OOC: Good lord, Kate. Your whole post set up there was sodding fantastic! o_________o So much emotion and atmosphere, your description of the battlefield changing was pure genius and the idea to have our heroes fight against doppelgangers of themselves is, whilst an oldie, definitely a goody and it leads to so many inspiring ideas! ngslnglkhg I AM SO IN THIS! >=D

New character a gogo! More villains yay!

IC:

"Hahaha, our patriarch sure knows how to throw a show, hmm?"

Battle Arena Observation Seating, Margay Castle

Athena wearily turned her attention from the developing proceedings to take note of the suited individual walk up from behind her, to stand by her side. He was an impossibly well dressed, suited gentleman carrying an ebony black cane under his armpit, a tophat sitting firmly upon his head. His entire appearance however seemed dated compared to that of Xell and Kenneth, or even the slick Julien's current suiting. Whilst his appearance was not modern, nor was it as old as the medieval surroundings the players of the game found themselves in. He looked to have been an individual ripped straight from the Victorian era.

His face was one beaming of smile, his eyes squeezed into tiny slits in amusement and joy. He had a distinquished moustache and wore a monocle on one eye. What was perhaps the most striking aspects of his appearance, however, was the blue and purple bruising surrounding the entire length of his neck, as if he had been subjected to an agonising hanging. But even more eyedrawing than that, however, was the circular scarring on his forehead, which looked almost unmistakably as that of a gunshot wound. When or how he would have survived that was unclear.

"It's you, 'Ripper'... what do you want...?" Athena asked, her face still supported by her arm, as she looked on with little interest at the developments below.

"Why, my dear, I simply couldn't miss this for the world!" The Ripper replied, beaming with a smile, although to anyone who wasn't Athena there was unmistakably a feeling of impending dread and horror for those who looked upon him.

His name was Jack, and he, like so many others around him, served at the pleasure of their Patriarch, Julien, although he was certainly one of those highest up and closest to his command. Whilst Jacob may have been the leader of Julien's knights, controlling the chaos of order in this blackened hell, and Scar was his right hand man, sent to clean up problems with due haste and finnese, Jack was sent for the times when Julien didn't want to sully his own hands. Jack was sent for the chaos and massacres. He was called for when things were to be long and messy.

"I've had my eyes on our dear little contestants here for quite some time, although naturally I cannot say my gaze to he preceedings was as naturally perceptive as our Lord." Jack noted. Athena really wasn't interested...

"Oh? And however did you manage that?" she asked, not particularly caring for the answer, but knowing that if she complimented Jack's interest for conversation it'd probably help him leave sooner.

"Well... I have my ways." Jack smiled. He reached towards his face, the visage of his face shifting and melding to that of a featureless white mask, a stream of golden hair viewable around him. His hand pressed against the mask, giving off a series of clicks and a vaccuum, before the mask vanished altogether, leaving the more familiar smiling face of Jack behind. "Anyway, my dear, care to fancy a wager?"

Athena suddenly seemed a bit more interested, if at least intriqued by Jack's suggestion, but her face and body posture did nothing to betray her apathetic stance. "A wager on what?"

"On your favourite, of course!" Jack laughed heartily. "Of course there's little doubt that none of them will survive our Lord's game and actually complete it all, but we can always wager on who exactly we think will die last, at least."

He outstretched a hand towards the lady Athena. "Are you interested, my lady?"

Battle Arena Trenches, Margay Castle

'Huh... I'll give the guy some credit. He's definitely got some cunning.'

Kenneth mused to himself as he slowly backed away from the appearing doppelganger forms of himself, Mordie and Serenity. Serenity's exclamation towards Julien was lost on deaf ears, as Kenneth immediately began analysing his situation and trying to determine the best way of succeeding. And not just that, in defeating his own doppelganger, but to make sure that both Serenity and Mordie were safe, too. Well, Serenity was rather irritating if he had to admit so he wasn't as concerned about her, but it'd certainly make things harder to redeem his soul if he was to ignore someone in danger.

The smug looking doppelganger of himself walked nearer and nearer despite their cramped confines, twirling the dancing blade up and down within his hands. That cocky grin, that fuzzy haired face, that suit... dang, Kenneth really was a sexy individual! And he'd be all over the fact that there now seemed to be TWO Mordie's if, well, one of them wasn't distinctly evil. But hey, he was sure that, in better conditions, he'd probably be able to work with it.

But more pressing was Kenneth's musings about Julien's aims with this. It wasn't just an attempt to try and kill them... 'He wants us to reveal our own weaknesses. The only way we beat these doppelgangers is by striking at our weakpoints. And once Julien knows that, we'll have lost even if we do succeed here.'

Kenneth continued to glare at his slowly approaching double. 'Do these things have the exact same strengths and weaknesses we have? I doubt this things got my ability as well, I've kept it hidden pretty well. Soldierboy and Sweetcheeks might have an inkling of a guess, but I still haven't come clean about what exactly I can do... heh. Even if this thing does have my ability, it means nothing to me since I can counter it easily enough. Although that's also not gonna be good for the ladies... hmm'.

Kenneth raised a finger to his chin, lightly scratching the stubble on it as he continued to deliberate the best course of action. 'Only one way to really work this thing here, and that's to take this guy out as quickly as possible, before it or anyone can begin to suspect my ability, and before anyone else gets hurt.'

Kenneth quickly turned to Mordie. "Hey, gorgeous, you think you can keep yourself... er, busy, for a little while?"

Mordie turned towards him, smiling despite the ridiculous situation at what Kenneth must have been thinking. "I think I can look after myself, even if its for a time."

"Good! I'll get this over and done with in no time!" Kenneth yelled, racing forwards towards the slowly approaching doppelgangers of both himself, Mordie, and the Serenity brandishing the thorn whip towards the real princess. Kenneth dived towards his left, heading down another of the trenches in what was a t-junction, his doppelganger matching his moves completely, meeting him at the intersection and joining him in racing down it, away from the battling ladies. 'Gotta keep this thing away from them and take it out quickly...' The real Kenneth mused to himself, striking out with his hand knife to try and cut the fake version's face.

The shadowy copy parryed it effortlessly, and so began a frenzied battle between the two suited foxes as they traded blows in trying to slash one another with their knives, each attack barely missing however as they managed to dodge and parry the other's blows. Their race stopped, their feet screeching against the stony, rock flooring, pebbles scattering in their wake. Kenneth tried another powerful lunch, missing as the fake swerved his head back in time, and kicking the real Kenneth back some more. Kenneth grunted as he fumbled across the floor in a ball, before quickly collecting himself and pulling himself back up.

"You might know everything I'm going to do, but I also know everything you're going to do! Strange, isn't it?" The doppelganger jeered, slowly walking again whilst flipping his knife up and down, as if their brief encounter so far done nothing to him.

"I'm pretty sure you know jacksquat about what I'm thinking, buddy." The real Kenneth gritted his teeth, as he glared towards the doppelganger.

"Hey, c'mon man, I know all about our tragic past, and also about your pathetic attempts at trying to redeem your soul here. You try to act like quite the jackass, but then thats all it really is, an act." The doppelganger laughed. "You also hate yourself way too much, you feel guilty about what happened... to her. Fact is, buddy, you want people to hate you. Like that lie you make the dragon believe. He wanted to forget. You wanted to be hated. Made quite a convenient lie."

"You need to shut up!" Kenneth shouted in protest.

"Y'know, I think I'm gonna have to tell him myself the truth you're covering from him, if he isn't killed by himself, first. Seems like the kinda weakling he can't stand up to... well, even himself." The doppelganger laughed. "Oh, and then, I'm gonna go hurt the rest of the people you care about. All of these other trial runners... you pretend you don't care, but somewhere you do. Most of them you're just trying to save, hoping it repents your soul for redemption, but a couple of them... you really do seem to care about. They're gonna be fun to kill." The doppelganger lifted his blade to his mouth, and licked the blade's length with his tounge, before laughing again.

The real Kenneth was more angry than ever. "You know nothing! And you're not EVER going to get the chance!" He raised his knife in a defiant stance, ready to end his doppelganger's life at any second.

"Heh, please." The doppelganger shrugged his shoulders. It was the instant the real Kenneth had waited for, and with it the suited fox charged towards his shadow, his hand outstretched, his knife ready to pierce the shadow's heart...

The doppelganger's hand moved like a flash, and Kenneth was paralyzed almost instantly, his knife inches away from his shadow's chest, but to no avail. Kenneth's eyes were widened in fear, pain and confusion. A growing, indescribable pain was swelling within him. A thin, red line quickly began to form along Kenneth's neck, before the wound suddenly opened and blood began spurting out. Kenneth's legs went weak, and he began falling, dropping his knife as his hands reached towards his throat, doing whatever he could to apply pressure to the wound and stop the blood loss.

"You're just not ruthless enough." The doppelganger mocked, as it stood above Kenneth's fallen form, his knife soaked in crimson, held high above Kenneth's head, ready to deal the finishing blow.

"No, but I am smart enough."

The voice came from behind the doppelganger. Before it had time to turn and face the owner of the voice, a sharp pain stabbed through the back of the shadowy fox, between its neck and its shoulder, making it in turn lose its footing and begin to fall. It collapsed to the ground, passing through what was once the bleeding form of Kenneth's body, dissipating the form as if it was nothing but smoke and mirrors. The doppelganger crashed to the floor with a solid thud, blackening out. Before it lost any semblance of consciousness, it saw the real form of Kenneth Lay, the conman, standing above him with his own blood soaked knife, his neck devoid of any wounding at all. "How-" the doppelganger would have asked before its eyesight faded.

The panting, sweating form of Kenneth Lay, devoid of any injuries except a ragged and dirtied suit looked down at his copy, and spat down on it. "There's only one Kenneth Lay, sweetheart, and you can't possibly hope to match me. At least its not a killing blow... killing you wouldn't exactly make any road to soul redemption easier." He turned, and slowly began walking back towards Serenity and Mordie. 'Never thought I'd end up having to con myself, ha.'

The crowd's response was instantaneous, and completely unexpected. One half of the ground roared with applause and cheer. Even if Kenneth was one of the protaganists and one of the trial runners, the crowd had to applause and recognise when a fight was well won and with such savage intensity. They had never expected the cocky suited fox to be able to teleport of all things, and regenerate at that!

The other half of the crowd however, began booing in earnest, disgusted at the turn of events. They, however, saw the true reality of the events that had just occured. Kenneth was never slashed across the throat. He had, rather calmly, walked around the enraptured doppelganger's form, who blindly struck out at a person he thought he saw, but which did not exist, before the real Kenneth came around to his fake's back, and stabbed him in the back. It was an anticlimatic conclusion, to say the least.

The crowd's confusion and mixed response was already beginning to sow discontent amongst the crowd's onlookers. In small pockets of the arena's seatings, the patrons began to argue and, in some cases, break out into fisticuffs at one another for the disagreement in the match's outcome.

It was taking a hell of a lot of concentration, but Kenneth was already beginning to work his magic, and sow the seeds of discontent in the arena's battlefield.

