Tethystrasza

Holidays often confused Cypherr. But then again, that was obvious for one who was confused most of the time anyway. Especially on subjects pertaining to a culture she did not know, and the social behavior of a species she didn't quite understand yet. But nonetheless she tried, and this was one of her moments. This was observation. This was research, Cypherr-style.

She perched on a rooftop, lazily laying on her stomach, her claws outstretched before her as she gazed out at decorated the shopping center. Her eyes squinted in determined concentration.

Flowers. Pink. Candy. Red. Lights.

Her ears flatted against her head, and her fur bristled. It was all a blur. A blur of color, dazzling displays, flashing spectacles, and daring advertisements. It was a fascinating thing to absorb, really. Shininess drew her attention. Color excited her. The displays and strangely shaped objects piqued her curiousity. But one thing continued to nag persistantly at her conscience. What was the reason of it all? What was the POINT of this sudden festivity? Her curiousity demanded an answer.

Her distracted thoughts were interrupted as a young couple approached the store. Cypherr strained over the roof and peered down, pressing flat to make herself smaller and more discreet as she observed them quietly. The young man led the girl to a flower stand in front of the entrance, plucking a single red rose from the display and offering it to her with a sweet smile. The girl's cheeks burned with a crimson blush, and she gladly took it, pausing to inhale the pleasingly floral scent of it's petals before stepping over to embrace him.

Cypherr's tail, which had been swaying steadily behind her, dropped instantaneously at the sight.

So THAT'S the reason.

She felt her fur unwillingly prickle, and muttered out a grumble as she rolled over onto her back, staring up at the sky as she tucked her tail between her legs. She grasped it with an irritated hand and started to comb her claws through her fur.

"Ssssstupid hyoo-mun mating seasssons."

Her eyes drifted closed with the strange, but familiar exhaustion that accompanies lonliness, her mind starting to wander as it always did. A million images started to phase in and out, as though she were sleepily watching a movie reel, flickering old images of her memories into her thoughts.

A tree. A garbage can. A toddler drawing on his bedroom walls in marker. A young man smiling down at her through silver glasses. Morgant giving her a bucket of ice cream. The young couple below her embracing. Herself perched on the railing of the tram in King's Row, her eyes lit with brilliance as she watched fireworks blaze in the sky.

Cypherr rolled over onto her side, opening her weary eyes and lifting a hand to dig into her disheveled hair. After a moment she pulled out a worn green crayon, and stared at it with a fond longing before touching it to the rooftop and drawing a large, misshapen heart on the stone. She stared down at it, as though pondering.

She took the crayon and scribbled down the middle of it, leaving the heart halved with a jagged, fault-like line.

