festivals and mur--ahem, investigations 🎊🔍

[beleos]

COMMUNION WITH YIMA

After given some time for recovery and for Yima to hear reports of what transpired at the Tree of Life last month, a Communion message gently flows through the minds of each Shard-Bearer. They will have to choose to accept this message, and once they do, they will be greeted by Yima’s voice resonating pleasantly in their heads. She first apologizes for their harrowing experience with the Dryad, and that she hadn’t anticipated such a violent reaction from the Tree; she believes that their experiences point to an imbalance within the Tree itself, most likely brought about by the soon-to-come arrival of the Oracles.

She has spoken with Cyrus, and they have jointly decided that an investigation into the matter - and potentially the destruction of the Dryad - may be required to purge its influence from the Tree. Yima requests that any who would willingly seek out the Dryad volunteer to do so and will be outfitted with a ward against any tampering to prevent them from falling into the creature’s clutches a second time. It will take her a bit to fashion enough of these wards - but she anticipates being ready toward the end of the month.

She concludes her message with another heartfelt apology for your suffering, that she would not have sent any into such a situation she believed were truly dangerous. That being said, she takes responsibility for your ordeal and asks that if there is anything she can do in recompense, you have but to ask.

Yima will be available for Communion chatter here!

FESTIVAL OF REMEMBRANCE - HIGHSTORM

Takiltu is a month cycle the natives of Kenos regard with some amount of reverence and a hearty helping of excitement: the first part of the month (November) is spent reflecting on and celebrating the differing cultures and worlds each Kenosian represents. The second part of the month (December) is spent celebrating unity and togetherness, to come together with friends and family, to be kind to others and share in one’s wealth - whether that comes in the form of knowledge, monetary gains, or the exchange of gifts and one’s time.

Each city celebrates differently, the flavor of their festivals a reflection of their people.

In Highstorm, the first thirty days of Takiltu are spent in Remembrance. The city is decorated with string lights, paper lanterns, candles, and torches to illuminate the streets in beautiful colors and shimmering magical illusory shapes. The focal point of the festival takes place in The Court, where the reflecting pool has been especially decorated with arrangements of flowers and lights. Festival stands erected around the Courtyard peddle paper lanterns as well as refreshments, fanciful decorative items, and enchanted jewelry that is said to make one’s recollections of the past temporarily clearer.

The pool itself is the main attraction, here; citizens who approach its waters and gaze into its depths will find its normal abilities to reflect memories enhanced. The images are surreal for their clarity, vivid - and normally, one is requested to look into the eyes of those most precious to them whose souls remain lost, to pay homage to their memory and sacrifices, and to wish them rebirth in the new world to come. A purchased lantern is then lit and sent skyward where it floats into the moonlight, joining the others hovering above.

But this year, there is an addition to the usual fanfare. Emet-Selch has been asked to assist with the festival; as long as he is given permission, he can recreate the memory displayed in the reflecting pool. Yima has granted him a temporary blessing which enhances his natural creation abilities - a gift for their people she is grateful for. Your character can choose what it is they see in the water - whether it’s a place, a person, or the feelings of a certain point and time, he will temporarily recreate it around you. Everyone will be able to see this conjuring and interact with it while it is functional. It will last between 15 to 30 minutes before dissolving into beads of light that slowly trickle skyward before disappearing. You’ll be told to light a lantern, send it adrift, and that this will give peace to the part of you and your Shard that surely aches. But does it…?

Elsewhere in Highstorm, the High Theater has been painstakingly decorated and aglow with magical floating motes of light; the interior has been transformed into something of an Art Gallery. The pieces within are dedications to parts of worlds long gone, as well as the people in them; some are beautifully painted landscapes of exquisite, far-away places beyond the imagination. Some are more mundane and familiar snapshots of life in a home world not too different from your own. There are portraits of families, loved ones, and those the Zenites long for most. This is their time to mourn, to grieve, and to appreciate their pasts - the pasts that will lead them to a brighter future, one day. They must move on into the future, but treasuring that which came before is equally important to them.

