and spun him around to witness his mother, running his flames at the boy - her siren screams a wail of pure agony and pain. "THIS ... IT is YOUR fault, Cellius. She died because of YOU!" The boy stood wide eyed and terrified as the blazing figure came toward him - guilt rushing over his mind and completely absorbing his senses.

"No.. No! It wasn't my FAULT!" With a left arm thrown up, Cell knocked the grip loose and with a spin, he sliced Draco clean open. Cradling his stomach, Draco fell and Cellius paid attention to the wails - this is a fight, not a dream!
Yet when the woman's hand clawed viciously toward his face, Cellius felt the heat of the flames burning his face and he threw himself back to avoid being hit or burned anymore than he was already scorched, but when he hit the ground again - the world snapped to and changed on him, yet again...

Stay off the ground ...

When he stood, Cellius found the site familiar. The Coliseum. This had been the first time he'd ever been around the Citadel and as he stood there, he looked up and saw himself, sitting up on the ledge and a familiar voice echoed from the background - Vincent Winterscar. His regal sway and handsome smile seemed to cut through the center of the arena that was moonlit and the ground kissed with sand. The crows cawed and I sighed, You guys again...?

The boy stood there, looking at the ground and then back up to the darker version of himself who dropped to the arena floor and stood slowly. His body had a serpentine roll as he stood up and his eyes were a crimson red that were completely offset by his ebony flesh, much like that of a drow. Cellius watched the figure approach Vincent and ignore Cellius for the moment before they began to speak to one another...

"Death in the darkness?" Vincent's liquid cool voice echoed in the ovular arena as the grinding of steel was his blade being pulled from the sheath. The serrated blade was enormous, just as Cellius had remembered and his eyes squinted toward the black figure. Dark Cellius moved awkwardly toward Vincent, but with a slow step and sway toward himself - causing him to frown, defensively ...

"I like your style..."

[The Bloody Son]

Cellius watched as the Dark self moved at Vincent with his snakish ways. Something wasn't right with this picture though, Vincent stood there momentarily and then looked to the real vampire and sneered. His flesh pooled with ebony and the once icy tendrils of the human swordsman now looked oily black - a walking shadow. The skies overhead rolled with clouds and blocked the moonlight and lighting ripped across the sky, followed by a tremendous crack of thunder that shook the arena and caused stones to fall from the walls, high overhead and crumble and roll downwards into the arena.

With most of his attention on Vincent, Cellius looked around for his Dark self. The arena grew dim, but there couldn't have been any way that he could have just walked away without the boy knowing. From his right to his left, Cellius scanned the dismal arena. Nothing more than Vincent and the flapping of crow's wings caught the precise eyes and intense senses of the boy. Within a moments notice, a sharp pain jolted into the base of the boy's head and he stumbled forward - his vision dazed. Dark had shadow stepped behind the boy in an elbow thrust that caught him completely off guard and a sharp pain lurched into his very finger tips.

Stumbling to his knees, Cellius reacted through instinct when he looked up and saw Dark Vincent's rush. The swordsman's blade drug across the ground and the rocks and dirt separated around the thick edge before it was swung sky wards. In that moment, Cellius rolled to the left and swung with Ferv - the clashing blades rebounding off of one another with sparks of fury. The swordsman snickered vilely and then turned to face the boy again who rolled to a stand and the dust and pebbles fell from his clothing. "Oh... this is bad..."

Vincent was parallel to his Dark self and they both stared intently at the boy with malice oozing from every pore and a grimace of defiled evil saturating their darkly shrouded faces. The scent of decay and evil seemed to permeate from the ground below them and the boy's body stirred the aroma even more. Cell heaved suddenly at the noxious smell and covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve before slinking back slightly - the two advanced the step he withdrew.

Cellius didn't have time to think, time to react, time to even question who he was inside - if all this was emerging so viciously. The world around him flashed and changed again. Each change - each transition from one world to another was a metallic liquid that rippled and flashed with the reality interaction. Light bent severely and separated in other areas to reveal a new playing ground - but each time it seemed to get progressively worse.

