/
Let's change his tone.
Apologies for the lateness.
/
"Huh, guess the gate really is down now, right?" Up in the air and they finally decided to cut through the whirling rags of oxygen passing around them. It was spoken through seemingly chattered teeth from the noise he heard.
"What?" They started at an adjacent side of the sphere, down below at the far reaching rock equilateral of it were his enemies. What did it matter?
"It's nothing. Never mind that." they angled themselves to point upwards. "If you got it you wouldn't be laughing." the assistant was right, it didn't seem like his type of humor. He was just gazing down at the nearest dance he would have to trip himself over the finish line with, open his wings and flutter down toward his quarry.
First flap was interrupted, he was barely even descending before he was halted by the bursting lights surrounding him, his fully rotational eyes scanned turned to every direction and the only thing found was himself staring back. Screens. Every single direction projected in every single loop, anything he focused on repeating endlessly staring at himself staring at himself on glass.
Then the music blared out. A raucous blasting noise that came along with the shrill barely restrained voice of an announcer that was barely heard through the music speaking gibberish slathering the crowd in questionable hype. He heard bits and pieces of their names but nothing more, each camera seemingly focusing on the person mentioned.
Six blue drones shaped like smushed paper airplanes fixed in the air bird bearing a large custom sniper rifle. The one he should look out for. Fit for flight, and for sniping down targets. Less animalistic in design, more of a hybrid design like an angelic figure shoved into metallics. Third gen. Blue and white color scheme.
Cut to another name with another face.
One with nothing but a buzzer, the air around the stiff pole hazing and fizzling. Like the heat around it was rushing around like blood in veins. Blazing eyes, grasping it in front of them in wait to swing. A swordswoman of old times with semi-reminiscent armor attachments to match, just with more floating attachments. It was the basics for a second gen with minimal to no additions. Very gray with hints of green.
Focusing on him and his assistant now.
Interlocking. A proper description of a custom spec. From what he could tell it was a pocket knife every man. Arsenal of weapons, all of them mediocre yet effective with their basic components boosted. Master of none supposedly better than one. Orange and white with a very bright orange streaking everywhere. It was really fat looking, clunky. The 3rd best here for being in the upper end of the 2nd gen's development lifespan, holding a large shotgun. A literal flying locker with it's bulk.
And him. An infinite loop of himself staring back. He knew what he looked like floating here in the middle of nowhere. Claws out sharp, ready to sink in. Wings open wide.
The arena's eyes and mouth opened and seemed intent on never stopping it's screaming at him to deafness. Layers upon layers of viewers surrounding the core like a cut tree's rings a small distance away, clawing down whatever coherency was in the message with each shrill voice.
So much watching, so much attention. This wasn't his field to be in, he was stuck in a box so many pupils pointed in his direction. Oh, he needed to go. Anywhere but here, fly away out of this newfound cage he willingly entered compacting, it would start compacting encircling him. Lining him up for death.
A simple bump on the field, along with the bitterly annoying panic-inducing resemblance of semi-solid air interwoven with hexagonal patterns dyed in ozone's color. The camera shots aimed at him, limited space with giggling at the painful familiarity. This was an entirely different arena from the last fight with loathing reaching all the way to his neck making every turn of his head a sluggish trial.
The internal clock in his head started sounding off. Tick. Tick. Tick. He was playing on borrowed time he had to be, and he had to use it all until the very last second. Twitching fingers vibrated slightly without his control, when everything went wrong flashed in his head. Refocus on the matter at hand, return to the assistant as everything was winding up to its start.
She was watching or would be. Observing. Wondering if his opponent could strike him down again like she did to him. Give back to her community. A simple descension of his flicker guns at his target would go, ah no. It's better to be farsighted. His role was to be revealed in this small moment of forced ego.
A single raise of one of his metallic claws and only a single point at the vicinity of his opponents, and let it slowly roll inward with inorganic metal flexing like a finger. Letting it curl up only once, an invitation.
Then instantly forced his face to burst into one of utter joy and happiness, as if he was just given a sweet treat or a favorite toy again. Oh what fun he was having! Raising his arms in the air and waving them around going on a small victors circle. Letting his claws trail around the arena watching the audience be enraptured at his small habit. Oh, maybe he should just start dancing. He was that utterly giddy. Crack a joke or two. Queen wave! Queen wave!