Should you touch any of the motes of light that are around the art pieces decorating the Gallery, you will find yourself able to feel, hear, see, and taste a piece of the world the piece represents. Some of these are warm gatherings over a dinner table with family; others are heart-wrenching expressions of loss and bitterness and pain. Be cautious which you choose. Oh, and do be careful not to stand too closely with someone else when you touch one, or one accidentally touches you - the experience is absolutely contagious through Communion.

CELEBRATION OF CHERISHMENT - SPRINGSTAR

While Highstorm’s Festival of Remembrance is a more demure and reflective time, Springstar takes a much different approach to the season. In true Meri nature, the Celebration of Cherishment encapsulates celebrating life in all forms - and that means parties! The Psychagogía is the main hub of excitement considering, but festivities can be found in almost every single district of Springstar. Wherever you go, something is happening and someone is trying to rope you into having a good time.

The city has been decorated with bright and colorful multi-purpose magical ivy-like vines that sprouts buds that bloom over the course of the month into gorgeous flowers. These flowers are considered sacred, and their blooming is a momentous time of joy and good fortune. Each flower is left intact; disturbing one is tantamount to a war crime by the natives, so don’t get observed if you try to pluck one!

The Psychagogía is incredibly lively, teeming with people and events; almost every venue is peddling some kind of ‘Cherishment’ celebratory sale or discount. The first portion of the month includes what the locals call “the meri-ment” (and seem quite chuffed about that pun), in which Kenosians are encouraged to go bar hopping and taste the wide variety of specialty ales and liquor unkegged only around this time of year. Participants are highly encouraged to share stories of their worlds and cultures, to tell those they mingle with tales of the worlds they will one day return to and why they’re special, unique - to celebrate their one-day return.

Alongside this comes a great deal of outdoor grilling, fresh meats and vegetables sending tantalizing scents everywhere you go once the evening hours arrive. Some of these food and drinks can cause… interesting… effects if you consume them in excess, especially at the Emotional Damage - so try to show restraint. It would be a bit embarrassing to find yourself strangely infatuated with the first person you lay eyes on after your fifth night out on the town, or feeling compelled to express warm feelings aloud you wouldn’t normally commit to another. Luckily, it only lasts a short period of time - but beware the wicked hangover afterward. Strangely enough, if you’re suffering, you feel oddly compelled to seek out a little TLC from someone else - someone with whom you might have some unresolved feelings toward, positive or negative. Is it longing? Anger? Jealousy? Unspoken affections? Love? Whatever it is, you're more likely to seek them out for some care.

At the Coliseum, nightly brawls between Meris take place and the usual assortment of monsters are temporarily taken out of offer. This part of the festivities is one where each Kenosian is encouraged to settle any differences or misgivings with others and to get it out of their system, cleansing them of bad mojo - “leave it in the ring,” as it were. Despite beating each other bloody at times, most combatants willingly stop before it gets too serious and fighting to the death is not permitted. You must embrace your adversary before you leave, and your ‘bad blood’ will be considered purged and settled so you can start anew.

The Empório district is celebrating consumerism, because of course it is! All the usual goods are on a considerable discount, and for a brief time, gardening tools and supplies are free! The reason for this is that Springstar’s citizens are encouraged to plant one seedling in the gardens in Katoikitikós once the flowers lining the city have gone into full bloom. It is said this honors gods across cultures and time as well as invites good fortune. You are encouraged to plant a seedling in a group or pairing, as space is limited - and there are superstitions regarding this togetherness resulting in more favorable results. Should you plant a seedling with someone else, you might indeed find that something is beginning to blossom between you… Based on your Aspects, you might find yourselves feeling closer and more connected - or repulsed depending on your compatibility. This effect will last through the month after planting. Should you check on the seedling later, its health will be reflected in the state of your relationship. Friends will find the little plant thriving; enemies will find it is sickly and dying.

For those Shard-Bearers who have already harmonized with the Meridian or who have quarters in Heliopolis, you will find the communal meals much more lavish and indulgent than usual. There may even be a taste of home waiting for you among the spreads on offer, or some comfort food you haven’t had in a while. It is encouraged to share anything to your taste - or even to share why it is meaningful to you via Communion. Or you can just eat. You do you, man.

