Made of Scars

Chapter 1o: Dissecting Eyes

(Gracie's POV)

Many different walks of the Globe lingered in an absurdly extravagant foyer of a huge manor. I lingered along with them, scrutinizing every pair of eyes. They all appeared to hide something or other, but one man, in particular, caught my attention. He stood on his own near the entrance, his strange horns of white hair arching straight up. His black eyes caught mine and he deepened his scowl.

He'd just arrived only moments ago. Who was he?

Jasmine stepped closer beside me and nodded her head toward some porcelain oriental with peppy pigtails. She was undeniably adorable, though grief clouded her deep brown eyes. I cocked an eyebrow and looked back at Jasmine.

She shrugged. "The girl's just so sad. I can feel her connection to him…" she pointed to Kazama as he ascended one of the sprawling staircases. "There's so much negative energy in here, but most of it is coming from him. It's just so focused… so centered."

I sighed. "I know. It's almost suffocating."

"Thomas is already on his way here." She said, offhand.

I glanced at her and smirked. "Get a taste of his anger, did you?"

She shuddered. "Yes… and it's unpleasantly bitter."

Chuckling, I patted her back. "Don't fret. It's going to be me who takes the fall."

"Don't do that, Gracie." She scolded quietly. "You can be such a thespian sometimes. We're both in it deep."

I sighed theatrically. "You know I was in theatre all through high school and got the lead every year."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah… you're such a drama queen."

I feigned taking offense. "I resent that statement."

She giggled and was about to retort, though the room grew insanely silent.

Kazama stood at the middle of the balcony, his hands resting on the balustrade and his trench coat gone. A sleek button up shirt hugged his toned stature and those smooth black shades concealed his eyes. I made a face. I didn't care for all that muscle. The question was: how skilled is he. I examined his cool, borderline sadistic expression and wanted to cringe. That coldness didn't fit him. It made him ugly.

Jasmine shook her head and furtively pointed to a raven-haired beauty hanging back in the shadows, her bedroom eyes of chocolate disdain slicing through every soul in the room. We locked gazes and she attempted to force her eyes into mine, analyzing my soul. I resisted and pressed her knife-like stare back into her own soul. She scowled at me, a shrewd look washing over her face.

What was her reason for being here? Why had she attracted Jasmine's attention?

"Welcome to the sixth Iron Fist Tournament." Jin's velvety, though guttural voice boomed.

I frowned unsurely. Did that snarling undertone really match his tenor?

"If you have just arrived, my servants will have your things taken to the rooms where you'll be staying on the East Wing. The tournament begins tomorrow and I wouldn't want you to be disqualified by fighting outside of the arena. The reward is far too vast to risk." He paused, removing his sunglasses and gazing down at a few participants. "I'm sure we agree."

Utter silence. This wasn't just an empty silence. It swelled with bestial aggression. I looked to Jasmine and she caught my stare, her lips worrying between her teeth. So we'd walked into the lion's den. There wasn't anything that could be done now. We had to just go with it.

The blonde female warrior standing beside him motioned to the no account ass kisser I'd had trouble with at one of the check points just south of the city. I think he'd said his name was Alexander-something-or-other. He walked through the crowd, purposely shoving past me with a well placed elbow. I suppressed a grunt of pain and glowered at his back. His dopey cape tempted me, but I decided to let go of the urge to grab it and wrap it tightly around his neck.

…maybe later…

He saluted Kazama and turned back to all of us. "Now, please follow me to the banqueting hall for a ceremonial dinner."

I watched Jin and the fierce woman as they descended the stairs. Jasmine curled her fingers around my hand; they were trembling. I squeezed her hand and trailed behind the ass kisser. One of the fighters next to us, his hair the color of vermilion, snickered at Kazama as we passed the staircase. Kazama cocked an eyebrow at him and grinned.

Pressing Jasmine closer to my side, we both slowed our walk to let the woman and Kazama in front of us. He waved the woman ahead and remained by us. I kept my gaze on the hallway further on and bit my tongue to restrain my face from showing any emotion. He was looking at me; I could feel it.

Many eyes were roving over me, burning into my back and attempting to stab through my flesh. They were looking at Jasmine, too. I peered at her from the corner of my eye and she gave a faint nod. What was so damn interesting about both of us?

"It's a pity you won't be participating in the contest." Jin murmured.