It doesn't matter that he was bruised or beaten not even more than a week ago, he was just grumpy with a naive itch to fight. Oh, he gets to fight in such an honorable position. Oh hey isn't he acting a bit immature? It's beginner's luck, he was on a hot streak, he knows how to use it and of course he would have an ego catching such a high caliber student off guard. It was nothing but a cheap trick.
A sudden bolt flying past his side along with the ripple of energy from its impact forced him to stop his oh so passionate ritual. What a shame. Open the eye's wide and realize the true severity of what he got into. His opponent would have him running soon, everyone would know that.
The summary hit of full kinetic discharge from a buzzing bat straight into his center of mass forced genuinity out of him. The world went stained as his shield cracked like a hammer hitting a nail deep into glass made of air forcing him into the arena wall with an olympic throw, clarity slowly regaining.
He looked up and saw the swordwoman's mouth open in a quiet unending yell, the void of noise filled with the everlasting roar of the arena at first blood intent on making its way to his ears.
It properly starts now.
Instantly twin barrages of hellfire slammed down on his general vicinity with overwhelming blue pouring over his shield nailing its way toward his head, followed by a heavy hitting piercing yellow trying its best to spike its way in, it's a cruel simultaneous rotation.
They would want to keep this momentum, the baton would regain full fizzle by now, his opponent would want him powerless and beaten, to ensure he never made her question herself more than they already did. He predicted another direct hit straight to his top center mass and let the grapple hooks slide down into the talons in a swift motion swinging them upward to latch onto his would-be attacker as they opened mid-air to grasp with a beyond iron grip expanding in shifts to their full size.
The swordswoman kept rushing forward in an unflinching attempt to land another blow, probably finding solace in the idea that the claw's would be shot away as they went for the kill. His assistant came out and finally did their job. Soaking the hail and attempting a swipe of their own on the opponent with their pocket saber before backing away with cannonade from a freshly spawned pepper gun.
Sawback tipped talons latched into the aegis of the swordswoman, edges sinking in defiance of the hard air by only millimeters. It was enough to force Fukuro's engines into their upper echelons of power whirling around a full revolution, throwing them at his opponent at full force descending his flicker guns all the while to blast them back harder.
The throw was true as they connected like a pool ball hitting another ball hard. The swordswoman's momentum was heavily stopped as his opponent was thrown to the other side of the arena at a hard pace, the swordswoman was drifting around for a few microseconds, and in those he seized the opportunity, claws flicking out, unleashing a hard bear swipe to the right as they tried to regain speed wafting about in the air in their hopeless attempt.
Another connection. An instant swat leading them closer to the wall, their engines desperately trying to grasp the air around them to avoid hitting the surface. He dove down toward them, his wings fully expanded outward, flicker guns aimed dead straight to pin her down further, his talons gaping maw's outstretched, ready to dig in again. They in turn charged straight into the baton ready to strike back as they burst forward meeting him head on.
They were forgetting to act in the 3rd dimension. He slid underneath them and diving upward latched hard onto their back, swinging them around like a mace, and slashing them hard right into the thin glass that the audience watched them through with a hard smash putting faces behind the noise. A freeze frame of motion incurred as everything went still.
A girl was sitting with her friends, face visibly going whiter than a mouse as she recoiled in horror at the sight of what would be death in any other scenario. Then she fell back, drinks and snacks spilling on her, the people close to her burst into an uproarious laughter at her reaction. This was just a game to them?
A clench of a claw and a smothering of the swordswoman into the wall. Mashing her into the blue hue like a chalk stick on a whiteboard. Cramming her into the tight space between his knives and that oh so irritating color. He burst his engines slightly over full effect while devastating the surface area of the swordswoman's shield with each and every wrathful hit. Those faces turned to blurs as they went so fast his eyes couldn't comprehend them.
This would keep going on until, until something happened, this twirling around the arena for no tactical reason. God wouldn't give him that, the swordswoman pushed her engines with everything they had exhausting all her pent up power, stopping all the force he gave for the smallest of seconds, he cringed in anticipation of the reckoning that he knew would follow. It didn't matter if he tried to block them.
Precise fire aimed directly at the focal points of his claws, busting them open allowing the swordswoman to strike him with whatever reservoir of energy they had left striking him away by a meager enough amount for them to fly away safely leaving him with a lapsing moment of peace all alone.
