Nightshift 44: The Coliseum

[nobleman]

[Warped in from here.]

When Guy's eyes opened, it was almost as if he was waking up, and yet he knew that wasn't the case; he was standing, with a weapon in his hand, and somehow feeling far more comfortable than he had in weeks.

His gaze was on his feet, and it took him a few seconds to let everything sink in. He was wearing boots. His boots. And while being back in familiar clothing wasn't so new to some people, it was definitely a big change for him.

His head then snapped up and he realized just what he was holding. It wasn't Ashton's sword, but his own, the Jewel of Gardios -- and on top of that, Guy realized that he felt more powerful somehow. Did he have access to fonons? He had been working without them for so long, but it was almost as if he could feel them in the air now.

All of those changes didn't matter as much when he took in his location. The sphinx had warned them, of course, but the huge coliseum still impressed him, and what was even stranger was the way sunlight seemed to be filtering in from overhead. Was it actually day? This almost felt like he was in some sort of dream.

But that theory was torn into shreds when he eyed Sync, also in full form, standing across the arena from him. So what, they were supposed to fight? Guy didn't have a problem with that (it was what he'd come down here intending to do, after all), but he knew there had to be some kind of catch.

As he glanced to the side, he saw that Claude and Dias were in similar positions, except facing each other. "Wait," he muttered under his breath. No way were those two going to fight each other except in a sparring capacity, so what was going on? He wasn't sure where Anise and that other girl had gotten off to, but maybe it was for the best that they weren't here...

Comments

Coliseum Floor - North

[godforsaken]

The first thing Sync's eyes gazed upon when he came to was his dull reflection against the metal of his mask. He would've been both blind and stupid to have not known what it was; after all, he'd worn it like a second skin for so many years. In fact, it didn't take long to realize that his entire outfit had changed, the tight fabric of his God-General uniform clinging to his body. And what was even more surprising was his body itself: he felt as fit as ever, with no sign of pain or strain radiating from his injuries. In fact, it was almost like he hadn’t been injured at all.

Yet his eyes finally narrowed as warning flags waved in his mind, tilting his head to the side in order to examine his surroundings from underneath his mask.

This... this was a coliseum, probably the very same one the monster from last night mentioned. He idly raised his head even higher, looking up at the ceiling while sunlight poured down upon them. Even he had to spare a few seconds to admire the new scenery, though the moment didn't last as he settled his eyes back down on his opponent.

Guy.

Much like Guy, the God-General was just as sensitive to the fonons that surrounded them, their familiar denseness blanketing them both. It was such a drastic change to feel them in this place, as their presence alone was enough to make him feel like they were back on Auldrant. Of course, given this institute's record all of this could've very well been a ploy, and so he sought fit to perform a little experiment in order to test the waters. Gracing the blond with a dirty smirk, Sync suddenly raised his arm and outstretched it in Guy's direction. While unclear at first, his intentions soon became obvious the moment that fonic glyph appeared before his hand, the symbol growing brightly as a large ball of energy shot out right at the swordsman.

Re: Coliseum Floor - North

[nobleman]

While Guy had been worried about Claude and Dias, his concerns quickly had to return to himself. Sync wasn't the type to just wait around when he had a chance like this, and Guy was hardly surprised that the God-General was taking this opportunity to use powers that had long been sealed off to all of them. Idiot! Didn't he realize that there had to be some kind of catch?

He heard both Claude and Anise (from behind him?), one yelling Sync's name and the other his own, but he was more than capable of handling this now.

Seeing how Sync had decided it was a good idea to test out the fonons, Guy didn't see why he shouldn't follow suit. Watching as the ball of energy flew toward him, Guy let out a breath and then yelled out an attack name: "Tempest!"

He vaulted off of the ground, doing an impressive somersault that would have caused his sword to slice into whatever was beneath him. In this case, that was nothing, but he had mainly used the Arte as a way to get himself high enough in the air that the energy ball went shooting right under him -- and as a test of his own. Guy landed and then turned to watch Sync's attack hit the bottom of the stands behind him.

That was when he saw Anise up above, along with the other girl he didn't know, and -- was that Celes? He had no idea where she had come from, but it looked like they had an audience.