I breathed evenly in and out. "I came here for answers, not to waste my time with a hollow blood sport."

"I disagree with the hollow part, but blood sport sounds about right." He chortled.

"Slightly animalistic, are we?"

He captured my eyes and didn't let them deviate. "Slightly would be a mild understatement."

Jasmine tugged at my hand and I held my next input at the back of my throat. Why did I frequently find my way into controversial situations? Was I too ballsy for my own good?

The next area we entered could've easily fit my house with room to spare. Three colossal chandeliers hung from the arched ceiling and a lengthy table spanned across the middle of the decorative marble floor. A vivid painting of two dragons battling, one yellow and one black, reached across the ceiling. I gaped at it, awed by the intricacy of the design.

Kazama stepped up to an overstated, though beautiful chair at the head of the table. At least fifty other understated chairs bowed before its lavishness. People began to take their seats in these simple chairs and Jasmine and I followed, however; I froze when I felt steely fingers slithering around my arm. I looked back to see Kazama smiling. How he'd walked up behind me without me even noticing sent chills up my spine.

Jasmine got up from her seat and he shook his head sternly, not breaking eye contact with me. "I would be delighted if you would come and sit by me, Miss Miller."

I couldn't mask my blushing cheeks from all the dissecting eyes and I yanked my arm out of his hand. "Sure… but don't ever touch me again."

He bowed his head in apology. "Do forgive me, Miss Miller."

I ignored his faint sneer and walked over to the empty seat I assumed was now mine. He strode over to his own chair and stood beside it, lifting a wineglass. The blood red liquid swirled tantalizingly and I glanced down at my matching glass… with the same ruby liquid.

"I propose a toast to Chaos… and... a toast to all of you. May you walk away with your lives intact."

I didn't expect everyone to raise their glasses, but they did. Also, the hostility level elevated several notches in that few seconds. I hastily brought the wineglass to my lips and drank, disregarding the bitter tang of the drink. It trickled down my esophagus like virulent ice and I swallowed numerous times to try and rid myself of the taste.

Conversations bloomed at different sections of the table. I stayed my tongue and found Jasmine sitting wordlessly by the combatant with that vermilion tinged hair. Beside him sat a very refined looking man in his late forties. Silver streamed through his dusky hair and his perceptive sharp eyes embodied that of a hawk. Like the red-headed fighter alongside him, he appeared to be oriental, though I didn't believe him to be Japanese or Chinese.

On Jasmine's opposite, a very obese man sat. Was he really looking to win this tournament? I frowned. Appearances could be deceiving on occasion. Perhaps this plump man had more up his sleeve than I knew.

"How did you come by such astounding eyes?" Kazama's inquiry tripped my train of thought and I jerked my head toward him.

"I'm not… quite sure. I suppose they're a mix of my mother and…" My voice died away and he perceived my internal strife.

"I am sorry. Is your father deceased?"

I studied the wry silkiness in his voice and my blood boiled. He meant to hurt me with this issue. Did he know? If he did, how could he? I squared my shoulders and smiled frostily at him. "I don't know actually."

He motioned to the servants at the door and turned his attention back to me, a knowing flicker in his gaze. "Why is that?"

"I've never met the guy."

The room had become rather quiet. I dug my nails into my palms and grit my teeth. I was not going to let him govern my reactions or toy with me.

"Did he not wish to be a part of your life?"

I didn't answer at the moment and decided to gander at the blonde warrior. She sat before me, her posture hushed and erect, and her bitter blue eyes wholly impenetrable. The emotions she harbored were intense. That was one thing she couldn't hide that.

I then looked back at Kazama, indifference masking my face. "I wouldn't know considering I'm the product of a rape."

His murky eyes lit up and he laughed. "You're very frank. Might I call you Gracie?"

My eye twitched. "I'd rather you didn't."

He grinned widely. "Very well then…"

I was caught off guard as a plate appeared in front of my face and I about knocked it out of the unsuspecting hand. The servant instantly apologized, set the plate down, and scurried away. I gawked at the unfamiliar food. The meat exhibited a swarthy brown texture. It didn't appear to be beef, though.

"It's eel."

My eyes bulged in alarm as I gaped at him.

He indicated the chop sticks in his hand. "You eat with these."

I snapped my jaw shut and growled at his derisive comment. "No shit."

