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Thread: New Peaks Academy: Paradigm Shift (IC)

  1. #11
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    How did he get himself into these messes? Of course she'd choose arena 4. It was more and more obvious, the closer he got to the docks, that she intended nothing less than to make an example out of him. Probably want to 'punish' him for not listening to her speech. He had absolutely nothing against parahumans, but that was just cruel. Shotaro may he been an asshole, but Alexia made him look like a saint, and he barely knew her. With a sigh, Junkiro arrived at the arena, and slipped through the already amassing crowd to the locker rooms. Luckily, he kept his Speedo on him at all times, just in case something happened again. It occurred to him he hadn't messaged Kyami about the situation; no doubt he had already heard from his other friends. If he had told Kyami first, no doubt he would have tried to stop the fight...and he couldn't have that. Surely he'd understand.

    As he suited up, he couldn't help but wonder if he could make a stand here. He was better than last year's beatdown, though he knew Alexia was much less likely to go easy on him than Shotaro was. Perhaps he ought to set a goal for himself...last one minute in the ring without resorting to running away. That seemed like a good start. Perhaps he could convince her to go again in the future...and use her as training while she used him as propaganda. Not a terrible idea, all things considered.

    Changing didn't take long when all you wore was a Speedo, and he was the first one out to the arena. And boy, was it packed. Not as many parahumans as he was sure Alexia wanted, but enough to make a decent amount. Most of the seats were filled by average students, probably excited to see Junkiro get pounded into a mulch on day one for a second year in a row. He couldn't blame them; he made for good entertainment when he was being made an example of. He spotted his friends and boyfriend, and he waved to them awkwardly as he got inside the octagon. The cage could provide him a minimal advantage if he stuck to it like Spider-Man, but that tail of hers could probably pick him off...he knew he was going to lose, so at this point, his goals were to last a minute and make a show out of it. Surely Alexia would appreciate him cooperating, at least.

    That was exactly what was going on, in fact. With the layout of Arena 4, the hustle and bustle of the first day of classes, and the fact that so many knew about how LAST YEAR kicked off? It was the perfect way to make an example of the reigning Freshman Champ. It was just good business. Get the fight seen by as many people as possible, look strong, and bring more publicity to The Parahuman Initiative. All she had to do was kick Junkiro's ass. A simple task, considering the fact that she was significantly stronger, better trained, and frankly... more evolved for combat. This victory would set the course for the rest of her time at New Peaks.

    Stepping out of the locker room and heading to the octagon of Arena 4, Alexia walked into the cage with a confidence unlike any other. It was plain to see that she knew exactly what was about to happen: a squash match. Did she care that her opponent had done nothing to deserve it? No. Did she care that some might think she was just being a bully? No. All she cared about was showing that parahumans belonged at New Peaks just as much as any of the 'normal' students did. If that meant she had to use force, then so be it.

    Alexia impatiently slammed her tail against the mat a few times as she waited for the judge to start the fight. ]"Yo, Mr. Overmeyer. You gonna start this shitshow or not?" Mr. Overmeyer, the gym teacher and judge for this fight, was less than amused by Alexia's attitude, but did figure it was time to get things underway. Immediately after he raised one arm and declared the match to have started, Alexia dashed from her side of the ring and pressed the attack. She would give the kid thirty seconds before he quit, a minute if it came to Mr. Overmeyer calling the fight. But a fight was won one blow at a time, and her first blow would be a heavy leg kick, aimed right for the outside of Junkiro's left quadriceps.

    Junkiro had spent a lot of his time gazing about the crowd. Some were calling for his blood; he recognized some as fellow Imperius Gloria members giving him shit, a few of them loyal followers to the Initiative. A few were even rooting for him to kick Alexia's ass; he recognized one or two from prior fights Alexia had ended a little too decisively. Most were just cheering unspecifically, probably just hoping somebody broke a leg or something, which inadvertently meant his. But as the gym teacher declared the fight open, it was clear Junkiro wasn't ready yet. Not that Alexia seemed to care. "H-Hold on a-"

    Not much of a chance to get a word out as Alexia's first attack was already coming in hot. Junkiro, obviously unprepared, danced out of the way awkwardly in a stance none would recognize from any popular fighting style. Junkiro ducked out of the way, glaring at both the judge and Alexia. "Before we get to the kicking of my ass...if you're that eager, can you at least be civil for one moment? You dragged me out here, so I at least want to do one thing..."

    Not listening to the pleas of her opponent, Alexia followed up her kick with a tail slam aimed for Junkiro's ribcage. This was a ring meant for fighting, not talking. If he wanted to talk, he should have done it before stepping into the octagon with her. She was not his friend. She was not obligated to listen. She was here for one reason, and that was to kick ass. Mr. Overmeyer considered putting things on hold momentarily, but the fact was that both of them should have clearly heard him begin the fight. It was not Alexia's fault that her foe was not prepared or ready. Still, he would take note of her blatant aggression. That kind of anger was rather unbecoming of a martial artist, and he knew it could lead to problems for everyone.

    Well, that stung. Junkiro, who already had to awkwardly hop out of the way of the first strike, was struck dead on by the second. However, instead of flying into the cage, he remained largely where he was, his arms wrapped around her tail as it stuck to his midsection. "Fine." It was a simple word. He had wanted to be friendly, to show he truly had no aggression to her or her kind, but if she wasn't willing to even spare a moment to hear him out, then why even bother? He wasn't stuck for long; he wasn't going to make the same mistake of leaving himself open again after Ethan's match had knocked him out for three months. Instead, he quickly threw her tail to the floor, crunching on top of it with his full weight before somersaulting backwards, keeping himself a moving target as he got back to his feet.

    What the hell had he- right, sticky power. But then the upstart sophomore sealed his fate by stomping on her tail as she stepped in for a follow-up hook to the jaw. The spike of pain that shot from her tail momentarily halted her attack, allowing Jun some temporary breathing room... note, temporary. With the fury of a rabid wolverine, Alexia rushed in once more. The first few times, near misses, and even a counterattack that saw Junkiro punch her in the side of the head. Thankfully she had those solid horn-like growths, or that might have turned the tide of the fight out of her favor. ... but then she led off with a stab of her tail. It was covered and only as dangerous as a fist or foot, but it was certainly more intimidating. However, she purposely stabbed AHEAD of where her foe was moving. Cut off the escape, cut down the opponent.

    She would immediately follow that up with a heavy kick from behind, attempting to hamstring the reigning Freshman Champ. He was certainly between a rock and a hard place, that was for sure. One way, he gets the equivalent of a heavy jab. the other way, he gets kicked hard in the leg. Neither option was very fun, and dodging would be extraordinarily difficult. His next action would dictate what sort of beating Alexia would rain down on him... hopefully for him, he picked the less painful option.

    Had Junkiro had a bit more ring practice in the last few months, perhaps he might have found a better solution. Had he had a little more time to spar with his friends, his fighting mind might have been a bit fresher to react to the situation. As it was, he was lucky he had gotten two strikes in on his opponent. It was obvious he was outmatched in his current state, though very few people had really given the sophomore much of a chance, given he had only just come back from a crippling injury. Regardless, his reaction times were off a little bit more than he would have liked, and he very quickly found the tail he had stepped on thirty seconds prior smacking him dead in in the face, sending the sophomore crashing into the cage.

    He wasn't out quite yet. Shaking himself back to alertness and waving off the stars in his vision a moment, Junkiro took to the one place of safety he could find. Using his ability, he scrambled up the cage to the top of the ring, just out of range of any conventional attack, and quickly scrambled atop the ring, a move that had Mr. Overmeyer smacking his forehead. He stood up high now, looking down at his infuriated opponent. He didn't know if it was the concussion talking or if he truly thought it was smart to try, but it wasn't like he was going to win one way or another. Might as well go out with an injury and a bang.

