Heyo, this is Moceezemo; the Duel account. This is the second posting of The Arena, and it's now perminant home. We hope those of you who read the Original Arena were able to find this, if not, I'm talking to dead air!
Either way, please enjoy. Although relativly plotless, we do hope you find the comedy to be well delivered. Many of the instances in this story (the plotless ones at least) are taken from real in-game experiences between the authors and their friends. Have fun.
The Arena
Chapter 1
Pacifist My Ass
All about the stadium, the lights were blazoning milky white as they flared about the wide, open-air expanse. Thousands upon thousands of otherworldly beings filling the seats and cheering with the words which flashed blindingly across the massive screens positioned so each individual spectator could watch.
A massively huge hologram hung in the center of the stadium far above the lone platform. Five sided it was, allowing swarms of small tickers to blazon across the four displayed faces of the next round's competitors. Placing their bets and hoping to take home a princely sum for their gambles.
The faces of two young men, one with midnight blue hair crowned in gold, another with fiery red locks kept back with a bandana were to face off with two other opponents in a one-stock free for all survival match. The two men wore similar outfits, long, volumous capes which obscured their light frames and made them appear larger than they truly were. The third opponent was a man dressed in dark blue overalls with a green hat and shirt, a thick, bristly mustache positioned under his bulbous nose.
The fourth opponent was the one receiving the most tickers under his name, a hooked black nose under two glitteringly dark eyes. A shock of crimson hair kept back with ornate golden clips, a shimmering ruby crowning his forehead. Head to toe in black leathers and thick hides, a slow, strong warrior with a golden power imbedded in his left hand…
High over the roaring, faceless crowds of the expansive coliseum, a large, private booth hung. Lined with seats which were noticeably more comfortable than those of the paying spectators, a large buffet was table stretched along the back wall whereas the one before the seats was of solid glass. For all that the distance between both and battle ground were and always would be great, the box was undoubtedly one of the best seats in the house, as for some reason the spectators within were always able to see every little detail of every match.
The box was more or less empty at the moment, only two of the nearly thirty competitors in the annual competition currently watching the preparations for the next match.
"Bidding on the underdog?" The young man asked; his knees hooked over the arm of his plush, comfortable chair. His blond head resting against the shoulder of the woman seated next to him, a long, pointed green cap twirling in his hands as her fingers absently comb through his hair. Sleepy blue eyes gaze down towards the arena lazily, one arm in a sling from a hard sprain in an earlier match.
"Oh, I'm not sure…" His companion answered, looking down at the sprawled Hero for a moment as the hidden announcer begins working the crowd into a frenzy all around them. Within the box however it's rather quite, the noise blocked off until the two spectators within choose to allow it to intrude on their conversation. "Luigi's likely to have a difficult time however, unless he's really into things today."
"So long as neither the Prince or the Sorcerer win…" He replied bitterly, earning himself a gentle smile from the Princess on whom he was leaning.
"You don't like Marth very much, do you?" She asked curiously, twirling a lock of her own copper-gold hair between her fingers as he let his head slip from her shoulder until it would have been resting in her lap if not for the arm rest. It hurt his neck ever so slightly, but it allowed him a better view of her face as he scowled slightly.
"No."
"I didn't think so…"
The conversation continued on in a similar matter for some time, until at long last the announcer was content with the amount of absolute chaos brewing within the crowd, and at long last the battle was on. However, for all that they had the best seats in the stadium, and there was some general interest on his part in watching two personal enemies- one of whom was a tad more hate-worthy than the other- attempt to beat the absolute living snot out of one another, the pair didn't generally pay much attention to the event.
In order, the first competitor sent spiraling from the platform which had taken the shape of a green field- ever changing with the additions of a windmill, forest fire, etc, was a disgruntled Altean Prince. A few snide remarks flittered through the air in the calm box at this, then a bit of wicked laughter and finally some half-hearted words of admonishment.
Sent spiraling from the platform in flames was the fire-haired general a few minutes later, and a low whistle followed by polite clapping for the plumber who'd sent the armored boy into elimination.
"Well, he's certainly into it today." The Princess commented, nudging the bruised Hero who was finally sitting properly in his seat, leaning on his good arm as he watched the fight with a smile tugging at his lips. The match was turning out to be rather exciting actually.
"Oh, wait, no…" He groaned, losing his smile and leaning back against the chair in disappointment. The Princess scanned the screen and likewise sat with her back completely against the chair.
Before them the pair watched as the green-clad plumber's foot stepped down onto a small glowing green pad, the angry look on his face doing little more than appear comical as he was abruptly engulfed in flames and sent rocketing off across the arena. A similar mine detonated as he streaked over it, and the poor man's shrieks of pain, frustration, and perhaps even a bit of fear echoed through the stadium over the awed shrieks of the crowd. He flew so far beyond the stadium limits the plumber was little more than a speck on the hologram backdrop before the announcer finally boomed, "GAME!" over the sound system.
"It was going so well, too…" the Princess sighed, as displeased as the man at her elbow that the Gerudo sorcerer had indeed won the match. The hawk-nosed, jewel clad brute flexing his burly muscles as his hands glittered with dark energies. Even though they hadn't lost, his victory left a bitter taste in both their mouths.
"Wait… what's that!?" Standing suddenly, the Hero strode up to the box window, sleepy blue eyes widening as the large screens high above the arena began listing the match's end information. Pictures of all four opponents were visible, their sizes ranging from large to small depending on each participant's ranking, the three losers politely applauding the winner as the crowd cheered and screamed it's appreciation for the senseless, censored violence.
What had caught the Hero's eye, however, and what quickly drew the complete and utter attention of his Princess, was the bonus scores. Rolling through each participant's stats at a slow rate so as to allow everyone ample time to read them –and both to prepare the next opponents and allow those who'd bid money to collect their winnings- were the corresponding values of points awarded based on technique and skill.
One such award, was labeled pacifist. To win without inflicting direct injury upon any opponents, no physical or magical strikes of any method or manner. And the judges had awarded this bonus unto a beast who- before being tamed by the Arena- had choked the very life out of countless innocents across the world of Hyrule and other lands. A being who had stolen the power of the gods and wielded it with sheer brutality and hostility. Ganondorf, the Gerudo Lord, the Dark King and Harbinger of destruction…
Had been labeled a fucking pacifist!?
"That-that-that-!!"
"That's not possible!"
"Not right!"
"How in the nine hells did he-!?"
"It's a scam!"
"They rigged it!"
"They're all blind!!"
Finally, Hero and Princess reached a consensus.
"That's fucking cheap!"