As he turned forward again, Guy had to watch as Claude raced toward Sync and was then rudely cut off by what had to be some kind of invisible wall. Ouch.

While he got the feeling that Sync was just going to keep up with the attacks, Guy wasn't going to engage him just yet. Shouldn't they try and figure out if there was some sort of explanation for all of this first?

Re: Coliseum Floor - North

[godforsaken]

Even before Guy prepared to dodge Sync was already preparing his next attack, shifting his arm until it was parallel to his body as he concentrated gathering the necessary fonons. He couldn't help but laugh as he watched Claude try to rush at him, only to stop short when the blond ran into some kind of invisible wall. This probably meant that he couldn't attack Claude either, but that was fine; the last thing he needed was some sorry bastard getting in his way. Him and his friend could stay on the other side and out of his business.

Of course, the God-General knew he should've approached this situation more carefully, but it'd felt like such a long time since he had access to his powers. And besides, it made enough sense that whoever sent them here in the first place wanted them to fight, otherwise they wouldn't have bothered returning their possessions in the first place. If that were the case then Sync didn't mind providing some entertainment as long as it coincided with his own goals. After all, he was nothing more than a tool anyway. Who could blame him for wanting to have a little fun while he could?

Yet the sudden booming voice was enough to deter his concentration for a moment. It sounded as if it resonated throughout the entire coliseum, and it took the God-General a few seconds to pinpoint the source.

'... Who was that guy?' Because Sync's mind had been elsewhere he hadn't been able to pick up the familiarity at first. Yet it didn't take long for him to realize that the voice was something he'd grown all too used to over the past week and a half. However, some small part of him was in disbelief at how he was now witnessing Landel in the flesh, as if attaching the voice to an actual being was out of place in itself.

Sync regarded the Head Doctor with a passive expression, burning the image into his head through narrowed eyes, before suddenly shooting his arm back out at Guy as he finally unleashed his arte.

"Thunder Blade!"

Upon the God-General's words a giant spear of lightning materialized high above where Guy stood, crackling once before shooting down towards the blond's general direction.

If there had been any questions he wanted to ask regarding the man, he'd be more than happy to let someone else do it for him.

Re: Coliseum Floor - North

[nobleman]

Guy had only been allotted a second or two to catch his breath before his earlier thought was responded to. It sounded like they would be getting an explanation, and who better to give it to them than Martin Landel?

He turned to the right, to where that voice was coming from -- and for once, it wasn't entirely filtered through a loudspeaker. The man was right there, and despite the fact that Guy had been in the institute for what he thought was a decent amount of time, this was his first time seeing the man with his own eyes. The weirdest thing about it was that Landel looked almost normal. Middle-aged, dark hair... The fact of the matter was that nothing really stood out about him other than his maliciousness.

Still, Guy wasn't allowed a chance to speak up even if he'd wanted to. He heard Sync's voice yelling out a command, and he remembered the attack as if it had been only yesterday that he'd last been on the receiving end of it. His body remembered the timing, and he sprung into action, darting out of the way right as the charged spear shoved into the floor, causing dust to fly up around it.

It took only a few seconds for the dust to clear, but in that moment he heard the Head Doctor finishing up whatever he had been saying to Claude. Guy was glad that someone was trying to get answers, though it wasn't very helpful to him when he was too distracted by Sync's onslaught to pay proper attention.

However, the message came through clearly enough when Guy suddenly felt a sharp pain cut through his chest (where the zombie bite should have been, he vaguely realized), causing the orange of his outfit to be stained with blood. He gasped out and then fell to his knees -- the cut wasn't fatally deep, but it had taken him by surprise. Where had that come from?

He glared over at Sync, wondering if he was somehow responsible or if this was something else entirely.

Re: Coliseum Floor - North

[godforsaken]

Sync rolled his eyes when Guy dodged his second arte, form partially swallowed up in the thin cloud of dust for those few seconds. Unlike the other, who was too busy dancing around like an idiot to pay attention, he was able to catch and digest at least the second half of Claude's conversation with Landel. The fact that he was witnessing the blond being lectured like a child was more than enough to pay back all his efforts.