    He swung down from the top of the ring, planted his feet in the cage and...went nowhere for a brief moment as he stuck to the cage. Only after that split second's confusion did he bend his knees a bit further and spring horizontally, looking to tackle and pin his opponent, praying the misdirection was just enough to throw her off. Probably not, a voice told him in the back of his head. In fact, he was probably going to regret it. But his battle mind, dazed as it was, was prepared to face the punishment.

    The slippery little sod. He had taken the tail to the face, yet slithered out of her ground and pound trap. Initially, Alexia was downright livid as a result of the development... until she saw what the dumb bastard was doing next. Did he think this was "professional" wrestling or something? As he bent his knees to prepare for a jump, it was clear that he must have indeed thought that was the case. And worse, such a basic and telegraphed move? Seriously. A flying tackle? All she had to do was step to the side and let the kid slam into the floor of the ring at full force. Still, letting a foe defeat themselves was no fun. Time to deliver the finishing blow.

    Taking two short steps to where Junkiro lay, Alexia lifted one foot into the air and said one single word: "Loser." and with that, she brought her heel screaming downward toward Junkiro's ribcage. That was enough, and Judge Overmeyer stepped in. Placing himself between the heel kick and Junkiro, he bore the brunt of the powerful attack with nothing more than a light grunt of discomfort. Impressive, considering the foce behind the kick.

    Yeah, no wonder it was a bad idea. Junkiro groaned a bit, having landed back-first, but was quick to scramble back to his feet, only to find the judge having taken the attack that was meant for him. Junkiro scratched the back of his head. "Well. I suppose that means the match is over, then." He laughed weakly as the crowd yelled at Judge Overmeyer, chiding him for not letting him get his recompense for such an idiotic attack. It seemed the crowd wanted a more realistic second act of Junkiro Gets Into Fights. He had recalled the beating he took the first time...nothing broken, but everything was sore for two weeks...two weeks Shotaro had made him do as many physically exhausting things as possible while he was the senior's bitch.

    Junkiro sighed. "I suppose I did better than I expected." Glancing at the clock, he spotted the time: 4:07. The fight had started at 4:05. He had survived at least a minute in the ring, more than what he had been anticipating. Junkiro pumped his fist in the air. "I met my goal for the fight. I have much I am needing to learn, including shaking the rust off. Thank you for an exhilarating return to combat." He offered Alexia his hand, which he had intended to do from the very beginning, were she not so eager to pound his face in. His smile was bright.

    Right... judge interference. How quaint. More importantly, how fortunate for her opponent. That kick would likely have busted one or two ribs or even cracked the sternum if she had hit it. As she lamented the fact she hadn't done more damage, her opponent got up and tried to be the typical good guy. That was fine... humans always tried to play the good guy when they knew they were outmatched. That said, Alexia was having none of it. "Cram it, 'champ'." she said as she batted his hand aside with her tail. "You better be keeping your manners about you next time I see you, or this will happen all over again." Her peace spoken, she walked out of the octagon... whispering "And next time, no fucking judge will be able to save your sorry ass."

    Contrary to what a normal intimidated person would do, Junkiro's smile did not falter. "Looking forward to it!" Though he had a feeling this was likely to happen again. In reality, probably multiple times, if this year were to end up anything like freshman year. The arena, seemingly filled with the entire school at this point, began filing out, leaving Junkiro alone in the octagon with the friendly gym teacher. "It's obviously been a while. It's not like I could really practice." Junkiro laughed weakly, then shook his head. "Seems I still need some lessons before I can take her on realistically. I suppose that's what the upcoming year is for." Junkiro never seemed down on himself; rather, he was identifying his mistakes and what he needed to do to correct them. Pro wrestling moves had gotten him through the first year, but things were getting more serious now. He'd need to find something more to supplement his skills. He was not sure if he was speaking to himself or Mr. Overmeyer.

    "If you really want to improve, I suggest meeting me in my office after classes tomorrow." It was his only words, though he gave Junkiro a friendly pat on the shoulder as he left, letting him know he was more disappointed in the sophomore than angry. Junkiro knew the flying leap was a terrible move, but he was backed into a corner and it was all he could think of. It seemed he wanted to teach the young man something, however. Junkiro took note of his statement and walked out of the octagon, hoping to find his friends...and not get pummeled by Kyami.
    Karma is the best.

  2. #12
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    "Oh, well, if they really are in no danger, I guess if it adds to drama and tension it could make sense. " He says, following her to the Arena. He didn't say much, not wanting to annoy her, and not walking too close. She was pretty, yes, and for all his wanting to be friends, he was still a bit shy. He didn't know what to make of her, she didn't seem like a bad person, she has an ideal that she strives for, and it is good one at that. His mom always told him that he should stand for something, some sort of ideal or belief.

    At the arena, he got ringside seat, eagerly awaiting the match. A lot of people were excited, but Princeton thought overly so, some even calling for this Junkiro to be hurt. But isn't wanting someone to get hurt, bad? Isn't proving one's strength and skill by winning while causing as little damage to a foe a true test of a warrior's merit? Not that he was that good, and he knew it. e did cheer, but for Alexia to do well, rather than for junkiro to get hurt. He was vocal in his cheering, and alone, most likely. It was completely non-violent, as if what he was watching was not a legalized blood sport.

    After the fight, he went back up to Alexia. "You were really great Alexia, the best fighter I've seen so far!" He says, eyes glowing practically with excitement, and a bit of a giddy tone in his voice. "You're so cool, maybe you can teach me some things, I'm not that good...though my mom says I am, I don't see it." He says. "Are you doing anything later? Maybe we could go get something to eat. Not as a date, mind you!" He adds quickly, blushing. "But to celebrate your awesome victory. My treat."

    Spoiler: Things I like 

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    What the fuck was that last move supposed to be? Troy thought what most likely the rest of the crowd was thinking in unison, baffled at Jun's strange sort of failed flying tackle. Or whatever it was. Did he really think that'd work? Must've been pretty desperate. Nevertheless, the fight had been entertaining, and Troy had very nearly found himself cheering with the rest. The only reason he didn't was because his voice hated making loud, high pitched noises, and would crack hard if he tried to make it do so, but he still did some cheer-like gesturing now and then just to be a part of things. That tail of hers is practically cheating. Poor guy never stood a chance. Hell, maybe he was just kidding around with that retarded move. ...No, this is the guy that yelled at me for not taking a casual spar seriously. That move was just plain bad judgement. The fight came to an end with the judge blocking a blow that Troy was certain might have been a tad much on Alexia's part. She's mean. Troy had known that already, as her speech had made her basic personality apparent, but I have to wonder how bad her attitude really is. Might be interesting to find out.

    Sitting in the stands hadn't bothered Troy as much as usual, seeing as people had a tendency to focus on the fights and not converse much, although the cheering had definitely annoyed him a tad. He only really hated crowds because they made it impossible to eavesdrop on any one conversation, but even when that wasn't an issue, the noise still made it just a bit harder to hear himself think. And as a general rule, he liked quiet more than loud, if for no reason more tangible than sheer preference. So he was glad when the people with no business beyond spectating started to clear out. Should I follow their lead? I don't really have any particular reason to stay. I could talk to the scorpion, but I'd rather know what I'm getting into first. He glanced at the girl, who had already been approached by some other parahuman he didn't recognize. Looks like she's busy anyways. What about Junkiro? He looked back towards the ring, trying to ascertain whether he wanted to approach or not.