Once the flowers have bloomed and the festivities reach their peak, one might find the city loud and boisterous and sleep a little more difficult to come by. Springstar is absolutely thriving and alive - and you, too, feel more invigorated and energetic despite any lack of zzz’s. Should you leave the city, however, this effect will vanish and you might find yourself unnaturally fatigued and in need of more rest than is customary. Returning to Springstar will slowly build up your stamina again. This effect lasts until the end of the month.

THE MYSTERY OF ALENROUX

Once celebrations are in full-swing in the cities, some characters (i.e., any characters that choose to participate in this prompt) will be contacted by Cyrus or Yima, depending on their faction or whichever they feel a stronger inclination towards if they are currently Unharmonized. Both will explain that there’s something that they’d like you to investigate, but also to prepare and be careful, since this request doesn’t come without danger… A Shard has been lost in Alenroux, and they both hope you’ll be able to retrieve it.

MERIDIAN

“I’ve gotten word that a Zenith Shard-Bearer was sent to Alenroux a little bit before you arrived, and they haven’t come back yet. Normally, none of our business, but based on what some of the farmers have been saying, I think they’ve gotten hit by Discord. If it gets high enough, well… You don’t really have your mind anymore. We can help them through Purification. Even if it’s just for long enough to calm them down, it’s better than them being trapped in madness. It might be easier to dissipate them first, though, then Purify their Shard. They were last seen heading to the Northern forests. Let me know what I can give you to help, and make sure to help each other. Good luck.”

ZENITH

"Please heed my request, though I do not ask this of you lightly... One of the Zenith's children has been lost among the fields of Alenroux come nightfall and I fear the worst has befallen them. There are dangerous elements attracted to the presence of a soul, and the likelihood our brethren has been lost... it is great. Seek out the Shard - and if you are able to retrieve it, please do so. If it has suffered corruption too great to be saved or would place you in too great a danger to take back, then... I trust you to make the merciful choice. I place this in your hands and will give you whatever you require to see it through. Look out for your fellow Zenith and work together, as I do not want to lose more of you. Be well."

Both factions will offer their recruits access to standard weaponry and armor/protective clothing. If a character asks for more, they’ll be given a weapon or a piece of armor with minor magical properties which would normally cost 1 AC token to purchase. Magical weapons are on loan however. If your character takes these and/or chooses to keep it, please note this in your Committed Actions! If they choose to keep standard weaponry, Cyrus/Yima will just be disappointed in your dishonesty. :(

When you arrive during the day cycle, you’ll also find horses and magic hoverboards to use (they go the same speed tbh), because heading North to the forests is a bit of a trek, and you might not make it there in time on foot! As the sun starts to set, you’ll see the people in Alenroux start to leave, going clearly your opposite direction. Once night falls (Nov. 9th OOC), it doesn’t take long for things to change.

There’s just a sliver of a crescent moon in the sky, which makes the rolling hills and forests much more ominous than they were during the day. And as the stories say, it only takes an hour or two before you start to run into strange creatures. Closer to the Cornerstone, there are indeed strange creatures, and while they may not all look scary, they might present different kinds of dangers such as…

• A light in the dark looks like a fairy, but stare at it too long and you’ll find yourself hypnotized by a ghastly fish will lead you to a body of water to drown you.
• An innocuous puddle may form up into a mass of corrosive goo, complete with the bones and items of the last person it came across. When you slice it, it simply creates a copy of itself, so hopefully you realize this before you’re surrounded.
• A strange straw poppet (sans pins, of course) that possesses you once you touch it and will use your body to try and fight anyone else while your consciousness is trapped inside the doll. To be freed, you only have to destroy the doll, but you’ll feel the pain of how its destroyed even if you don’t bear any injuries from it.