So THAT'S the reason.

~~~~~~~~~~

"I swear to [censored], I HATE this [censored] holiday!"

Overdell lounged back on the leather couch, rubbing his temples slowly.

Clockwise, counterclockwise, clockwise...

"I [censored] mean it! I mean, it's commercialized to freaking [censored]...and it's like people don't KNOW the history. They just buy this heart and candles and chocolate and [censored]. No one freaking even KNOWS the original meaning of this holiday. They don't KNOW the bloodshed. They don't give a damn and I swear I-"

"MY GOD, JACKSON, WE [censored] KNOW!" Overdell yelled, sitting up and tossing his sunglasses irritatedly onto the coffee table next to him. "You say the same [censored] every year! WE GET IT."

"Hey, hey. No need to get moody there my friend." His friend Jackson leaned over the couch, his eyes twinkling mischeivously from behind the red tint of his goggles. "If I don't keep sayin' it, no one will. And then no one will EVER know. Generations will pass uninformed, and it'll all be lost to time. So I'm making sure it won't. I'M THE SAVIOR OF KNOWLEDGE!" He beat his chest with a triumphant fist, his proud stature poised for only a moment before he was socked agonizingly in the gut, courtesy of Overdell.

"Nice shot, D." A young, red-haired woman entered the room, slapping Jackson on the back and peering over at the notebook he was grasping, albeit a bit painfully as he coughed from the blow.

Dell leaned forward, crossing his arms over his knees with a satisfied smirk.

"Care to shut up about this Valentine's [censored] and tell me what you think of the writing, now?" he said, gesturing to the notebook.

Jackson had caught his breath, and was clutching his stomach a little painfully, but managed to squint down at the page that was open, his eyes scanning the handwriting as the woman hovered behind him.

"Yeah. S'good [censored], man. Really good. Intense. Deep. But I'm getting this weird vibe."

"Vibe?"

"Yeah. You keep mentioning this... cold or whatever and [censored]. In the undertones. And I can't figure out what the [censored] it means. And-IVY STOP LEANING OVER MY SHOULDER."

The red-haired woman behind him smirked, then shrugged and stood next to him, peering down at the page and tapping her cheek thoughtfully before speaking.

"It's very beautifully written. The timing's good, the tone, perfectly fitting. But I gotta agree with Jax, I don't really understand the point it's getting at," she said, resting her chin in her palms.

Overdell sighed, relaxing back and crossing his legs, tilting his head rather wearily onto the armrest.

"...yeah. Sometimes I don't understand it either."

They were all silent for a moment, and Dell pressed his fingertips to his temples, resuming his massaging once more.

Clockwise, counterclockwise, clockwise...

"I GOT IT! OOH! OH [censored] I KNEW IT! You LIKE someone, don't you!?"

The abrasive sound of Jackson's voice split through Overdell's mind, rudely disturbing his moment of peace.

"What? I...No. ...I don't. Why the sudden-"

"YOU [censored] LIAR! I know you. I KNOW you! Who is it? Is she hot? Have you guys had se-OW!"

Jackson was silenced again, this time from Ivy's fist, which she had implanted rather firmly into his ribcage.

"Shut UP, man," she hissed. "He said no."

"Oh, C'MON..." Jackson whined, rubbing his side with an innocent pout."It's SO obvious now, just look at how he..."

A distinct look of irritation formed on Dell's face, and he looked about to say something before a rather bewildering shout from outside interrupted him.

"AHAHAHA OH GOD YOU GUYS HAVE TO COME SEE THIS!"

Jackson abruptly turned around, dropping the notebook into Overdell's lap and yelling a reply.

"See WHAT?"

"Dude! we're pushing Valo off the quarterpipe!"

"...So?"

"...in a KAYAK!"

"OH SNAP I MUST SEE THIS!" Jackson ran off immediately and out the back door, leaving Overdell and Ivy in an an almost awkward silence. Dell pressed a palm to his face, as though in a mixture of relief and yet frustration at the same time.

After a few good moments of quiet, he broke the tension with an uncharacteristically melancholy tone.

"Have you ever...tried to do something but no matter what, you always, ALWAYS came off as an insensitive [censored]? Like every single time? Like...you were incapable of saying anything the way you wanted it to come out?"

Ivy stared down at him, her eyes flickering in thought. After a second a smile spread to her lips, and she reached over, ruffling his hair playfully.

"Hey. I know you, D. Sometimes things suck and you screw up, yeah. We all have our bad luck streaks. But I know you. You'll find a way. You always do. Just look at that for proof," she said, gesturing to the words written into his notebook. "You try your best, s'all I can say. Whatever happens, happens. Just...remember to try and think before you say things."

She turned away, taking a half-step towards the door before stopping and turning back to him.

"Think about it. Do what you gotta do."

With that, she made her way out the back door. Dell laid back in silence, his eyes boring into his cellphone resting on the coffee table. He reached over, grasping it with an almost nervous urgency and flipping it open with the flick of a thumb. He dialed a number quickly, then pressed the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"What up, Rich?"

"Aw [censored]! Dell, I wasn't expecting you to call so soon, the prints aren't ready ye-"

"That's not why I'm calling, don't worry," he chuckled.

"It's not? What's up, then?"

Overdell reached into his pocket, pulling out a photograph. A thin smile crossed his lips as he gazed at it, holding it up to the light.

"You remember that winter line shoot you were thinking of cancelling?"

"...oh, great. Remind me of that [censored] festival. What about it?"

"Don't worry, dude, I'm here to save the day once again," he smirked.

"Hm?"

"I've got the PERFECT model for you..."

~~~~~~~~~~

The chilled wind threaded through Tragic Error's ivory hair, blowing it softly away from her face. A thin sliver of moonlight pierced the alleyway, but she was hidden completely in shadow, doing what she did best. Watching.