Yet the God-General quirked an eyebrow when the Head Doctor raised his hand, looking about the arena for their due punishment. However, his attention immediately fell back on Guy just as the swordsman fell to his knees, the dark red stain on his shirt visible even from where the teen stood. Of course, the timing wasn't lost to Sync, but there was the possibility that it may have just been a delayed reaction from his attack. He wouldn't be surprised when it came to slow minds like Guy.

"What's wrong Guy? Getting tired??" There was no ounce of sympathy in the replica's voice, however, as he lifted his head high enough to show off his sneer. Sync had no code of honor, and he'd be damned not to snatch any opportunity he could take, no matter how filthy it was.

This was why he dug his boots into the ground and propelled himself forward, charging at Guy with unmatchable speed. Sync pulled back his arm, creating a tight fist with his right hand before swinging down with every intention of striking the swordsman in the face.

Re: Coliseum Floor - North

[nobleman]

It didn't take long for Guy to make the connection between what was happening to him now and what he'd endured last night. Once again, he was suffering from a wound that had come from an invisible blade, and yet he already knew that this situation was different. There was no sense of him being in another place, another time, living out a death that didn't belong to him. This was real, and he had to wonder if the wounds would be gone by morning this time. With the arena-like setup, he was starting to doubt that.

Still disoriented, not to mention distracted by Anise's pained gasp that came from behind him, Guy wasn't prepared to get out of the way of Sync's attack. The God-General's punch connected, knocking Guy onto his back, hard. He had never doubted the Tempest's strength, and he could already feel a bruise forming on his cheek as the blood continued to drip down his chest.

Guy was nothing if not a quick fighter, though, and he immediately reasserted his grip on his sword and swiped out at Sync with it -- bringing the fight in close put them on a more equal level.

He heard the Head Doctor's words from above him and caught enough of the explanation that he felt newborn anger giving him the energy to fight even harder than before despite the wounds he'd already accumulated. So Anise had been injured, too? He didn't even have the luxury of making sure she was okay, but he knew one thing; he needed to fight relentlessly, which was something he was completely willing to do considering his opponent.

But then he had to wonder: had he received this injury because of Claude's hesitation? If that was the case, then chances were he was going to continue to have to brave attacks that he was powerless to block. He didn't believe the Head Doctor's apology for one second, and he would have cursed the man more directly if he wasn't busy focusing all of his attention on Sync.

Re: Coliseum Floor - North

[godforsaken]

While the successful connection of his attack made Sync outwardly grin, he was sorely disappointed to know that it'd only been because of all the distracting noises high above them. It figured that Anise couldn't keep her mouth shut for even one minute. Still, he could only watch as Guy pathetically fell back onto the floor, more than prepared to block the sudden slash with the heel of his boot. The block had caused a few tendrils of green lightning to appear at the point of connection, though Landel's words were enough to steal his attention for the time being.

One would think that getting a 'helping hand' from the Head Doctor himself would receive at least the slightest bit of amusement, but Sync was anything but grateful. It was almost as if they didn't trust him to finish the job on his own, which would only lead to Claude and the rest his idiot friends pinning Guy's inevitable death on something completely unrelated like this. It figured that he couldn't even enjoy this one thing.

The replica threw Landel a harsh glare, teeth grinding together as he bit back his poisonous words.

No, this was Guy's fault. If the swordsman had just kept to himself then he wouldn't have had to drag spineless bastards like Claude into the picture. Ha! It served him right for trying to make friends in a hellhole like this!

"Looks like it'll be to the death. Just like old times," Sync announced bitterly, raising his head high to meet Guy's eyes with his own condescending glare.

Coliseum Floor - South

[full-score.livejournal.com]

Barely a minute ago he'd been pressed in the corner of the hallway and trying to regain his bearings after suffering a violent kick in the face. Now he was opening his eyes as if waking up form a dream, yet Claude was still standing. The first thing he noticed was the total lack of pain in his shoulder and face. Even his nose was completely healed! But that wasn't the only thing that was different. The sword Ed had made him had been replaced by the familiar weight of his Eternal Sphere. Reflecting the sunlight from overheard, the blade gave off its distinctly blue and purple sheen.

Wait, sunlight! But what...?

