Conquestum Paradisi

[stringmods]

Conquestum Paradisi

☢

What: Closing Arena Ceremonies, Part 2
Where: Aries Arena & Televised
Summary: 1/24/10AC
Warnings: This could get serious...but who knows.

Finally it was time for the mayor, Kazuki Sakahagi, to speak up. Not even an thirty minutes left to the celebrations, but seeing him go appeared to be lighting up a spark in the citizens. It wasn't too hard to see why; his enthusiastic grin and way of walking could easily melt anyone's worry away.

He walked to the center stage as cheering broke out, two men in black and Junko Tanako behind him.

[OOC - GO FORTH AND TAG FREELY]

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[hinoto_ri]

It was awhile before Kazuki managed to find any words, concentrating on getting Junko into a decently comfortable position. No, he couldn't move her, he couldn't cast a healing spell, he couldn't...

"I...yes, I'm...fine..." And, a little louder.

"Somebody get a healer over here! Don't just stand there!"

[hinoto_ri]

And someone else certainly wasn't ging to stand there, frozen. Grin vanishing like it had never been a part of him, Bunrakuken Karube snarls, bolting across the stage.

"Go, Kazuki!"

Junko would be fine. She would be. Girl's tougher than that.

And with that, he doesn't bother to waste any more words, any more time, any more thought, and barrels into his new joker-faced assailant, surrounded in a burst of supernatural fire as Bunrakuken's Persona, a grim-faced, armor-clad samurai, manifests with a cry.

[comedyandtragedy]

"Hm?"

The Tragedian didn't react fast enough, and went barreling to the ground with the Red Lion, letting out a grunt as he hit the turf, the gun flying out of his hand from the force of momentum.

The fire did a good job singing his jacket and scarf, but he didn't seem too worried to struggle away.

"I'd would've thought ya'd want to enjoy your victory a bit longer."

[hinoto_ri]

His eyes narrow, glinting with sudden, abrupt understanding that makes him pause for the briefest of seconds as he suddenly understands.

I know you.

He knows his voice.

He knows his name.

He knows him.

You goddamn son of a bitch.

His eyes widen, and something within him breaks. He can feel the anger surging through his veins along with the adrenaline. Burns worse than fire, and is as hot and furious as his name is. He does want to enjoy his victory—he's worked, waited for this for a long time, for five long years of trying to be better than just the "secondary." The Secondary Red Lion, always second place, because no matter how good he was, he wasn't strong enough yet. And he hadn't minded then, though he wanted something more. It was a goal to admire and to aspire to, and one day, he hoped that maybe, just maybe he'd earn it.

And now he has.

And hell if he'll let a two-faced bastard take that away from him, not today, because today is his, but you never win until all your opponents are down and gone, and he has one more left to take down.

Muscles in his face and neck tensing, he calls out his persona's name, Goto Motosugu, watching the stronger part of himself surge forward, all fire and bells, and glowing with a red aura as he casts a Red Break, and aiming to follow up with his blade as Bunrakuken tries to keep the man he once knew grounded.

Semi-Closed

[camoflage]

A man suddenly appears. Clothed in a short black trenchcoat, army fatigues and combat boots, with a black mask, balaclava and gloves to complete the ensemble. Where he wasn't before, he now stood behind Bunrakuken with a pistol in his hand, pushing the barrel against the base of of the soon to be ex-Champion's neck.

"Mistake."

He pulled the trigger.

[sageprincess]

Zelda, still backstage and still disguised, had come running when she heard the first gunshot (explosion? guns are a bit beyond her, honestly), but only now, as the man she had doubted is ambushed, does she emerge onto the gruesome and bloodied stage.

"No!" she cries out, because even if she doesn't know the method, killing intent is something she's familiar with, and she rushes forward. Maybe if she's fast enough, she can stop this...!

... But few things are faster than a bullet at point blank range.

[hinoto_ri]

Junko in unable to move herself but she does turn just in time to witness the grisly scene, moving just be sheer force of will.

"B-Bunrakuken!!" even screaming is painful at this point.

[camoflage]

He glanced back to see Zelda approaching, though he paid Junko no mind.

And in the next instant he was gone again as quickly as he had appeared, leaving the ex-Champion and the Tragedian behind.

[hinoto_ri]

The samurai's assault abruptly dies, manifestation shattering as soon as the bullet hits its intended target. There's a brief, sharp sensation of pain through his neck, then nothing as he collapses to the stadium floor.

Bunrakuken can feel the blood pooling around his neck, shock seeping through his system along with the anger and adrenaline already there. He chokes on a laugh as he struggles to breathe, because being shot doesn't hurt damn near as much as he thought it would. Bastard should have tried harder.

...He can't even feel anything.

...Can't even feel anything at all. No pain. No nothing.

And then, once the seconds pass, he understands why. He can't move. He can't move at all. His hands aren't working. His legs don't work. He can't get them to shift from their place because he can't, they suddenly don't exist. It's all numb. His eyes are the only thing that work, and they're probably going to quit on him too. His body's useless. It's a rug.

Shit.

And there's blood.