She leaned against the cold brick wall, observing their forms. The way they writhed slowly against each other, like serpents being tamed. The way they groaned softly into one another's flesh. The way they held onto each other like the very air they breathed came from the other, and they were desperate for it. Straining to breathe.

Her lip twitched.

Tragic watched the couple kiss, buried in each other's arms, completely unaware of her presence. Completely vulnerable. Completely alone. Completely lost.

Her lips downturned into a faint, barely noticeable frown. A small crackle of electricity sparked across her skin, making her whole form bristle. In a slow, fluid movement she had unstrapped her axe, her fingers curling around the handle as the soft silver metal glinted in the moonlight.

SSSHUNK!

In a split second, the axe embedded itself into the wall behind the couple, a hair's length from splitting the woman's skull. She shrieked. Her ponytail was sliced clean off her head, and now lying in a pool of filth near the gutter. But she had no time to notice. No time to react. The couple bolted down the street, choking on the air they couldn't force into their lungs. High on fear and adrenaline and terror of a menace that wasn't even there.

Tragic stepped out from the shadows. The gentle tap of her heels echoed in the silence of night as they touched the pavement, and she made her way to the wall, extending her hand to grasp the axe. The moment her fingertips grazed the smooth metal, she paused. The image of the couple embracing in that very spot flashed in her mind. They were so desperate. So weak. So foolish. So...in love.

She sighed.