Frowning in confusion, Claude squinted up toward where the light was filtering through the ceiling. When that didn't give him any answers about what was going on, his gaze immediately snapped toward Dias, who was standing a fair distance across from him. Then, he glanced over toward Guy, who was positioned further up and wearing what were probably his Auldrantian duds. Weird!

Just as he was turning to see who was standing in front of his friend, a large ball of energy caught his attention. It was aimed straight at Guy. One glance at the source of the attack was all Claude needed to see -- even with the mask and the form-fitting outfit, he knew exactly who that bastard was.

"Sync!" he ground out through his teeth. Without even thinking, he charged toward the boy, a familiar yet unexpected surge of energy bursting through his body. Dirt flew up from where his feet suddenly pushed himself off from the ground in what was supposed to be a wide leap--

--only for Claude to be met by the unexpected shock of slamming straight into an invisible, solid force. Flashing specks of light clouded his vision, and it took Claude a moment to realize that the wall, or force field, or whatever that was had sent him lying on the ground. "Dammit--!" he hissed, utterly bewildered as he tried to push himself to a stand. "What the hell is this?!"

Re: Coliseum Floor - South

[heavens-too-far.livejournal.com]

In the space of a blink, it seemed, Dias - and the others, from what he was able to see in the very brief period between his opening his eyes and his grimace as he flinched back from the sudden, inexplicable sunlight; he'd been straining to watch Sync's form in the darkness and that had done him absolutely no favors upon their arrival here - had been transported to an oddly well-lit, open...arena, the word supplied itself unbidden. It wasn't at all dissimilar from the arena where the Lacour Tournament of Arms was fought; it even had seats for spectators, he noted(once he was able to crack his eyes open again without giving himself a headache), though he didn't focus immediately on the few people sitting there. Come to that, the Sphinx had mentioned a coliseum the night they'd acquired the shield...though Dias had been too wrapped up in chasing Sync to realize they were actually making their way to the place.

It took a moment for Dias to notice that the hilt of his sword felt different beneath his hand, but upon glancing down, he immediately realized that more had changed than simply their location. The sword sheathed at his side (and how long had it been since he'd even had a scabbard to keep his sword in?) certainly wasn't the utilitarian piece of metal that Roy had made for him; it was his sword, the blade Gamgee had forged that no one else had spared a second glance - proof enough that his criticism of Lacour's increasingly lax standards for swords had been justified - the Swallowblade.

It made little sense for his own weapon to have been restored to him, except that by now he'd begun to adapt to the perverse nature of the institute and could easily guess the twisted logic. This was an arena; clearly someone wanted to see a good fight.

He'd nearly forgotten Sync in the midst of taking stock of the strange new situation they found themselves in, but clearly Sync wasn't nearly as distracted, as a sudden flare of light - some sort of magic, and Dias' esteem of the boy plummeted just a bit further; normally someone who could combine magic and martial arts would in fact have earned respect from Dias, but as an enemy it just made Sync all the more aggravating - signaled the start of what would probably end as an attack on Guy. Dias' move to go after the boy was more delayed than Claude's, but that worked out well, as it meant that Dias had some forewarning rather than the both of them running into what seemed to be - and felt, when he approached and cautiously explored the boundary with a hand - some sort of invisible wall. More magic, probably.

It was as if the institute was just trying to give him reasons to hate it at this point.

Re: Coliseum Floor - South

[full-score.livejournal.com]

Once Claude had brought himself to a full stand, he heard Anise's voice calling out Guy's name. His gaze quickly snapped over to the source of the sound, and it was only then that he realized that there were actually people watching this. At least Anise and that other girl were safe, but...where had Celes come from?

Unfortunately, Claude didn't have much of a chance to think of any possible explanations. Another voice boomed across the arena -- a disgustingly familiar one that caught his attention in all of the worst ways. If there was anyone in this building he hated more than Sync, it was the man who harassed them day after day, and tormented them night after night. The man responsible for the suffering and disappearances of his friends.

The man who was looking out over them right now.

Seeing the face of someone so despised for the first time was an almost surreal experience, as if Claude wasn't really a part of what was happening, but a mere bystander who could only watch while the situation around them sharply turned upside down. Claude scowled without realizing it, his fist clenched both in a sudden fit of rage and a surge of determination.