He couldn't deny he was loving every minute of this. But for now, he had to help his damsels in distress.

OOC: Whoo! If anyone was a bit confused by any of that, feel free to ask and I'll try to clarify, but I hope my writing was pretty much self explanatory. Nathan's plight will come in another post soonish. :3

((i am without compy for the day, so ill try to post but it is going to be dicey.))

Lani immediately moved to counter a deadly sideways slash from her dark counterpart, which would have decapitated her had she not known what to expect. Her desire to end a life quickly and cleanly in battle always guided her initial attack if at all possible. She countered with a swift thrust, which was in turn blocked by her double. The dark Lani pressed the attack while the real one was slightly off-balance, and Lani had to spin aside and even then couldn't escape completely unscathed. A shallow slash marked her shoulder, slowly trickling dark blood.

((update: am at home and have 'net access. W00t. Still won't be on as often, but I will be on!))

The real Lani winced, but turned her spin into energy for another slash, this time aiming low, for her double's legs. Nega Lani leaped back to avoid the attack, but she also did not escape unharmed -- a long gash across her leg seriously injured her. Still, she managed to grit her teeth, hissing and launching another attack. The two Lanis were evenly matched. Deciding that she couldn't expect to take herself on alone and win without seriously draining herself, she turned and fled with quick strides toward Xell's opposite, leaping into the air and swinging her blade downward to slice her companion's double in two.

(OOC: The line...the LIIIIIINE....:D *squee*...*cough* Ahem.  I'm over it. XP  Hoo boy...fight scene.  I still suck at fight scenes. @.@ Oh well...lessee...*fights urge to use the 'faker' line*...*resolve failing...*)

IC:

"Oh no you didn't!"  Serenity narrowly ducked out of the way of the thorn-vine-swipe.  "NObody uses that line but me!"  She paused, apparently in thought, automatically dodging another swipe. "...And Daddy.  As that's who I picked it up from.  But that doesn't matter right now."  Her next dodge was not quite quick enough, as the thorns scraped the side of her face.  Wincing, she returned her full attention to the battle. "Oh you did NOT just mar my pretty face, Faker!" She aimed a punch toward the doppleganger, but it went wide, and she tumbled to the ground.  Scrambling to her feet, she dodged another swipe, ending up behind her simulacrum.  "Man...never thought I'd ever have to kick my OWN butt..." As she said this, she did just that, sending the false Reni sprawling to the ground.

However, the doppleganger pulled a similar move to the one she had just done, dodging and scrambling to it's feet.  "Heh.  Well yer not doin a verry good job of it, now are ya?!"

The two circled each other.  The real Serenity scoffed. "What kind of a retort is that?!  I woulda thought you capable of more, being a copy of me and all.  Look at you.  You don' even care that that stick is cutting into yer hand and spilling yer own blood all over ya! Pathetic!"  Serenity and her fake continued to scuffle, trading both blows and taunts that were eerily similar.  Serenity curled into a ball and spun at the doppleganger...However, Nega Reni did the exact same thing at the same time.  The two ended up colliding and bouncing away in two different directions. 

"Who's the pathetic one now, eh?  Yer already gettin' tired, admit it!  A couple more hits and I'LL be the only Reni left!"

Serenity jumped to her feet. "Ha! You wish, Faker!"

"'Faker?'  You already used that taunt!  Besides, it's an old one!  Whatsa matter?  Running out of ideas when faced with your own snark, Spineball?"

"Hey, shut up.  Like yer doin' any better?  'Spineball' is it now?  Hah!  Talk about an old retort!"  Serenity tried to hide her panting.  It wasn't looking good.  Suddenly an idea came to her.  "How bout this...since niether of us seem to be gettin anywhere in this fistfight..."

"Speak for yerself, Scratchface!"  The Dark Reni cut in, smirking.

The purple hedgehog grimmaced breifly. "Hear me out.  I prepose a different kind of contest." 

"I'm--"

"Oh no you don't!  Not again!  That's MY line!  What I was gonna say is..."  The real Reni grinned at her simulacrum and continued, "How bout a race?  Winner gets to destroy the other."  If this thing is like me...maybe it has the same weaknesses as me...Maybe I can trigger my bad luck in this faker...Of coarse...I might just trigger my OWN bad luck...But...Well...I ain't got any better ideas.  And hey...The worst that can happen would be I die and end up back in that hellhole again...

TBC

(OOC: XD She's tempting fate with that "The worst that can happen" bit...XD; )

Nathan stared perplexed at the events that unfolded before his eyes. He had no idea what was going on, who these people were, why the very arena they seemed to be standing in suddenly morphed and changed in such an  unusual way... and he certainly had no idea why there seemed to be an exact copy of, well, himself standing right before him. Normally Nathan managed to rely on instinct well enough alone, but the situation before him was one entirely surreal. Whilst Nathan's face was one painted with confusion, his copy's appearance seemed emotionless, although at least confident enough that it had its own faculties well enough in mind.

Nathan whipped out his mobile as fast as he could. It didn't take him long after finding the other pairs of individuals fighting against themselves that he, too, was probably supposed to fight his copy as well. The first notes on his phone mentioned a trial of redemption, and three circles. This battle here, was it one of the trials?

"Just to cut to the chase, you and me, we're supposed to fight." The sinister copy of Nathan's uttered. "And I'm going to kill you, y'know."

His attitude seemed entirely different to Nathan, but there was at least a familiarity about it. The confidence Nathan would have whenever he found himself embroiled in a battle.

So, he would have to fight himself, then. A chance for his ability to shine.

But against himself, it was a complete and utter stalemate.

Nathan had a curious ability. Despite his disability, or rather, maybe because of his disability, he had gained the ability to remember and perfectly mimic any and every single fighting technique he'd see, even if but for a brief moment. Naturally that had numerous positives for when it came to a fight, but there was also a number of negatives associated with it, too. For one, Nathan was limited by his body. Whilst he was incredibly fast and a skilled dodger, being a primarily reactive fighter, his strength and defense were subpar. A strong fighter's technique would be perfectly copied by Nathan, but the execution of it would not have the same strength. Plus, he also lacked the natural instinct involved in building and learning your fighting style's craft.

He was a jack of all trades, master of none. But in many fights, being able to successfully dodge your opponent, and learn all of their multitude of fighting skills in muscle memory to use instinctively in a fight meant that he would be a formidable opponent and be able to hold his own against almost anyone. But facing himself, however, changed things dramatically.

Nathan was not a planning fighter, his skillset didn't lend itself well to it, and his disability often meant that he'd forget his plan in the thick of things. That's why his body had trained itself to be more of a reacting based fighter. But a reactive based fighter against another reactive based fighter meant that... well, nothing would happen.

Both salamanders just stood atop the high platform, mentally eyeing each other, waiting for either one to make the first move and begin the dance, even as their companions around them continued to trade blows with one another.

Three minutes passed, and still nothing. Julien might not have known it, but making Nathan fight against himself was probably his greatest weakness.

'Oh god, what to do, what to do...' Nathan thought to himself, trying to guage the situation and make some kind of plan, even if it wasn't his strong forte. The best way to counter someone with Nathan's ability was to have a solid plan established to counter him, specifically. Trading blows and hoping for a miracle would achieve nothing. He'd have to be smart, maybe use the environment around him, or any of the others, or-

The parallel Nathan seemed to have already reached its own plan, and automatically charged towards the real Nathan, thrusting his rapier forward, aiming for Nathan's heart. Nathan dodged it barely, his consciousness snapping back from his own musings even as he realised his copy's plan was nothing more than to 'attack', and begin their battle which could last for any indeterminable amount of time.

They began to swing their blades at one, albeit often clumsily and without any hint of years of training and experience, all whilst at the same dodging them effortlessly. They began to move at a speed that didn't reach superhuman, but their sheer ability and athleticism inspired a belief that they might be reaching anywhere near peak human capacity. Their dodging skills seemed like an amalgamation of multiple martial arts based dodges and counters, but also typical dancing moves and ballet. Both of the Nathans were on autopilot, their instincts and muscle memory working for themselves, desperately trying to secure an opening to victory, but all the same avoiding each shot. Nathan was able to learn and master any technique he saw from another and his knowledge was expansive, but it did little against someone else who knew all of that too.

...or maybe he didn't?

When was this copy of Nathan based? Was it an identical copy of him as he was now, or maybe before, earlier, when he had died? If it was the latter, then it meant that the real Nathan might have a chance. He wouldn't be able to remember where or how he learnt these particular new moves, but he was sure he'd have seen other people fighting earlier throughout the trial, and acquired their skills too. If the copy didn't know them, then it meant the real Nathan had an edge. Albeit a small one.

If he managed to miss with the attacks and his fake dodged it, it would also then automatically know that move. It was a risky prospect, but there was no alternative.

With an incredible deft amount of speed, Nathan swung his rapier downwards, his left hand on its hilt alongside his right, aiming for his copy's neck and a clean kill. It was a perfect replica of Lani's first attack in the entire trial against the doberman, although Nathan wouldn't have been able to tell you himself about it.

But whilst Lani's attack had met its mark, Nathan's missed, in part because his physical abilities weren't as honed as Lani's, and partly because his, and thus in extension his copy's, dodging ability was amazing enough to avoid it.

And now, the Nega-Nathan now knew that particular technique. It smiled. "Thaaaat's unusual. Tell me, when did you pick that one up?"

Nathan gritted his teeth. He had to keep pressing forward the attack, hoping something would help him catch his opponent off guard and enable him to succeed. Nathan threw his rapier into his left hand, pulling it out of his body's way as he swung his right fist down, aiming for his copy's face in the same power inducing way Kenneth had did against his doberman opponent. It might have done some damage if it connected, but even then it was just a simple punch. Nathan's copy returned the favour though in the real salamander's surprise, knocking him senseless into the floor. He instinctively dodged just in time as his copy brought his own rapier down into the ground, trying to impale Nathan's head.

The real, hooded Nathan took a step back, his breath ragged as he tried to assess the situation. It wasn't going well... because his own dodging ability was too good. But he couldn't let up. Not yet!

Nathan charged forwards, his arms moving his rapier with deft speed and agility, perfectly mimicing Glitch's earlier trial of his new crescent shaped blade, each swing of Nathan's sword desperately trying to reach his target. What the doppelganger didn't parry, it easily dodged, and gained another new technique at the same time.

"I'm not giving up!" Nathan determinantly cried, his teeth gritting harder than ever.

He dropped down low, swinging his tail out in a wide sweep in a perfect copy of Xell's earlier move in his battle against Flint, hoping to trip his opponent over, but the paradoxical copy pirouetted over it, kicking the real Nathan in the face. Nathan's feet skidded against the rocky ground, he was nearing the edge further and further. "Not... yet!"

But he was weakening. He was getting tired and actually been injured, whilst his copy seemed to share none of Nathan's plight. It brought its rapier upwards, ready to deal a downwards strike that the real Nathan wouldn't be able to avoid in time, when suddenly...

The shadow copy's vision went white. Its eyes went completely blank, and it was devoid of any of its senses. A second or two later it recoved, but it lowered its sword to the ground as it confusingly looked around itself. It had lost its recent memories.

