Last edit! I am quite content with leaving the rest alone, cause the stats are fine on them. Enjoy the read.
Just noticed that the 'Booms' in the beginning remind me of the techno Strongbad email. Hehe: 'c'mon, the Cheat, let's break that glowstick open and pour it into Homestar Runner's Mountain Dew. I hear they have to pump your stomach when you drink that stuff…'
Chapter 12
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Boom. Boom. Boom
The incessant pounding reverberated in the tunnels of his skull.
Boom. Boom.
A blackness strangled him, but somehow he was beginning to realize a faded glow all around him. The pounding continued, but slowed.
Boom.
Silence. He opened his eyes.
"I hope you realize what you've put me through." That voice…so familiar sounding, yet different somehow. It was that of a woman, but she sounded strained and unrested. He began to sit up and grunted as he was bodily thrust by two very strong feminine hands back to his cot.
"Hey!" he got out before his mouth was covered firmly.
"You are not to sit up, talk, or in any way attempt any physical movement period. I've been instructed to keep you immobile and immobile you shall be until you are in perfect health, got it? You haven't got the strength of a kitten right now so I suggest you don't try sitting up again. Anyway what I have to say to you does not require feedback." He finally got his eyes to focus on the figure that was speaking. She was cloaked in shadow, her arms crossed before her and her chin tipped up in a superior manner.
"Who in the world are you?" He suddenly found himself mumbling around a huge wad of cotton that appeared between his jaws, and his eyes widened in surprise. "Hey, you have no right to do this to me!" Actually, what came out of his mouth was "Ai, ooaaaooohiiiiiooooiiiiieeeeeeemmmmmmmm!" His dictator would have none of it.
"Be quiet, or you'll have the opportunity to taste one of the nurse's concoctions while conscious. You will probably want to kill yourself if that happens. I know from experience." He could have sworn he saw her make a face despite the shadow. He decided to hear what this person had to say.
"Going to be a good boy, then? Alrighty. Listen and listen good. This is what I know. You are an elite fighter of extreme talent in the battlefield, and you could probably beat everyone in CSSF Academy. Your father is a fool and forces you to do things you hate to do, which results in your being highly unpopular amongst the students. You are intelligent as far as grades go, determined to get what you want, and egotistical to boot. However, you do care for other people and have proven that in just such a way as to sway me from punching you in the jaw right now. If I still felt the same way about you as I did an hour ago, I wouldn't be seen here if you paid me. And yet I still am annoyed by your behavior. So in order to appease yourself fully in my eyes, answer me this: Why'd you do it? Why did you participate in such a sleeze-filled scheme, even if not participating in it meant—heaven forbid--- your exclusion from Keebler's stupid little 'gang?' Answer me that, Trunks Briefs!"
"MMMMmfffftttkkkkkkkkkkkllllllwwwrrt." Trunks left it at that.
"Sorry. Here…" The figure reached out her hand to pull the cotton wad from his mouth and brought her face into the light, confirming his suspicions.
"Pan. I knew it was you." He smiled, but saw the serious glint in her eyes as she loomed over him, using his semi-recumbent position to her greatest advantage. "Pan, I was stupid. I know I shouldn't have done it, that Keebler wasn't even worth it…"
"So you're saying if it was anyone else besides Keebler telling you to do it, you would have, and with no regrets!"
"No! No, Pan. I mean I'm sorry. Really. I did something wrong, and I guess I'm seeing the consequences of my actions."
"I guess you are. Goodbye, Trunks. See you in the final ring. And believe me, I will beat you, make no mistake about that." Pan graced him with one final look of disappointment and anger before stalking off.
"Pan, wait!" Slam. She was gone. So much for the forgiveness he had hoped for.
He had done all he could for her. He had risked his position. He had fought in the tournament for her. And this was her thanks?
&I get the drift, Pan. You think I'm not worthy of you. But we'll see about that. See you in the ring.& Trunks shook his head to clear it and sat up. His head began to swim but he stayed upright anyway. He would beat her. He would show her he wasn't another nameless no-one she could walk all over.
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Pan sighed and let her head fall back against the door after she closed it. She wasn't really angry with Trunks, at least not as much. He seemed sincere in his regret, and she had to admit she liked the guy despite his stupidity. But the nurse had said he needed to stop mooning over how he had hurt her in order to be able to recover fully. So this was the only way, she supposed.