    He'd seen Vincento and that girl whose name he couldn't remember -- Pustule, or something like that. -- in the stands, and had no doubts they would talk to the champion, but they weren't yet. Said champion was talking to a teacher about something, but he didn't seem super preoccupied. What would I say, though? I could ask him about the parahuman, but I doubt he knows much. And we're not on the best terms. Troy was trying to consider this quickly, as he likely didn't have all that much time. As a sort of afterthought, he looked over at Vince. ...Or I could just go talk to Vince. Let Junkiro come to them, and therefore to me. I'll bet Vince knows something. And if he doesn't, there's still no harm in talking. Junkiro might be inclined to friendliness if he sees Vince and I on good terms. That seemed like the best bet, and so with no further hesitation, Troy stood and clambered across the stands towards Vincento, raising a hand in greeting. "'sup, Vince? Good fight, wasn't it?"

  4. #14
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    Ayame's sandals flopped against her heels as she approached Arena 4, her bag over her shoulder and towel wrapped lazily around her waist. She had heard that some freshman--no, sophomore, that would take some getting used to--already started a fight against an upperclassman. That was pretty normal at New Peaks; freshmen usually waited a day or two, a bit nervous with their new environment. Sophomores were always the ones to kick down the doors, guns blazing into the new school year. Everyone and their mothers had to know about the new moves they learned over the summer and how strenuous and back-breaking their training was. At least this sophomore took the effort to sanction the fight with a judge.

    That was so fascinating to Ayame, how these individuals registered the fight. As she stepped between the stands and scanned for a seat, she could already tell the type of the perpetrators. If they got a judge for the fight, that meant that one or both of them wanted as many people as possible to watch them defeat the other. It wasn't about winning a fight, it was about receiving the official title of "Better Than Thou" over their opponent. Surely either of them would make a worthy pursuit.

    But as she turned to sit down, the fight was already over. The freak show girl beat the other boy in little time, and Ayame was left still standing, watching the aftermath.

    Well, that was faster than expected. Her eyes followed the parahuman as she left the ring, her finger tracing slowly around her soft lips. So that's the fury of the Parahuman Initiative. What a flare she has. But why would she go through the effort to beat down a sophomore? The junior's gaze locked on the loser as he recovered, along with his little sophomore fan club. Perhaps I shouldn't count this class out of my entertainment. This could be fun.

    Leaning against the railing at her side, she smiled kindly down to the beaten boy as he also left the arena. Imperius Gloria be damned. Taking them apart is child's play compared to this..."movement."

    Thanks to Karma for the dandiest set
    Spoiler: RPs I'm in 

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    "I'll rip off your balls, tear out your eyes, then put your balls in your eye holes and your eyes in your ballsack so you can watch me kick you in the nuts ."

    Daniel had heard a lot of different insults growing up - from cusses about peoples mothers, to racial slurs like "half breed", "beast" and "monster", to full blown callouts about a persons sexual preferences. Yet, Francesca MacGregor threatening to castrate a surprised (and possibly terrified) Italian boy was undeniably amusing to the young man from the East End. Leaning back against his seat at one of the nearby picnic tables, he closed his eyes and yawned audibly, earning himself a few looks from the Imperius members nearby. "I really need to stop watching New Japan... Damn time zones make sleep impossible after a while" he muttered, noting the exhaustion in his voice before sitting up straight.

    The events of the night before were fairly routine - Daniel had managed to secure himself a new IPhone 6s, courtesy of a friend of a friend, and had been invited to a friends dorm room to watch the newest event, which in this case, was Global Wars. He and the group of friends had spent the night talking and jesting about things, and the East End boy finally came out of his shell... Until they kept asking what prison was like.

    "Is it really true that people get... Violated in the shower?"

    "Did you use cigarettes as currency?"

    "Were the female guards all sexual, like in the films?"

    The lad just shook his head and and concentrated on the TV, trying not to think about it too much - the whole affair usually brought out a significant amount of anger and frustration at the event, not to mention the fact that he usually felt ashamed when he was reminded that he ratted out his family. He continued to watch the wrestling, holding back the memories which brought him to the Academy.

    Standing up, he cracked his neck slightly before listening in on the speech by the Kensington girl, rolling his eyes at her words. "Privileged bitch... Bet she hadn't done jack shit before comin' to the academy. Daddy probably paid for her to study here, all expenses included". With a snide scowl, he headed off to the gym to continue to learn BJJ.

    Last edited by Daniel_Darkholm; 04-17-2017 at 11:49 PM.

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    Three hours later...

    Brazilian Jiujutsu was hard - like, incredibly hard. Daniel was no slouch, but even he felt exhausted by the constant grappling with his training partners, frequently getting in trouble for throwing elbows unknowingly. After the third consecutive strike to his training partner, he was pulled off by the instructor, José de la Figueroa who was less than impressed.

    "Daniel! Stop striking your opponent! This is BJJ, not boxing or karate - learn to stop impulsively throwing elbows when sparring, okay?! One more time, and God help me I'll send you to DH." With a roll of his eyes, Daniel walked away with the other trainees, who were getting changed back into their casual wear, combing back their hair and stretching their muscles to relax while the Cockney lad leaned against his locker, a dark scowl on his face from being talked down to. Noticing the looks he was getting from one of the other trainees, he instinctively raised an eyebrow and scowled, his mouth twisting up into a snarl."The fuck you lookin' at? Got a starin' problem dickweed?"

    All the conversations in the room fell silent, every trainee either gasping or backing away slightly. As it turned out, the boy from London had developed a reputation as a bit of a wildcard amongst his peers, most of the rumors stemming from Daniel's fighting prowess - in his first fight, he had effortlessly knocked out one of the better Freshman characters on campus, bringing him into a Thai Clinch and landing knees and elbows ferociously, landing brutal oblique kicks to the opponent's legs and even throwing a devastating heel kick early in the first round which brought the other fighter down. It wasn't really a fight. It was a beat down.

    Following the fight, it was found that he had shattered the other kids right orbital bone, which required cosmetic surgery to repair. Not like Daniel really cared though - these things were common at New Peaks and injuries occurred all the time. With his new found reputation, people began to challenge him fairly regularly... Each time, he dominated the fight and finished it early in the first.

    People stopped challenging him after that.

    Now, it was him issuing the fight. The other student, the one who kept staring was named Nathan Wull. He was a practitioner of freestyle and Greco - Roman wrestling, and was never one to back down judging by his C-2 ranking. Ten minutes later, the two were in the ring preparing for a fight, with Mr Figueroa overseeing the match up and a crowd forming around the ring, sitting in the seats and filling them quickly.

    "You can still back out Nate. I promise, I won't break your jaw too badly if you try and grab me" Daniel arrogantly proclaimed to a couple of laughs. He was relishing this moment, happily willing to prove to people that he wasn't playing around anymore - he was arguably the best striker in the year, perhaps in the Academy and was out to prove this.

    With the ringing of the bell, Nate quickly attempted a double leg takedown only to receive a sharp knee to the underside of his jaw for bus trouble. Enraged, he quickly rose back up and tried to get a double underhook on the English man who quickly intercepted the grab and threw a sharp elbow into the students temple, dazing him and leaving him wobbling.

    Instead of finishing the fight, Daniel turned to the crowd and began screaming at the top of his lungs. "THIS IS WHY I'M THE BEST STRIKER HERE! TWO ATTACKS AND HE'S HURT! TWO! RECOGNISE EXCELLENCE MOTHER FU-"

    He didn't finish the sentence, because Nate had recovered quickly and expertly wrapped his arms around Daniel in a vice like grip and bodily lifting him backwards and onto his head with a loud BANG. Now Daniel was the one in trouble and he was panicking. Realising that if he were to leave it too late, he would lose, the Englishman quickly slipped out of the boys grip and staggering back to his feet. Spotting the opportunity to quickly gain the upper hand, he sadistically kicked his opponent in the ribs before grabbing his left ankle and wrenching it around until he heard a sickening thud followed by an ear wrenching scream and tapping on the mat.