Her eyes flickered a moment, then quickly returned to her usual stone cold gaze. She wrenched the axe out of the wall and hefted it over her shoulder, turning around and disappearing once again into the dark.

~~~~~~~~~~

Namilaris stood behind the bar, staring out at the crowd. She pulled a glass out of the sink, starting to dry it with a soft white towel. Her eyes briefly lingered on the people seated at the tables before resuming her work.

Big crowd tonight.

Indeed, certain holidays always brought in more customers than most, and this was one of them. She glanced at the heart decorations and various Valentine's-day decor, which hung from the walls and other places around the room, making the atmosphere slightly more festive than usual. It took her a few hours to get it all in order, but atleast it was done. She hoped it looked nice, atleast, for all her hard work.

She bent over the sink, reaching to grasp another glass, when a sudden stinging pain struck her chest.

"[censored] OW!"

She looked downward, and found her holiday pin had unclasped, lodging the sharp tip into her breast. She frowned, reaching down and pulling it out, wincing slightly as she did so.

"Bloody pin."

Nami stared at it a moment, then decided to set it down behind the bar, lest it decide to stick her again. It was heart-shaped, and the glow it gave off from her body heat started to fade away slowly into black.

She sighed, leaning against the counter and resting her forehead against the cool dampness of the towel. It was comforting in a sense. Her eyes were a bit weary, and she welcomed a pause to close her eyes and collect her thoughts.

She saw George's smiling face in her mind.

"Thank you so much for offering to work today. I swear, NO ONE wanted to take the shift on the holiday. Romantic planning run amok lately with the girls."

He laughed, then paused, looking thoughtful.

"Oh! Yes."

He dug into his pocket, producing a small, heartshaped pin.

"Everyone on staff is going to be wearing these. Cute, yes? I thought they'd make you guys a little more festive, atleast. Gotta keep with the theme. The customers will like it."

Yeah, they liked it. They liked using it as an excuse when they got caught staring at her [censored] when she bent over to grab glasses.

Namilaris laughed slightly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. She tilted her head up, looking once more out at the crowd. They were laughing too. Laughing. Smiling. High-fiving, dancing, drinking. And most popularly tonight, passing out on the floor.

This'll be fun to clean up after.

She watched the straining faces of a hundred different people. Each coping with the bitterness, lonliness, and heartbreak of a stupid holiday. People who didn't know why they cared. People who tried their best not to let pink and flowers and fluffy love songs of a commercialized hell prod at their emotions.

But they succumbed to the lonliness, as did everyone. And this was their way of coping.

Nami poured herself a shot of tequila, raising the glass in a toast to herself. The only one who had nothing to do but scrub shotglasses on the most romantic holiday of the year.

"Happy [censored] Valentine's Day."


((Aaaand that's the short (or not) story of a few of my chars on the holiday. =P Hooray.))

As Church crossed out the team name, the sneaky form of Cypherr crawled its way along the floor on all fours, settling down with a 'plop!' in front of the bracket board. Her legs outstretched and tail swaying slowly behind her, she peered up at it, her eyes squinted in a seemingly thoughtful fashion. Her head tilted as she scanned across the shapes of letters, the words of names... and within a few minutes her form looked strained, her tail twitching about as if agitated. She probably looked quite odd to passerbys, leaning up towards the board and trying valiantly to understand at all what it meant. But her mind was hazy. She heard something about a partner before, but still didn't quite comprehend the basic structure of this tournament. After a few more minutes her tail sunk down, her ears drooping in a saddened fashion as she let out a frustrated whine.

She couldn't read the board.


Droxiin and her unruly companions had made their way, hastily, past everyone and into their room, paying no attention whatsoever to the tournament schedule or who her teammate was. The door was left wide open, carrying the rowdy noise and excitement throughout half the penitentiary, as though beckoning those with curiousity or a daring will to join in on the fun.

Droxiin had carried their card game from the boat into the building, all sitting on the floor and laughing as the game seemingly got more intense, the bets between them becoming increasingly more ridiculous. Though originally accompanied by two men, somehow, four others had appeared at her side, all bearing the same rugged, ripped, dangerous look. And one, apparently, had snuck a case of alcohol past the contest's higherups, only furthering the uproar of their game.


Tragic Error had risen from where she was hidden, her eyes darting across the names of the combatants and their pairings, seeming to register them in less than a second. Once she laid eyes on her own pairing however, she seemed to stay there for a moment, motionless, as though it was either of great fascination or great irritation to her. Her face was blank, however, as it often was, and she calmly strode her way through and past the wave of competitors, her path diligently beelining for where she had been assigned to stay.

Once she had the door safely shut behind her, she began searching every single corner of the room, down to every last object and carpet fiber, like some sort of paranoid health inspector. Every once in a while her eyes would land on the second bed in the room, flickering with a subtle hint of distaste.



((Also, yeah, Wednesdays are a no-go for me either. Sundays are kind of eh as well. I'm not too fond of it, but I'd be there if people really wanted that date. Friday works best for me.))

Cypherr had cocked her head to the side in a curious manner, ceasing her scampering and plopping down lazily at Morgant's feet, looking up with a persistant and inquisitive expression, obviously not paying attention to the order to board the boat.

"Whasss...wissshes?"


Droxiin waved off the comment with a dismissive hand, motioning to her partners and sauntering almost boredly onto the boat. All three of them made their way to the nearest open space, leaving their motorcycles suspiciously behind, and formed a triangle on the floor as they sat down. One of the men immediately pulled out a deck of playing cards, and tossed them to Droxiin. She caught them, pulling them out of the box and nimbly thumbing through the deck, a smirk on her face as she started shuffling with the skill of a trained dealer from Vegas. Their small group seemed completely preoccupied with the cards, ignoring the other boarders for the most part as she dealt them out.