Like hell he was just going stand here and say nothing. Not when they'd been whisked in here like this, and not while Guy was having to fight Sync on his own. Claude knew his friend was capable of defending himself, though, which was why he made himself not look back toward Sync's assaults as he marched closer to Martin Landel's vantage point.

((Briefly jumping over here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/744481.html?thread=60688417#t60688417).))

Re: Coliseum Floor - South

[heavens-too-far.livejournal.com]

The head doctor.

Dias had seen him once before - he might be the only one of his allies who had; Claude hadn't even been at the institute yet, he was fairly certain, and he didn't remember seeing Guy there - but he found himself hating the man every bit as thoroughly as he had last time. However, he had observed, while trying to ignore Scar and Lust's domestic dispute, what had happened to the patients who had tried to attack the man, and those who'd tried to challenge him; the inexplicable collapses, the innocent but insufferably smug dismissals. Though there was no need for pretense in an arena that couldn't possibly be waved away as part of a normal institute(or during the night, although with the sunlight Dias couldn't help wondering whether it was truly night anymore), he doubted challenging the man would result in anything productive, either physically or vocally - indeed, it might be dangerous, because while the man looked more worn down than when Dias had last seen him, it was still all too clear that he was in control of things, and there was no thin veneer of normality here to check his potential retaliation.

Of course, a Claude who didn't openly challenge an enemy wouldn't be Claude. Leaving the strange, invisible wall between them and Guy for the moment - they could only trust that Guy could take care of himself, since they were clearly not intended to be able to help him - he had been about to move after Claude to back him up in whatever eventuality when the sound of faint cries from the stands caught his attention. Turning to look, he spotted the pigtailed girl (who seemed to be in some distress; had Sync injured her at some point? There were bloodstains on her shirt) and the redheaded one from earlier; he'd assumed they had been the blurry figures he'd spotted a minute or two ago, but now that his eyes were fully adjusted he could make out specifics far better. But there was a third...

"Celes?" he murmured in disbelief. And then he saw the hand pressed to her stomach, and the blood seeping through her fingers, the red a stark contrast against pale skin even from a distance.

Why was she even there? And what had hurt her? Not the other girls; even if one of them were so inclined and had managed to get close enough to injure her, Celes would be taking them apart now wound or no wound...

Re: Coliseum Floor - South

[full-score.livejournal.com]

((After talking to the Head Doctor over here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/744481.html?thread=60688417#t60688417).))

Even as he tried to master his facial expressions, Claude didn't feel the calm resolve he was so desperate for. Celes and Anise were bleeding, and now Guy was being forced to fulfill the roles of both a battle participant and a hostage. Why, though? Wasn't the girls' safety enough incentive to get them fighting? But the answer lingered in the back of Claude's mind, quiet yet certain, even if he didn't want to acknowledge it.

Claude drew in a deep breath and briefly closed his eyes. Dammit. Just what had happened to make everything spiral out of control like this?!

But he'd have to save sorting through all that for later. Now his attention was focused on Dias. His gaze met his rival's as he silently raised his blade into a battle-ready stance. Hoping that this alone would convey to the man just how serious the situation was, he waited for a clear signal on Dias' part.

Maybe if they approached this like they would some kind of sparring match they could buy enough time to figure out how to get out of this mess without losing any of their friends. Though on some level Claude understood the odds were stacked against them, he wanted to remain hopeful for everyone's sake. And his own.

Re: Coliseum Floor - South

[heavens-too-far.livejournal.com]

Dias was fairly certain he couldn't hate the head doctor, in particular, any more than he already did, but the man was clearly pushing to see whether or not he'd hit the extreme limits of Dias' capacity to loathe someone. Being forced to fight Claude lest Celes suffer (and it had to be Celes, if Claude himself wasn't being hurt, since they were the only two besides Guy whom Dias was close to in the arena, and against Claude Guy was no contest) was cruel and cowardly, not to mention unncessary; locked in an arena with Claude, Dias would have been hard-pressed to restrain the urge to test his rival.

Of course, with the leverage Landel held, Dias doubted that they'd be allowed to simply leave it at a simple sparring match.