    "That's it! He tapped, that's it!" Figueroa screamed, pulling Daniel off. The Englishman sported a nasty bruise on his shoulder and clutched it tightly before smirking arrogantly as the medics wheeled Nate away. Content that he had made his point, he slowly made his way to the dressing rooms and headed off, bumping into Francesca MacGregor on his way out. "Nice fight mate... Didn't realise you could throw hands. I like that in a person. Hit me up if you ever want to chill out and talk." With a wink, she strode off calling out behind her "See ya around Cockney boy!"

    Daniel couldn't help the smirk of amusement on his face as he headed to his dorm room. "Today was a solid fuckin' day..."

  7. #17
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    As expected, Alexia thoroughly trounced the upstart human. But then again, did anyone really think a flying pro wrestling move would work? Of course not. This was a school for fighters, not roided-up actors. If that kid wanted to wrestle, he should have gone to a school for wrestlers, not one for martial artists. In any case, she had won and was once more soaking up adulation from her fans... mostly other parahumans, of course. A few non-parahumans who were sympathetic to her cause also joined in. Then the young... deer boy... elk... whatever he was, may as well have asked her on a date. A few nearby who overheard his proposal inhaled sharply in surprise, then turned their eyes to Alexia to get her response. Put on the spot like this, Alexia was a bit frustrated... but she had to keep up public appearances.

    "Sounds like the dog's bollocks to me, so long as you ain't looking to get in my pants. How does lunch sound this Friday? Say three o'clock at RKO's? Their wrestling gimmick is rubbish, but the food is good." the surprised onlookers were astonished. She had just accepted the younger student's proposal to go out to eat. Did that mean they were an item? The rumor mill would likely have a ball for a few days with this one. Still, she made it clear she wasn't going to let him flip her ass-over-tits and hammer her like a bent nail... so it was all good. Rumors would die as quickly as they cropped up. She would have lunch with the kid, further integrate him into the Parahuman Initiative, and maybe spar with him a bit to build his confidence in her as a strong leader. It was all going smoothly.

    Vince and the others were not surprised to see Jun lose, but just HOW he lost was... well, it was unexpected to say the least. Not often that a trained fighter takes a flying leap off of the side of a cage and into a huge counterattack. Honestly, Vince couldnt help but wonder what the hell his friend was thinking. In fact, he asked that very thing once Jun was back to his feet. "Dio, Jun. What the hell were you thinking? You had to know she would clean your clock if you did something that obvious." The Italian's tone wasnt one of frustration or disbelief, but one of genuine confusion. He legitimately had no clue what Junkiro was thinking. Why would the reigning Freshman Champ deliberately throw a fight like that? Maybe Jun wasn't as skilled a fighter as he thought. The Japanese boy had lost a measure of Vince's respect this day. Hopefully it would just be this one time.

    After some conversing and whatnot, Vince waved farewell to his friends and headed to the rec center. He had thought to get some training in, but the ring was occupied by some other sophomore who loudly claimed to be the school's best striker. After the fight's conclusion, Vince calmly and coolly walked past the other student, bumping his shoulder into the shoulder of the "best striker" and saying "Non credo, amico... but you did just meet him." as he continued to walk. With so many staff and students around, there was no way the other boy would be stupid enough to start an unsanctioned fight right then and there, so Vince was safe in that regard. Some might say he was being a bit of an asshole, but he was annoyed and didn't much care. If the kid wanted a match, he would set one up. If not, then it proved he was all talk. Vince won either way.

    Before any drama could erupt, however... an announcement rang across the campus via the PA system.

    "Attention, Students. This Friday, beginning at five o'clock in the afternoon, New Peaks Academy will be playing host to a very special event. There will be a special tournament for the schools most elite fighters, held in the Richard Alphonse III Memorial Stadium. Competing in this event will be none other than the former students who reached the illustrious ranking of S-1. All eight of these skilled combatants will be clashing not just for our entertainment and their own personal glory, but for a purse of fifty-thousand dollars. If you are unable to attend, tune your televisions to School Channel 8 to watch via CCTV. Again, we will be playing host to..." the message was repeated a couple times before the PA then clicked off and the rumors started to fly around about the S1s.

    Friday, September 1st. 3:00PM New Peaks Time

    Sitting at a table in RKO's, Alexia sipped on a glass of unsweetened iced tea. She hated drinking sweet things, as they were nothing but empty carbs. The good news, her "date" had not yet shown up. Maybe he got cold feet. The bad news, Ms. Jacobson was at a table not far away. She was once more being pestered by a student who qould not shut up about the tournament that was barely three hours away. Kinda shitty, that people wouldn't let her relax before such a big event. The price of success, Alexia figured. ahe knew it, to a degree. Plenty of folks aupported her cause and would occasional,y interrupt her while she was busy. It sucked, but it was inevitable.

    Vince on the other hand, was putting in time at the rec center. He had beaten the hell out of the heavy bag the past three days, and today was no different. Punches, kicks, knees, and elbows... he went at the bag like a man on a mission. It seemed like Jun's over-the-top move had irritated him more than most might expect. Why? He was not saying. But since that day, he was training like a madman. That is until a heavenly voice interrupted him. "Not bad, niño. Strong form, firm strikes... toned body... Santa Muerte smiles on you. She says you will go far, you know?" Who the... oh. It was none other than Victoria Fuentes, one of the S1-Rank Legends... here to compete in the upcoming tournament. Vince was stunned for a moment, not expecting her to be such a beautiful woman. Her reputation as a nearly invincible warrior had made the Italian think she would be incredibly brash... kinda like Shotaro. But at least at the moment, she seemed really polite. Huh. "What style do you practice, niño? Shotokan? Keysi? Muay Thai?"

    It seemed like the hours leading up to the tournament would be interesting indeed.
    Last edited by Salroka; 04-21-2017 at 06:58 PM.
    Spoiler: Neat Stuff Within 

  8. #18
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    Copost Courtesy of Daws (Cyst/Albert) and Beta (Vincento/Victoria)

    As she always was, Cyst was with Vince. Sitting in the corner of the room and drawing things in a sketch pad she had bought. She never had the time to do art, before. Now time was all she had. Classes were easy as sin, mostly because she didn't actually need to do that well in them, and fighting was something she would have done in her free time, anyway. So now she drew. She was rather good at it, as well. Quick hands and a naturally good set of eyes helped a lot in art. She had been thinking of showing her sketches to Vince at some point, but never really got past showing him she had the book. All of her "Soviet iron balls" (as some of her more vulgar supporters would state), and she couldn't show pretty pictures to a boy she liked.

    However, self pity would have to wait. There was a voice in the room she didn't quite recognize, and that always put her on guard. She stood up and put the pad on the floor. Face down, of course. Cyst didn't recognize her, but she knew the accent. Hispanic. Not nessicarily a warning sign, but she didn't like how much Vince seemed drawn in by it. A few steps and she was by his side, frowning. "Who're you? It was a simple question, but a calculated one. She seemed full of herself and carried herself like a fucking celebrity. Not being known would likely not make her happy, but Cyst wasn't trying to make a friend out of her.

    "Que?" asked Victoria, turning her attention to the girl with the scratchy voice. "Odd that you don't recognize me, niná. I am here for the tournament, after all. Me llamo Victoria Fuentes. Can I help you?" Victoria could barely believe it. Was the girl just a dunce? Or was her name made so obsolete by another student reaching S1 that no one cared? Both options annoyed her significantly. Still, she was having fun with these two, and tried her best to remain polite. Sure, most couldn't see the point in toying with students when she was so far above them on the power scale... but sometimes Victoria just enjoyed being a bit of a bitch.