However, as you get closer to the Northern forests, they become significantly more fearsome…

• With a roar, a massive, multiheaded beast descends, and each of its mouths is perfectly capable of taking a bite out of you. Watch out for the snake’s head in particular, since its venom will cause you to hallucinate your worst fears.
• As you come face to face with an odd creature, bioluminescence lights up on its skin, and the spins on its back quiver with a sound like a rattlesnake’s. As the spines quiver, you find it exceptionally difficult to take your eyes off them and move as it stalks closer slowly. You can fight blind, right?
• Diving in and out of larger shadows like its water is a slimy beast that’s incredibly fast. Its teeth may be small, but its tail is a razor-sharp whip that could remove a limb if you’re not careful.

These are just examples, however. There are many creatures lurking the wilds of Alenroux, so feel free to create your own monsters with unique effects.

It's a difficult trek North, and you may be tired from hours of running, fighting, or both… But eventually, a few people do find what they were looking for. They might have even missed it, if not for how their Shards suddenly felt like they were burning. From the shadows, a twisted creature of roots and lights which what looks like many crystals in a glowing mass appears and one of its eyes locks on you. It looks like now is your chance.

NOTES

Weather summary for the first 30 days of Takiltu (NOV & DEC):

Highstorm is in late fall, early winter season. Some flurries may occasionally fall and it is getting considerably cold out there! Bundle up!

Springstar is in the throes of early summer; the weather is climate and pleasantly warm for outdoor celebrations (but not sweltering). There are occasional afternoon showers, but they don’t last very long.

Notable city changes:

If you wander the Markets in Highstorm, you might notice some of the peddlers seem a bit wary of you. Hm, guess something happened around here! Probably totally unrelated, but Silco and Vander (or anyone with them) will be treated with nervous suspicion.

Similarly, if you're traveling with Set (or you're Set) in Springstar, you might occasionally find yourself getting strange looks. Ask Set why.

Faction updates:

There are no explicit changes in faction behavior at this time. This will be a staple in all future event write-ups to catalogue the fluidity of the conflict as it progresses, though, so we're including it here for posterity!

Event Notes:

The Reflecting Pool in the Courts of Highstorm can be observed normally with no addtional effects or can bring your memory to vivid life thanks to the help of Emet-Selch (and Yima). If you grant him permission (which can be handwaved), he will breathe life into whichever memory you have chosen to view! If this includes any NPC’s or interactive elements, you will be responsible for playing them out in any tags until they disappear. Please see Emet’s toplevel for any interactions you’d like to thread out with him as a part of this.

For the Gallery in Highstorm, the art depicted in and scenes experienced through the pieces are up to you to create! Feel free to go wild with any associated NPC's in the scene and worldbuild as you see fit. Highstorm holds a variety of citizens from across the multiverse, so you could feasibly go fantastical places, or experience something distinctly profound and beyond your imagination...

The drinks and refreshments in Springstar can be enchanted in just about any way you’d like, including bringing upon minor physical changes of the cute, fun, and flirty variety! Feel free to get creative (as long as you get permission from your thread partner), the Meris would also merrily insist growing extra fluffy, scaly, etc bits during the celebration will only help you party harder! 🥳

As reminders for Alenroux, once night falls, a character is not able to leave until sunrise, which is 24 hours later. If your character is dissipated, you can have a PC retrieve their Shard or the respective Faction they're allied with will send out a search party to find it. Remember to report character deaths!

CODING

Comments

[prizeneck]

34 seconds.

[And another 34 seconds more to have people block him from breaking his opponent's ankle. During the hug, well, somehow, the man slumped in Mamoru's one-armed hold for no obvious reason. He had shrugged. 'Guess the fight wore him out,' he had said as some people carried the unconscious man away.

It's the idiot's fault, really; he had been way too loud at proclaiming how old ladies should be careful on this side of the town. How it had been too easy to yank the purse out of that lady's grasp. She had screamed murder in the street, brought them both here, and despite her frail stature, she stopped him from leaving the ring from a previous fight, all small energy condensated in a raw need for punishment. Unable to do it on her own because of both her age and how she limped—the pulling threw her onto the asphalt of the street.

So, championing her for those 34 seconds wasn't really that bad. The guy was wily despite inexperienced, and he worked close quarters. That only made Mamoru's work easy.

Still, it's getting old, how when he gets in this cage and the moment he wants to leave, something or someone keeps him there. It's as though he's an entertainment show, and the only way out is to please the sample-size masses in the building. Though he could have stepped down this time, something about this opponent stopped him.