'Share my strengths, share me weakness!' Nathan mentally cried, swinging his sword upwards, intent on a killing blow through the copy's chin and center of its face. But whilst the fake salamander had lost its sense of thought and cohesion, it still retained its natural fighting and dodging instincts. It swung its head backwards, avoiding most of the strike, even if Nathan's attack did manage to pierce it, and gouge a cut through its cheek and eye, blinding it.

But now, in that one moment, the real Nathan's guard was open, and his negative copy knew enough that what it was meant to do was kill Nathan.

It swung its sword downwards, aiming for Nathan's neck and a clean kill, again paralleling Lani's vicious strike against the first doberman. The real Nathan's body threw himself backwards in an instinctive move to avoid the blow, and whilst it saved his life from a critically terminal deathstrike, it wasn't good enough. A long red line cut through across Nathan's body, staring from his shoulder, diagonally downwards across his chest and stopping at his opposite hip to his shoulder. The strike was fairly shallow, but without treatment soon it would kill him, and it still hurt like all hell.

"Eyaaaaggghhhh!" Nathan screamed in untold agony. His companions around them all turned their attention towards Nathan and his plight.

"Nathan!" Xell yelled in unison with Kari.

Nathan staggered backwards, nearing the cliff's edge, his vision swimming and his mind blacking out. His copy was cackling in victory as it nursed its ruined eye. Nathan stopped himself from toppling over the side, gritting his footing into the cliff, trying to keep himself conscious enough to try and fight. But to his most unfortunate luck, the cliff couldn't support Nathan's weight. A loud crack and suddenly emerging line appeared atop the high platform's edge, and the rock and stone tumbled out from beneath Nathan's feet. He fell, dissapearing from his companions' sight.

"NATHAN!!" Lani cried out, her attention stuck on the scene that had just transpired, before she too instinctively dodged an incoming attack from her persuing copy with her honed warrior's edge. Her copy still managed to scrape against Lani's beautiful face however, creating a small cut along the swordswoman's cheek, but it was a forgetable attack that could easily be treated later. Whilst she would have loved to go after Nathan and try in any way to save him, she was preoccupied with her own battles, and she couldn't leave her comrades Xell and Kari to fight against four of the phantoms copies.

The nega-Nathan laughed.

"Well, that's the second down." Jack noted from his vantage point in the arena crowd's seating, ever still by Athena's side. "Looks like that makes it one-a-piece. Never really had much faith in him getting anywhere, though, so not really surprising."

Athena muttered a small agreeing grunt, still watching the unfolding events and considering Jack's earlier wager.

He quickly deduced that for some reason he must have fell from above, there was no way he could get in this position with such a serious chest wound and then trying to scale up the towering platform, so his best chances would probably be to head to ground. And below, he could see the raging battles of strangers in a roshbush maze, with what appeared to be two identical versions of the same person. He had no idea what was happening, but he needed to get down at once and as safey as possible, and then could maybe use his phone to try and get some answers and some help.

OOC: Hopefully that made an interesting read for some people and I hope I managed to explain Nathan's abilities pretty well. If not, well, give a shout and I'll try to explain. For Kate, Kim and Shy, feel free to have the Nega-version of Nathan also be involved in attacking against your characters whilst being mindful of his dangerous abilities, and K, Kate and James, feel free to have a rather poorly real Nathan drop in if you fancy at any time as well. 😯

Hope that was as much of a fun read as it was a fun write :3

OOC:
Yowza, things are so intense here! <3 <3 <3
In the middle of writing an IC right now, but it's coming along quite slowly xD;. I'll be busy today until later on tonight though, so I'll have to work on it later. Just expect something from me either tonight or tomorrow. =3

OOC: I promise I will post soooooon....! DX Nobody give up on me yet! *flail*

OOC: Thanks again for the compliments Ash ^^. Already told you how much I dig your other IC's. Gobsmacking read on all acounts!! Rolemodel roleplayer so you are o.o
I hope this post intereferes with no one else's. I'll update Xell and Seipher's take on things. Going to give others a chance to post first 😉

IC:
Battle Arena, Royal seats of the damned

“Don’t tell me you’re still hesitating my dear?” ‘Ripper’ asked in a well-spoken tone of worthy “We’ve only lost 1 of 11. Or 2 of 11 depending on which of the arctic foxes fell down.”

“Arctic foxes?” Athena enquired with sullen eyes as she scrutinized Kenneth, who had run up to aid Mordie and Reni in the upcoming battle. She was furthermore, 100% sure that it was the authentic Kenneth that had won that battle. Even the audience had deduced that fact given their disenchanted cheering.

“Do you really care much for their species? Or the suits they wear?” Jack sighed, before breathing onto his monocle and wiping it clean to place it back on his face “perhaps you should amend your bookkeeping on account of who has endured the most to the best of their abilities in this Circle so far.”

Athena’s long hair flew over her shoulders as she lifted her chin from the palm of her hand. She gave Jack a bemused and baffled look. It was the most she had moved as of yet since his arrival in spite of her morose expression.

“So you’re asking me to psycho-analyse them in order to justify my gamble?” Athena asked incredulously.

“Certainly not my dear,” Jack scoffed in a posh manner, but let on a slight sadistic smile “but I know you well enough to know you won’t warrant your reason on suave and gracious looks alone.”

“Hmn,” Athena lightly retorted with a mildly contorted expression. Distant cries and sounds of the battleground continuing to ambient in the background. She turned her face so that it was sideways relative to where Jack was viewing.

“Xell Rhinestone. First of the official present Protagonists to have announced his sin and to have stepped through the Vortex,” she began out aloud “what is there to say? Apart some of his noble traits to look out for team members and rally them up together, he did fall at one point and from there onwards has come across as pathetically weak in my opinion. I don’t think he’ll win. He hasn’t let go of his past and he won’t move on.”

“Instead he marches on with the weight of 980 dead troopers on his shoulders.”

“You’re awfully unsympathetic my lady,” ‘Ripper’ smiled, as a beam of light shone of his monocle “do you underestimate the great responsibility that a lieutenant or any higher ranking officer carries?”

“I’ve made my deduction that he is not it,” Athena stated, watching one of the black dragons swoop down from the sky to snare itself an audience member to eat later presumably. A scream and shout was resounded, which did nothing to break her passive expression.

“…can we move along please?”

“But of course. We have Princess Serenity Alicia Acorn Hedgehog. Defiant violet decorated hedgehog with some unusual traits. Including that Rainbow birthmark.”

“Well how observant of you,” Athena chuckled with some faint amusement “quarrelsome, stubborn, accident-prone. Poor strength and combat mode I suspect. But resilient and reluctant to beg for mercy.”

The femme fennec smiled coarsely.

“I’m not convinced a wild card like her will be left standing either, however.”

“Judas Disember Ihana?” Jack changed the subject promptly.

“You mean Glitch?” Athena frowned simplifying it more for herself, as she turned her head to give Jack an abrasive look.

She suddenly turned her head and gripped the arm rests of the throne, pushing her face forwards as if to scrutinize the white hedgehog from a distance very carefully.

‘There’s something really wrong with him. It’s almost as if he’s surrounded by dark omens and auguries,’ Athena thought, as she narrowed her eyes pensively.

“Well?” Jack interrupted her thoughts, causing her to gasp for a short moment.

“I’ll revisit that one,” Athena tilted her head with a faint hint of doubt despite narrowing her eyes some more “and now we’ll go onto Mr. Kenneth Lay.”

“Conman fox,” Jack nodded “I suspected limited fighting abilities and that for survival moreover. However, his stealth and remarkable tricks of the trade have left me astonished. Would you say the same madam?”

“Hmm…” Athena brooded in thought. Reflecting on his victory against his doppelganger and other past dealings “he’s not a team player. Even if he wanted to be it doesn’t seem to be in his making…”

“I wish I had heard the conversation he had with ‘himself’. Perhaps we would’ve seen something behind that conceited bravado of his,” Athena continued “if he survives this circle, I think he’ll be a catalyst for the final winning if the trial runners get the upper hand. However, I don’t think he will be the one to deal the final blow. To wield the last swipe of the blade nor to pull the trigger.”

“…ok,” Jack answered, not knowing what to deduce from a vague answer such as the one he heard from the gothic clad female.

“That Salamander Nathan?”

“Well, he just fell didn’t he?” Athena replied, gesturing towards the high platform Xell, Lani and Kari continued to fight upon. Facing not only their own doppelgangers but Nega-Nathan, in spite of being blinded in one eye by his counterpart.

“Even if he had survived this circle I think his disability would’ve sealed his fate in one way or another. He really has been on borrowed time for a long time now.”

“And you did not notice anything else worthwhile about the Salamander?” Jack questioned.

“Apart from the ability to fail spectacularly? None whatsoever,” Athena concluded. She cast her gaze upwards before lowering it as she set her eyes on the next trial runner in question. The knight warrior.

“Lani.” Athena said, awaiting Jack’s verdict “well what do you think?”

“I’m more interested in what you think. Who’s to say I haven’t made my mind up already? You on the other hand, have not.”

“Hmn. Well…” the vulpine scrutinized once again, an air current blowing her long hair over her shoulders before it settled down again “she’s clearly the most apt fighter but I also sense she loses her grip sometimes. She seems troubled by something…”

“Well don’t they all? They are all here. Undertaking this trial for a reason linked with their sinning past,” Jack said stating the obvious as he stamped his cane against the ground with a sense of refinement.

“Yes well… I was going to get onto that,” Athena retorted somewhat annoyed, before resuming that morbid stare again “it would seem that she doesn’t know herself how deep her woes really are. Either she is lying to herself or maybe there’s something she can’t remember.”

“Denying herself? Fleeting away from such memories of tragedy?” Jack mused with a half-smile.

“No,” Athena leered with a whisper “and it’s all to do with her sword. Have you noticed how she’ll never part with it? I suspect it serves her more than just a weapon.”

“She may be a worthy warrior. Perhaps the best serving fighter of the m all, but something soon is going to tip the balance and challenge her fate.”

“Seipher.”

Athena suddenly leaned her head downwards, causing her long hair to veil her eyes and leave only her mussel visible as her face became shrouded. An expression fearsomely enigmatic.

“What?” she asked.

“I said Seipher. Fox chap with the three tails. How do you feel he will fair in the game?” Jack tilted his head upwards, before nodding downwards with an almost knowing smirk on his face “you do know of whom I speak. Unless I am to elaborate?”

Athena tilted her head up ever so slightly, her face overcast in shadow as an emerald coloured eye pierced the darkness angrily.

“Oh he’ll die. He’ll definitely die.” She said abruptly “and I’d like to conclude the same for Hikari Takeshi and that stupid little girl Dolly. In fact… I haven’t seen that rabbit in battle…”
Athena tugged back her hair and searched the arena in a dark but composed manner for Dolly. She shook her head when she decided she was not to be found.

“So we also have Mordie, one of the great Overlord’s dark minions. Presumably she has subjected herself to betraying him.”

