Chaos is known as the being that never became a star. It is everywhere and yet nowhere at the same time.
Neither good nor evil, the ultimate expression of nothingness. The antithesis of the cosmos, creation itself.
Although Chaos claims to be the very state of existence from which the first entities appeared, it cannot form into the entity it wants most.
So it has been cursed to stay in the form of a dark and shapeless void. Floating between existence and nonexistence.
Longingly watching as stars are constantly born and lives are lived. The seeds of malice had been planted, flourished and transformed Chaos into the purest form of evil.
The sensations could only be described as overwhelming to the unaccustomed. The scent of cigar and alcohol, mixed in with the stench of blood and sweat, perfumed the air. The sounds of cheers, jeers and cusses from the crowd that indulged in their bestial need for violence danced around the vicinity of the caged ring. Hanging bright lights from the ceiling, temporary and haphazard, in their placements illuminated the area. Within, flesh pounded against flesh, paying tribute to a form of entertainment that had been ingrained into the history of mankind since the Romans celebrated it. It used to be gladiators, fighting in the Colosseum, for either gold or freedom, a blood sport for the entertainment of the masses, bringing a sense of control to an activity that was often waged around their borders year after year. Now, it was but a simple caged ring, away from the public view, and exclusive only to the rich and powerful. Though unsanctioned and illegal on all accounts, there had always been something about money and influence that made people feel they were above the law. This was simply an example on it, how they endorsed and gambled on the fate of the fighters within the fenced hexagon.
Marius was one of such fighters. With his card now called upon, the red-haired Frenchman paced through the opened entrance of the ring. This was his livelihood, an occupation that depended solely on his ability to procure victories over his opponents. For someone who had lacked the education that the common people would receive in a city like New Paris, sources of revenue were limited to him. Besides, he had always displayed a knack for violence, even if he did not outright seek it. It put food on the table. That was good enough for him.
Marius sighed as he drowned out the sounds of the crowd, allowing himself to hop on the balls of his feet. He was clad in a plain black shorts, his hands padded with a leather glove. Crimson hair was slicked back, save two distinct rebellious strands that stuck out over his face. Golden eyes peered blankly, yet with an intense focus, towards the center of the ring. This was just another Friday for him. And if he won this fight, it would secure him for the next two weeks.
This was what his life had been reduced to, over the years, and though he carried no pride in that fact itself, he'd simply tell himself that it was how it was. This was the hand he had been dealt with, and he was going to play it to the best of his abilities. He took a deep breath, the muffled sound of the announcer piercing through his focus just enough for him to hear the introduction for his opponent. A newcomer? He blinked, curiousity getting the better of him, as his eyes wandered back towards the entrance. Who had they paired him off against this time round?
She's used to lights. Blaring, state of the art spotlights that burned her back even when they shone from the top of stadiums far away from where she stood. Bri thrived in light, in the cheers(and boos) from a crowd amassed for a single event and for a single victor and the end of it. when she stood at the podium bri wondered, is this it? is it only downhill from here?
but looking at the condition this place was in, there's no way she'd fall so low. at least for real.right now her brown locks were pulled back into a blonde wig that was braided into small buns to prevent being pulled off. her green eyes, warm as mountain fields in spring, were dyed in ice blue contacts. right now, she was tanya buchanan. she was undercover. she was getting information about how this fighting ring ran behind the scenes. she was
"hercules! GOOD LUCK LIL' LADY, YOU'RE GONNA NEED IT!"
THE ANNOUNCER'S MIC CUT OFF WITH STATIC AND THE CAGE DOOR SLAMMED BEHIND HER. THERE WERE BLOOD STAINS ON THE GROUND BENEATH THE BALLS OF HER FEET. what kind of hell-raising went on in here? would she really be okay?
yes- actually she would be okay, she reminded herself. she's had four years of krav maga training and she could bend lightning(though not here). her hands clenched against her gloves and she let a deep breath as if she had been holding it the entire time she was walking in. she lifted each of her knees to see if her kneepads were strapped too tight, and checked her elbow pads similarly. she could beat whatever poverty-sweating bub they put in front of her.
another poverty-sweating looking bub shook the cage wall behind her. "try to keep your pretty face in tact, if this whole thing doesn't work out i got another job for ya if ya need it." he adjusted his sunglasses and started to step away.
bri-or hercules at the moment, didn't miss a beat with her smile. it was bright as spotlights. "no need! just make sure to bet on me!" and she turned to her opponent. didn't look too old, but he seemed...hardy? is that the right word.
"hiya pretty boy, how about you buy me a drink if i beat you?"
"What?" Marius whispered to himself as his opponent stepped into the ring. The first thing he noticed was the fabric wrapped around the individual's chest, earning a cocked eyebrow from the red-head. A sports bra? Hold up. Almost immediately, his vision registered the rest of her person. A she? He was being made to fight a girl? The fighter known as Rouge would shift quickly towards the cage before the announcer, as he leaned against it, fingers coiling around the links of the fence. He glared down at the male. "Oi, I'm not fighting a woman," he snapped. It wasn't that he would never hit a woman. It was simply that he didn't entirely enjoy the idea of it. Of course, that was unless they attacked first, but when it came to self-defense, there wasn't really anything Marius held back on. The announcer looked back at him, before giving a shrug and a sly grin.
"You don't have to, but you won't get paid either."
Marius clicked his tongue. Great. The choices weren't entirely too appealing to him at that point. Either fight the lady, or suffer the consequence for the following week. He was already barely getting by as it were. He rested his forehead against the fence for a moment, as he shut his eyes. There wasn't really any working around it. He could, at the least, hold back a little, and try to just tire her out, or make her tap out. That wouldn't be too hard, right? He was easily superior to her in physical size and strength. He doubted, though, that she would come up here willingly to fight a male unaware of those disadvantages. Either she had a trick up her sleeve against it, or she was just foolish.
"Fine," he retorted with a frustrated huff, as he pushed himself off of the fence, turning to face his opponent, right after she had finished reacting to a rather off-handed comment by one of the audiences. He blinked, then, as she shot a comment towards him, and he simply scoffed, as he began to roll his hands by his wrists. "If you beat me," he challenged back. He didn't actually have to beat her senseless, he knew. He simply had to put up a show, and force her out via other means. Of course, he knew not at this point that he would end up paying dearly for underestimating her so.
The skin LIGHTS OFF was made by JAWN of WICKED WONDERLAND.
HALATION was created by KOJIHIME. Images belong to their respective artists. All codes and scripts belong to their respective coders. Please DO NOT take anything without the owners' permission.