Recognition, though very faint. He tacks it on the way the first sleeve snags onto a wrist or forearm as it does when you remove a jacket, and then the other doesn't.

With a tilt of his head, he shifts his own stance, feet wider apart, aiming outward at an angle. More weight on the right side of the guy — his left. And for some reason, the aggression he feels isn't aimed at him, but strewn across everything and every voice in this venue. A scattergun current searching for purchase, and the stance of someone who he knows well.

Scrappy, efficient in a pinch, and with nothing to lose.

This kid is a menace.] Do you know what you're doing?

[epiprocta]

[ wow i just realized i totally forgot to describe gen's dumb new dog ears in that first tag so please pretend those were there all along okay thank u friend ilu, blows kisses, but anyway

Hypocrite that he is, Gen usually doesn't like having his questions turned back on him. But this one in particular has irritation prickling hot down his spine.

(Does he know what he's doing? Fuck if he knows. He doesn't know why the hell he's even here any more, let alone why he's here, in this ring, doing what he's doing now, preparing to fight a stranger for even less reason than he usually picks fights. Who knows. Who cares.)

His annoyance manifests in a curled lip and narrowed eyes as he lowers his stance a little further, like he's prepared to rip and tear the moment the ref gives the signal. ]

I know enough.

[ Maybe? Probably? It's admittedly been a while since he's fought anyone properly after having lost those bullshit magic powers he had back in Horos, but -- whatever. He's been in more scraps than he cares to keep track of, so. It's enough.

The referee starts laying out rules or whatever, but Gen's clearly not listening. Those canine ears of his are canted forward, alert to every sound coming from around him, and his gaze doesn't waver a fraction from where it's fixed on studying Mamoru's every movement. And almost before the ref's even finished his countdown and shouted the word, 'GO!,' he lunges forward.

Gen's a bit quicker than most street punks, and his movements are a little more efficient than might have been expected. But he's otherwise true to his roots as a delinquent who'd learned to fight simply through getting into brawls with his delinquent ilk. The hard right hook he aims at Mamoru's ribcage is simple, efficient, and to-the-point. ]

[prizeneck]

[To be entirely honest, he'll focus more on the tail than the ears. The ears don't shift Gen's gravitational axis as much, and they're relatively silent. Although he may just hold onto them if he does feel them.

I will obviously make grabby hands at those kisses in the air and cradle them close, though, ty. <3


And ah, there it is.

Fragile egos, salted wounds, a moment too soon to mention something. It's easy to make anger flare in these types. It doesn't take an expert to get them all riled up, either. They do it for you, weaponizing their own fears and insecurities for the sake of a distraction. A blade posing as a blade even though the steel is old and brittle.

All too easy. He basically bounces off the already relatively pliant flooring of the ring even before the ref tells them to go.

And very predictable, too. The speed is impressive, sure. That he's going for a hook instead of a jab is clever, aiming straight for the kidneys. He's a thug who knows a thing or two; he probably would have given Mamoru a bit more trouble, even more so without his blade.

Point taken.

Even if this guy were much shorter than him—and he's not, apparently, even if he keeps his chin down—nothing that a down parry can't fix. He steps back quickly, the fist swiping the air in front of Mamoru's stomach instead, and he slams his hand down.

His fingers curl up on the wrist.] Lesson number one, never enter a fight hot-headed.

[epiprocta]

[ Clean. Mamoru's movements are clean and sharp in the way that he never would have seen back home; street thugs don't fight like that, after all. Were this encounter to have happened right after he'd been displaced from his homeworld, Gen might have become too flustered in that instant to maintain the momentum of the fight any further.

But too bad (or maybe good) for Mamoru, six months of training and experience mean Gen has gained a little more experience in fighting against the more professional types. ]

-- didn't ask.

[ Case in point, he doesn't waste much energy on snarling a response. His words are hissed low and sharp and quick, just in the split second as he shifts his balance. Gen instead saves the rest of his breath for when he tenses his body -- then yanks his arm closer, using the momentum of that hard pull to pivot on the heel of his feet and throw the rest of his body weight at Mamoru, trying to catch him off-guard and slam into him.