“Which is precisely why she’ll meet her withering fate before this is over,” Athena looked at Jack again and opened out a palm as if to voice her opinion. Seeing as her morbid expression had done too much to set her emotions in stone for the most part.

“…Julien cannot and will not accept that sort of disloyalty. It’s insulting. Though he’ll tease it off as another excuse to get even with another defiant loyalist. Just like Wren…”

“And that brings us to the last trialler,” Jack smiled more broadly than ever. His face momentarily faded out into that blank haunting mask of his, causing him to press at it again which gave off a few clicks and vacuum-like sounds. His broadening smiled face re-emerged with a higher sense of evil.

“Wren.”

“Yes,” Athena answered simply. A dragon roared in the skies as if offended by the subject of conversation “he is a unique brand of cruelty. And we know his past treachery. Former captain of Julien’s black knights. Until that monstrosity was overcome with an insatiable greed and thus tried to snuff the Great Patriarch himself.”

“Yes. So I gathered from past rumour my lady,” Jack said looking out into the overcast black skies “however I am unfamiliar with just how he tried to do that. Perhaps you can enlighten me with the fable?”

“I would but I fear we’ll overstep our grounding with all we have discussed today,” Athena said with reservations “what I will say is, he was a better Knight captain than that son of a dog. Jacob.”

“Such outspokenness my lady,” Jack tutted “so now what is the verdict? Who will be the last standing? You expressed some promise in Judas and yet your mind is unmade for that of Wren. Please tell me. We have to wager on this one…”

Before Athena could give her answer, she found herself gripping the arm rests and turning her torso and head to peer at some rippling curtains which unveiled to allow a black suited Julien to walk through. His teeth glinting and his eyes flaring as he made his haunting footsteps.

“I suspected an old colleague of mine had disembarked to witness the festivities,” the Patriarch said as he found himself standing between Jack ‘Ripper’, and a seated Athena who continued to look on with a dismal look on her face.

“Fine evening wear as always Mr. ‘Ripper’,” Julien smirked as he admired Jack’s Victorian attire “just as well I called it overcast on the approaching dawn that was coming but for half an hour ago.”

“What brings you here may I ask?” the Patriarch asked, folding his arms whilst tilting his head with a dark, analysing expression on his face.

Battle Arena Trenches

"Well, well," the doppelganger Mordie cooed, licking her cherry-red lips, "Lookin mighty gorgeous, hun."

"Thanks," the real Mordie gripped her halberd tighter, maintaining a calm smile, "You t'oo."

The two were at a standoff momentarily, none making any movements aside from drumming their fingers atop their respective weapon. Who would make the first strike? Mordie had never used a weapon before – perhaps the anti would be just as inexperienced? She figured she’d give something a chance – she’d have to learn how to defend herself eventually. The real Mordie took a step forward, and immediately the opposite charged in on her, thrusting her weapon forward multiple times once she was in reach.

The original backed, awkwardly twisting around her halberd in an attempt to parry the incoming strikes, some of which slipped through her defense and nicked her arms. She forced back the fake, who subsequently tumbled to the floor, and quickly scanned her arms – no blood, but anymore recklessness could lead to worse damage, even death. She knew she had no clue what she was doing – but that must mean the anti didn’t either… right?

Mordie had told Kenneth she could watch after herself, even just momentarily. Gotta stay alive, she warned herself, eyes on the rising anti, No way I’m losing to a copy.

The doppelganger charged in on Mordie again, holding her halberd out to the side. The real Mordie shook, maintaining her stance as her opposite drew near. She thrusted her spear before her, held vertically as the anti deftly swung hers like a bat. The real forced the other’s spear to the side, to which the anti spun and attacked from the other side, the steel striking Mordie’s bare waist and sending her flying down.

Mordie wearily rolled, face to the dirt, as she attempted to lift herself up. The anti approached listlessly, a flare of evil sparking in her eyes as she
neared the other. “Pathetic,” she nickered disdainfully, “’nd ta think yer the real one o’ us two. This hurts quite a bit.” She forced her foot atop the real Mordie’s back, thrusting her back to the ground. Mordie gagged at this and let out a fistful of blood from her mouth as the side of her face met with the ground once more.

With her foot still atop Mordie’s back, the fake mouse knelt down and lowered herself to the other’s level. Her luscious red tongue slid out from the side of her mouth as her face neared the other’s. “So… why’dyou do it, eh. Ya weren’t satisfied with the route ya took?”

The real Mordie groaned, otherwise unresponsive. The anti grinned widely, “No second chances, yaknow.” She moved her free hand atop Mordie’s head, palm down against her hair. “Ya never wanted ta take Julien’s route, didn’t yas. Ya were never fond of takin refuge under the Lord, eh.” Impetuously, she then gripped Mordie’s head tightly and began to twist her head back and forth abrasively against the dirt, as if she were grinding her face. “Yet you were hesitant – yer scared o’ him, aren’t yas. Scared a whole ton,” her canorous voice sung as Mordie cried through her muffled voice, “Thassit, innit. Y’ou were t’oo scared ta go against him. Takin his orders, his command ‘cause yer too scared ta do anythin otherwise. But some new promisin folk show ‘nd now ya think yer good ta go… Ya donno what yer thinkin’, don’you. Ah mean… lookit y’ou!”

The anti finally dropped Mordie’s head as she rose to her feet, still victoriously standing atop the original’s back. “Thought ya’d enjoy yer freedom
‘nd safety with these new folk instead! ‘be away from that poor ol’ scary monster Julien, eh. But ya ain’t, ain’t yas? Tsk, tsk! Yer so weak!”

The real Mordie grinded her teeth. Determined, she managed to roll towards the anti, knocking off her foot, as she jabbed her halberd towards her calves. The anti leapt off in time, now standing to the side as Mordie struggled in standing herself. She moved her free hand to her waist, drenched in crimson.

Suddenly, uproars of cheers, boos, and laughter rang from the audience. Mordie shifted her direction to and fro – what were they cheering about? Or was—

She caught the two Kenneths from the corner of her eye, far off. One of them had fallen. She bit her lip, unable to tell the difference between the anti and the real fox. It was now apparent that the one standing began heading in the mice’s direction.

“Watch yerself, sweetie,” the anti mouse cooed again, thrusting her spear at Mordie. Shaken, she parried each thrust, both hands on her halberd’s hilt. Her grip slipped numerous times however, due to her bloodied hand sliding about. Eventually, Mordie was knocked back down. Her eyes fierce, the nega approached Mordie once more, the tip of her halberd to Mordie’s open neck. “This is it.” She tipped Mordie’s chin upwards with her weapon’s steel, “Yer done.”

Before the anti could do anything further, she too was knocked down, tumbling into the other Mordie – behind her stood the conman fox, his dagger’s hilt held outward where the anti stood moments ago. By the look in his eyes, both Mordies understood that he was in fact the real Kenneth – and that his anti had fallen.

Kenneth smiled wryly - "This is just great."  Both Mordies rolled away from each other and simultaneously fixed their attention on the fox, wielding the same pleading expression.

Struggling, one of the mice used her planted halberd to guide her to her feet. “You can help me out,” she murmured, “can’t yas, Kenny?”

Enraged, the bloodied one opposite her sliced at her ankles, knocking her back down. The bloodied one then managed to leap back, low on her heels, wincing. She looked to Kenny, eyes sparked with fierce determination. “Kenny! Don’t listen ta her, she’s—”

“Don’t listen ta her,” the other shot back in a mimicking voice, sitting with her legs sprawled beneath her.  A diminutive stream of blood began to leak from her ankle.  “She’s tryin ta trick yas!”

“I ain’t tryin anythin, ya nimwit!” the bloodied one cried back. Nearly tumbling over, she jutted the tip of her halberd behind her against the ground
to propel herself up.  She gripped her waist tightly with her already bloodied hand as she slid back down the pole, sitting in a position nearly identical to her opposite.  Too much blood loss.  Her vision began to blur.  "Gadd..."

Rosebush Maze

“So,” the anti-Glitch began to walk circles around the real one, with what little room they had to move in to begin with, “who’da thought that you’d end up having to fight yourself.” Glitch grinded his teeth, eyes following the evil hedgehog’s every move. The anti laughed, eventually coming to a halt. “It’s a shame Frostbite isn’t here to lighten the mood.”

“Heh. I don’t need Frostbite to tear your ass down, you fake.”

“Ooh, touchy, touchy,” the anti narrowed his eyes as he advanced towards Glitch, who took a step back in response. “Well then. It’s about time we drop this stalemate and dance, shall we, Judas—?”

The anti’s words ceased immediately – the tip of Glitch’s blade brushed against his neck, barely penetrating the scarf that shielded it. Glitch continued to hold his sword in place, firmly, as he snarled back, “Don’t you dare call me by that name.”

“Or what,” the anti chuckled again as he slowly rose his sword to Glitch’s neck as well, mirroring him. “What’re you gonna do, eat me up? Eh? Eat me up just like you did your s—”

“Don’t toy with me, you *ing maggot!” Glitch jerked his sword across the anti, the blade grazing across his scarf with enough force to knock the anti down. He furrowed his brow as he approached his fallen enemy, each step taken with rising vexation.

I hit a weak point.  The anti smirked to himself. Jackpot.

Just as he readied his sword and moved to stand himself, his weapon immediately dropped to the floor - Glitch had begun to walk on top of him as he neared, the tip of his crescent blade mere centimeters away from dissecting his body as it progressed back to his neck.  “I will not let myself be knocked around by the likes of you, you pathetic wannabe worm!” Glitch barked.  His grip on the sword's hilt tightened to the point where the blade began to quake uncontrollably.

Without hesitation, the anti barked back, "So the past still takes a hold on you, eh Judas!?  You can't let go of what happened years ago.  You
can't forgive yourself for what you've done, you heartless prick.  Your sister—what was it, Sarah, right?"  He shook his head his contempt, a widespread grin still stretched across his face from ear to ear.

"You leave Sarah out of this!"  Glitch interjected.  His arm now began to tremble too as his eyes narrowed further with rage.

"Sarah, Sarah, Sarah!" the copy sang.  His scarf had begun to crimson from the minor wound Glitch had left on his neck.  He inched his hand towards the fallen blade as he continued to speak, "You let your anger get the best of you, Judas!  You let yourself--you willingly gave yourself to Frostbite then, didn't you!?  Like the pitiful weakling you are!"

A thud sounded in the distance - Nathan's body.  Neither of the two however turned their attention away from one another.  Glitch sneered
under his breath.  "That wasn't my fault.  You know damned well that wasn't my bloody fault."

"Oh, but it was!"

The anti deftly sliced his sword towards Glitch's ankle, but Glitch immediately averted it, his eyes still on the hedgehog below him.  "You know nothing, you cur."  Glitch's tone of voice lowered significantly, mere steps away from being a whisper.

"All talk and no action," the other replied back. "That's all you've been able to do, this entire trial. Just insult everyone and be walked all over—"

"I will *ing kill you," Glitch said.  Immediately, he plummeted his blade deep into the anti's neck, barely grazing atop his scarf.  The hedgehog let out a series of screams before his voice suddenly came to a halt.  Dead.