    Vincento nudged Cyst and said "She's one of the S1-ranked graduates, here to compete for that fifty-thousand dollar prize. And no, I don't know why she is wasting time in the rec center." the appearance of his close friend seemed to snap the Italian teen out of his apparent fixation, and now he was back to being slightly annoyed. Seriously, why was she here? Not Cyst, but Victoria. Someone so skilled and renowned should not have been "slumming it" in the student recreation center. Really, she should have been somewhere signing autographs or preparing for the tournament. As such, her presence only further annoyed an already irritated Vince.

    Cyst never was one to act standoff-ish, but she had the full diva "arms crossed, hips cocked, head tilted" thing going on. Honestly, it didn't fit the girl at all, but that didn't matter. She looked at Vince when he said that the girl was an S1. Really? Her? Cyst didn't even like the idea of that, let alone the fact that he was probably right. Still, she turned back to Victoria and smiled. She didn't really feel like being nice right now, but she might as well take the opportunity...

    "Name's Cyst. C3. Krav Maga. Slumdog millionare." She shrugged. Might as well. She had no idea what a "slumdog millionare" was, but someone called her one once and she assumed it was a compliment. Either way, it was easy to tell she wasn't here because of her connections. She almost never changed out of the rags she came here in on day one. Cyst extended her hand with a smile, fully expecting Victoria to pull something dirty with the chance Cyst was giving her. She wanted to see something about this S1 girl. Something that's nagging her quite a bit...

    Slumdog millionaire? This girl? Unlikely. "Slumdog millionaire... you use that phrase, but I do not think it means what you think it means. Anyway, you two are just so cute with your banding together and standing your ground. Such solidarity pleases Santa Muerte. But I wonder just how long you will keep this up. Power is its own reward, and often changes motivations. What will you do when you get stronger, hmm?" As the deceptively polite Victoria spoke, the air around the trio grew thicker both metaphorically and literally. It was now twice as thick as normal, enough to be noticeable but not enough to be terribly uncomfortable or dangerous.

    This change did not go unnoticed by Vince, who was still slightly out of breath due to his using the heavy bag mere moments ago. Suddenly, he found it much easier to catch his breath and recover. Why this was the case, he was not immediately sure of. Regardless, it was a welcome change initially. "Vincento Sarconni. B3. Hapkido, 2nd-Dan. No, we don't need any help. Thank you, though." No point in being rude, even if he was annoyed. He knew that she could wipe the floor with both of them, had she a mind to do so... best to stay on her good side.

    Cyst had it in her right mind to slug the woman in front of her. Maybe a good cunt-punting would knock this bitch off of her high horse, but she noticed something... irregular. The girl's legs tensed as the air got thicker, almost prompting her to launch herself to the other side of the rec center to get away, but she needed to stay next to Vince. That was important. She lowered her hand and frowned before looking at the ground, a sudden flush to her face. "Cute, huh...." She muttered, taking a deep breath, as hard as that was getting. Her teeth gritted. She was just about to take a swing, but...

    He hadn't been watching long, but he knew he needed to step in right about now. He snapped his fingers and waved to the trio, breaking Cyst's concentration for just long enough to stop her from sucker punching Victoria. The man approached the three of them with a shit earing grin that shouted "I'm the shit, look at me." Given his status as one of the oldest S1's ever, Albert Bosko had earned that grin. He put his hands on his hips and took a deep breath, either not bothered by the thickness of the air or really, really good at acting. "Victoria! It's been too long. Not seen you since.... Well, your graduation!" Albert always made special trips to New Peaks during graduation season. Even while he was off training, he was making plans to go back. As he rubbed the back of his neck, his grin never faltering, Cyst automatically knew that she hated the cocky little shit.

    Of course someone would step in to ruin her fun. Just as it was getting good, too. "Ah, Señor Bosko. How remarkably cliché of you. It really is good to know the school values relics like yourself." Momentarily, the air pressure spiked to ten times normal, then quickly returned to typical levels. Victoria didn't really hate Albert, but she did find his attitude rather grating. He used to be such a badass... and then something had made him go all soft and cheerful. If it were not for that, she might even be attracted to him. Alas, he was far too upbeat to appeal to the second-youngest of the S1-ranked graduates. "I should probably let these lovebirds go anyway, as I have a tournament to get ready for. Something I would think you would also want to do. Unless you are content to throw your first match..." And with that, Victoria took her leave of the situation. There was no point in starting a fight with another S1 before the tournament, after all.

    Just as quickly as things had begun to escalate, they were defused. Vince was still rubbing his throat and fighting with the urge to cough as Victoria walked away. What the hell? Had she really used her ability to harm students? Was that even allowed? She was definitely bad news... and with an ability like that, she was downright dangerous. Vince was definitely not fond of her. The nice girl facade was nothing but bullshit. Victoria was a monster. "Let it go, Cyst... she could kill us and we all know it. And thank you, Mister Bosko. I can see now that she was toying with us. Messed up, if you ask me. What is her problem? And pardon my asking, but do you know who the hell that 'Santa Muerte' she kept mentioning is? My Spanish is awful."

    Albert smiled and waved as the woman walked away, turning back to the children when the woman was out of sight and releasing a very long held breath. "Don't worry, son. I hate her too. No respect for her elders. I just hope she can respect her betters when I whoop her ass in the tourney." He grinned and gave them a wink, rolling his shoulders. He then leaned forwards and acted like he was reaching out to grab something out of thin air. Amazingly enough, he did. A long metal staff with a single tiny lever just above a rope grip. The Weaponmaster leaned against the rod for support and sighed.

    "Santa Muerte is something I had to google for ten straight minutes before I could be satisfied that it was not, in fact, Santa Clause in a sombrero. No, it's a death goddess she and her mother worship. Some kinda weird cult that's been picking up followers like mad. I'm sure she doesn't discount the possibility that she's got something to do with that, but I'd like to think people choose better role models. Just know that if you happen to google image that shit and DO find Santa in a sombrero... don't tell her that was me." He snickered like a child, pushing off of the ground as the staff disappeared. "She's also the best Vale Tudo practitioner I know, outside of myself, and is a prize fighter when she's not, apparently, a priest. You're right, kid. She would not hesitate to kill you in a second." That was false, but he wanted to breed a little caution in them. He may think that she was mostly harmless, but he didn't want to be proven wrong.

    Cyst, on the other hand, wanted to prove him wrong. She felt a burning desire to use her power to cunt punt her at the speed of sound, but she knew that was a bad idea. One, because she would break her leg and didn't like watching tournaments from the hospital, and two, because she would break her leg and that would leave her facing an S1 with the biggest disadvantage you could get outside of not HAVING a leg. In other words, she didn't want a broken leg. That, and Vince asked her not to... "Mister Bosko... Please win. Fight her and win." She didn't like his cocky attitude, but she tried to hurt Vince. Cyst might not be able to do anything about that... but Albert could.

    A death goddess, huh? Well, that explained a few things. It explained her actions, why she said the thing she had said about Vince, and even the polite facade. "Honestly, I don't even care if you win the tournament, no offense... but I definitely want you to put her in her place. Attacking students like that is just inexcusable." With that, Vince gently slugged Albert in the shoulder and waved goodbye to Cyst. "I'm heading to my dorm to get ready for the tournament. Text me if you want me to pick anything up before we head to the stadium, ok?" He then took his leave and departed for his dorm building, all the while trying to shake off the feeling that something terrible was going to happen at the event.