Standing still, Cellius sighed heavily as he looked around and the world changed. Defeat felt so close. Haunting his every motion, his every movement and attacking him psychologically with his family and and past as well with the hardship and beat down from Vincent - now this... He tried to stay positive, but every action was negated harder than the prior.

The world morphed again and left the boy standing on a hill over looking burning castle. Cellius stood next to a figure cloaked in all black and a popped collar, which fought back the chilled rain of this abysmal night. His hair was slicked back with wax, which allowed the water to roll lithely from his scalp and his pallid features expressed sorrow as he watched the manor burn to the ground and the screams of ... his wife, echoing in the background. Cellius stared at the man silently, who stared at the castle with the same deafening silence.

"F... Father? How can this imagery be? I thought you were in the castle? If this is from my cerebrum, I must have seen you here - then. Now?" Cellius fought back the tears as the Dark self and Vincent stood by, waiting and watching the interaction with a respect that offset this entire world. They didn't attack during this painful and emotional floundering, which Cellius wouldn't have found odd because he was too busy trying to sort through a thousand emotions that ransacked his brain. His tears - masked by the rain fell across his porcelain cheeks and he shook his head slowly.

"You see me as you do. But you cannot know if it was really me or not. Your thoughts betray you to give you hope that when you turned back to see the castle, to see the hill - you saw a figure at its peak. Was it me? Your father. You must discover this... It is your internal battle now." Draco's voice spoke with a dense accent that rivals a mix of Transylvanian and Celtic. "Stay off the ground, Cellius. You're thinking this - but not paying attention to it..." It was his father's voice as he remembered it, but the pain and oddity of his wording reminded the boy that he was buried in the heart of a war zone - the thick of a battle. When this thought crossed his mind, Cellius' Dark self moved into action and ran at the boy - Vincent followed suit with sleek motions.

[The Bloody Son]

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"I wish I could explain what is happening right now folks, but the boy is doing a lot better that I thought he'd be doing! The black skinned version of himself is his true enemy, but as long as the Dark Version can keep him attracted to different events, scenarios, and other people - then he'll survive until they battle it out!

You'll notice a trick of the eye! Every time the player hits the ground, the level will change to another place they know and have been sometime in their life! Sometime, some place, some event - it doesn't matter where, who, or when - the kick is that if the Dark Self can keep the player occupied - he puts the player in more danger than before!"

The crowd was enthralled. Completely mesmerized by the screens and the carnivorous men in the front row that loved the blow that the boy took to the back of the head cheered for whichever would make them more money - the machine or the boy. The climbed on top of each other like feed time in a koi pond, throwing gold coins into a massive pot that was located in the front of the arena, guarded by mages. These pots were the betting pots and each was enchanted with a catalog of each person and their life cards - so that it knew who bet what and how much on whomever.

"HOW DOES HE NOT KNOW THE ENEMY IS HIS OBJECTIVE?!" Someone yelled from the crowd and Cedric, the fat jowled man spoke - his heft moving from one side of the stage to the other to approach the speaker. His porn-star mustache etching his shady, thin lips and giving his face even more of a weaselly appearance.

"Because, my good friend..." The speakers blared and people hushed slightly, watching the monitors of this black figure arise, speaking truth and mind reading at the same moment. "The world is natural. It's real. Mind over Matter. He will be so engulfed by his surroundings and the crashing ocean waves taste so salty and real, his mind is taken over and he will not remember where he's really at!
It's a battle to remember who you are. To discover what you're truly about! Let's continue to watch - see how well the boy will do..."

Cedric's fat fingers gripped the stranglingly tight vest that he wore and tugged it down from the upper part of his massive gut and paced slowly, worried for the boy's safety because of the untested nature of the Me, Myself, & I Machine. His eyes etched with worry and exhaustion, as he'd been up for nearly two days straight, preparing for this intensive event and spectacle.

The crowd grew as the time continued on. More people filtered in, showing Life Cards and filing in around the outskirts of the arena to watch the massive screens around the room depict every event, action, and environmental change that the boy saw. Some pointed and looked at the mirror in the center, wondering what it was and some just waited to be told - listening to Cedric's explanation with wonder and skepticism.


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