But Glitch continued further, his smile crooked, distorted with a hint of ferocity. "'think I'd let ya off easy?  Noooo—I'm going to slice down every last inch of your disgraceful body until you're barely recognizable."

The crowd whispered amongst themselves, but none dared to boo or cheer on the vexed hedgehog, all unsure of how they should react to this turn of events. Glitch continued to relentlessly hack at the dead body beneath him, the uneasy smile still plastered on his face.

Stop, a feminine voice murmured inside Glitch's head, but the hedgehog remained unresponsive to this plea.  She called out again, Judas, stop, please, you've gone too far—

This time Glitch twitched, but otherwise he didn't—

Judas, stop!  Before it's too late, you've got to listen to me!  I know you're still in there!  I know—my brother—

The blade fell to the ground, clinging in the thickening puddle of crimson.  Glitch stepped back uneasily, trembling, eyes on the scarlet fragments before him.  The voices—complimented with blurred images of his sister, a beautiful white hedgehog, trembling with her butcher's knife as she tried to calm the child before her—began to swirl inside his mind... all before suddenly coming to a halt.  He shook his head as he bent down to retrieve his weapon. No, he told himself, no way in hell am I giving into this.

"Cocky bastard," Glitch spat at the dissected scraps before him before about facing and heading off, in the direction he had heard the thud moments ago.

(OOC: ... Eheheheee...I just had an idea...a horrible, awful idea...But I'll save it for later. XP As it's 5 AM and I should be asleep, there will be no IC yet from me.

Also...Now that I introduced Mr. necromancer...I have no idea what to do with him. *facepalm*)

OOC: Wow, Kate. o.o One post from me on Jack and already you've managed to nail his characterisation down perfectly. Even better than I could myself, if I dare say. I really really loved your post, very interesting to see what our villains perspective on our 'heroes' chances are. Very fantastic, gripping stuff, I loved it!

K, quality stuff as always.  I loved Mordie's battle soooo much. n___n Kenneth's going to be having such a hard time! And holy njgjHKANHNH CRAP @ Glitch's fight. I just... wow. I... wow. Glitch you freakishly awesome crazy badass, you.

Hot damn these fights are getting awesome!

Battle Arena, Seats of the Royal Damned

"My leige, my humblest greetings to you," Jack complimented, as he bowed in front of his lord. "I am here for two reasons, my Lord."

"Oh?" Julien muttered in interest.

"I have come to report that all preperations for the second circle have been completed, in preperation for any of our delightful contestants here making their way through this first trial of yours, doubtful though that might be." The 'Ripper' explained, his arms waving out in exagerated motions as he explained his actions. "I know very well how my Lord likes to be fully prepared for everything.

"That is, indeed, true." Julien smirked, as he seated himself down upon his royal throne. "And your second reason?"

"I would be sure that is obvious, good sir. How could one possibly refuse  to bear witness to such an exciting show as this?" Jack smiled his cheshire cat grin that seemed to stretch across his entire face. Julien laughed, he couldn't deny that.

"I also came to offer the good lady Athena here a wager." Jack nodded to himself and towards the seated gothic clad femme. "A wager to bet on which of our delightful contestants down there would be the last to eventually fall."

"Oh? Is that right? And whom did you choose, Athena?" Julien asked. Again, before she could answer, Jack interrupted her.

"She has yet to give a response. I believe she is still mulling over which of these champions she would like to bet on." Jack nodded, again more to himself than anyone, and struck his cane down on the floor twice.

"And what of yourself?" Athena interjected. "You've no doubt already chosen, haven't you?"

"Why, milady, indeed I have! I'm sorry for not indulging my preferred warrior already. That was most rude of me!" Jack exaggeratedly shook his head from one side to the other, before lifting his head back up, his monocle glimmering once more in the dawning sun. "I believe our band of trial runners here to be a most interesting batch of warriors collected, a most particularly amusing show set before us. I find myself agreeing with you, milady Athena on several of your own deductions regarding our players. The warrior woman Lani would naturally be a person's first pick, but I don't believe myself to ever choose the odds favourite. Tends to be a tad less exciting that way, wouldn't you agree? And her overconfidence in her own abilities is sure to be her undoing."

"The second most likely individual would be, after that display at least, one Judas Disember Ihana..." Jack leaned forward, peering his sight towards the ground below, treating his monocle as if it was a magnifying glass of some sorts. "Such a particularly brutal brand of fighting, no doubt. He has displayed himself as a remarkable fighter in all regards! His battle against the trial's first guards. His own holding of himself within the tavern skirmish... and now...!"

Jack tapped his cane again on the ground, as if his body could barely contain his excitement. "Marvelous!!"

"Oh? So you favour our one armed little fighter, hmm?" Julien asked, intriqued at the notion of this wager. "Despite his disability and particularly delicious past?"

Jack shook his head from side to side. "I'm afraid not, good sir, no. Like I said before, I don't back the obvious favourites. No, I made my choice quite some time ago. And, if I'm honest, my good lady Athena, I find it a crime for you to dismiss them so soon. Tragic, really, but thats what makes this wager so interesting~"

"Don't keep us in suspense, then. Out with it." Julien glared.

Jack dramatically swung his cane in the direction of the high platform, his aim firmly centered on one of the fighters atop the platform. Julien and Athena followed the cane's line of sight, and were somewhat surprised by Jack's chosen warrior. "The siamese, Takeshi Hikari!!" Jack triumpthantly declared.

"Oho~" Julien mused, whilst Athena kept her thoughts to herself. Her indignation seemed fairly palpable however. "And pray, tell me, what makes you choose her? She hasn't shown much of herself in this game, and she doesn't seem to have any particular strengths in mind. Don't tell me you chose her simply because she seems to be a wild card?"

Jack's grin was simply beaming. "I believe she hasn't been given enough credit at all." Jack laughed. "She survived the previous trial, where once everyone else believed she had succumbed to a most heinous fate. But look here and now, she is still very much alive and still very much capable of continuing to survive, right until the very end. If that's not an impressive trait, well then, I couldn't hazard a guess what might be. Not to mention, I bore witness to her prowess in her own trial, and was very much so a fantastic specimen indeed. Simply glorious."

"And, with that said, I have to ask you, milady Athena. Have you settled on a fighter?" Jack asked, turning his cane in her direction, before turning it towards Julien. "And you, my leige. Fancy joining us in our little side game?"

Battle Arena Trenches

Kenneth was exhausted. His outward appearance of the cool, calm and collected suited fox, even after his high pitched battle with his negative copy was merely a facade. He was, quite frankly, on his last legs.

His ability committed a tremendous amount of concentration to continually maintain, and he had been employing his ability almost constantly since the very beginning of the trial, first in battling against the raging doberman, again in the pub with fooling the pub owner and escaping the pub brawl unscathed. Not to mention the amount of time he had been investigating the Margay Princess' castle without being seen, employing his belief ability to make sure none of the occupants or guards could spot him. And now, having to be involved in a fast and frantic battle with himself. The amount of delicate concentration it took to be able to keep up his belief illusion's ability in such a tense situation was unbelievable. He was usually a support fighter, getting personally involved in battles simply tired him out all the more quicker.

And since the trial had begun, he had not managed to get a wink of sleep or anything to eat, bar the scrap of bread he had pinched on his way through the Castle's kitchen as a snack. He was wiped out.

The appearance of a beautiful woman such as Mordie, especially now that there was two of them, would normally be just the trick to perk Kenneth back up again. But seriously, he was really exhausted.

He eyed the scene before him. After he had prevented the negative Mordie from brutally finishing off the one and only real sultry mouse, their confrontation and scrap had led both of them to collapsing on the ground, exhausted and injured. It made Kenneth's heart bleed to see a woman injured. And now, both of them were claiming to be the real Mordie, the fake using their identical appearance as a trick to employ Kenneth's aid. If Kenneth was on the top of his game, he could have easily followed both of the mice's movements and be confident in knowing which one was the fake he had struck earlier. But, he was really, really tired.

He seated himself down by the edge of one of the trench's walls, a couple of meters away from both of the Mordies, gingerly making sure not to collapse and break the act that he wasn't really at the top of his game, so that the assembled crowd's around could deduce nothing. Even despite his exhaustion, he was willing to do anything and use the rest of his stamina to help Mordie, but without knowing who was who, it would be a futile gesture to even begin to act.

If one was to succeed, it would have to be through clever strategy. And Kenneth Lay was just the devious fox for clever strategy.

He reached to the backpack he had been carrying since the pub, which was lying nearby on the ground, thrown to the side before his battle with his counterpart. He pulled out a bottle of the booze he had gotten the barkeep to generously supply him with, and taking the lid of, took a deep swig of the simply magical liquid inside.

"How about we just stop fighting?" Kenneth asked. Both of the Mordie's looked blankly towards him. He couldn't be serious? "Let's just quit." He looked intensely in the eyes of both of the real Mordie's. He hoped that the real one would know what Kenneth was like and thinking, even from their limited interactions so far. "You're both tired. I'm tired. I can't tell which one's which, sad to say, and I like to pride myself on knowing everything there is about a beautiful woman. So... let's stop fighting. Let's just give it up, and have a drink. Whaddya say?"

Kenneth took another swig of the drink. He then threw the bottle to the nearest Mordie, who would have been the fake negative version.

Kenneth couldn't really tell how things would play out. His offer for just quitting was genuine though. His hoping was that the fake Mordie however, would be unwilling to quit to fight, no matter what, since its entire purpose was to kill the genuine Mordie. The second the Mordie who acted to fight sprung up, Kenneth would be sure was the fake Mordie... and then he would use what was left of his ability of belief to fool the fake mouse into believing that the real Mordie's attacks were much more powerful than they really were, and that the pain would be more intense.

His whole plan hinged on the real Mordie herself, however. Whether or not she'd be able to tell what Kenneth was thinking, and then be able to defeat her counterpart once and for all with his 'strength up' support. It would require a sense of teamwork that couldn't be verbally communicated, but instead another sense of understanding altogether.

If was either that, or they could genuinely just sit there and drink the rest of the day away. Kenneth wouldn't mind. And who knew? Maybe the fake Mordie was likely to betray Julien too.

Rosebush Maze

Nathan's body was full of hurt. He had been carefully, gingerly making his way down the rocky outcroppings of the high platform's structure in its shadow before getting only about 15 feet above the ground when, unluckily enough, the section of rock he had been gripping onto snapped off completely, and he freefalled off the platfom again, onto the ground below. At least his fall from the top of the high platform had been slowed considerably, and although his body would ache in innumerable pain, from his fake's devastating attack across the whole of Nathan's body and the solid landing on the hard ground below, he was still alive.

A sea of agony, but still alive.

Barely conscious, though. He groaned, lifting his body up as much as he could, and not reaching very far in the process. He could feel himself ready to black out any second now.

"Nathan...?" a somewhat weary and extremely pissed off looking Glitch asked, as he strode towards the fallen Salamander after his personal battle had been completely. "Where the hell did you come from?"

