trans_9 | To the victor go the spoils [Semi-open]

The arena was vast and raucous, its seats not only cramped but exorbitantly expensive for the typical inhabitant of Epicurea, with even the seats set farthest from the staging area easily costing a full day's wages. It was also packed solid.

Huge holographic screens were projected high into the air above the arena itself, depicting each match (especially the end) with gruesome, crystal-clear detail. Not a drop of blood was spared, not a millimeter of shattered bone was missed, and everything was on display at multiple angles to allow the spectators the fullest extent of the experience.

The observer's box that they were now approaching was as ostentatious as they'd come to expect from their host, luxuriously decorated with fine cloth curtains, plush carpeting, absurdly cushioned seats, and a delicately carved, intricate railing that appeared to be made out of some no doubt ludicrously expensive precious metal. It was a stark contrast to the simple stone benches the other observers were afforded. And of course, their host's pterosaur was once again present at the top of the box: a tethered, living reminder of its owner's exalted status.

As Anwei and Howard were ushered onto the balcony and seated, workers were already busy scrubbing the stage clean of the loser of the last match -- or what was left of him, which by now was only a blue-black smear on the ground. They had arrived just in time for the short intermission before the next match would start.

All viewers, place your bets.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

How about some warning there, Zouichi?

She quickly transfers the reins to one hand and grabs Howard, slipping and then getting a grip on his slimy clothing. She hauls him behind her - fortunately the saddle is elongated, probably so a lady can drape her skirts along it elegantly. Anwei's skirts are wrapped around her waist in a frou-frou bundle as she hangs on with her bare knees.

She starts when Zouichi simply leaps up to them, then recovers. "Both of you, strap yourselves in and hang on!"

She pulls the reins determinedly, forcibly pointing the beast's bill at the arena's rim, where it can (hopefully) launch and get them to the spaceport. She spares a quick glance for the overhead screens; none of the cameras seem to be focused on them. Instead they showed static or random scenes of slaughter from the arena floor. And the leaping dinosaurs were starting to take notice of them, shuffling closer with toothy grins.

Howard yelps in surprise when he's tossed up into the air, but in retrospect it was probably efficient for Zouichi not to warn him. He's glad Anwei isn't all that attached to the dress, because after he straps in he wraps his arms around her waist and holds on like his life depends on it, and that leaves a delightful bracky smear down the back of it.

He does get a glimpse of his watch beneath all the muck, though. They have time, they could still make it. But it's cutting it close.

He tucks his knees up as much as he can, away from the leaping dinosaurs.

He thought you were ready, Anwei!

Zouichi straps himself in, preparing for the ride. Yep. Now would be a good time.

The pterosaur was frightened enough of the predators snapping at its tail that it was quite prompt in clawing up the curve of the arena's seats and launching into the sky, flapping hard to get away from the screams and smells.

"Don't let my hat blow off, the Orb's in it!" Anwei yelled, the wind whipping her words away. The city spread out under them, the streets throning with people and dinosaurs, every rooftop (of course) glittering. But there were no pursuers, so far as she could see.

Fortunately this mount must have been used to flying to the spaceport, because with only a little coaxing it turned and headed for it. They soared quite illegally through the restricted airspace and came down only a few meters from the shuttle. They could hear an alarm going off inside.

"Quick!" Anwei shouted, undoing the flight strap with one hand and getting out her candies with the other; as soon as the others were off, she'd throw the candies and hope the pterosaur wouldn't be caught in the engine backwash.

Howard's off the pterosaur almost before it touches the ground, eager as he is to get away from dinosaurs of any kind. He limps as quickly as he can to the shuttle, throwing open the door and grabbing his med kit even before he sits down. He hopes Anwei or Zouichi can steer it, because he certainly can't and they're not going to make it back with the autopilot.

"Jesus fucking christ, let's just get the hell off this planet!"

Zouichi is the last to jump off the animal and onto the plane; it looks like it's taking Anwei's bait, at least.

Once inside, he takes a seat and straps himself in. Anwei knows how to pilot this thing; he doesn't. "Are we going to be able to steer a pregnant brick back in time?"

"We've got time. Barely."

Her fingers slammed onto the controls. There was no time to taxi or call for clearance; she was going up, fast, and would just have to hope she didn't fry anyone.

The alarm was joined by a second one; fuel levels low. The shuttle wobbled dangerously as it fought to rise, on the brink of tumbling; she pointed the engines in vaguely the right direction and poured on the fuel. The shuttle rose, not fast enough, still wobbling, sloshing-

"Special delivery!" she shouted, and slapped the button for Rear Cargo Hatch Open. She unhanded the controls for a precious instant, grabbing the straps she hadn't fastened with both hands. And in a tumbling slithering flood, two hundred gallons of bagged Stacy slop went flying out, floating through the air like improbably translucent bats before landing and splattering the Glimmering Prosperity pavilion with a priceless layer of goo.

It was an improvement over the glitter, at least.

The wind slammed around them, then was silent as she closed the hatch. With the weight gone the shuttle turned fast, cracking through the atmosphere like a whip. Silence as they reached space. The great black-green mass of Stacy ahead of them. Almost there, almost there...

Howard's stench of mass grave is soon joined by the smell of rubbing alcohol as he drenches his skinned knees and the puncture wounds on his foot. There is no way he's ever going to feel these wounds are sanitized after the bath in filth he took. He can't even reach or see the extent of the cut on his shoulder, though it seems to have stopped bleeding. Or possibly the back of his shirt is so drenched in slime he can't tell.

He's too angry and residually scared to even be relieved when they dump the slop and get into space. He won't believe he's out of this nightmare until he's back on Stacy. Not that Stacy isn't nightmarish in her own way either.

He gives a tired glance to his teammates, wanting to simultaneously remind Anwei that she nearly got him killed with her plan and thank Zouichi for saving his life. He ends up saying nothing, returning to swabbing his foot with more stinging rubbing alcohol.

"I hope they choke on that and die," Howard says, looking out the window and unable to think of anything more scathing. The utter loathing in his voice should be enough.

To the victor go the spoils [Semi-open]

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