The blonde woman eyed me harshly and I scoffed at her. Kazama was having fun. He separated me from Jasmine. He pressed on about my father. Why'd I even come here? I wouldn't get answers from this arrogant, silver spoon punk with thick black eyebrows that reminded me of a damn caterpillar. His face annoyed me, tremendously.

There was no way I would use these puny sticks. I waved at one of the servant and she hurried over.

"Yes ma'am?"

"Do you have any real utensils?" I held up the chop sticks.

She looked to Kazama uncomfortably and he guffawed. "Get her some real utensils, please."

Once again, he'd centered everyone's concentration on me. I glared at him and he winked at me. I snorted and turned away in disgust. What was his deal?

I sought Jasmine's emerald eyes. She'd been watching the whole scene. It worried her. I could definitely see it in the grimace she gave me.

It was then that the real utensils distracted my attention as they were set before me. Unfortunately, I didn't even have time to thank the woman. She raced away in a flurry of white and black clothing. I poked at the silverware suspiciously. It'd be my luck that they were explosive.

I hesitated, carefully taking the fork into my hand. The fork didn't go 'boom'. I secretly released a sigh of relief. After affronting him as I'd done, he should've had me pulverized.

I glanced at Kazama. "It's innate."

"I would say you have a certain knack for flirting with Death."

I blinked, unsure of how to take the statement. "You can call it my hobby."

His eyes danced. "Interesting hobby…"

"I suppose." I muttered as I stabbed my fork into a mysterious pile of vegetables.

He watched while I lifted the fork to my lips in a suave motion. It was about the only graceful thing I could do besides martial science. I slipped the utensil in my mouth and paused to gaze at him. His lips twitched, slithering into a crooked smirk.

That's when I noted the disgusting flavor that suffocated my tongue and I coughed, wanting more than anything to spit the mouthful out. Jasmine glanced, her eyes bulging in alarm. I waved it off and sat my fork back on the plate, swallowing thickly.

I could feel the eyes on me for the upteenth time. Killing this Kazama sounded really fun at the moment. I kept my stare on my lap and curled a lock of hair between my fingers. The urge to get the hell out of dodge was more than tempting. I chewed at my lip and shifted in my seat. It'd grown uncomfortably hot and my legs were beginning to sweat. I mentally groaned and ducked my head until a curtain of dark hair veiled my face.

"Are you alright?"

I glowered at him and kept my tone low. "I tell you what, Kazama. Why don't you piss off."

He arched one of those damned caterpillar eyebrows. "Be careful, Gracie. You want answers, don't you?"

"I'm not exactly here for my health."

He slipped a bite of food into his mouth and set the chop sticks aside. "Good."

-

Later that night, Jasmine and I sat in one of the many gargantuan bed chambers on the East Wing. I lay back on the equally gigantic bed and blew at the stray hairs that'd fallen in my face.

"He wants you. You know that don't you?" She paused. "I don't know what he wants you for, but he covets you."

"How can he covet me if he doesn't even know me?"

She got up from the bed. "That's the thing… he does know you… and has known you."

"How?"

"I… feel that… he's somehow been inside you before… that darkness…"

I shot up from the bed, confused. "What?"

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A/N: Okay... for some reason, when I was writing this chapter, I kept hearing Weak and Powerless by A Perfect Circle bouncing around in my head... weird... Anyway, I had great fun with this chapter. I'm finally getting to write about every character and I got it in right before I start my job! I hope this makes up for the tardiness that's about to ensue because of it. Oh, and I've drawn Gracie. If you'd like to see her, simply go to my profile and it's the link dubbed: Gracie. I hope to draw Jasmine soon, but I'm not counting on it. I'm amazed I drew Gracie... I hope you guys enjoyed this one!! Oh, and one more thing, if I was incorrect about the color of eel meat, let me know. I wasn't for sure about that. xD

Razer Athane: My dad liked that line, too!!

sponge cake 2: Thanks for the tips, tee hee. Just a question... do you like sponge cake? Oh, and I know you liked how I described Jin's eyebrows!!!! Man... it was just there. I had to, haha.

SeungSeiRan: You took Judo! Hardcore! I'm glad you like how I am portraying Jin's struggle. I didn't want him to seem really whiny, or a perfect man stuck in shadow. I wanted him to appear as a typical human who just didn't want to face his hell. He's not weak, though he's not at his true strength yet, either.

Disclaimer: wax on... wax off... wax on... wax off...