Nathan just looked at Glitch with confusion. His body simply hurt too much, he couldn't even summon the energy to reach his phone out and check the device's contents of files and photos to see if Glitch was there. Assuming the phone was lucky enough to have survived the fall, that was. "W-who... who are you...?" Nathan said weakily.

Glitch raised a hand to his face, rubbing the tension out of his frow. "Just #$%$%$* perfect."

OOC: Evil idea VW? WHatever might that be? xP Don't keep me in suspence now. Don't worry, I'll think of something for Necromancer but it will come later on 😉 I have had it in my thoughts so don't think I've dismissed him > : ) . Lol, I knew that line 'I'm waaaiting' would rattle the REAL Reni's cage xP

Thanks Ash! ^^ Glad I got Jack right. Lol. Apparently Jack the Ripper originally hailed from Whitechapel which is where I used to go to Uni and lived there for 5 years! :eek
And you played Julien excellently! The dialogue between all characters was just well executed, thoughtful and just totally in character. Totally flawless I tell you. Indeed the conversation on the betting is just so entertaining and amusing. Blows my mind xD

And K, told you how much I loved your IC. It must've taken you forever. It was also really an emotional read for both Glitch and Mordie. I've learnt so much more about them. Especially Mordie. If I spent weeks I could not have achieved that much character development.

Well this has been my fav part of the RP. I agree with James and what he said earlier on. All the character interaction is a must and the added fight scenes here... can't fault anyone.

IC from me later. I don't want to run over anyone's post so I'll IC Xell and Seipher next. And the 'damned beings' too. Sadly it's 3:39AM and I have work tomorrow. I should be snoozing.
Night night!!!!

((I rather need to know how Lani's attack on the Nega-Xell went before I can post again...I also thought that it would be possible to distinguish between the real and fake versions for a magic-sensitive person because obviously the copies are magic in nature. If this is not the case, let me know and I'll change my previous post.))

OOc: My apologies Shy, I didn’t realise you had edited your post. I realise you had problems with your comp and all.
Yeah, I’d say Lani and her capacity of sensing the ethereal would justify he ability to distinguish the real Xell from the fake ^^
I’ll take it from here 😉
IC:

Battle Arena
The dark form of Xell eyed his opponent with a tilted glance in a condescending manner. He raised a hand and started wavering his tiger-claw donning fingers as if he was playing a piano. Before lowering it down again. His limbs loose and relaxed.

There was something sinisterly different about the counterfeit Xell that Xell was facing. And it wasn’t just the obvious purpose he’d been constructed for which was to ensure Xell’s demise.

His whole outlook seemed sombre, and above all confident as he maintained an expression which could neither be telling of whether he was angry, or smirking. He stretched his neck with a crack which caused his spike-like hairstyle to flow with it.

“Honestly, look at you, is this really what I’m up against?” Nega-Xell said, talking like a suave street punk “kukukuku, it’s insulting really. Mr. Suicide commando.”

“What do you know of me you wretch?! You don’t know Jack!” Xell shouted back, slashing his claws down in protest which glinted threateningly.

“Oh pulease!” Nega-Xell scoffed with a laugh “I know you so much better than you’ll ever know yourself. I am you…”

“Which means you must have the same strengths and weaknesses,” Xell interrupted.

“Hmmm…” Dark Xell muttered with a sense of blasé thought as he momentarily cast his eyes upwards “well understanding that won’t help you. You still can’t beat me.” Nega-Xell smiled in announcement.
The winds began to shriek, with dust, flint and thorns being scattered around as the two dragons faced each other off with intense silence.

“Furthermore, I, unlike yourself have the capacity to live, outshine and kill you,” Nega-Xell finally added “I mean, people died in your waking lead. So what… so what?!”

The distant faint cries of the warfare flickered in Xell’s mind- a sharp lucid image of several different ways in which his soldiers died briefly passing before his eyes.

“I really am not here to put you on a guilt trip,” Nega-Xell cooed as he sensed his opponent’s surfacing troubles as they began to etch on his face “but continuing to lead your trial runners on like this when you haven’t moved on yourself is going to have the same consequences.”

“Gah. It won’t happen again. I don’t make the same mistakes!!” Xell gave his head a firm shake as he rattled off his fearsome flashbacks. He pulled out his tiger-claws and adopted a stance as if he was about to attack.

“Who’s to say it’s not happening now?! You’ve already let one fall in the form of your disabled scaly friend!” Nega-Xell laughed referring to Nathan, showing his teeth “and now… one by one… I’ll make sure with regards to all your friends. That one by one. You’ll see…”

“…each body hit the floor.”

“Nooooooooooo…” Xell cried defiantly, his face angered and determined as he ran in with a blazing charge towards his counterpart.

“Tiger-claws!” the suave Nega-Xell smiled back, shearing the air open in front of him with his talons which caused the air space to open up with a whoosh and enabled him to step in and disappear. The air space abruptly vacuumed itself up.

The real Xell suddenly skidded to a halt. His face frantically scanning the scene for any signs of his superficial being.

A black space reopened laterally to Xell and a swift kick was delivered to the side of his torso which sent him flying into the air and back down again to sprawl against the floor with a grating skid.

Xell winced as he scrunched his eyes from the dull ache caused from the impacts, and the sharp shooting pains brought about from the grating floor he skidded against. All the while the counterfeit Xell bellowed with laughter in the background.

“Oh dude, that was too easy!” Dark Xell continued to leer as he dangled the claws of his weapon by his side “you’d benefit greatly if you learnt the authenticity of this cool contraption. Please tell me you’re not done… right?”

Xell placed his palms against the ground: the process of getting up and onto his feet weighing heavily on his back as he tried to fight the pain and downcast will.

“Well well… I’ve got the power…” Nega-Xell spoke in a smug, inaudible whisper as he began to make his way to deal the final blow.
Before Nega Xell could continue however, his suave eyes suddenly turned to that of shock and horror as a shadow cast over his face. A wielding blade coming down in his direction.

CLANG

Nega-Xell managed to shield his face as the blade clanged against the talons whilst stepping back in time to avoid getting cut in two. The force of the impact forced him back a couple of paces despite maintaining his feet upon the ground. Standing in defense.

He did, however, find a strawberry gash embedded on his forehead made by the tip of the sword just before he managed to defend himself.

“Lani… Lani…” Nega-Xell shook his head, a look of confusion on his face as he stood with open palms in an honest manner.

“It’s me. Xell. The enemy is over there…” Nega-Xell pointed with his tiger claws towards a weakened Xell on the other side of the platform “we can’t let them get away with tricking us. Of trying to kill us right?”

“What do you say we take them down once and for all?” His smile darkened, as he waited for her answer.
___________

A weakened Xell who had received a roundhouse kick from his counterpart finally mustered the mental and physical strength to push his palms against the ground and lift himself off his feet. Exhaling somewhat as he steadied his tiger claws with consideration. Reflecting upon what his nemesis had just said.

As he lifted his head, his gaze wearily met that of the lady warrior knight. A lone and dark standing individual who was motionless but for her white hair that flowed in the wind. Her sword held out.

“Lani…?” Xell asked, tilting his head weakly before gasping as he found the sharp end pointed towards and centimetres away from his throat.

“Whilst your nativity is endearing and your compassion to protect the knight herself is a noble notion, I think I might enlighten you at this present moment and inform you that you are looking at the wrong copy,” the dark Lani spoke as her eyes glowed intensely.

“Besides… I surely can’t let someone live who has mistaken the crude make-up for a forged superior copy now can I?” the knight smiled faintly, hiding an understated sense of evil.

___________________

Battle Arena, Seats of the Royal Damned

Seated upon his throne, Julien took a moment to observe Jack ‘Ripper’ ‘s jubilant display and mannerisms. Especially his special interests in the trial runner and his most peculiar choice on the winner. Or last survivor to be standing after the bloodshed of this battle. To anyone else other than himself, and perhaps Athena, he would’ve come across as a high-class fabricated, well brought-up gentleman hailing from aristocracy and affluence. However, he also knew that Jack had a chameleon personality. His ability to compartmentalise his behavioural and personality traits to exhibit them at appropriate moments was what crafted his cunning and cruel ability to mass kill in cold blood.

Jack Ripper. Phantom Stalker of Whitechapel murders as Julien recalled in the fables.

“Join you in a wager you say?” the Patriarch mulled over with a smile “my my, seems this game really has lured your fancy. But tell me. Can the Game Master and Manipulator, such as I, really make his own bets?” Julien asked, showing his canine teeth.

“Oh, but I should certainly think so! Wouldn’t you agree milady?” Jack turned to Athena.

“Indeed. I, myself have settled for Judas. And what have you got to lose Master? If the chosen Veteran falls then you can sway events within your favour,” Athena voiced dully, opening the palm of her hand frankly as she spoke.

“Ah, that’s cheating Athena. You know I wouldn’t dream of it…!” Julien spoke with a scathing smile “furthermore, I rather fancy they all fell and proved me right when I addressed them at the beginning of the trial. I wagered back then that they wouldn’t even surpass this Circle.”

Whilst the dark lords conversed amongst each other, a servant in the form of the green dog Zach Maynard stepped along and held a platter of canapés. Athena wrinkled her nose, before reluctantly picking up spring roll, whilst Julien retrieved what looked to be an exquisite sample of Salmon and cheese.

“Well as you say your highness, they will probably all die,” Jack smiled, blanking Zach who continued to stand there with the silver platter of canapés “but you can afford to wager on one at least?”

“I’m sure you feel embaressed by now that I had to make my own way to this event. Without an invite…” Jack added, a dark chuckle in his voice as he insinuated that he was somewhat offended to a lesser or greater degree.

“For the love of Lucifer! Fine then,” Julien shook his head and rolled his eyes dismissively “I predict the last one to stand…” Julien drawed out, his eyes chasing down the Arena rapidly as he mentally assessed his components. The turn of events growing more interesting by the minute which made him grin.

He had his answer. And he felt his hunch was a bit of a cheat given former hi-insight on the character. The trialler’s strength, agility, trickery… and most poignant of them all. His die-hard desire to kill the Patriarch for himself.

“…it’ll have to be Wren-Wren…” Julien tried to say seriously, not long before an evil laugh erupted and echoed throughout the arena.

“Well what an interesting pet name!” Athena scowled and shouted at the same time amidst the laughter. Naturally he comment passing on deaf ears.

Julien composed himself, before turning to look at Jack. His face fading to a blank mask, before re-merging with a light touch that gave off a series of clicks and vacuum suctioning sounds.

“So tell me old chum. What comes of this wager should the winner have betted correctly? Or will the reward come to something dull such as a sense of virtue and guile for good bookkeeping?”

“… oh and care for a canapé?” Julien asked holding his own up, before gesturing towards an annoyed but reserved Zach who continued to ‘stand there’.

Battle Arena Trenches

"Stop... fightin?" the bloodied Mordie smiled weakly at his words, her body limply swaying side to side as her grip on her planted halberd began to loosen. "That's a... fantastic idea, hun... we should... we should..."