He has good instincts, even if his movements remain unrefined. ]

[prizeneck]

[And those movements translate into breath, into the tension under his fingers and the growl in his voice. It's a good call, in theory. That Gen is taller makes it seem obvious that there's a bodily advantage and that slamming against him would knock him out or out of his own breath.

It's telltale: that Gen is pulling and then pushing instead of just barrelling through like a bull that just saw red means that he's been getting some sort of training, some sort of knowledge to get off the standard brawl in an alleyway type of thing. It's crude, but it's there, and the kid has a good grasp of what to do for an opponent to remain on their toes.

However.

If he had been pushed back, that's fine; he's aware of the cage's distance between his back and the ropes, and he'd be allowed some maneuvering. It would have been a problem if the kid were to pin him against it.

And yet, here he is, pulling him further away from the wall. His instincts are good: on paper. The problem is that it's Mamoru who's holding Gen's arm, and not the other way around. So when he finally throws his body forward, Mamoru can tell when the direction of his traction changes and he pulls that arm back, twisting through hips and waist and with some footwork that's simple but not intuitive. A smack on the back of the kid's neck with a heavy hand (and really, that wrist, and that neck, he's tall, but he wasn't expecting him to be this slim) is only adding insult to injury that he's using own force to move him around.

But he's felt it before. This guy is pent-up. He needs to be run like a horse, even if around in circles.

Prayer circle for those nicotine-scarred lungs. In a sense, he feels like he's back at the dojo. He's not even listening to the crowd around them, and he's somewhat impressed.] Lesson number two: release your breath, don't hold it. It ain't doing anything if it's not moving.

[epiprocta]

[ Annoying. This guy's annoying to deal with. In part because of how tricky he is -- nimbler than he looks, his sloppy appearances at odds with quick footwork and clean movements -- but even moreso because he's a fucking nag.

Gen stumbles heavily when Mamoru practically dances out of the way of his forward charge, his own momentum and weight almost sending him crashing to the ground, not at all helped by the smack to the back of the neck that threatens to unbalance him. His boots scrape loudly against the ground as he just barely catches himself, feet scuffing as he slides to a knee and shakes his head to try and reorient himself.

Even before he's fully regained his balance, he shoots Mamoru a vicious glare that burns vicious with the sort of indignant rage that only hot-headed youths can muster. ]

You always act so high-and-mighty to people you fight with? [ Is he already a little more out of breath than he should be? No, shut up. (Yes, absolutely. He started smoking way too young, and it catches up to him fast in these sorts of situations.) ] I told you, I didn't ask!

[ But a keen eye might note the way he does exhale in a sharp huff with his next lunge in -- starting to aim a low blow at Mamoru's feet, as if trying to kick his feet out from under him, before switching tack at the last second to kick off the ground to try and catch him in the gut with an upward punch. He's a quick study despite all his griping, almost immediately implementing Mamoru's advice, and at least shrewd enough to attempt a feint, even if his execution is still a little sloppy and tinged with reckless, blind anger.

Mamoru's assessment is 100% correct. He has way too much pent-up anger and frustration to handle this fight with a cool head. ]

[prizeneck]

[One, two, three—oh, that's a knee, interesting. Good instincts in how to fall, too. And sometimes, knowing how to do that and taking a punch instead of throwing one is what really determines the tide of a fight, especially one like this one.

And while the outburst is just telltale of when a new attack is going to start, Mamoru hears that exhale with purpose—testingly, even— and he's listening in to those footsteps once again and feels one of those feet lift, and…

…it's not coming down. Is he going for a kick?

And it's a blink. The kid is fast. Faster than most fighters he's found in the back alleys of Japan, and he can tell that it's a downright shame that this kid is spending this sort of talent there, wandering close to Mamoru's own beaten path. The foot lands back down and Mamoru maneuvers so the uppercut doesn't strike at his gut but at the flare of his chest, near his side, and sure, his ribs will be bruised, but this kid isn't strong enough to break them like this

(yet).] Only to the ones that show promise.