He can see Junko across from him, the mayor (Kazuki)—and someone else familiar.

God dammit.

This wasn't how it was—

This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

It's not over, it can't be over. He can't let them get away, he can't.

Where is that bastard? Where are they?

He won't let them go.

He needs to get up.

[sageprincess]

The disguised princess stops dead in her tracks as the unfamiliar sound of gunfire rings in her ears. It's a sound she won't be forgetting for a long while.

She's never seen such... instantaneous violence.

Distantly, she's aware the perpetrator has disappeared, aware that there's still one of his allies on stage, aware that people are screaming and fighting. But, for a moment, all she can see is blood, blood, blood...

Instinct forces her to move, though the rational part of her mind is elsewhere at the moment. Before she realizes it, she's kneeling next to the fallen Champion, magic pouring out of her fingertips, trying desperately to reverse what has been done.

"H-Hold on...!" she pleads, her mind and mouth disconnected. "It's... It's going to be all right!"

Goddesses, please, let this work!

[comedyandtragedy]

As Spades fled the scene, the Tragedian lifted himself off the ground, brushing a few parts of his outfit to get rid of the remaining ashes.

"I did warn ya," He said distantly, slowly walking over to pick up his pistol, give it a twirl and grip it in his hand again. Once that was reclaimed, he looked at Zelda and Bunrakuken, waving the pistol a bit as he spoke.

"But I'm sure that performance was more than second-best."

[hinoto_npcs]

"Hey asshole! Fuck you! Leviathan!"

A gigantic sea serpent appeared from the left, as it attacks the Tragedian with a Whirlpool attack.

He'd been watching the past few minutes. It seemed like hours really.

...Higashikuni had it all. Good money, good popularity, good women. A title that people knew him by; Blue Dragoon.

And then there was an upset this year. The one man who continued to try and faced him finally won. Bitter didn't even cover the emotional rage that had filled him that night. The girls had left him. The fans weren't interested. He was old news. All because he lost a single battle to a man he'd won five times before.

That's show business for you.

He'd been moping backstage when it happened, but it was hard to miss once that Anoli announcement started. Instead of running away, he'd walked out...not sure why he was doing it, but part of him felt like he needed to go.

It had happened too fast. He was too slow.

Looking down on Bunrakuken as he arrived, Higashikuni realized how utterly pathetic he had been about that single victory taken away from him. Girls that left him for that weren't real friends at all. True fans would stay loyal to him regardless. This should have been Bunrakuken's day and all he did was be bitter like a child.

If it had it been him, standing for that closeup that day with the mayor getting shot, he knew he would have just made a run for it to save his own skin.

"You moron! Why the hell did you have to play the goddamn hero?" He was sobbing, as he kneed and fell next to him. "D-dammit man! I was a fucking idiot! This should have been your day, you shouldn't be here on the floor!" He raised his left arm, in an attempt to cast his own healing spell on both him and the nearby Junko. "As soon as this is over, I'm making it up to you for all the shit I put you through, I swear it!"

[hinoto_ri]

He feels the warmth of the first healing spell, surprised to see the "Visitor" from before kneeling down beside him, and tries to smile, even though he can't feel or do much else besides that. He's hopeful for a moment. That maybe things will be fine, but as the seconds tick past, seconds he probably never had to waste, he realizes that things aren't going to be fine. He still can't feel his body—it's gone, there's nothing left of it to rescue. But that warmth is there. It clears his mind a little, and the bleeding slows—buys him time he might not have had, but it doesn't stop completely. Breathing's still hard and labored, indicating that there is more wrong. His body's messed up. He won't ever have it back.

Even when he hears that bastard's voice, even as his eyes track the surging maelstrom of water as it slices through the air, and feels another healing spell more desperate than the first wrap around his neck to the same lack of success, he knows now that his fate isn't going to change.

He's going to die.

Shit.

Wasn't exactly in his plans.

Damn, and he thought he wasn't scared of anything.

He laughs though, grins faintly at the man he has respected for a very long time, for all his faults. Higashikuni might have been a jackass sometimes, but he had always found him likable, in his own way, and was one hell of a fighter he had only just barely won against. And that had been how he wanted it. Made his victory a little more real, and reminding him that he could still do better. "Don't be stupid," he says. "It's still my day."

He's going to make sure it stays his, and ends on his terms, not anyone else's, though there are things he still would have liked to do. Talked to that strange visitor more. Took to the arena next year. Watch Kazuki make a fool of himself and laugh at his genuine exuberance for the job he probably should never have taken.

But for all the things he can't do, there are some things he still can.

His body might be defective now, but his mind still works, so he uses it. Tries tapping in to the well of energy that's stored there, one last time. He feels life drain from him as he forcefully calls his persona out—remembers where Leviathan's attack had gone. (Was he there?) He can only hope the break effect was still active, but it won't matter much in the end, but he has to try. And so he does.

Goto emerges in an abrupt explosion of blue energy that soon turns into fire as the sword-wielding samurai does what its user could not, not limited by earthly chains, and charges forward in an blazing eruption of fire. Though the fire contains something else, trailing energy that drifts towards those Bunrakuken recognizes as his allies, healing their wounds completely, while ensuring, when the good was done, that nothing of it is left but blazing hot spiritfire meant for the enemy who had once been a friend.