Adversaries they now were. They were never anything more, really. They moved and associated in totally different circles. There was no hint of anything more between them. Why had she even thought there could have been?
So now Trunks was truly going to fight her. And he was going to get a very good fight. She was going to win this thing if it killed her. It was all she had left.
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One week later the crowds were once more milling excitedly in the newly refurbished CSSF stadium. The water supply was fine and dandy, the equipment was all at its best, and any further impediment seemed pretty much impossible.
The broadsword competition. The most anticipated tournament fight was now here. Pan stood tall amidst the crowd of fighters, now lessened due to many panicked dropouts. Only fifteen remained to battle for the ultimate title. Pan gazed around her carefully, recognizing all the fighters skills as she had before. She could win this. But there were two problems. Trunks, and the strange male she had noticed a week ago.
The darkish man was again dressed very simply, but his broadsword glinted with devilish beauty as he ran his calloused thumb gently along the blade. He was going to be a problem.
Pan looked over to Trunks. He was now clad in a fine, light silver armor, truly playing the crowd. He was pulling out all the stops now, wasn't he? He spun out a few techniques with his weapon, deadly grace pervading every sweep of the sword. Pan simply stood at ease, her hands crossed lightly at her belly and her feet wide apart. She wasn't going to waste energy on the crowd. They would exalt her at the appropriate time.
The superintendent stepped up to the podium for the final round and the crowd roared. They were all itching to see this end once and for all. "Take your positions!" The superintendent knew the crowd wanted no long-winded speeches right now. Pan glided over to an outer circle alongside her opponent, a tall, packed kid with heavy grey armor and a plumed helmet. --Right. This shouldn't take long.-- The kid may have been protected well, but he was sure to move slowly in such a binding iron mail. All she had to do was avoid his attacks and whack him a few times and she'd have three times as many points as him.
"Fighters," SI began,
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Both Trunks and his speedy little challenger took their starting positions.
"Begin!" The tiny blue-clad fellow shot towards Trunks, his broadsword aimed straight at Trunks' belly. Stepping to the side, He avoided the brunt of the strike, but still heard metal scraping metal. Looking down at his armor, he noticed a small nick in its side. Luckily, he wasn't hurt. But now he had to pay the guy back for the blow. And he was quick. This wouldn't be easy.
The small fighter chuckled lightly and attacked again. This time, though, Trunks was ready. He jumped up and over the small one's head and landed behind him, swinging his own sword and striking his rival in the shoulder. The force of the blow knocked the guy for a loop, sending his helmet flying out of the ring. The little one yelped loudly and fell to his knees, holding his shoulder and blubbering. Trunks raised an eyebrow and moved closer to pat him on his good shoulder. "Nice try, Juan. Better luck next-" Trunks cut off as the guy brought his elbow back, connecting with Trunks' belly. Trunks felt his entire suit reverberate with the blow, but brought the flat edge of his blade hard against Juan's now-unprotected head. Juan slumped forward, unconscious.
"Well that was fun. Who's next?" Trunks raised an eyebrow at the gorgeous woman who now entered the ring, thin, delicate sword in hand. Robed in red, her swaying form sent his senses reeling. She lifted the thin veil protecting her face and blew him a kiss. What was with him getting paired up against beautiful women?
Trunks grinned slightly, dumbfounded by her sly smiles and light, fluttering breaths. He didn't even notice when she unsheathed her sword and aimed it at a weak point in his armor.
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Sweat dripped down Pan's face. This guy was tougher than he looked. It was all she could do to avoid his attacks. There was no way she could retaliate, not now. She swung away from another attack, swiveling around behind him and backing away as he turned and advanced slowly. As she was warily watching his approach, though, her eyes focused behind him to see Trunks. He was standing stock still and drooling as he watched a scantily clad diva prance around him.
What was he doing? What an idiot! He was enamored by a pair of eyes and a ludicrous outfit. Resentment coiled in her belly, and she gritted her teeth. For some reason she again felt betrayed, but in a different way than before. It didn't make sense to her. So many thoughts were swimming through her mind, half her concentration on Trunks' battle and half on her own, and she didn't have the leisure to identify what she was feeling.
