Zerith vs. The Cinderella Man

[Ther]

This match-up will last until 8 P.M. E.S.T. on 2/16/07. Remember, if you finish your battle early, I can score you early - and finishing early is a good, good thing.

Best of luck!

[The Cinderella Man]

“CLICK – she likes me – CLICK – she hates my guts – CLICK – she likes me – CLICK – she hates my guts...”

Victor’s fingers kept cocking the hammer of the empty revolver, producing the same oily metallic click every time he pulled the trigger as his mind proceeded with the repetition. His very own version of loves me-loves me not was even more futile then the real deal; unlike with the flower petals, the revolving of the cylinder could go on forever, bringing no definite answer. But then again, it wasn’t like he expected an actual answer anyways. The sound of the metal synched with his mind’s voice was just an attempt to make the time pass faster. Unfortunately for the bulky prizefighter, it had an opposite effect, making him feel as if he was staring at the hands of a clock on the night before a big bout.

She that Vic’s mind kept mentioning was the reason why he was here, standing on a backyard porch of a deserted-looking manor in Radasanth Slums. Her name was Asuka, she was an atypical redhead and even though she had a tendency to come off as a genuine ball-buster, she grew on Victor the way unobtainable women usually did. She was the type that would scold him, demean him, push him away no matter what he did for her, and he was the callous type that kept coming back for more, hoping to break through the thick shell sooner then later. So far the only time he succeeded in doing something even remotely similar to that was when they both got stone drunk and collapsed into a bed together. They both seemed so happy, so heedless... and then the morning came. Ever since that morning, the talk about that night became a taboo topic.

But even though he was here because of Asuka, Victor wasn’t here, on someone’s forgotten private property, to meet her. No, the redhead was merely a fuse that evoked a certain emotion that the down-and-out boxer had not felt ever since Scara Brae and Delilah; jealousy. It was a silly thing really. They weren’t exactly a couple; the hot-and-cold wildcat had an aversion towards such a definition of their companionship. But no matter how much either of them tried to deny or conceal it, there was a bond between them, an intangible something that kept them jumping from one crazy endeavor into another together. It was this connection that made Victor act so immature, making him envious of the fact that Asuka fraternized with another man, and one that the prizefighter knew no less.

Zerith was pretty much everything Victor Callahan disliked. He was a pretty boy, a hero wannabe that walked around in breeches too big for him, poking with that oversized halberd of his wherever he could. He wasn’t necessarily a bad person – in fact, Vic was pretty certain that, like all kids with stars in their eyes, Zerith’s intentions were good. But the fact that this aspiring hero flaunted those intentions in front of Victor’s girl was that line after which the boxer had to set his foot down. He had to show this greenhorn that in the world of real men, there were some lines that shouldn’t be crossed.

Knowing that men talk seldom finished with a friendly pat on the shoulder, the solitary gunman prepared himself. The clicking of the revolver stopped, leaving only the questions to linger as Victor’s fingers loaded the gun. He took three lead bullets from the left side of the slanted gunbelt that hung loosely on his hips, then three iron pointed ones from the other side, loading them in turn. The lead ones could pack quite a punch, he knew, but if Zerith wore armor, they were bound to ricochet harmlessly. That’s why every other round in his gun was capable of piercing armor.

Once the process was done, Victor stuffed the revolver back into its holster, propping his back against one of the few standing columns that maintained the integrity of the porch. The house itself was rather unremarkable, another failed investment of some merchant who, for a short while, lived in an illusion that he would be able to revive the lethargic Slums. The nameless owner was long gone now, leaving the house for the homeless to squat in until it fell to ruin. Most of the windows were boarded once upon a time, but by now both the boards and the windows were torn off, leaving gapping holes that offered a glimpse into the black nothingness of the unfurnished interior. It was far from a perfect venue for small talk, but Victor doubted that either of them would throw just words at each other.

“Click,” the cylinder of the revolver turned as Vic’s thumb moved it, his hands as restless as his mind that decided to restart the game from before. “Click – she likes me – Click – she hates my guts – Click...”

[Zerith]

Why was it that trouble seemed to follow people when they didn’t really do another to deserve it? It was like a punishment, or a sentence being carried out for a crime the individual never committed. Why did is always have to happen to the nice people as well? All they were trying to do at the time was help someone, or just enjoy their day. It was like a curse, if someone tried to live a happy life or enjoy themselves, something bad was just around the corner. Although he didn’t realize at the time, Zerith was about to find himself in trouble. Though after the ordeal would be over, he would realize he should have seen it coming.