Still, for the moment they had no choice, if they wanted to spare Celes(and Guy, who was presumably suffering for Claude). Claude, having turned away from the head doctor in frustration, had clearly reached the same conclusion, and Dias gave his rival a nod of acknowledgment as his hand moved to the hilt of his sword. And, through his rage at being forced into this confrontation by the machinations of the doctor, and at Celes' and Guy's being hurt to ensure their compliance, and all the unspoken implications as to how the fight might have to conclude...Dias felt a moment of savage satisfaction. It certainly hadn't taken the form he would have chosen, but this was still the opportunity he'd wanted - to see just how much Claude had advanced, and whether his instincts as to the boy's abilities had been correct. And even if Claude hadn't advanced at all from their last fight at the Tournament of Arms, it would still give him the sort of challenge that, prior to meeting Claude, he hadn't even realized he'd been missing.

There was some distance between them, since Claude had moved toward the head doctor and Dias hadn't, but that wasn't necessarily an obstacle. Knowing it would work - and he wasn't certain how he knew, save instinct - he drew his blade in a blur of speed, scything it through the air and sending a shockwave roaring across the ground at Claude. "Air Slash!"

Coliseum Stands - West

[gald_digger]

When Anise found herself awakening with no memory of falling asleep, her first thought was that it had to be morning, and Nightshift had ended. But instead of her warm bed, there was only cold, smooth stone beneath her. With a gasp of alarm, the girl's eyes snapped wide open, and she realized she was sitting in a place she'd never seen before.

The coliseum. Just like the gold monster mentioned... and was that sunlight filtering into the room? It couldn't be, right?

There wasn't time to worry about what was above her, though. Below her, in the center of the arena, stood four familiar figures. Without a second thought, Anise shot to her feet and ran to the edge of the seating area. Guy and Sync... and Claude and the other man. All of them were dressed in their own clothing. Just like special counseling patients...

"Guy!"

The name flew from her mouth the instant she saw the energy ball. Sync could still use those kinds of abilities!? --No, it probably had something to do with their weird situation. Everyone else was wielding their own unique weapons. It wasn't a stretch to think they had their abilities back, too. Briefly, Anise began to wonder if maybe their heads had been messed with, but Claude's actions quickly answered that for her. Okay, so this was different from special counseling.

But what was going on? Why were they all split up like this?

Re: Coliseum Stands - West

[lady-general.livejournal.com]

[AND SUDDENLY from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/729936.html?thread=60556368#t60556368)]

"--ol." Celes finished her sentence and frowned immediately. Where. What. This was not only not the hallway she'd just been in, but there was light. Real, pure sunlight. "Son of a submariner," she muttered, her mind already working to deduce where she could possibly be and why---

--Why were Dias and Claude down there? Of the four people down in the arena, only three of them she knew, and of those three, only one she knew well. Celes turned her head to the other two young women with her, lips thinned into a determined line. She had a feeling that this was going to end badly. "Where are we, and who are you?"

Re: Coliseum Stands - West

[dahliahasthorns.livejournal.com]

See, Dahlia Hawthorne usually considered herself too classy to swear. Yes, she may have not been the perfect little flower she made herself out to be, but she wasn't totally crude. But right now, there was only one phrase dancing around her head once the sun was suddenly blaring in her eyes and she found herself being a cheerleader in the bleachers of a huge goddamn stadium.

What the fuck is this?!

Was this what Sync had been chasing after for the past two nights? What he had dragged her to hell and back for? This? What the hell could he possible get out of this aside from being able to start a fight without consequence? Why was it morning now? When did they get here? What was the point to this stupidity?

And who was that bitch?

"I-I don't know where we are," she answered the new-comer in her frightened kitten voice. She really didn't care if Anise knew how she really was - she was the minority there and if she knew what was good for her, it'd stay that way.

What a loser.

But from the looks of things bellow (and... she had no idea how to classify the looks of those things, so she just chalked it up to the paranormal and calmly left it at that), Syncie was giving himself a headstart. Well. At least she knew who she was cheering for.

Re: Coliseum Stands - West

[gald_digger]

For a few moments, Anise stood frozen at the edge of the stands, but as soon as Guy reacted she breathed a sigh of relief, and she found herself able to move again. Right; if Sync was at full power, then Guy was too. Even though Guy was in a dangerous situation, he wasn't defenseless.

