Fiora brushed her hair away from her face. She smirked at her opponent on the other side of her. He was nervous, his stance was off, and his grip on the epee was flimsy. Flicking her blade wide open, she lowered it into a first prime position, goading an attack. Her opponent lunged forward to try and stab at her. Spinning her blade down and around, she parried the attack and flowed into a fléche. The point buzzer went off, showing the score was fifteen to nothing in her favor. She raised her ungloved hand to her lips, tittering, "I would say zat I was challenged, but you did not make me break a sweat mon petit chien."

The youth slumped forward and grumbled in frustration, walking off the strip and threw off his helmet. Fiora's laughter rang louder. A firm, commanding voice cut her off, "Miss Laurent, I don't care how good you are, this is the last time you don't wear a helmet."

She cast a glance back at the source, "But monsieur Morello, a mask is only needed if I was in any danger."

The super muscular and totally handsome man referred to as Morello stepped forward. He twirled in his hand a small foam bat, one he used to bop Fiora on top of her head, "You are too squishy Miss Laurent. If even one strike had hit you, tons of damage could have been done."

She laughed once more, "Zat is true, but 'ow many 'ave 'it moi? Hm? Out of...hm...I lost count after ze seventh one!"

Morello rolled his eyes, "Yes, yes, I get the point. I need to think of some restrictions for next time you fight."

"Restrictions?" The Demacian girl raised an eyebrow, "Monsieur, you flatter me." She sighed, "If only zey were good enough to give moi a challenge."

Morello shrugged, "Well, maybe you could take up kendo."

Fiora gave him a strange look, "Why would I take up such an ugly art?" He shrugged, "Not sure, but from the looks of it, little Irelia hasn't lost a match either."

The Demacian girl waved him off, "Please, zat is like congratulating a frog for ribbiting. It is nothing special."

The sound of wood snapping echoed in her ears. This was quickly followed by the sound of screams. Fiora looked over and saw a youth in a black and white gi and hakama on the ground, grabbing his arm in pain. The lithe figure of an Ionian girl, barely more than thirteen years old, stood over him. In her hand, a shattered boken was clenched tightly. She removed her mask and stared at her opponent with her soulless emerald eyes. Morello sighed and made his way over, hollering, "Irelia! What did I tell you about using a weapon?"

Irelia looked over and held it up to show that foam had been taped around the broken wood. Looking at the writhing youth on the ground, she offered him a hand. He tenderly grabbed hers and was pulled to his feet. She motioned to him to take a stance, an offer he vehemently refused. Morello pointed at a nearby training dummy, "Irelia! Drills! Now! No more fighting until then!"

The Ionian walked off and complied. The gymnasium they were using was large enough to host both the fencing team and the kendo team in the same room. The school was funded to have two smaller gyms and then a larger gymnasium in which any big event would take place. The fencing and kendo clubs both respectively had a later time slot than other clubs, one they were thankful for due to minimal interruptions. Fiora snorted, trying to hold her amusement in, but failed to do so. Laughing aloud once more, she shook her head, "Oh my, what a strong leetle girl you are. So much brute force, so much skill needed to whack people wiz a steeck!"

Pantheon's eyebrows lifted upon hearing the crack and cry. She seemed so harmless until she broke a boken on some poor soul's arm. As athletic as he was, he had never seen such brute force in a girl. He was impressed to say the least. And his wounded pride became slightly more bearable when he saw what this little girl was capable of.

When Fiora insulted Irelia, Pantheon brushed the words away. Why would she react to such a stupid insult? It wasn't until Irelia's eyes glared at Fiora that Pantheon's attention was regained back to the action. She threw down her boken and faced the Demacian girl, her eyes secreting a mental venom that would burn into the souls of anyone who dared looked into them.

Irelia pointed at Fiora, "Take that back."

"I most certainly vill not," the Demacian retorted. Raising a hand, she spoke with a condescending tone, "You only won because you crippled your opponent in such a brutish manner. Zat is not skill, zat is barbaric."

The Ionian girl reached up at the clasps on her kendo equipment, and snapped them off. Clattering to the ground, she advanced towards Fiora with only her white gi and her scarlet hakama, "One strike, one death. That is the point of swordsmanship."