At that, the mouse collapsed, landing on her stomach. The Mordie opposite her - the anti merely stared at the unconscious original, wide-eyed. Now was her chance. Her fingers tentatively drummed along her halberd's smooth hilt. She attempted to inch closer to the original, however her broken ankle had hindered her from moving away from her spot. She winced, twitching one eye. "Ah... ah..."

Nervously, the anti-Mordie turned her attention to Kenneth, who merely eyed her back, awaiting her reply. She gritted her teeth and forced half a smile as she reached for the booze beside her. Can't take my chance, she thought to herself as she rose the alcohol to her lips, if he finds out--I'm a goner...

"Ah agree," she finally replied back in almost a stutter, holding out her bottle towards the fox as if to cue for cheers. "We could.. really use some rest... this is a tough, tough battle, wouldn't y'ou agree, Kenny? Ah don't think ah can hold up much longa... 'nd a few sips wouldn't hurt..." Hesitantly, eyes fleeing back to the original Mordie, she began to take minor sips from the bottle - to which her eyes suddenly widened and she immediately spat the drink back out. "N-no, this tastes like..." She tossed the bottle to the side, and the alcohol began to ooze from the opening upon landing. "S... a sedative...? Kenny!?"

Kenneth just watched the events play before him, smiling, eyelids beginning to droop to a close. She took the bait.

The anti-Mordie let out another spit or two before completely collapsing to the floor as well, on her backside as opposed to the original fainting on her front. No other response emerged from either of the two fallen mice - both were at this point completely unconscious. It was only a matter of time before the conman fox would join the duo in a comatose as well, having taken a sip from the toxic drink earlier.

Margay castle Arena

“Hey, Wren!” Glitch called out, to the rabbit who had been beside him just a moment ago.

“Come gimme a hand, with our friend here, would ya?” he motioned towards Nathan who had, just seconds ago, fallen out of the sky.

Two dark, grizzled monstrosities wrestled with each-other with gnarled, mutated appendages until one of them threw the other aside and shouted, “I’m a little busy!” before giving a concerned glance at the series of cuts and beastly teeth marks visible in its own flesh.

Before the anti-Wren could tackle him again, Wren got up on his feet and made a mad dash away from the battle scene, using his monstrous arm to gnash through a wall of rose bushes to open up a path to a secluded area made to resemble a desert marketplace.

“I’ll see you later” Wren acknowledged Glitch in a cold monotone before setting off, dripping blood behind him with his doppelganger scampering after in reckless pursuit. Glitch shook his head and turned to Nathan, “Not even a second glance. Can you believe that guy?” Nathan blinked in response, “uhm… what guy?”

Glitch kicked the ground in frustration. “COME ON!”

---

Wren slid behind an assortment of crates, narrowly avoiding the needle-like projectiles of bone that speedily embedded themselves into the ground in a line, following his wake. Nega-Wren strolled casually through the mock street holding aloft his left arm, transformed into a spiny, bee-hive like structure that pulsated with each step that he took. The arm thrust forward as more bone-needles discharged from the malformed limb, twisting in the air as they soared towards the blurring purple shape that had decided to make a mad dash for another hiding place, inside of a sandstone structure.

“Taking a few creative liberties, aren’t we Julien?” said the voice emerging from Wren’s new hiding place, as the rabbit pulled some bone needles out of his back. “I don’t remember ever using that sort of transmutation.”

The doppelganger smirked as it transformed each of its limbs into elongated, canine claws. Like a hellhound it ran on all fours towards the building, sailing through the air with its tongue lashing at the sky, even as it crashed through the boarded-up window, sending splinters in all directions. The hound-like monster panted excitedly as its head darted around in search of its prey. It let out an agitated growl as it failed to locate it.

From the darkness a set of jaws lashed out at the beast, but narrowly missed as it leapt into the air and gracefully landed in its neutral form once more. The jaw receded back into the dark as a pair of glowing eyes pierced through the shadows and stared blankly at the smug looking doppelganger.

Nega-Wren’s shoulders heaved as he chuckled at his counterpart’s expense, “It’s useless, you know.” The eyes in the darkness narrowed in response. The doppelganger smiled as it continued, “I’ve been created in your image, prior to the placement of Julien’s curse upon you. Not quite at full power, of course, that wouldn’t be very fun to watch. However the versatility is still there. I can do everything you can do...” The creature raised its arm to show off a sequence of strange metamorphoses, each more grotesque than the last, “…and much more.”

“Oh? You really think you know all of my capabilities?” said the eyes in the darkness.
“I know everything about you.” Mused the doppelganger.

Wren’s face became illuminated as he stepped forward to confront his double. “Humor me.”

The doppelganger gave a quizzical look. “I’m going to die at your hand, aren’t I? You said yourself that it’s useless for me to try, right?” said Wren pulling one last bone needle out of his flesh, “So before I die, humor me.”

The nega-Wren casually crossed its arms and sat on the windowsill, breaking off pieces of loose timber as it spoke and playing with them in its gnarled appendages, “Very well.”

“Augustus Wren. In life, a Demonologist. Always a diligent study, quite brilliant for a man in a field that was known for driving its researchers insane.” Nega-Wren smiled, “But you were far from an exceptional case. Once your studies led you to confirm that The Rapture was indeed coming, you lost your mind.”

Wren remained motionless and expressionless as his smiling double continued his analysis, “Heh. The knowledge of The Rapture drove you to kill her, the one woman who ever loved you and the very same woman who took your hand in marriage. You even went to all the effort of ritually sacrificing her.”

Again, Wren remained expressionless.

“And for what?” the doppelganger spoke with a mocking smile on its face, “Simply for a chance at earning the Overlord’s favor in the afterlife… you greedily did it to secure yourself a seat of power in hell. Your lust for power led you to seek a place among the dark one’s ranks of black knights; ranks that you continued to ascend until you achieved the grand title of Knight Captain.”

“And the best part is…!” the anti-Wren was holding in laughter at this point, “…the best part, is that it still wasn’t enough for you! Your deranged greed could not be satisfied, you had to have more, you had to have the Overlord’s throne and now… you’ve lost everything!”

Nega-Wren let out a sinister laugh, opening its mouth wide as it did so, revealing rows upon rows of teeth, more than what could ever be considered human. “You’ve. Lost. Everything. You spent all your life studying, sacrificed the only woman who ever loved you, died a painful death, suffered at the hands of the Overlord, weathered the trials of Black Knighthood and betrayed any comrades you earned along the way; fellow black knights, Jack the Ripper, Lady Athena… The Patriarch.”

Still, Wren remained expressionless.

“And now, here you are! After everything you’ve lost, you stand here, worn out, alone and empty-handed; Trying in vain for a chance at the unattainable, knowing full well that your first attempt at the Overlord’s life was a complete and utter failure. How far down you’ve fallen, lower than the bottom of the deepest of hell’s pits.”

Nega-Wren hopped off the windowsill and began to crack its knuckles in anticipation. “You’ve been nothing more than an amusing toy for the Patriarch, one that he’s recently grown quite tired of. Your existence sounds really pathetic once you hear it all out aloud, doesn’t it, Augustus?”

The real Wren’s blank expression began to contort into an all-too-familiar smile and the smug grin on Nega-Wren’s face began to recede as its original counterpart erupted into laughter.
“What’s so funny?” asked the doppelganger, clearly annoyed.

“Are these really your beliefs about me, Julien?” Wren smiled at the creature before him, “everything this automaton of yours has just said? Well, I’d say you’re only half right about me.”

“Julien isn’t here.” snarled the duplicate, “It’s just you and I, so don’t waste your breath.” With that, the creature’s arm transformed into a long, flat shape. Thousands of tiny teeth began to line the sides of the flesh construction, teeth that then began to move at an incredible speed, roaring with life and giving the entire limb the appearance of a monstrous organic chainsaw, complete with a red gaseous fume being exhausted out of a set of gill-like vents along the bicep. “But I’ll make sure he hears you scream.” The creature grinned.

Wren lifted his arm, “He can hear me well enough already.” he said with a blank monotone, bringing his fingers together, “But not for long.”

Chaos erupted, the moment Augustus Wren’s fingers clicked.

---

Weapons Chamber, moments ago.

‘Ghoulie’ as he had come to be known, floated motionlessly as he kept his gaze fixed on the young bio-mechanical rabbit and her friends discussing the plethora of weapons arranged neatly on the wall. He silently wished they would come to a conclusion soon, as time was of the essence.

The specter was taken by surprise when a fuzzy purple arm wrapped around him and pulled his head close to its owner’s.

“I’m not going to stand around waiting for those idiots to finish discussing the history of weapons all the way back to the dawning of the bronze age” growled Wren, bringing the shadowy being closer, “I want my turn. I don’t care much for anything on these walls. Now, riddle me.”

With a sound like a blanket being thrown around, Ghoulie slipped out of Wren’s embrace and straightened up in front of him.

“Very well” he said, in his deep, resonating voice, “I have-“

“The answer is: ‘a brain.’ ” Wren responded, immediately.

The skeletal being leaned over momentarily and quickly rattled itself back into an upright position.

“…how did you-?”

Wren waved his hand dismissively while looking off to the side, “Please, I’ve heard all of these before. I’m particularly fond of the ‘coffin’ one.”

Ghoulie lowered his head ever so slightly. If his skull was capable of showing an expression of frustration at the rabbit’s arrogance, it would most certainly be doing so.

“You may make one wish. You may not wish for anything that-”

“Yes yes, I understand the rules.” Wren took a moment to contemplate.

Weapons were unnecessary in Wren’s eyes, as were armour. Power was all Wren really wanted at this point in time, but what sort of power?

To wish for the inhibitor curse to be purged from his soul would be out of the question. The rules of the wish dictate that you may not wish for a power challenging that of any of the underworld’s gods. The curse Julien inflicted upon him could not be tampered with with anything below such power, hence why Wren had to take advantage of the effects of Julien’s vortex in order to alleviate some of the curse’s effects to the extent that he has.

In doing so, he accidently caused the formation of his new flesh to go awry, afflicting him with some kind of illness of some sort; the effects of which were already visible in his reaction to interacting with other vortexes as well as his trembling fits.

Wren had humored the idea of requesting for his damages to be reversed, but by doing so he would ultimately be interfering with his tampering on the inhibitor curse, which was now in an unstable state. To tamper with its connection to his physical form once more could cause any number of undesirable and unpredictable consequences.

To gain power, Wren had plenty of other means already available. The only problem with that was the fact that Julien would always be one step ahead of him. It was with that realization that Wren decided to level the playing field.

With a grin, Wren made his decision known.

“Ghoulie, is it? I have made up my mind.”

The specter approached Wren as the rabbit gestured for him to come closer, so he may whisper his wish, incase Julien was listening.

Wren pointed to his own eye, “That pampered, girly-man of a patriarch has always got his eye on me. Always watching, using that network of scrying magic through a crystal ball whenever he wants.”
He lowered his hand and crossed his arms, “I want to be invisible to that network.”

Ghoulie tilted his head.