    It was a gut feeling Cyst couldn't shake, either. This wasn't gonna end up being your average special event. Something was bound to go wrong, with a group as powerful and as volitile as this. She'd have to ask Timur, but she wasn't even sure if the security team could supress people like that... Oh, well. She waved at Vince and smiled. "I'll see you later. Maybe in a certain dress I just so happened to buy." A Russian never forgets, it seemed. When Vince left, Cyst was left staring at the floor with a big stupid grin on her face. It was a solid five minutes before she noticed Albert was grinning at her. "Wow... I wish I had a girl that would buy dresses to wear for me. He's lucky to have you, córka." Cyst immediately blushed and tried to come up with a rebuttle, only to end up tripping over words that never formed. She settled on angrily storming out, leaving Albert to chuckle to himself and start heading out for lunch. He hoped RKO's was still there. That was his and Anna's favorite place, back in the day. It was called "Piledriver's" back then, but the place was still basically the same.
    Last edited by Dawscombine; 04-21-2017 at 07:48 PM.

  9. #19
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    Default Co-Post between Dan and Beta.

    What Vincent didn't know as he was striding towards his dorm room, was that a certain red-haired, cocky Englishman had picked the lock to his door and waited inside, arrogantly swaggering to the kitchen and helping himself to the contents of the Italian fighters mini-fridge, grabbing himself a soft drink with a grin "Ooh, Pepsi. This lad knows his sodas..." Seating himself on a chair, Daniel pulled out his IPhone and decided to watch the highlights of the previous nights Monday Night Raw, silently judging Vince McMahon and his faith in the Samoan known as Roman Reigns - as a mark, Daniel hated the thought of better wrestlers not getting the spotlight. "Fuckin' Roman... Hope he pops his damn Achilles tendon." As he finished his sentence, the door slowly creaked open, and a shadow slowly filled the room.

    It didn't take long for the Italian Hapkido Machine to figure out what was going on.
    Back home (so to speak) after the incident at the student rec center, all Vincento wanted to do was relax for a bit before heading to the stadium. Instead, he walked in on "the best striker in school" drinking one of his sodas and being an unwanted intruder. "You've got about five seconds to tell me what the hell you are doing in my dorm, man. I'm having a rough day and your breaking and entering is about the opposite of what I want right now. Five..." Needless to say, Vince was genuinely angry. Who the fuck breaks into someone else's dorm, anyway?


    "Well, I did knock on the door for a good ten minutes... Then again, I dont think that explains why I'm here." Setting down the drink, Daniel slowly stood up and smiled that sly, annoying, and some might say punch-worthy smirk of his and offered his hand. "I'm Dan by the way. I think it's about time we were introduced properly." Noticing the Italian boy's look of fury, he warily retracted his hand and held them both up, his smirk shrinking slightly. "Look, I'm sorry for... Well, breaking your lock. It's a bit of a habit I need to break. In any case, I think we've got off on the wrong foot mate." Raising an eyebrow, Dan spoke softly, his tone uncommon for his usually confident demeanour. "You said you're the best striker on campus, right? Why do ya think that?"

    That was why he broke in? To ask a question? Vince's fury very nearly boiled over to the point where a fight erupted right inside the dorms, but instead it fizzled out completely. A heavy sigh escaped from Vince as he simply walked past Dan. "Vincento Sarconni. As for being the best striker, I am probably the best in the sophomore division. I am not so stupid to think I am the best on the island. But why I think that? Simple. Hapkido. I am a total fighter. Strikes, grapples, joint locks, pressure strikes... I do it all and do it all well." said Vincento as he stole his bottle of soda back from the intruder and flopped down on his couch. "If that was all, you can show yourself out."

    Instead of walking our of the room, Daniel instead sat next to the Italian and continued the conversation, smirking slightly as he realised the annoyance at his presence in his room. "Eh, I'm not done with my questions my Italian friend... See, as a person with total confidence in my striking abilities, it's refreshing to meet someone who could probably stand toe to toe with me in the ring." Glancing over at one of the photos on Vince's table, he raises an eyebrow slightly when he spots a photograph of Vince and a girl of Russian or Eastern European descent. Turning to the lad, he asks jokingly "This your friend? That's the girl who beat you in the semi's last year, right? She seems like a bit of a badass." As soon as he finished the sentence, his phone buzzed as a notification appeared on the screen, showing the top ten moments from the wrestling the night before. "So... I should probably hand you a couple bucks for your lock... then again, I'm broke so... I guess a verbal apology can suffice?" he asked with surprising confidence.

    What was with everyone being so interested in his personal life today? First Victoria, now this kid. Enough was enough. "Yeah, that's great and all, but if you don't get out then I'm gonna call security. Either that or snap your arm like a twig and let your cries of pain alert them for me. Yes, she is a badass. Yes, she beat me. But if you paid attention, I was fighting on a fractured pelvis at the time. Now if you would kindly fuck off, I would appreciate it." Once more, Vincento's annoyance was plain to see. Hopefully Dan would leave him alone soon and let him relax at least for a little bit. Even now, the bad feeling in the pit of Vince's stomach just would not go away.

    Realising that he should have probably opened with what he really wanted to talk about, Dan quickly blurted out his question with a hint of desperation.

    "I need a sparring partner! Or a friend... I don't know. Look, I hate talking like this, but as you probably know, I'm kind of a dick to people - ever since I was released from the cells, I've struggled to speak to people man." A look of what seemed to be loneliness passed over Dan's face before quickly being hidden by the normal stormy expression he wore when he was annoyed."Anyways, like I said, I need a sparring partner - nobody else will train with me in the gym because either A, they're not looking to get their jaw shattered or B, they fear me. You're not like them mate, and I'd seriously appreciate it if you'd at least try."

    He grabbed a pen from his letterman and pulled out an old, ragged notebook from his bag, scribbling his dorm room and cell number before heading for the door. Again, sorry for the lock mate... If you need me to fix it, I'll try but I'm kinda a shitty carpenter." And with that, Daniel headed off, bringing out the other bottle of Pepsi he had nicked from the fridge and hidden in his pocket. "Damn... This is some good Pepsi..."
    ------------

    Shotaro stood in the Rec Center, a look of fondness painted across his face as he remembered all the memories, good and bad, that he had created within the hall. Damn... I miss this place." His thoughts were interrupted by the voice of his friend Elias Palmera, the leader of Hijos de la Sabiduria and a well respected member of the academy. "It's been quiet without you Sho. Well, as quiet as New Peaks can be so to speak. It's good to see you again, even if you're not here for long." With a grin, Shotaro pulled Elias into a hug before breaking apart and taking in the sights. "There's a lot of new kids here now... Makes me feel old watching them all." With a laugh, Elias shook his head, his hair swaying as he did so. "Not really. But seeing as it's been a year, I guess everyone seems different after a while."


    As Elias finished his sentence, a red haired lad carrying a soft drink walked past a number of his faction members, who moved to another table to avoid him. Shotaro, raised an eyebrow and turned to his friend, a look of curiosity painted across his face. "Who's that? Are people steering clear of him, or am I seeing something else?" Elias nodded, his curly locks bouncing as he did so, before he and Shotaro walked towards the sofas and sat down. "That, is Daniel Donovan- three time English Muay Thai champion and up and coming sophomore. Bit of an asshole but also a skilled one... Imperious are reportedly trying to entice him into their group soon, with the Jannisarries doing the same. Way I see it, that kids dangerous. He spent a year in prison for armed robbery or something before he came here."


    With a laugh, Shotaro opened a soda from his bag and took a sip from it, before checking his phone and seeing the messages from a number of people he was known to at the school, Most of them wishing him good luck in the S1 tournament, though Sho wasn't really worried - he was supremely confident in his abilities, almost cocky to an extent. Still, he was wary about a number of the other fighters, namely Victoria Fuentes. She was one of the only people who the younger fighter felt could give him a run for his money. "Well, if she wants to win this thing, she'll have to fight me." With a smirk, he said his goodbyes to his friends and headed towards the exit, his mind echoing that statement on repeat.