[He lets out an exhale of his own, and he steps further in. Mamoru locks Gen's arm under his own, and he grins.]

That was good.

[And he swings his head to hit his forehead right into Gen's nose.]

[epiprocta]

[ His knuckles make solid contact with Mamoru's frame, the impact hard enough to ring through his forearm, and Gen allows himself to feel a single moment of elation. Because even a guy as annoying and nimble as this has got to be a little winded by getting punched right in the ribcage, right?

Except, no. Not only does this fucker still have the breath to be making that patronizing comment, that grip snags onto his wrist before he can pull his arm back.

It's not like Gen's ever been glad to have lost his left arm, but at times like this, he really wishes he hadn't lost that limb. The way Mamoru locks his arm into place turns out to be a much more solid anchor than he'd anticipated, not something he can wrench free despite the way he throws his weight back against it, and Gen snarls, ]

That's fucking cheap --

[ Just in time for Mamoru's skull to smash into his face.

Starbursts of light promptly blanket his field of vision, and Gen wobbles on his feet; it doesn't help that his balance had already been unsteady from how viciously he'd been trying to yank himself free. At least it's a small testament to his sheer, dogged tenacity that, even as he starts to go down, Gen tries to drag Mamoru down with him, clawing his fingers into Mamoru's clothes and attempting to twist his body weight around to ideally pin Mamoru down beneath his own weight. A good attempt, in theory. Too bad it's a finicky thing to try in the first place, and doubly hard when the world's still spinning before his eyes. ]

[prizeneck]

[And it's not like Mamoru isn't exactly affected by the hit, either. Using your head isn't exactly the most clever of moves because it's too risky. Half an inch to the side, he'd bump into the artery in his forehead, and that's halfway to getting a serious head injury by his own hand.

Stupid, really, but it does make the kid rile up even further, protest.

His survival instincts are impeccable, even if the fact that he had been expecting a punch or a claw on the other side to strike. He frowns through the slight burst of white in his everdark sight, adding that to the weight skewed onto one side alone.

The kid's lacking a hand? An arm, maybe?

Nevermind about his survival instincts. What the fuck is a kid without a limb throwing himself into a fit like this?

A good theory indeed, but this time Mamoru is driven to give this kid a real lesson. He raises a knee and drives his weight down, but over the kid's chest instead, so he'll fall down with a slam. It's more sound and shock than actually aiming to hurt; even if the organizers of this whole thing are already looking amongst each other and nearing them to stop, and it will make Gen even dizzier.]

What the fuck do you think you're doing?

[epiprocta]

[ Well, it was worth a shot.

Gen hits the ground with a graceless noise, and though he immediately scrambles to try and gain the upper hand, it's not quite fast enough. Mamoru's knee pins him to the ground before he can claw himself out of the way, and his next breath comes in a sharper wheeze as he tries to breathe past the weight bearing down on him.

Not that that stops him from snarling at the first referee that starts hesitantly approaching, spitting with unbridled vitriol -- ]

I haven't lost yet!

[ True to his word, he still fights furiously to free himself from where Mamoru's got him pinned down, boots scuffing against the flooring and hand scrabbling to try and dislodge that weight laid across his chest. He pauses only to force a humorless laugh in response to Mamoru's question, teeth bared as he growls, ]

What does it fucking look like I'm doing? [ Giving up on dislodging that knee knee, Gen settles for clawing at Mamoru's jacket, trying to yank him close enough to give him a headbutt back. ] I'm trying to get your fat ass off me, old man!

[prizeneck]

[The motion is enough for Mamoru to feel from where his knee is on Gen's chest to the space between both collarbones, where most of the torso's strength lingers when one tries to pull themselves up. The motion could seem like a stroke, really, had Mamoru not snarled angrily and placed his weight even further (how's that for an old fat ass?) to make the kid uncoil from his own thrashing.

Of course, Gen nicks his head a bit as Mamoru leans in to do it. He draws back, the hit actually making his shades skew from the perch of the bridge and fall. That was dangerous; he could have broken his nose or worse.

The last thing he wants is a dislocated retina.