"Alright, game is Texas Hold 'Em, place your bets, boys..."


Tragic Error gazed up at Church, staring blankly for a moment before speaking.

"Your answer is most appreciated. Death of combatants: allowed. Excellent."

Without another word, she silently boarded the ship, slipping past people in a cool, ghostlike manner, as if she didn't exist whatsoever and was nothing but a floating specter in the air. She swiftly made her way to the quietest, most remote corner of the watercraft where she was the least noticeable. Her eyes scanned everyone yet again as they entered, and after a moment she removed a small laptop computer from a backpack she had been carrying alongside her. She spread it out on her lap as she sat and opened it up, at once becoming completely absorbed in it as her fingertips graced the keys, only the quiet tap tap tap of her typing echoing in the air around her.

"Yesss! Yessss! Hasss beens very longs time shiny and blue! Cypherr is happies to sees yous again, yes."

After the initial pounce-greeting of her excitement, Cypherr had clambered off of the two and begun, rather enthusiastically, scampering about their feet in circles on all fours. She kicked up dust as she continued to round over and over again, a smile plastered quite energetically to her face, gurgling in an animalistic fashion.

"But Cypherr wondersss...why shiny and blue comes to big fights! Cypherr come... Cypherr not expect see shiny and blue come too!"


Droxiin only grinned at Schizo's curious comment. The two men who had accompanied her had parked their motorcycles a ways away, approaching her calmly and standing beside her own as she put down the kickstand and hopped off. They looked as though they were simply friends of hers, the way they were dressed and how they spoke. But the rigidity of their gazes as they scanned the rest of the combatants, if noticed, seemed quite strange.

Droxiin lifted a pair of black sunglasses she had been wearing, which had amazingly stayed on her face during her stunt. She surveyed the competition herself, and a confident smirk appeared on her face.

"Ah...nope. I seem very much alive. which must be of a great disappointment to many people here, cause I just KNOW some would've loved to see me fall. But I win, suckas."


Unbeknownst to all, Tragic Error had slipped, wraithlike, away from where she had once stood. She now made her way over to Church, stepping in calm, even strides. As she reached him she simply stared upwards, her face emotionless, seemingly paying no attention if anyone cared to look her way.

"...it has been observed you are perhaps an authority over one: Carlucci Combat Contest. If I may inquire, are there any rules against killing combatants within the arena?"

A pair of curious, watchful eyes peered out from above the branches of the trees nearest the dockside. The breeze of the sea ruffled her short fur, and the salty smell was inhaled into her nostrils, making her wriggle her nose in distaste. The sight of the ocean was still something Cypherr was unused to. So much vast space filled with nothing but churning waves made her a tad apprehensive, but the feeling was soon washed away as she chattered gleefully, watching the various colorful array of combatants start to arrive. She herself had already made herself comfortable on the island days before, after an exhausting and quite luck-filled search, leaving behind many a confused person wondering about the strange creature who had so persistantly asked for directions to "Abbot Stateses".

She curled her tail around a branch, easily swinging down and plopping to the ground with a soft 'thump!' on all fours. Her wide, eager eyes were attached to a pair of familiar faces she shockingly had recognized. In a blur of gray fur, Cypherr shot across the ground like a lit rocket, joyfully speeding towards Morgant. Within a few moments she collided forcefully into his side, a writhing ball of excitement as she mauled both the riders in a most overtly friendly fashion, screeching a chorus of: "SHINY AND BLUE! SHINY AND BLUUUUE!"


Down the beach, unbeknownst to the participants yet, two jet motorcycles sped along parallel to each other, crisscrossing back and forth between themselves in a stylish fashion. The bikes ran suprisingly well on the sand, but the two riders kept to the higher ground in care for their transportation nonetheless. As they cruised near to the gathering crowd, they paused just on the outskirts, their engines humming almost obnoxiously. Both the young men grinned, the sunlight reflecting almost cockily off their sunglasses as they did so, scanning their audience. They rather looked like part of a motorcycle gang of some sort, with their leather jackets and tall eyelet boots. Both had sleek, unruly black hair that wafted with the breeze. And both, most uneasily, looked like they were waiting for something.

Without warning, a third engine's shrill cry echoed throughout the air, as another motorcycle was gunned at an amazing speed down the stretch of beach, kicking up sand, dirt, and all form of debris. Droxiin launched herself off of a dangerously jagged pile of driftwood wedged under a broken crate, long since rotted by the moisture of the sea. It threw both her and the bike haphhazardly up into the air, straight over Kairaishi's little procession and quite more deliberately showoffish than Morgant's arrival. Unlike one would assume however, she did not land perfectly on the other side. Almost amazingly, and suicidally at that, she leaned her weight backwards. The entirity of the machine started to lurch upsidedown, and hang that way for a good, few, frightening moments. Any compassionate onlookers may have been mortified as they saw her nearing the ground, head aimed dead downward at a lethal angle, but with an amazing and almost desperate pressure of strength, the bike curved forward, landing on the front wheel and touching down shakily at best.

The motorcycle skidded to a halt, promptly spraying all of those within her landing area with a rude torrent of sand. Droxiin didn't seem to mind however, and whipped around with a blazing aura of triumph, a smirk on her face as she victoriously shouted at the two men, one of whom had long buried his head shamefully into his arms. The other simply leaned back, roaring with laughter.