But Pan saw as the woman, holding Trunks spellbound, raised her weapon to strike. She drew in breath to yell out a warning…
And yelled instead at the shock of pain that laced through her side. Why hadn't she been paying more attention! The stupid man in front of her had landed a blow. She stumbled back, clutching her side where her armor was completely torn off. It was bleeding, but she knew she had no time to nurse her wound. This was payback time.
"That's it, bucko, you're mine." She pictured her opponent with the head of Trunks and found all the necessary anger. "Take this, you muddle-brained womanizer!" She flew at him, teeth bared and sword flashing.
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Trunks started at the yell he heard from across the stadium. His senses recovered, he saw the bare blade coming down in the woman's hand and stopped it with his own quickly and firmly. "So that's your game, is it? Clever. But it won't work on me, I'm sorry to say." Trunks knocked her weapon to the ground and drove his palm up beneath her jaw. Her frail frame collapsed to the dusty ground. Trunks averted his eyes, feeling a small guilt rise in the pit of his stomach at harming a woman in such a way. He had to do it, though.
--The competition really isn't that difficult. I can see the trophy right now!-- Trunks smirked slightly and sauntered out of the ring. --Break time!--
Still feeling a bit uneasy about drinking the tournament water, nevermind the thousands of assurances that were pushed through his mind via advertisement posters and "Water Bob" mascots scattered throughout the stadium, Trunks forwent the liquid refreshment and popped a couple energy pills in his mouth instead. It wasn't very appealing to the tastebuds, but it sufficed to block the hunger pangs he was already feeling. Wiping his soggy forehead, he bent down, settling on a hard, slippery stone bench that was supposedly supposed to allow for 'rest and relaxation.' Yeah. For Vegeta.
Lifting the pale cloth from his brow, he allowed his tired eyes to focus on the bench in front of him. It was being used as a sickbed for the meds here, often for quick stitches or a bandage here or there. He raised an eyebrow when he recognized the eyes that were now glaring directly into his.
"We have to stop meeting like this. What would your father think?" Trunks almost smiled at her facetious grin but stopped short when Pan grunted in pain. He looked down to her belly to see what was causing such an outburst…and noticed that her abdomen was completely hidden beneath restrictive white wraps.
"What have you done to yourself, Pan?" She glared up at him through a veil of agony, twisting her mouth around words that were loath to leave her writhing lips.
"Wh…what….does…..ittt….ll.l.loook like?" She cut off, squeezing her lids tightly and hugged her shoulders tightly, shivering still after the effort. Shortly afterwards, the tremors stopped. She sighed. "In case you were wondering, I'm fine."
"I was wondering no such thing. I just want you to fight me in the finals. You will be fine by then I hope?" Pan's eyes opened in what looked to be surprise, but anger quickly dominated.
"Get out of here! If all you care about is your petty little game, then I have no interest in you or your stupid desires to fight me to satisfy your superiority complex over anything female that moves!" She winced as her wound throbbed again. She went on in a quieter voice. "But be sure, Trunks, I will be up and punching before my next round, and when the finals come around, if another pretty smile hasn't beat you, I will fight you! Then we'll see who the better fighter is!" Pan's face was reddened considerably following that emotional outburst, and her body tightened, once again enduring the shaking that accompanied her wound. After they stopped, she noticed Trunks still standing over her, watching her. He held his face in an indifferent mask. She sighed. "Leave."
Trunks beat down the urge to shout out his soul and shake Pan into the truth, turning jauntily and stalking off, his own anger rising substantially. Why was this so complicated? Why couldn't things go his way just this once? Why did he hate someone he liked so much?
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Fighting continued despite the tumultuous emotions of the young. Spectators roared with each victory that pointed towards the final fight. All shifted their gazes over to the vacant central ring, perhaps imagining the amazing battle that was soon to occur therein. Fighters, too, fantasized about that attraction, seeing their glorious (and humble) acceptance of the winner's trophy, the most coveted prize in the sector.
And then the quarterfinals came. In one ring, the up-and-coming Pan Son, maiden extraordinaire, versus the indomitable Hydra, a highly skilled madman from the farthest reaches of Nantooquet. In the other, the ever-popular Trunks Briefs versus the darkish man who many said was the epitome of Death himself. His name was Darek M'vilan.
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Ah, editing is a cleansing process. Reviewing completes the process. So, ah. Yeah. Please?