Still, his scarred eyes are glaring down at the kid as his hand slides from center to the shoulder that keeps wiggling about, steadies it down.]

You throw yourself into a fight when you're like this? [And well done, Gen. You got him winded, if not because Mamoru is truly pissed.] A half-assed fight like this is only a death wish.

[epiprocta]

[ Oh this motherfucker.

Gen reacts to Mamoru's weight bearing down on his chest with all the composure and grace of a stray cat getting sprayed with a hose, boots scraping against the ground as he strains with all his strength. And when Mamoru's hand firmly presses down on his shoulder to pin him further to the ground, he reflexively rocks his weight to that side to lash out at Mamoru with his other arm -- the one he doesn't have. He's habitually kept the stump of that arm wrapped in fabric so he wouldn't have to look at where it ends halfway to where his elbow should be, but that padding does little to hide the fact that the limb ends short. Even if he smacks it against Mamoru's arm as hard as he can, there's a hard limit to how much damage he can do that way.

Times like this, his years of smoking really catch up to it. He ends up wearing himself out after a few more moments of furious thrashing, slumping back against the ground as he breathes in hoarse gasps. It takes a hard swallow to try and clear his throat before he manages a scoff in response to Mamoru's furious question. ]

What, you gonna try and kill me? [ Talk about being a buzzkill. Gen laughs, sardonic and breathless, as he drawls, ] Don't try and scare me with threats unless you're actually gonna do it. Or you're the one being half-assed.

[prizeneck]

[And Mamoru takes it, and it's so pitiful despite painful. Mamoru looks down, listens and feels that chest heave with exertion and those tarred lungs struggling for their lives as the kid underneath him thrashes and talks trash still, dignity be damned about his own limitations and still, still daring the swordsman to just go for it and kill him.

His lip curls. His own voice shifts, the lilt Gen probably recognizes from seedy places weaving through the way he folds certain letters.] What? I ain't here to make some brat's wish come true.

[And to showcase: His knee shifts, from the top of Gen's solar plexus, lower, just an increment, right beneath the spot where his ribs weave together. Making it harder to breathe.] I wouldn't let you off that easily.

[Of course, arms come up to heave Mamoru off Gen, and to get Gen up, too, to set them apart. The fight was too long, too charged, and the steam that was supposed to let off only seemed to encapsulate the ring. The people around them are already telling them to get the fuck out; they're ruining the whole show.

The swordsman allows for it, standing up. A ref presses his shades to his chest as he tells him he's disqualified for unregulated motions.] Tsk. [Is all he says at that.]

[epiprocta]

[ This guy won't actually kill him, he knows. Even if he recognizes that hint of a familiar drawl in the cadence of Mamoru's words, he knows actual murder probably isn't on the table. Not here, not with so many bystanders, not with handlers at the ready to intervene at any moment. Probably. Right?

Even so, when he feels that weight digging into the spot just below his solar plexus, compressing his already strained lungs and making his nerves light up with alarm ... just for a moment, a shiver runs down his spine. Something that's equal parts terror and relief, anxiety and anticipation. As his next breath comes at a shallow wheeze, Gen squeezes his eyes shut, his entire body tensing below Mamoru's weight.

-- then the weight lifts off him. There are too many hands grabbing at him all of a sudden, and Gen stumbles with a startled bark as he finds himself being roughly shoved towards the exit. Pointedly, the exit other than the one Mamoru's being escorted towards, because the handlers here are in no mood to risk having to pull them apart again.

Gen growls and swats those hands aside the moment he realizes what's going on, and while he doesn't try to step back into the ring, he does bear down his weight to stand in place and turn towards Mamoru before he's ushered too far away. ]

You don't get to call me half-assed, old man. [ There's a trace of that same, sleazy drawl creeping into his intonation as well, and Gen shoots Mamoru a provocative smirk, obvious even from the distance the handlers have put between them. ] Don't bother talking big next time if you're not gonna follow through.

[ It's a good thing that's about all he wants to say, because the coliseum handlers bodily shove him towards the exit at this point, clearly exasperated and wanting to liven the mood up with a new, more entertaining match. ]