Fiora nodded, "And I agree with you. But!" She pointed at the advancing Ionian, "Wiz zat kind of skill, you telegraph your intentions so easily! To read you, I might as well go to ze beach, drink a bit of coffee, find a nice book, and zen look for your attack. It is, 'ow do you say...?"

Irelia interrupted her line of thought, "You pompous bitch." Morello and Fiora both blinked in surprise.

Pantheon merely watched the scene unfold. How unfair was it that Irelia reacted to Fiora's insults, but not his? Was he not good enough to get challenged? He felt both angry and insulted that Irelia would merely ignore him in such a way, yet completely respond to the insults Fiora gave her. Though, he still could not tear his eyes away from the sexy cat fight that he reassured himself would soon ensue.

Fiora furrowed her brow, her tone a lot more dangerous, " 'ow dare you, you...du sang neuf, do you know who you are speaking to?"

"I am speaking to an egotistical self fellating girl," Irelia marched towards the fencing strip the Demacian was standing on, "That thinks her sword art is better because she was against small fish. And you do not realize the stupidity of your own statements. That is who I am speaking to."

Fiora's entire face went red. She gripped her sword tighter, "I am only stating ze truth, it is not my fault zat someone wiz ze intelligence and grace of un plaque de fromage is unwilling to accept such a thing."

The Ionian girl made her way past Fiora and towards a cabinet hugging the wall closest to Morello and Fiora. She flung it open, grabbed a spare epee, a red colored wire with a plug on each end, and two fencing masks. Bringing it over, she pointed dead center on the mask, "This is where I am going to hit you." She tossed it at Fiora while putting on her own mask. The Demacian smirked at Irelia, " 'ave you ever even fenced before?"

"Not once."

Fiora rolled her eyes, "Zen zis is not nee-"

The Demacian blinked. That was her mistake. The tip of the epee was pushing Fiora's nose downwards, the sound of the button on the tip of the blade making a distinct clicking noise. Irelia raised her voice, "Put. The mask. On."

Fiora snorted, "Fine."

Slipping the mask on, Fiora pointed at the strip, "Take your stance, if you even know what it is." The Ionian walked past the Demacian, laced the wire through the loose sleeves of her gi, and connected it to a black wire. This black wire stretched from a small box, which was hooked up to the scoreboard, this was how they were electronically keeping score. Fiora flicked her blade about, "We will make it up to cinq, zat way your 'umiliation is short et sweet."

Irelia shifted her feet and took an unnatural fencing stance. Fiora burst out laughing, "Whenever you are ready, Monsieur Morello!"

He rolled his eyes, "Girls. Alright. Ready? Begin.."

Fiora pressed the tip of her blade into Irelia's chest in a flash. The Demacian chuckled, "What is zis? Zere is no natural padding?" She raised her left hand to where her mouth would be if she were not wearing the mask, "I can see where your anger stems from. It ez alright, you may grow a pair one day."

Irelia made no response. Morello's voice rang out, "One nothing. Ready? Begin!" Irelia shuffled forward, jabbing the blade towards Fiora. She snorted and slapped it aside before driving her point into Irelia's chest once more. The Ionian's body visibly tensed from this. Morello barked at Fiora, "Miss Laurent, stop attacking such an unprotecte-"

"It is alright." Irelia rubbed her chest, "Keep going."

He sighed and shook his head, "You need the protection or else she can hit your chest, you can develop trauma to your breasts, and from my understanding it hurts quite a bit. You will lose the lane from pain alone."

"Don't care," the Ionian flatly replied.

He sighed, "Two nothing. Ready? Begin!"

Irelia shuffled forward once more, making Fiora tilt her head in confusion. "Really? You try zat again?" She batted the blade away and struck the inside of Irelia's thigh. "Three nothing. Ready? Begin."

The moment Irelia raised her foot, Fiora jabbed it with a sharp poke. Morello's voice rang out, "Four nothing. Ready? Begin."

Irelia stepped forward again. Fiora sighed and moved to bat the blade out of the way. Suddenly her head snapped back, the blunt tip of the sword pressing into the center of her mask. "Four one. Ready?"