    "I'm gonna win this... and nobody, nobody is gonna stop me."
    Last edited by Daniel_Darkholm; 04-22-2017 at 11:19 AM.

  10. #20
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    Default Beta and Daws helped in this one

    The Rec Center was as good a place as any to gather bits of information. That was Troy's original logic when he went there, curious about the S1 tournament beyond just what he was able to look up about it. Of course, it was not without its faults. As always, there was a good bit of noise going on, which meant no one random conversation would stand out. If he wanted to learn anything, he'd have to listen in on something in particular. It didn't seem all that difficult a task, seeing as both students and supposedly at least a couple S1s gathered there, abuzz with gossip and rumors. Worst case scenario, I find out nothing and waste a little time. May as well hear what I can hear.

    As Troy wandered about, so did his thoughts. Vince seemed busy the other day. Didn't even respond at all, just walked off after that fight. Wonder if something's up. Don't want to text him, though. With any luck, he'll be here somewhere. He searched for a bit, moving between the busy students and glancing around the room in search of someone notably more Italian than the rest of the people in the Rec, but found nothing -- except for someone else, who Troy only recognized after looking at her for a moment, having not seen her very often, or spoken to her at all. That's, uh. Growth, or something. Shit, I'll remember it one day. She's around Vince a lot. She seemed to be moving to leave the building, so there wasn't much time to make a decision. With nothing to lose, Troy started in her direction, looking to ask a few questions regarding Vincento.

    Cyst was, very noticeably, pissed off. So it was no surprise that she took great exception to seeing Troy try and stop her. Any other guy and she would have swung for his junk, but she knew Troy wouldn't do anything but ask questions. So she stopped and rubbed the back of her neck. She wasn't about to start this exchange. It wasn't exactly her area of expertise...

    She doesn't look too happy. I'll make this quick. Troy spoke as soon as he was noticed. "Yo. Seen Vince around? Uh, I haven't been able to get in touch." He paused for a moment. This was supposed to be awkward, like he knew he was bothering an angry person, so he was trying to act the part. "...It's cool if not, though. I'll find him around. I just, uh, thought you might know."

    Cyst sighed. That was it? He had left not minutes before, he didn't SEE Vince on his way here? She simply shook her head. "No. I'm leaving." With that, she made her way past Troy, moving towards one of the shoping areas around the island. She had to make plans before the tournament, and she couldn't be bothered with distractions like Troy, right now.

    "Okay, uh -- alright, bye. I guess." That was fruitless. I'll have to track him down myself. Troy rubbed the bridge of his nose in slight annoyance after the girl disappeared from the building, himself turning and walking back into a good vantage point against a far wall. Unafraid of looking odd in a room of oddball fighters, he clambered atop a bench and tried to see over everyone in hopes of spotting something interesting.

    And spot something interesting he did. The most recently graduated S1, Shotaro Yanmei, was standing around chatting with someone Troy didn't fully recognize -- he only really knew about the big names. Unfortunately, Shotaro was leaving, and he was too far away to block like he'd done Cyst. Besides, he's a big shot. Probably would just ignore me, seeing how many people try to get at him. He shrugged, nearly went back to scanning the room, then had another thought. That guy he was talking to, though. With the good hair. Looks familiar, but I'm drawing a blank. Whoever he was, Troy must have seen him in his information searching back in freshman year. No idea how to look him up again, but I'll bet he's important. Might be worth trying to strike up a conversation, if he's not as busy as that S1. Even if not, he probably knows something if he's friends with the guy.

    So once again, Troy found himself casually strolling through the rec center towards a particular target, trying to decide what he'd say when he got there. Maybe just pretend to be a fan of Shotaro's? Straight up say I noticed they were chatting? Might not respond well to that, though. Troy mulled it over as he approached. Technically he could wait a little longer, but he never wanted to risk people leaving while he thought out his approaches. That seemed to happen a lot. I could compliment his great hair, as another great hair enthusiast. ...Why did I even just consider that?

    Troy kept thinking it over, but as soon as he walked through the passing students and saw the curly-haired guy at close range, all careful consideration ceased. All that 'curls' was doing at the time was sitting on the sofa, having just been abandoned by his friend. It was nothing super conspicuous, but something about his look, his stare and his posture gave Troy the same feeling he got when he looked at Ayer, or someone else of that caliber. I get the sneaking suspicion this guy and I might have something in common. Maybe I overthought things. Mentally shrugging, but physically approaching, Troy walked right up and sat down next to 'curls' with a tired sigh, and after a short silence, made a comment. "Busy in here today. Tournament's got everyone stirred up." The comment was nothing out of place so much as the way it was said -- he was acting familiar right off the bat with someone he'd never personally met. With any luck, this'll work.

    Well, today was definitely having its ups and downs. S1 graduates everywhere, students getting caught between their egos, and now someone Elias had never dealt with personally had decided to strike up conversation as if they were acquainances. "Yeah. Just saw that Victoria lady rough up a couple sophomores before another S1 chased her off. Can't say the campus is lacking for entertainment today, that's for damn sure." Rather than brush the kid off, Elias decided to see where this went. After all, he only had this last school year left to dig up dirt on other students. To what end? Well, no one really knew. Most figured he did it just for fun. It wasn't like he acted on the info or used it against anyone. Maybe he was just an inquisitive bastard.

    "Sophomores, huh?" Kind of surprised that worked, actually. "Yeah, I've had a look at the S1s. Videos, mostly. Victoria... not very nice. Half of them are like that, actually." A short pause, to yawn. He didn't really need to yawn, but sometimes they were a good excuse to stop talking and think over the next sentence. "Maybe that's just what happens when you get really good. Ego builds, turns you like that. Or maybe it's a defense mechanism, I don't know. Not all of them do that." Another short pause. No yawn this time. Fuck it. No need to be roundabout with this guy. "You seem familiar, but I can't put my finger on it. Have we met before? Or maybe you're some big shot I'm forgetting?" Troy grinned and asked that with a humorous inflection, not wanting to come off as insulting. He might very well see right through me, though. Kind of scary. Unless I'm just being paranoid. Maybe I'm completely off the mark. Shit, isn't that a thought. Troy almost never doubted himself. He hated that he was doing it now.

    This kid was either a dunce... or pretty good at hiding his motives. "I mean, I am the current leader of the Hijos faction... so that's a thing. Should probably be a bit more aware of the changes that have happened since last year. As for meeting and familiarity, I don't recall ever meeting you. Elias Palamara. Head of the Hijos and Muay Lerdrit practitioner." Still gauging the newcomer, Elias decided to remain polite. No sense in scaring the kid off, after all. If that happened, how could he later dig into the guy's past for nuggets of dirt? Gotta at least learn a name to do that.

    Troy was calming down. He felt better that the guy was at least acting friendly, even though that didn't really mean anything. His senses had been screaming at him that somehow, he was in over his head. But fuck that. I'm never in over my head. "So that's where I'm getting it. Makes sense. I'm Troy Duncan. Heh, nothing practitioner." He considered offering his hand to shake, but decided against it for no reason. For no reason. Dammit. I always have a reason. The hell is wrong with me? No, I just need to chill. "The Hijos... de la Sabiduria, right?" He tried his best to pronounce it correctly, and without stuttering. He's the leader of the Hijos... wasn't Shotaro in charge of Imperius? Or was he just a big guy there? Why can't I remember this? Either way... Something was clicking in Troy's head. He was starting to have an idea, but it wasn't taking shape yet. He was too distracted trying to respond sensibly. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Elias. Sorry to bother you, just couldn't shake that I'd seen you somewhere." Another grin. It cracked, almost imperceptibly, but Troy gained control quickly. Yeah. I'm fine. No big deal, just another talk. Shit, I got myself all worked up for nothing.