Tick. Tick. Tick. They never wanted to be better than him. All these eyes following the ball on its way to the goal. Entertainment, something to be consumed and used. There was no actual grasp of the severity of their potential was an academy built to train pilots, he was overdramatic, too much float-time. He had to do something, help someone.
The other one.
Who? Oh- Charlotte. Right, her. Right. What was he doing here?
Oh fuck.
Ichika reared himself upwards to see his partner in the hollow space hammered down by everything fierce, more flash photography equaling blinding bullets at rapid trajectories. More expelling of high energy into stained reality causing shattering fractals of fogginess on ever so hard air. And the person at the center of it being pulsed into unrelenting submission.
Willing his engines to draw power risking overcool he braced his claws back, readying them to pounce hard and with the mental release of a forgotten thought he burst into the melee attempting a stab into Cecelia with her barely dodging out of the way letting the edges of his claws only lightly abrade her shield.
She flew away, escalating upwards to retreat as she would only momentarily paused to re angle her drones toward her, bundling them all close together around her area, the fault that got her struck down. It was such a golden opportunity to storm and wreak havoc as his engines revved themselves in eager expectation.
Save for the small focus he gave to her superficial features in a miniscule frame of time. Eyebrows lowered and knitted together below giving a stare of hyperintensity. A side of the mouth raised. There was a forceful pull on herself, as she opened her eyes a degree too large. Mouth opening too widely as if someone were pushing a yell out of their mouth.
This was a gambit. A rug pull. Bait. Hide his experience. Hide his experience. Hide his experience. The grit of his teeth clamping down, tightening, drawing blood on a hit lip digging into the skin in between like an over compressed vice. A loosening of his restraint followed and a rocketing towards her letting the parting wind roar past him.
The drones surrounding her charged their beams at their tips, they wouldn't stop him from making contact even if they did hit, until they turned around and blue augmented light folding into knife-like ridges that were meant to pierce.
Hellfire missiles, high powered flechettes he could recognize those from anywhere. The turned light threw them at him at an unavoidable motion of six arrows clawing with the power of a beast, a faint trailing of neon behind them as they grasped hard on the air to strike him down once and for all. He had to tank it to prove his naivety. The pain would be going far beyond hurt to an agony of knowingly walking into a corroded bear trap, its spikes brittle sharpness only elevating the anticipation.
The pain came but not nearly in the same magnitude as he expected, his eyes closed in waiting for the moment to come, as blind fire pelted the entire area he was in. But not from Cecelia. It was from Charlotte. Altering the course of the projectiles and raining everyone in the vicinity with torrents of gunfire.
A subconscious look behind him revealed another attempt at a pin down Houki charging behind him from below, baton fizzling the oxygen particles around it with a visible hum of waving heat, drawn back for a finishing blow.
It was too late to change course. He charged onwards, firing his denial turrets in a vain hope of getting Cecelia just close enough to be in his clutches, somehow succeeding in grasping his target by a hair's width. The hellfire spun him around forcing him back right as he locked her in, spinning them both around, forcing his jets to release everything they had to force Cecelia into the charged bat, shattering the sniper rifle in between them into atomized dust.
The energy expelled rocketed them upwards to the top of the arena, past all the viewing onlookers, to the very center pole of the dome.
He could see the top edges of the academy from here. The brutalist design in the uncaring dull color of gray with blue streaks added in randomly in a halfhearted attempt to make the rising spires seem advanced. Then he yelled into his com blaring out his best mimic of a commanding voice oh so frequently heard in the past.
"FIRE AT WILL, FORGET ABOUT ME." Win at all costs, even of your own life. Fire away already. End it all.
No response. Just orange gunfire blazing upwards like the tip of a blazing campfire flying around in a circle like a moat caught ablaze, avoiding Houki trying her absolute best to stop her and smother her out to every last spark.
There was an introduction of a swing every once in a while to add an effect of wretched stubbornness to himself as he let his clutched prey struggle ever more, just watching her blurry outline move about in his lock.
A single second turned to a minute, only increasing exponentially as time marched on. Tick. Tick. Tick. It was almost midnight, a minute to go. How many seconds left? His opponent thrashed and shuddered only more and more like a dying animal, finding more spirit to fight back hopelessly until a booming voice came out.
CECELIA ALCOTT OUT OF COMMISSION, EVACUATE FROM THE ARENA IMMEDIATELY.
