Choose your destiny! Flawless victory! [Inevitable Tournament Arc]

[meat_mooks]

No sooner did the Obs Deck descend to Arena Planet LXIII, and the crew allowed to disembark, than they were met by a veritable cloud swarm of cameras. Sleek, elegant things that might have been living, might have been machines, maybe were even magical... but were definitely nuisances as the swooped around to capture video of the crew at all conceivable angles, close up and far away. Their every move from this point on would be on camera.

In front of a small crowd of retainers stood what appeared to be a great circular orb whose only distinguishing features were a nose, and what appeared to be the most overblown mustache ever, which actually appeared to be supporting that two-foot-diameter orb at shoulder height to a tall man. Then the orb took a couple of steps forward,revealing that no, those were actually just really, really hairy legs. A seam cracked open on the creature, and in a voice loud enough to echo across the broad open plains without any need for amplification, it bellowed, "AND NOW! STRAIGHT FROM THE TRANSMIGRATION NINE VESSEL! OUR NEWEST COMPETITORS! FRESH TO THE STAGE OF BATTLE, BUT NO STRANGERS TO WAR--"

It went on like this for some time.

Under cover of this introduction, a small man that to all appearances seemed to be the love child of Richard Nixon and a particularly aggressive Furby stepped forward, and in a bored businesslike tone recited, "Welcome to the tournament. There will be one battle per day. The arena in which you battle will be determined by random draw. Our medical crew will perform all healing necessary and ensure no deaths so feel free to not hold back. Please refrain from accepting any bribes or favors from on-planet spectators--"

"--ARE YOU READY?!" the orb bellowed even louder than before, completely swamping the smaller man's recitation. "THEN STEP THIS WAY!"

And so saying, the orb and its procession began a clearly well-choreographed procession towards a large, medieval-looking fortress that hung dramatically just on the edge of clear vision. (Conveniently, this procession passed several large advertisements.)

Comments

[meat_mooks]

Kurei rose to his feet as he landed in turn, then awaited Hana's rush once again. The boy was too stubborn to quit, and -- he was forced to admit -- had quite a fair amount of strength, to have fended off Kurenai so effectively. But now that he had stopped conjuring his own guardians, Kurei intended to beat him with his own strength.

As Hana drew closer, Kurei stepped in, reaching to seize the boy's wrist or forearm. He intended to snare the arm, then slam Hana's elbow onto his own knee and shatter it brutally. Perhaps THAT grievous an injury would show the boy his weakness.

[moms_temperment]

There was a resounding sound of a snap and scream of pain as Hana thrashed about wildly in Kurei's hold.

He'd been unable to break away from the man when he'd attacked, but thanks to his violent wriggling instead of a shattered elbow it'd resulted in a clean break of his forearm.

Hana jerked his head upwards sharply, aiming to smack his hardened temple against Kurei's jaw. He scrambled and scowled in pain like a feral animal, throwing his sword arm behind him towards his attacker, the spine covered guard rushing towards Kurei, the fearsome spikes extending at the same time to snare its prey.

[meat_mooks]

Most foes would have falled immediately from pain and shock, just as Kurei expected this boy to do. Hana's headbutt caught him off guard, and though the lower portion of his mask deflected the attack, it was still a solid hit that rocked him back on his feet.

Kurei lost his grip on Hana, and the only thing that saved him from falling to the spikes was Kurenai's intervention. The flame angel leaped between them, catching the spikes and giving Kurei time to step back and regain his balance.

[moms_temperment]

The Oversoul flared with power and Hana tossed the angel aside with his shield. Yelling, he stared slicing at Kurei with his sword again and again, no pauses, no restraint, just attack after attack, his eyes burning with anger, pain and suicidal determination.

[meat_mooks]

Kurei hastily brought up his hands to deflect the sword by slapping the flat of it away -- but he had forgotten that it was imbued with Hana's spirit, not simply a weapon. The strike chopped into his forearm violently, and he let out a grunt of pain as he dodged back.

Behind Hana, Kurenai unleashed another volley of searing-hot flame lances.