    Still. I should get out of here. For my mental health. "Uh, I'll leave you be now. I've got something to take care of. Seeya." Not waiting for a response, Troy stood and hastily walked off. He tried to look like he was leaving out of legitimate urgency, like he'd seen something in the distance he had to get to. He really didn't like to lose his nerve, but he especially didn't like letting other people know about it. I was actually doing okay, but it wasn't a stable okay. That was not a good situation I just put myself in. He hid in a corner, as far away from everyone as possible, and tried to regain the precise control he usually had over himself. It took him a couple minutes, but he managed -- and the instant he fully recovered, the idea that had been forming completed itself in his mind. I know what I'm going to do.

    This was a bit stunning to Troy. He hadn't planned on having this epiphany so early in the year. In freshman year, he'd wandered, figuring out what he'd need to succeed and get places at New Peaks. And he'd done well enough. Coming into sophomore year, he decided he'd try to figure out where he was trying to go and what he wanted to do, and he'd spend his last two years actually doing all that. To think I thought step 2 would take me the whole year. He'd need to confirm a few things first, do a bit more digging. Maybe get Ayer helping. But the thoughts were there, and he was almost certain of what he'd discovered. He was already laying out the path ahead of him in his head. It'll be tough, but it'll work. Guess I'll start after this whole S1 tournament thing blows over.

    Having decided he'd done enough in the rec for the time being, Troy moved to leave -- only to step on something small that he hadn't noticed in his frazzled state. Luckily, he didn't step hard before he was able to pull his foot away and see what the object was; a small art pad, laying face down on the ground. He couldn't help his curiosity, and picked the pad up to flip through it, hoping its owner had abandoned it and wasn't just standing somewhere nearby. It didn't take long for him to figure out who the pad belonged to based on its contents, and a glance at the cover to read the name written there was more of a formality than anything. Right, it was Cyst. I remember now. He flipped through the book a little more, admiring the contents without trying to feel weird about it. This is really good, obvious bias aside. Like, damn. Troy could draw too, but not like that. He could sketch, and he was good enough at anatomy to spot the minute, barely existent flaws in that regard, but the detail and general form were far beyond anything he could accomplish. She draws the same guy a lot. Gee, I wonder who the Italian hunk is.

    Troy felt bad about chuckling, but he couldn't help it. Guess I'll hold onto this for now. Might come in handy. Pocketing the pad, Troy once more started out to leave the rec center, careful not to run into Elias again. That was stressful, but I got a lot out of it despite not doing much. Glad I came here today. Exiting the building, Troy traversed the groups of students entering and leaving along the path and headed towards the stadium early. May as well try to get a good spot. This ought to be an interesting tournament. Only S1s... maybe I'll grab a seat far from the arena. Just in case.

    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Nrajah was frowning.

    She didn't like frowning. Most people didn't, but she in particular hated it. Positivity, always positivity. It was a rule, for her. Laugh and smile, but never frown. Look on the bright side. It was simple and inarguable; just be happy. And yet, here she found herself, not necessarily upset so much as conflicted, but certainly not very happy either way.

    She stood outside the Parahuman Initiative, staring at the building with no intent to enter. She had heard about it on her way over for the tournament, and had spent a little time looking it up to see what it was about. Her progressive behavior at the school a decade prior had prompted people to give her all the news about how parahumans were being treated on campus once this tournament became a thing, and the Initiative, she knew, was a very recent addition. An addition that only allowed parahuman members. There was a moral conundrum there that Nrajah did not like to think about, but she had to. Was this okay? Sure, it was just activism. They weren't known for any violent protesting or doing anything harmful at all, but they hadn't exactly been around for long to judge them by. She herself had beaten a few people in the name of proving a parahuman's worth during her attendance, but they were also people who had provoked her first. People who had called her out and mocked her for who she was.

    Somehow, forming a faction seemed different. She had never taken a very directly active stance to counter the bigotry she'd been subject to when she was a student. She just overlooked, disregarded, and focused on bettering herself. She won tournaments and graduated an S1 just to prove that she could, but she never rubbed it in people's faces. She just let herself be an example. Was the Initiative going to be a good example like she was? Surely, separating the parahumans from the non-parahumans was a form of willful segregation, and that set off alarms in Nrajah's head. No, she didn't like the idea of this. Not one bit.

    Unfortunately, for the time being, there was little she could do. Maybe during the tournament, she could manage to get a message out or something, but for now she had to actually be ready for said tournament. As it was, this conflict she'd had was not good for her state of mind, and she decided it was best to put herself back in a good mood before she started fighting. Turning her back on the Initiative building, Nrajah started on a casual, calming walk around the campus, bringing the book she'd been holding back in front of her face. It was a good book, a familiar one she'd read several times, and had decided to read over once again. New books were good, sure, but sometimes it was best to stick with something reliable, that she knew she liked, for when she just wanted to feel nice and not worry too much about the plot she already knew.

    Occasionally, a curious student would approach, asking her questions, being inquisitive. Nrajah always responded the same way, being humble and maybe just a touch flirty, just to let people know what kind of person she was. It wasn't just an image; Nrajah liked to be genuine, and though she didn't like to admit it, she had a bit of an ego about being humble. It set her apart from the cockier fighters who thought the world of themselves, the hostile ones who couldn't have a casual conversation without turning it into a competition of passive aggression. People like that upset her, and she remembered in particular the other S1 that had graduated alongside her who inspired her to be that way. They were polar opposites like that; one always angry and hostile, one always happy and passive. Not that Nrajah didn't fight like a tiger in the ring, of course, she simply didn't like the aggression. And it still upset her slightly that she lost out in the end, if only barely, ranking second in the last tournaments to the more beastly S1, but she tried not to let it get to her. She had proven herself well enough, and if she was too upset that she didn't conquer one little obstacle, she could very well turn to that attitude she avoided.

    Of course, she'd heard about the other S1s, and some of them were more likeable than others. Albert, in particular, she was sure she'd get along with, and regardless of the tournament outcome, she fully intended to be as flirty as possible with the guy in what little time she had. Mike, as well, seemed friendly enough, and Greta was just the sweetest little thing, showy as she could be. Tina, she already knew all too well. And the others she wasn't so sure about. She planned to avoid them socially, if she could, but she wasn't sure what she'd do if she met any of them in the ring. Victoria, particularly. She seemed to be almost the biggest talk of them all, because everyone knew there was something different about her. Like she wasn't afraid to go a lot farther than any reserved professional fighter would.

    Nrajah tried not to think much further on that. She was determined to be in a good mood, and shut off all thought other than those of the book she was reading. It would be time to start really getting ready soon enough, and she needed to focus on putting herself in a focused, calm state of mind before that happened. This was most likely going to be the most formidable tournament she, as a professional fighter, had ever been in; New Peaks, after all, was one of the top fighting schools in the world, and almost everyone who graduated at S1 went on to be the best of the best. There weren't going to be any easy opponents here, and it was uncertain what exactly would go down. It was questionable how this tournament even got approved in the first place. Nrajah convinced herself it wasn't that big a deal -- win or lose, first round or last, she wouldn't mind. It was about the journey, the fun of fighting, the thrill she got from it. She had only started at New Peaks to control her power, after all, and to be an honor to her family. After graduating, fighting wasn't even her main focus so much as acting and academics, though she definitely remained a figure in the martial arts world. She knew she was good, but she didn't have to be the absolute best. Even so, she felt an ever so subtle sinking feeling down in her gut -- small, nearly imperceptible, but definitely there. It wasn't about fear of losing to begin with; she just couldn't help but feel this tournament wasn't going to go as smoothly as everyone hoped.
    Last edited by Standatrocity; 04-23-2017 at 05:05 AM.

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