There were voices behind her, and Anise whirled around to see Dahlia, and... who was that!?

"Who are we? I should be asking you that! Where did you come from!?" the girl sputtered in surprise at the woman. She was positive that nobody else followed them into that hallway before the door closed behind them. Then again, she wasn't even sure how they got from the hallway to the arena. Maybe the woman came in during the time she blacked out... but it was still kind of suspicious.

"Good evening, patients."

The bewildered, suspicious look vanished from the girl's face in an instant. "It can't be..." Anise looked out across the coliseum once again, eyes searching until they finally zeroed in on a figure emerging from the south end of the room. The man had a face she'd never seen before, but his voice was one she'd never forget. This was the man who made her friends and her family suffer. He was finally showing himself.

"Martin Landel!" she hissed, a look of hatred on her face.

Re: Coliseum Stands - West

[lady-general.livejournal.com]

There were more important things to discuss than Celes's sudden appearance (which, incidentally, she did not have an answer for). Like that man in the stands sitting so serenely. It felt as though her blood had started a slow boil. Him. It was his fault, his fault that suddenly Gabranth and Lord Larsa had vanished. His fault that she'd been visited by that odious clown, Kefka.

And here was Celes, all this space and little more than a paring knife at her disposal. "We can discuss that later, child," Celes hissed.

Re: Coliseum Stands - West

[dahliahasthorns.livejournal.com]

Well, well, well. If it wasn't Martin Landel. The other girls might have flailed or seethed in their seats, but Dahlia just gave him a cheery little smile and a wave while the other brats were distracted. Is this the man everyone was quaking in their boots for? Ha! He was the one everyone wanted to kill for trapping them here?

He looked like one of those handsome little trolls who paraded around drunk at socialite parties, the type of man who flirted with the girls and boasted to the men about his conquests in both women and fortune. He looked like one of those easily duped tools who couldn't tell his bottom from a hole in the ground if you sprinkled enough glitter on it. And more than that? Right now he looked like a mess, no matter how much he smiled and tried to toot his own horn over it.

Funny. She would have thought everyone's mortal enemy would have been easier to figure out than that, but you just couldn't con a conman.

Whatever. If he was going to put on a free show, who was she to deny him? Dollie slouched back into her seat and kept her eyes on Syncie. He was doing such a good job without any prompting!

The Head Doctor's Seats

[the-head-doctor.livejournal.com]

"Good evening, patients."

The Head Doctor's voice was a little bit different than it had been last time. Though it was still loud, and slow, and deliberate, it didn't seem to have as much conniving enthusiasm dripping from it, and his words might not have been so easy to hear if it hadn't been for whatever system that allowed his voice to be projected from the seats at the south-center of the arena. The patients quickly realized this and as they turned their eyes toward that location, the Head Doctor stepped out of the shadows and into the strange sunlight.

He looked good enough physically. Maybe the circles under his eyes were a little darker than last time, but it wasn't as if his audience would know it; in fact, those who hadn't been at the Institute long might have not recognized his face at all.

He smiled slightly, as if he was trying to look sinister and only getting about three quarters of the way there. However, he did give it his all when he raised his arm to gesture at the area and said in a jovial, booming voice:

"Welcome to the Coliseum!"

Re: The Head Doctor's Seats

[full-score.livejournal.com]

((From over here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/744481.html?thread=60697633#t60697633).))

Claude still couldn't believe that he was looking at Martin Landel in the flesh. For a moment, words actually failed him because he was so infuriated by how damn cheery he sounded. But he had to keep a cool head. This was too important to let himself completely lose it. Claude took a deep breath.

"Just what is it that you want from us?!" he demanded. The Sphinx had said they'd have to face a trial in the coliseum, but Claude had assumed they'd be required to fight some sort of giant monster or something. With each second that passed, though, Claude had a feeling that the situation was much more complicated than that. So what was Landel trying to pull here?

[the-head-doctor.livejournal.com]

Although most of the patients in the Coliseum seemed to react to the Head Doctor's proclamation, only one of them actually dared to address him directly. Landel sneered in response, and though the expression might have looked a little forced, the irritation in his tone was completely genuine.