Fiora stammered in shock, "Wh-what? Zat...I did not see zat!"

"I know," Irelia replied. Taking her awkward stance once more, she stated matter of factly, "Don't take your eyes off me for a second. You will pay."

The Demacian readied herself. Morello's voice rang out, "Begin!"

She was going to end it. Fiora stepped forward into her trademark fléche. Streaking across Irelia, she felt her blade strike the Ionian in her side. She had yet to meet someone who could avoid the attack, or even think of parrying it. Morello's voice rang out, "Five two, Fiora wins."

She blinked in confusion. She glared at Morello, "You mean cinq un, Monsieur Morello."

He pointed at the scoreboard, the bright flashing numbers clearly read five to two. He quickly explained, "Irelia moved forward at the same time as you. She caught your side too."

Before the Demacian could respond, Irelia spoke up, "Today it is two."

"...So you can count. Bien," Fiora replied.

The Ionian's tone made the Demacian girl look at her, "Today, it was two. Tomorrow, it will be three. The week after that, it will be-"

Fiora interrupted, "I did not ask you to teach me 'ow to count. The week after zat it will be quatre, and zen-"

"No!" Irelia's voice boomed. She pointed at Fiora, "The week after that, it will be six. The week after that, it will be twelve. The week after that, it will be twenty four. It does not matter what style you use, I will beat you in it. You are nothing but a big fish in a small pond, while I am a fish in the ocean."

The Demacian was about to respond when Irelia pointed at her kendo equipment, "Pick that up. Fight me in my territory. I don't think you will be able to even move."

The color from Fiora's face drained. She had never been so insulted in her life. Irelia's next words practically were filled with her spiteful tone, "Pick up the sword and get ready to fight. I fought you in your style, let's see you fight in mine."

"Poor Fiora..." Pantheon lightly said to himself. After watching Irelia practically humiliate herself to prove her point, he felt less insulted. She had character, reasons for doing what she did. Perhaps there was more to her than her athletic, slender body. He didn't want to watch Fiora get beaten into mercy by Irelia, but he couldn't look away. He was pretty sure this would not happen a second time. So like a curious puppy, his eyes remained glued on the two girls.

Fiora flicked her glance from Irelia to the kendo equipment. She had no idea how to use them. But she was called out. She tentatively took a step towards them when Morello hollered, "Right, enough's enough! It's been way over an hour of practice, and it's time to pack up!" He glared at Irelia, "Put what you borrowed away, Irelia."

The Ionian glared at Fiora, "It is not a problem, Morello. Fiora, will you stay and have one bout with me?"

The Demacian stuttered in response. Her eyes shot open in utter shock, she had never been nervous about a sword fight ever. Irelia shrugged, "Guess not. It seems I must applaud you, I have never seen a frog unable to ribbit before. See you tomorrow, Fiora Laurent."

With that, Irelia spun on her heels and made her way to her discarded equipment. Fiora visibly shook with anger, spun on her own heels, and marched away with her sword in hand. Tossing the helmet to the ground, she marched out into the hallways, every inch of her face depicting her anger. She did not notice the teenaged boy near the doors, nor did she care to acknowledge his existence. Irelia quietly and promptly put away the borrowed equipment, helped clean up any stray pieces of spare equipment, and made her way to the doors in the far corner that led to the changing rooms.

Slightly disappointed at the end of fight, Pantheon got ready to leave. When he turned around, Akali stood over him. "What are you doing here?" She asked in a stern voice.

Pantheon, shocked to see someone who was supposed to be working in the hospital at this time now standing over him, stammered for words. "I..uh...umm..."

"Stop staring at them and go home!" She commanded.

"Yes ma'am," he squeaked before darting off.

Down the hallway, Fiora continued her march, sword in hand when she abruptly stopped. She screamed aloud, "Zut! Zis is not ze facking change room! Gaaah!" Spinning to face a locker, she cracked her head against it, "Right! 'ow can zis get any worse?! Will I meet a dragon who wishes to steal me away, will I meet some marauding Lokzar raiders who will whisk moi away to become 'is baby maker?! Come on, do eet already, let us get eet over wiz!"