Everyone paused for a moment. Gunfire stopped, the audience ceasing to talk even to the smallest whisper. It was like someone called in a break in the middle of their fight to the death.
With a final forceful ceasing of her hostility he let her loose, as he managed to find a spot of clarity in his fogged protection. There was a haggard fly back with a small turn of the face to look at him with utter detestation, unfiltered hostility viewing him as an abomination, then a return to her bay with a simple magnetic click on her launcher, dragging her back like a shepherd's crook.
And then there were three. The arena snapped out in cheers and cries of scathing adoration, god forbid they didn't make up for that small period of quietude they had. He could see Houki's metallic fingers grasping the baton harder, shifting position by only a miniscule degree to grasp whatever they could, even if it would not be victory.
Charlotte properly shifted to aim at her. Houki tore a war path toward her, adjusting her rockets to let loose different speeds to throw off her aim, sifting through the air flashing past whatever shots were fired off, bashing her straight on.
Shoved into the forcefield, more particles parting around like electric waves crumpling in response. Houki instantly started moving on him her buzzer, instantly regathering more power each second she got closer, the air only growing hazier. Lips curled in utter observance. revealing gnashing teeth. Nose wrinkling into an animal's stance before a killing pounce. She drew her sword back and prepared to strike at him, logic would be abandoned here.
So he opted to run away, firing off his guns letting her shield absorb them happily. When Charlotte recovered she started firing off her heaviest weapons as well, slamming more fire on top of fire. Turning a campfire to a forest set assunder with a new inferno.
That's it. Victory was assured, he could get into close range but why would he? It was wrapping up and a ribbon was being put on. He put his effort into being just barely good enough.
Houki, for her part, seemed to see the writing on the wall and opted more to break it down. Charging through the gunfire directly at Charlotte, her shield greedily taking all the hits. Charlotte in turn decided to dodge at the last minute getting a light graze. The cat and mouse game started as soon as this match was ending.
It was almost embarrassing to watch. Ichika lowered the rate of his fire just to watch the dying animal writhe around. Could the announcer do something? He always hated this part of fights, masks made it easier, he just wanted to look away in the attempt to remain al-
HOUKI SHINONONO UNWINNABLE POSITION. EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY.
Oh thank god. Ichika glided over to the bay and let himself get latched on, only having a passing view at Charlotte. He didn't even want to listen to whatever announcement remained to announce their victory.
THE WINNERS OF THIS ROUND ARE-
No no. He activated his silencers subtly just to avoid the irritation letting them activate while not disconnecting. No more noises.
His mechanics planted themselves on the launcher. He would've just let his claws sink into the floor, not out of tiredness but out of- actually yes, tiredness would suit a good description. But more in the head.
Charlotte was floating nearby and he motioned for her to join him. He knew she could see him even if she had her back turned. Full rotational vision and all that. She gave a long blowing kiss to the audience with a grand spiral of victory first. Then instantly took a direct path to the launcher and waved everyone away. Ichika opted to join in.
The launcher clicked and they were brought back into the darkness at a gentle yet rapid pace, the magnesis pulling them in carefully and only giving up after it returned to its proper place.
They recalled their IS'es, letting the energy condense back into a ring and a necklace like their actions had no effects. As they walked back they encountered two students.
Right, they wouldn't be the only ones to fight. There'd be more, all the fighting wouldn't end with them. Huh, it almost felt final.
Charlotte gave a quiet smile and only gave a weak wave then instantly dropped her hand and face once they were out of sight as if it were a weight. It's happened to him before, there was a sense of fatigue in her footsteps as they seemed to drag on for eternity. Her eye twitches a lot. Guess that's just a way her body betrayed her irritation and anxiety.
They walked together for sometime back down the stairs. With her leading they went, changed clothes and got some water. Charlotte held a small amount of wincing anticipation as she held the door handle in her hand, grasping it all too tightly, reminding him of Houki's earlier last stand.
He very much was not in the mood to talk to "those" people again and she seemed to agree silently. The adoring accolades, the yells of adoration and wanting. It went against his entire view of fighting. That is what he saw in her.
"Offer still stands." It was an awkward outstretching of camaraderie, or whatever the word was.
"No." There wasn't even a moment of thought put into it, slightly slurred though. Fine by him.
"Alright." Who would he be to judge?
They split paths, him going back to his room to do something, anything. Her to do whatever she did in her free time. He needed to get rid of the pulsing in his head. .