The halberdier was sitting at a bench in front of the statue of Radasanth, talking to his old friend Zevernus. The two of them had a long history of working together and running from a lot of trouble side by side. Though once someone really knew Zevernus’ character, they’d learn to expect trouble frequently. The last time they two of them actually got to sit down and talk like this was before and after Zerith’s first encounter with Asuka during the Serenti. The stubborn redhead and the halberdier had a good fight back then, though the situation suddenly changed when the current did. The swordmaiden quickly found herself fighting for her life underwater and Zerith had to make the decision if he would try to save her or not. The fact that Asuka was still alive was a statement to what his final decision was.

“So what ever happened to that redhead?” Zevernus asked. “You know, the one that kicked your ass?”

“Typical Zevernus,” Zerith thought. His friend was trying to rub in the fact that Asuka somehow managed to move onto the next round, leaving the halberdier behind. “You watched the fight you idiot, you know as well as I do that she didn’t kick my ass.”

“Really, Then would you might explaining to me why you lost the match?”

He was never going that down, but then again neither was Zerith himself. That loss was like constant itch, he knew he should have been the one to move on, he clearly won the fight. Yet someone decided to declare the girl the victor, clearly that person didn’t watch the match. “How about in five minutes I’ll explain to you why I just kicked your ass?” Zerith shot back to his friend with a glare.

“Hey, easy there buddy.” Zevernus replied. “I’m sorry, I guess I went too far.”

“Your damn right you did Zevernus, and you know as well as I do that I should have one the match. One of these days I’ll run into that girl again and show her why I should’ve been the one to move onto the next round.”

“Well do you think you take it easy on her, she’s kinda hot.” Zevernus said with a grin.

Shaking his head, Zerith answered, “ You think anything with breasts is hot. Besides, she’s out of your league.”

“And how would you know that Zerith? Wait…don’t tell me. You hooked up with her didn’t you!? I knew it. I knew you would have a fling with her after the fight! I bet she was a screamer, wasn’t she? Man, so that’s why you told me to back off, so you could hook up with her. Zerith, you sly dog!”

That’s when everything when downhill. Some boxer heard Zevernus’ words and immediately stormed over to the two men. The stranger claimed that the redhead Asuka was his girl and that the halberdier had cross a line that he shouldn’t have. Zerith responded naturally and tried to explain the truth, but the boxer ignored him. Instead the stranger named some place in the slums and told Zerith to meet him there soon. Apparently, the halberdier was going to be taught a lesson in what lines in life shouldn’t be crossed.

After the boxer stormed off, both Zerith and Zevernus sat there silently for a few moments. The ammount of time dragged on until eventually Zerith got up from the bench and picked up his halberd. “You know there are times when I’m hungry, cold, lonely, poor and sometimes even depressed. During those times I sometimes ask myself, ‘why am I not travelling with Zevernus anymore?”

Looking up at his friend, Zevernus asked, “Then what happens?”

“Then I meet someone like that boxer, and I remember.”

***

The backyard porch was just like the rest of the property, deserted and forgotten. A project that just never got completed, otherwise it probably could’ve turned out to be quite a beautiful house. Instead, it was a shelter for the homeless, a manor for the poor people. The owner probably had great intentions for the place, but now the halberdier wondered how the owner would feel now when he saw what it had become and who it’s inhabitants where. For some reason, anger was the first answer that came to mind. Chances where the owner would be angry at what he saw, just as Victor was angry at what he saw in Zerith, whatever that was.

As he approached Victor, Zerith’s eyes immediately fixed upon the revolver. “Just Great,” he thought, “The one person Zevernus had to piss off was the washed up boxer that has a gun. Probably feels like since he can’t throw good punches anymore he has to resort to another means of fighting.” Maybe if he was lucky, they two of them would sort things out and Victor wouldn’t feel the need to use the gun. Otherwise Zerith was screwed, unless he miraculously found a way to get around the gun.

“So do you think we can just sort out this little misunderstanding by talking?” Zerith asked. His answer came from the audible “Click,” of the revolver. “How about I go first, that friend of mine didn’t know what he was talking about, I only know Asuka because we were placed against each other back in the Serenti Invitational...”

Indeed, trouble always had a gift at being a pain in the ass.

[Ther]

Zerith wins by disqualification and earns 50 EXP/GP.