"You think that just because we threw some clothes on your back, you're suddenly in a position to make demands of me?" The Head Doctor let out a laugh, waving Claude off with a with an exaggerated gesture of his hand. "Please, Mr. Kenni – if you keep acting so absurdly, I just might have to speak to your father."

That seemed to bring some vindictive joy to the Head Doctor's face, as did the battling that had begun even without his urging. He gave a wide smile. "It seems some people realize what the purpose of this place is, but..."

He turned his eyes back to the less active contestants.

"I'm afraid that you, Mr. Kenni and Mr. Flac, will have to learn the rules of this game the hard way."

He raised his hand in the air, as if signaling the start of something...

[full-score.livejournal.com]

Claude hadn't expected Landel to bring Dad into all of this mess. As soon as the words left the man's mouth, he was stunned into silence for a moment, swallowing hard. For the first time since they'd started this whole foray into the basement Claude felt something akin to genuine, ice-cold fear.

But concern for his father quickly gave way to another surge of anger. "You leave my father out of this, you bastard!" Claude snapped. Having to listen to that brought a bunch of other things he wanted to say to mind, things he could have yelled at that wretched man until he was hoarse.

None of that became important as soon as Landel lifted his hand up. Just what the hell was that supposed to mean? Scowling, Claude abruptly glanced around his immediate area. Had something in the coliseum changed? He didn't notice anything different, and yet--

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard Anise crying out from the stands. A frantic glance toward the spectators didn't tell him much, but he thought he caught a glimpse of crimson staining the front of her clothing. Dammit! Just what was going on up there, anyway?! Frowning, he turned toward where Sync and Guy were fighting, wondering if Guy knew what was happening -- and then froze when he saw his friend down on his knees, as if in pain.

"Just what are you trying to pull here?!" he shouted, eyes on the Head Doctor once more.

[the-head-doctor.livejournal.com]

"Mr. Kenni," the Head Doctor said with a small smile as his eyes moved from one wounded patient to the next, "'pull' implies that I somehow manipulated you all into some grand scheme, but I believe it was all of you who collected the artifacts and brought them here."

The smile widened and he leaned over the railing of his balcony slightly, as if to better survey what was going on below it. "I must say, though, that I am extremely surprised at your collective violence even before even entering this room. Why," he added with a laugh, "we had to compensate with some new rules, but I must say I am very intrigued to try them out."

It seemed as if he was prolonging his explanation to keep the others in the dark, and he watched with some satisfaction at the obvious pain of the onlookers – and the one fighter. "Regardless, I'd advise for those of you in the arena to begin your dueling... if you haven't already started.

"The rule of the game is simple: for each second that your opponent lives, the patient closest to you will get closer and closer to–" he paused there, nearly wincing as he said the last word, "–death."

After a breath, he seemed to regain his composure. With a grim smirk, he moved his gaze to where Guy was fighting Sync. "And I must apologize, Mr. Cecil, that you must act out both roles."

[full-score.livejournal.com]

When Landel pointed out that they'd come here on their own volition, Claude gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes. But there was nothing for him to say. He knew Landel was technically right. The three of them had been working toward this goal even before Sync managed to butt in, and now look. Still, for the man to act like he'd laid everything out on the table for them beforehand? What a load of crap!

It wasn't until Claude realized that his friends were essentially being held hostage that the bone-chilling fear he'd felt for his father just moments ago shifted toward them instead. Almost frantic, his gaze snapped toward the other girl, a wounded Anise, and Celes, who was--wait, was that blood on her hand? Claude hadn't thought it possible to feel anymore nauseated than he did then, but then he quickly looked over to Guy.

Sync's attack had connected with the man's face. The sight of him falling onto his back, shirt stained a shocking shade of crimson, was enough to get Claude's blood boiling again. Dammit! He couldn't afford to let himself become paralyzed with fear. They needed to act, now.

Yet this was Martin Landel's turf, and these were his rules. Those facts weighed heavily on him, irrefutable and as real as the gleaming blade in his hand. To fight or not to fight -- there was no choice left for him, and he knew it.

"You sick bastard," he spat before abruptly turning his back against Landel.

((To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/744481.html?thread=60751137#t60751137).))