"You SEE? You SEE? You said I couldn't do it, but I DID! THAT'S FIFTY BUCKS. Gimme. All mine. Now."


Hidden amongst the vegetation near where Cypherr once was, leaned Tragic Error comfortably against a tree trunk. Even as alert as Cypherr was, in her excitement she hadn't detected the woman cloaked so close to her perch. Tragic's eyes darted silently from combatant to combatant, making a mental log and evaluation of each person's strengths, weaknesses, and defining characteristics. It was a fairly swift process, and she shifted her legs, crossing one over the other smoothly as her gaze drifted along.

Most of their entries seemed either of the following categories: modest, casual, showy, or arrogant. Kairaishi's however, had thrust her thoughts into a bit of unwanted confusion.

Most odd procession. Carried by guards. Arrogant? Possibility. However, makeshift throne made from...trash. Trash: not usual symbol of wealth. Showy then perhaps not an option. However, guards doing labor, special treatment for individual perhaps means... procession: royal? Royalty of non-human species: possibility. Further investigation currently pending.

A small frown touched her lips as she stood perfectly still, making no attempt to unveil herself from her shadows as the group continued to swell with new and arriving members, observing their antics from a quiet, camouflaged distance.

Name: Cypherr
Level: 34
Global Handle: @Sil Rian
Archetype: Blaster
Primary: Electrical Blast
Secondary: Energy Manipulation

KsssshkssshksshCLANG!
KsssshkssshksshSSSSS...
Ksssshkssshkssh-"SKREEERK!"

Cypherr recoiled from the pile of trash she had been digging in, and began suckling most irritatedly on a gash painfully rendered across her thumb. Trash digging was routine for her, but striking glass however, was always quite the nasty suprise one might get when making a habit of scavenging.

Cypherr glared at the broken bottle which had so loathefully sliced her, emitting a gutteral, menacing growl. However, it came out more a childish gurgle than anything, as her thumb was still wedged firmly into her mouth. Her brow furrowed.

The wind picked up amongst the junkyard, unsettling the debris from it's various filthy places of rest. As Cypherr continued to tend to her injury, a lone slip of paper floated adrift on the breeze, crumpled and stained and no better nor noticeable than any other piece of trash. As it lingered and wafted in the air, it made it's careful way over to a very unsuspecting creature.

As the paper smacked Cypherr in the face, she jumped into the air like a spooked deer. It only took a fraction of a second for her brain to react however, and she lept in the direction of the offending creature, lips curled into a snarl and claws outstretched, waiting for the feel of the flesh of her assailant pinned beneath her.

WHUMPH!

Cypherr blinked. Nothing. This was odd. She looked down, a puzzled expression on her face. She slowly peeled her hands back from where she had pounced, spotting the slip of paper now rather pitifully smashed into the ground, and frowned to herself.

"Wassss not stupid hyoo-mun. Was just...papersss? Stupid papers. Sneakings up on Cypherr!"

She reached down and picked the piece up, turning it over and examining the back. As she gazed upon the invitation, her eyes grew wide with excitement.

"Preeeeeetty piiiicturesss!"

Indeed, though looking like a piece of cheap clipart to most people, Cypherr found the image amusing, and was soon giggling to herself over it's shapes. After a moment however, she squinted at the text below, staring hard to try and decipher the text. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into frustration as she tried willing herself the ability to read the entire paper. After a few moments of irritation, she took the paper inbetween her teeth and skuttled out of the junkyard on all fours.

Her feet padded along the concrete in an easy lope, as she made her way towards the more lively area of the city. Lights grew brighter and the night sky sparkled with electrical brilliance as Cypherr scurried her way into Atlas Park, her eyes searching among the shadows. Atlast after a good 20 minutes of running, she finally spotted exactly what she was looking for. She screeched a little joyful howl, and trotted up to what looked like a homeless man slumped up against a bus stop, peacefully snoring away. His bedraggled beard made Cypherr giggle as she reached over, poking him lightly in the chest with a claw.

"Hyoooo-mun. Sleepy hyooo-mun! Wakeses ups! Cypherr haves questions for you, yessss."

The man woke with a start, his eyes unfocusing for a moment before settling on Cypherrs grinning form. Her tail wagged back and forth enthusiastically, but quickly halted as the man reached for a rolled up newspaper beside him, lifting it above his head.

"YOU DANG BODY STEALERS AINT GETTIN' ME TONIGHT! I beat you dang things off thrice before and I tell ye again, ye ain't getting NONE O' MY ORGANS!"

Cypherr quickly curled up into a defensive ball as the man bopped her with the newspaper, yelling furiously in his half-awakened state. She squeaked with each hit, her tail twitching, trying desperately to communicate with him through his rain of incoherent stupor.

"EEP! No...! Cypherr not comes to-EEP! stealssss organses. Cypherr just want know ifs-EEP! hyoo-mun mights be niceses and help Cypherr-EEP! readsss pretty paper she founds with picture on it!"

The man had momentarily paused as she finished her sentence, lowering the newspaper to his side. Cypherr unfurled herself and looked up with a toothy grin, handing the invitation out to him. He drowsily grasped the note, peering down at it and starting to stroke his beard with thought.

"Well now. Right fancy piece o' paper you got here. Lessee, says..."

Most suprisingly for his state of mind, the man managed to (for the most part) correctly read the invitation word by word. Cypherr's ears twitched in interest as he read, and slowly she began to comprehend what the slip of paper meant. One word echoed within her mind.

"FIGHTSES!" she screeched gleefully, tearing the invitation out of his hands before he had even finished and sprinting down the street. She called out a 'thank yousss' as she raced, her tongue lolling out of her mouth as she panted, tucking the invitation into her hair.

"Abbot Stateses. Abbot Stateses. Cypherr finds youuusss. Finds tournament! Get to zaps more things, win lots more ice creams than even shiny gives!"

The homeless man just sat there, shaking his weary head. He turned over and laid down once more, mumbling to himself as he drifted back off into dream.

"Goin' crazy. Darn cats are startin' to talk to me..."