He can hold on, he thinks, as he feels his life force drained, he can wait to find out if it even worked. He can't turn his head to see, but he can wait. He still has time.

[sageprincess]

Her magic isn't taking. The wound isn't healing the way it should.

The Goddesses can't hear her prayers.

The Champion's attempted smile does nothing to reassure the Visitor at his side, and for all the stoicness and evasiveness she showed when they met, her red eyes begin to water in a naked display of grief. She shouldn't have doubted him. He's a good person. He doesn't deserve an end like this.

If only it wasn't too late.

Her head snaps up when the remaining Anoli on stage begins to taunt them, all anger and pain, but something stops her from laying into him right then and there - something more than the injured nearby.

That voice. That accent. She's heard it before.

"You...!" She doesn't have a name to put with it. Just a face and an attitude and he was right under her nose, that son of a bitch...!

The runner-up in the tournament, the "Blue Dragoon", acts before she can, however, followed by the Red Lion's last ditch attempt at justice. "Persona can grant a lot of things. You'd be surprised what some people can do with them," she recalls the Champion saying in her mind, and this close... she can see exactly why these two have been battling it out for years.

She hasn't even awoken to a persona yet. She would never be able to match them in strength. But maybe... just maybe, she doesn't have to.

After all, she doesn't need a persona to have the power of the gods at her command.

As the samurai makes his charge, Zelda stands, swallowing her grief. With balled fists, the disguised princess positions herself in front of Bunrakuken, Higashikuni, Junko, and the Mayor, her intent to defend them from the inevitable counterattack clear.

Protect the city, the man in the butterfly mask had said. And until now, she has regarded that command with resentment and frustration, considering the plight of her own country more important than acting as a soldier for some unknown force. But right now, she'll do what she can.

[comedyandtragedy]

He had to admit, the Dragoon showing up was a bit of a surprise; not something he had anticipated at least. The coward rarely showed his face unless it was to smile at the camera.

He didn't flinch at the oncoming Whirpool. When Leviathan appeared, he made a dash for Higashikuni's position, not even minding Zelda and avoiding the brunt of the attack but still getting thoroughly drenched. It didn't seem to have any effect on him than to dampen his outfit though, as he didn't so much as flinch or break pace, and once he got to Higashikuni's side, he grabbed the back of his shirt, lifted him up into the air, and slammed him back down on the ground as his own feet slid to a stop a foot or so away from his starting position.

His sniveling whining was kind of pissing him off. That certainly wouldn't kill him, but maybe it'd make him shut up.

The samurai? Now maybe that was something to worry about.

The Tragedian looked back at Zelda and Red Lion, pulling out one small, cerrated chakram in exchange for his gun if she tried to get close. If you could see his face, maybe he'd be expressing confusion as to why Zelda seems to look at him with familiarity. Maybe he had grabbed Blue Dragoon in order to put him in the line of fire of Red Lion's last attack. After the show he'd just put on, such an underhanded trick wouldn't be so out of the question, would it?

But the Tragedian remained firmly in place, planting his feet on the ground and extending his free hand forward, as he began to laugh a very cheery laugh for someone with such a sad face. It looked as if to meet the enroaching flames head on. Because he certainly wasn't trying to run away.

That is in fact, what both happened and didn't. Because once the flames got close enough, they began to shrink and condensce into a smaller shape, the tiny flames flickering right towards the Tragedian's outstretched fingers. But instead of setting his gloves or clothes alight, they started to disappear. Though that's not quite the right way to word it-- it looked as if, they weaved themselves into his gloves to get to his skin, as if he was asborbing them all into his body with barely a flick of his finger.

And it wasn't long before every last flame had made their way for his body, and every last one flickered out into non-existence as the attack was absorbed and nullified, and his laughter finally came to a close. He clenched his fist as the last few flames lingered on the outside of the fabric, and brought his hand back to his chest.

"Sorry-- But it was a good try."

[hinoto_npcs]

The crack as his body was slammed to the hard Colosseum floor was deafening. There was definitely something broken in him; a rib or an elbow he wasn't too sure. Still, he bit down the pain so hard his lips began to bleed.

Higashikuni wasn't going to let this guy get the better of him. Stupidly, he managed to crawl back to where Lion was. He did wish hell would come up and swallow him, but he wasn't going to let the madman's laughter get the better of him. It was a strange time to have a soul-changing event; worst that it was the cost of someone he should have called a friend, but never really had before.

"Yeah. You're right. It is your day...." He attempted a final, desperate healing spell, but knew nothing would come out of it even as it was cast.

"...I'm sorry for everything." He knew the other couldn't move, but had no idea if he could feel anything past this point or not from all the blood around them. Despite this, he still put one had on the left side of his chest in the traditional greeting the contestants would give each other before a combat, arm shaking from the pain. The one gesture he'd never really given much thought, just dumb routine before today.

"Fortes fortuna iuvat. It's always...been an honor to fight against you."

Too bad he'd never realized that until now.