A small wisp of smoke wafted through the air. The ember glowed brightly in the dimly lit hallway. Each word that was screamed echoed harshly around him as he stood with the cigarette clenched tightly between his lips. As he stared down the hall he saw the same girl from the morning and turned slightly 'Why did she help me?' His thoughts played tricks on him as he searched for a reason.

Taking another drag of his cigarette he coughed placing his hand to his mouth. As he brought the cigarette away he saw the blood on his hand. Turning his attention to the small girl he noticed that she had heard his coughing. 'Great, this is just what I needed.' he thought to himself as he turned to walk away.

She sniffed the air. Smoke. Who would be stupid enough to smoke inside? Fiora looked for the source and saw him. "Oh non. Non, non non non! Non, please, don't tell me you are zat stupide!" Fiora raced down the hall and easily caught up to Talon, stepping in front of him. She prodded his chest, "Zis is an illusion! Zere eez gas being pumped into ze air which makes me see zings I do not want to see, such as a garcon who is supposed to be in ze 'ospital not in ze 'ospital!"

The Demacian gripped his shirt and violently shook him, "Why are you not in ze facking 'ospital?! Whyyy?!"

Grinning, Talon looked at the small girl. "To be blatantly honest I didn't like the room decor. The entire color scheme of the room didn't match the curtains at all, and to be honest, the carpet was a horrid off color aqua. Seriously, I wouldn't want my kids playing in such a place. Also, the lampshade was-"

Fiora raised her hand, interrupting him,"Putain de merde! Êtes-vous sérieux? Avez-vous également avoir des rapports sexuels avec des ours en tant que moyen de divertissement? Y at-il une pénurie nationale de la puissance du cerveau dans ce petit crâne de la vôtre?! Etes-vous que stupide?" She shook him again, "Etes-vous que stupide?!"

Talon blinked looking at the petite girl in front of him, "I assume that you're praising my supreme masculinity, and to this I say thank you"

Fiora's left eye spasmed. This was followed by her screaming incoherently for a minute in a single breath in his face, which was followed by her beating her head into his chest in complete and utter frustration. "One! Give me one facking break! Just! One! One!" Looking up, staring Talon dead in his eyes, she growled, "You. You are going back to ze 'ospital right now. Right facking now! Do you understand zat?! You understand ze common, oui? You understand ze words coming out of my bouche?!"

Talon's face turned to stone at the idle threats, placing his hands heavily on the girl's shoulder he returned her gaze with one equally cold, "Now listen to me for once. I didn't need your fucking help this morning. Consider this my only warning to you, stay away, or you're going to get hurt."

Fiora's eyes tightened. She pushed him off of her and fired her fist into a nearby locker. Denting the metal door, she drew it back and showed the blood flowing from her knuckles, "Sacre bleu! I am 'urt! Now stop being so pig-'eaded and get to ze 'ospital or I will-"

Talon grinned slightly at the small amount of blood flowing from the girl's hand, "So you can bleed. So can I." Lifting his shirt up slowly he showed the crimson bandages wrapping his ribs. This stopped her from speaking anymore as she stared dumbfounded at the blood. Dropping his shirt he continued to speak, "Next time try to leave a bigger dent to emphasize your point." Forcing his hand heavily into a nearby locker the door buckled inward breaking loose from its hinges.

Fiora clapped her hands to her face and screamed into them. Pulling them away, she yelled, "Fine! You win! Go kill yourself! I don't care, you...you...GAH! JUST GO!" She glared at him, her entire body shaking with anger, frustration, and the smallest pair of tears trickled from her eyes, "You understand zat, yes?! GO!"

Moving his hand slowly he wiped the tears away silently and turned. "Nobody in this world is worth shedding tears over, its best to learn that early on."

Fiora yelled after him, "Z'ere is always someone worth shedding zeir tears over, you stupide boy! Always!" This was around the time she realized she was still wearing her fencing tights. One last scream of frustration echoed in the hallway.


Somewhere, several hallways over, a large, demonic creature from a world not able to be comprehended by mortal minds continued its rambling, "AND YOU SHALL WASH THE TUPPERWARE, AND YOU SHALL WASH THE MEASURING CUPS, AND YOU SHALL WASH..."