~~~~~~~~~~

Name: Droxiin
Level: 27
Global Handle: @Sil Rian
Archetype: Mastermind
Primary: Thugs
Secondary: Dark Miasma

Name: Droxide
Level: 12 (Most likely will hit 13)
Global Handle: @Sil Rian
Archetype: Corruptor
Primary: Fire Blast
Secondary: Radiation Emission

The smooth, heavenly sounds of guitar strings being gently plucked resonated throughout the room. They were accompanied by a harmonic voice, humming along rather pleasantly with the tune.

Dundundun
Dundundundu-SCREECH!

Droxiin winced, halting abruptly. She reached up and started to fiddle with the tuning, spending a few good, long minutes until she was satisfied. She leaned back in her chair once again, legs outstretched, cradling the guitar in her lap. She closed her eyes peacefully once more and started to play.

Dundundun
Dundundundu-"What the hell!?"

Something quite out of nowhere had prodded her shoulder, and she lept out of her melodic trance rather violently. The guitar slumped in her grip and she tilted her head upwards, groaning as she noticed a mans amused face looming above her.

"Goddamnit, Nyx. Do you always have to interrupt me?" she grumbled, standing up and fitting her guitar into the stand she had propped next to her chair.

"I do believe it's sort of become my trademark now, so yes. Yes I do." he stated with a proud smirk.

Droxiin crossed her arms, peering up at him and giving a rather pointed, mock-anger look, though the smile creeping onto her lips rather negated it."You'd better have some good news, or you're not getting supper tonight, young man."

Nyx stuck his bottom lip out in a pout and stomped the floor with a foot. "But mamaaaa!"

"Okay, seriously now."

"Right. Well..." Nyx folded his arms. "...the Drakkus caught some guy snooping around the area."

"Really now." Droxiin's eyebrows raised amusedly. "And?"

"Unit 6 decided it was best to snipe him in the [censored] and bet each other to see how far he could get while trying to run away," Nyx grinned. "Thought he was just another idiot trying to find the entrance to the temple. Sometimes I think you've trained them too well, boss."

Droxiin waved her hand dismissively, seating herself back into her chair and crossing her legs, a rather proud look on her face. "No such thing as TOO well, my dear."

"Guy actually managed to get pretty far. He dropped this." Nyx reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded slip of paper, offering it to her.

Droxiin grasped the paper and pulled it over, flipping it open with a thumb and reclining back as she scanned it's contents, her boots tapping rhythmically the floor.

"Hm. Intriguing..." she paused. "HAH! A wish? What a buncha BS. Bet it's just some poor saps trying to lure in some suckers to make a quick buck."

Nyx nodded in agreement. "That's what I thought. If someone actually had that kind of wish granting power, we'dve heard about it somehow."

"Nonetheless, though..." Droxiin rested one arm behind her head, re-folding the paper and tucking it delicately into her pants pocket, a devious glimmer in her eyes.

"Ah! I know that look..." Nyx smiled. "We're gonna go trash 'em anyway, right?"

"Yyyyup. Bogus or not, this could prove most amusing. And hey, there may be some uh. ...what's the word. 'Items of interest' we can 'liberate' from their possession?" Droxiin said with a smirk.

"HELLS yes." Nyx pumped his fist into the air, a triumphant and most excited expression on his face.

"Right, then," Droxiin stood up, dusting herself off lightly before making her way down the hall, pausing momentarily and looking over her shoulder with a smile. "Nyx, go grab Vex. You two round up the boys and pack up our gear. Tell 'em we're...going on a little road trip."

"Yes, ma'am!" Nyx ran off gleefully in the other direction.

"Mm...this gonna be some fun."

~~~~~~~~~~

Name: Tragic Error
Level: 20 (Will likely be higher before tournament)
Global Handle: @Sil Rian
Archetype: Brute
Primary: Super Strength
Secondary: Electric Armor

Tha-THUMP tha-THUMP tha-THUMP

She could feel his pulse quickening in her grasp. Good. He was frightened. MOST frightened. His heartbeat was hammering in his chest, sweat staining his clothes and dripping down onto his armor. Excellent.

There, against the wall of one of Cap au Diable's less than savory dockside homes, was a rather unfortunate Goldbricker, pinned into the wood. Tragic Error held him about two feet off the ground, uncomfortably smashed against the building, the sleek silver metal of an axe pressing into the soft flesh of his throat. Small droplets of livid blood pooled to the surface of his skin, beading down the blade. But she paid no attention. Her eyes were transfixed onto his face, cold, and emotionless.

The man choked on his words, hyperventilating, trying desperately to say something that would cause her to release her grip. But nothing seemed to work. She just continued to stare, unblinking, the blade of the axe gradually starting to press harder into his throat.

"I swear I didn't mean to shoot you! I swear! I was just...just sitting up on the rooftop looking down and the gun just went off! It was an accident! I swear! Please..."

Though, his words got him nowhere. Tragic Error was far from a fool. The man had perched deliberately on the rooftops to fire at unsuspecting creatures below, in hopes of nailing a "destined" one in the head and scoring another few pounds of candy. Tragic Error had, unfortunately for him, been the first passerby, and he grinned happily as he lined up his shot.

Mistake. BIG mistake.

And so there he was, bleeding from the neck as this woman slowly squeezed the life out of him, his gun sadly wrenched from his grasp.

He coughed, spluttering, praying that somehow she'd either release him or kill him quicker than this torment she held him in for the past 10 minutes. Suddenly however, he realized the axe wasn't pressing into his throat anymore. He opened one eye curiously, still crushed to the wall however, and saw her gaze had shifted to his pocket, where she was now rummaging in. The axe had been propped against the wall of the house, as she pulled out a piece of paper which he had been keeping. Almost instantaneously he lost his composure.

"HEY! That's mine! I found it, don't you-GGHK!"

She elbowed him hard into his stomach, silencing him almost immediately as her eyes scanned the document. As soon as she had read and processed it all, her head lifted, her eyes once more meeting his own. With a small scowl, she silently pivoted on her feet, grasping him by his rocket-pack. With an amazing amount of strength, she lifted him and threw him in a wide arc, his body flailing pathetically as he sailed through the air over the docks, landing with a large SPLASH into the murky water.

"...Blurble..."

Tragic Error grasped the handle of her axe with her free hand and hefted the blade to rest on her shoulder. Still clutching the paper, she continued to stare at it as she slowly walked off, her heels clicking on the pavement.

"Concept of wishing seems...ridiculous. Though event may prove promising, if only for data collection."