“I want myself and all of my actions to be rendered undetectable and incomprehensible to the srying network. If Julien wants to know what I’m doing, he can use conventional methods like everyone else.”

“Such a wish is impossible.” Said Ghoulie, a subtle hint of annoyance audible in his deep tone.
“To grant such a wish would be exceeding the power of the lords who established the scrying network. I can do no such thing.”

“Tell me, Ghoulie…” Wren interrupted, “What are the names of those that created the scrying network?”

The spirit’s eyes flickered for a moment as it searched it’s arcane knowledge banks for the necessary information to answer that question.

“One, ‘Lord Ripper’ in collaboration with former Knight Captain Augustus Wren-“

“Yes, ‘Augustus Wren’, the very SAME ‘Augustus Wren’ who stands before you.”

Ghoulie contemplated this for a moment.

“I didn’t create the scrying network on my own, I didn’t have the sheer power for it, that was Ripper’s job, but I did aid in designing it.” Wren evaluated, “And if I’m one of its co-creators, then it can’t be considered to be on a purely ‘godly’ level, thus my wish is valid. If you do insist that it’s indeed a ‘godly’ construction, then that would mean that I am worthy of a wish challenging the power of the so called ‘gods’, anyway.”

“Very well.” Spoke the specter, “You may have your wish, but not for acknowledgement as a lord of hell, for you are nothing of the sort. I grant your wish on the basis that the scrying network is indeed not a pure construction of godly power.”

“Agreed” said Wren, very smugly. “Now, I have one last condition for my wish.”

“You are overstating your privileges, Augustus Wre-“

“I ask only that my wish come into effect after I snap my fingers, and not a moment before. I want to surprise our dear Julien.”

“This is acceptable. It will be done.”

“Good good.” said Wren, turning on his heels and rubbing his hands togehther, “Heh, excellent.”

As he brought his attention back to his immediate surroundings, Wren could see that Ghoulie had moved on to give something to the dragon known as ‘Xell’.

Wren grinned sinisterly. Another spanner had been thrown into Julien’s works.

---

Margay castle Arena – Standby Pit

Jacob tapped the glass surface of the crystal ball he’d been given for the event. There was nothing displayed inside of it but static, like one would see on a television tuned into a channel without a feed coming through.

“Xell Rhinestone. Hikari Takeshi. Kenneth Lay.”

With each of the names that he spoke out aloud, the ball flickered to life, displaying an observer’s point of view of the subjects requested by its user, as it was expected to when connected to an uplink of the scrying network.

“…Augustus Wren.”

Nothing but static.

“This isn’t good.” Muttered Jacob, anxiously looking around the arena to see and hear a large mass of upset spectators growing increasingly irate at the fact that one of the many large holographic screens surrounding the arena, the one dedicated to tracking Wren’s movement, was displaying the very same thing as his crystal ball.

---

Margay castle Arena – Overlord’s Private Viewing Nest

“… oh and care for a canapé?”

Jack couldn’t give a reply before he noticed the expression on the Overlord’s face immediately change. Following Julien’s gaze, everyone in the room became aware of exactly what the problem was.

“Well, that’s odd.” said Athena in a slightly curious tone of voice. Julien didn’t say a word as he wolfed down his snack, rose from his chair and stood closer to the glass wall overlooking the arena, drawing a small crystal ball out from inside his jacket pocket as he did so.

“Augustus Wren” he spoke, slowly and clearly, into the artifice, only to receive the very same static visible on one of the holographic monitors that hung above the glass viewing wall of the room. He spoke it several times and was met with the same result each time. Suddenly his phone began to ring, emitting a somewhat inappropriately happy tune as it did so. Julien brought the device to his ear and immediately put it away again when he realized it was only Jacob, calling to tell him about what he’d already noticed.

“What does this mean, Julien?” Athena asked with a mocking tone, “Is your golden boy dead?”

“No my dear, he isn’t dead. The screen would display an image of a skull and crossbones, if that were the case.” Jack described as he leaned forward with a hand to his chin, silently inspecting the monitor and comparing it to his survey of the happenings on the arena floor, as well as the reactions of the audience. He scratched his chin, locked in contemplation.

“Ah-ha!” announced Jack, clapping his hands together in excitement and leaning back into a comfortable position. “I know what he’s done. He’s found a way to make himself immune to the effects of the scrying network. And here I thought it could only ever be done with runes, none that would work when drawn upon living flesh...”

Athena leaned over toward Jack with a slight display of interest, “So how’d he do it, then? Did he tamper with the magic?”

Jack shook his head and chuckled, “Highly doubtful, my lady. Most likely he’s taking advantage of an exploit in the wish system. I could probably fix it, but I would have to conduct an investigation…”

“…But some other time.” Jack said, placing his hands behind his head and crossing one leg over the other, “I’m already quite settled in at the moment. Besides, it won’t be a quick job, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, that miserable little rodent.” fumed Julien, obsessively surveying the arena floor in search of the dark rabbit.

“Do look on the bright side though, Julien” said Athena with a mischievous smile on her face, “at least this improves your odds, right?”

Julien moved his finger discretely, commanding an invisible spectral limb to knock the tray of delicacies out of Zach’s hands, sending a collection of savories and dipping sauces cascading onto Athena, sullying her gothic attire.

“Tough luck, my lady.” said Jack, spoken like a true gentleman.

The she-fox gasped in surprise, as did Zach as he stood there wondering what had happened and immediately felt overwhelmed with a desire to disappear. Especially as Athena regained her composure enough to grab him by the collar and pull him close to her, bringing him close enough to fill his vision with one of the most terrifying things he’s ever seen.

“Uhh... a thousand pardons, Lady Athena.” he whimpered, hoping in vain that she wouldn’t lose her temper.

“You’re going to pay for that, little man.” she growled as she sent Zach tumbling across the room before picking up the tray and throwing it at him. Zach didn’t say another word as he raised his arms to protect his face, scrambling to clean up the floor faster than the metal tray could fall flat on its surface.

Julien pretended to clear his throat as he held in a chuckle. “You do raise a good point, dearest Athena” he said, still trying to hold in a laugh, “I suppose this does put the odds in my favor.”

When he felt confident enough to maintain his composure, he turned around to face the sight of Athena angrily snatching a towel out of Zach’s extended hand, and Jack quietly smiling to himself.
“Getting back to business, friends…” Julien mused, “What are the stakes of our little bet?”

---

Margay castle Arena – Floor

“Where are you? WHERE ARE YOU?”

Aimlessly, the false Wren slashed its roaring mutant weapon around the air, slashing apart wooden crates and carving giant gashes into the walls. With an expression like a scared child, its eyes darted around in paranoia, passing over the silent figure of Wren many times but never settling on him. Constantly it shouted his name, taunting him with a hint of panic in its voice, mocking him in the hopes that he would reveal himself when in reality he was standing before it, as plain as any eyes could see; calmly whittling a broken piece of wood to a rough point using the teeth on his mutant jaw.

When the beast had its back turned to him, Wren leapt forward and drove the makeshift stake into its back, causing the beast to stop moving. Wren’s face remained emotionless as he drove the weapon further. The beast did not cry out in pain, nor did it seem to notice what had happened. It just stood there, locked in a state of maddening confusion.

“I knew your senses were linked to the network.” Wren said, in a cold, menacing voice, the usual malicious delight completely absent from his tone, as if he had become another person.

“The moment you spouted all that nonsense about me, I knew you weren’t really a duplicate at all, just a simple automaton fed with information gathered from the scrying network; information that Julien thinks is true.”

“I…” the beast muttered, “I don’t… This… Why…” it continued to speak but could not string together a coherent sentence.

“It’s fascinating, seeing your reaction to this.” Wren spoke like an emotionless observer as he methodically twisted the stake around in his doppelganger’s back, “Your sensory perception of all things associated with my existence in this world is linked to what’s perceived by the network. Now that I’m invisible to it, you can’t comprehend anything I do, physically or mentally.

“There’s a wooden stake driven into your body, but you don’t know it’s there. You can’t feel it, yet at the same time you can perceive that something is wrong with your spine.”

Wren transformed his arm into the familiar shape of a monstrous jaw, sinking its teeth into the shoulder of his doppelganger and wrenching with all his might as the jaw sunk down, eventually tearing off the creature’s arm completely, severing it from the rest of its body.

The creature fell to its knees and brought its other hand up to its scalp, grabbing at its own hair and staring blankly in a state of madness at the ground below it, unable to comprehend the presence of a large pool of blood gathering at its feet.

“I’ve just severed your arm.” said Wren, without a hint of satisfaction and in stark contrast to his monstrous arm that enthusiastically gnashed at the bits of flesh stuck between its teeth with a life of its own.

“You want to move that arm, but you cannot. Yet, you cannot perceive that it’s gone. You don’t see the blood at your feet, you don’t see your severed arm flailing uselessly at your side, you don’t taste the blood gathering in your throat, you don’t smell the exposed flesh, you don’t feel anything…”
Wren moved in close to the creature and silently brought that jaw of his mutant arm around its neck. It salivated with anticipation.

“…you haven’t even heard a word I’ve been saying.”

As its mind began to snap, the nega-Wren began to laugh uncontrollably as bloody tears streamed down its face. It didn’t feel the teeth sinking into its neck and took no notice of the sound of its own voice being choked away.

“It has lost its mind already?” analysed Wren, “Such a poor attempt at a copy.

“Julien truly has no idea what I am.”

The room fell into silence as the jaw closed shut. A severed head rolled to the dark corner of the room as its former body crumpled to the ground, the expression on its face locked into a perpetual frightened stare.

Wren walked away in silence, keeping his back turned to his recently slain foe, whose artificial form combusted into venomous green flames, turning to smoldering ashes and fading into nothingness at an unnatural speed, leaving nothing behind.

“And he never will.”

---

Margay castle Arena – Floor

“Son… of… a… bitch…” muttered the doppelganger of Kenneth Lay, lying in its own blood, abandoned after its opponent had fled the scene of their battle. Finally it was able to weather its injury and lift itself onto its knee. It smirked sinisterly as it popped a cigarette into its mouth and patted around its pockets in search of a lighter.

“This fight isn’t over yet, chump. Not by a longshot.”

The cigarette fell out of the doppelganger’s mouth as its jaw fell and its eyes widened. Its eyes darted around in panic as it both did and didn’t feel the teeth against its neck.

“Who… I… This… I don’t…” it blathered in madness.

It didn’t feel the jaw close around its neck, nor did it feel its head being torn from its body as it was systematically removed.

In its final moments, it didn’t even hear the monotone voice behind it say, “They will thank me, later.”

OOC:

Just wanted to add something for you, Ash. Jack the Ripper's working relationship is still open to whatever interpretation you want. For all we know, he only ever collaborated with Wren on work for Julien through outsourcing or some other form of correspondence, he may have never actually met Wren.

This means that when he seemed to know nothing about the nature of Wren's betrayal, this is still quite valid. For all we know, he never actually met Wren, or he did but he was not present when the event took place and thus knows nothing about exactly what happened.

I'll leave that all up to you, as he is your character. Don't feel pressured into any of these decisions. As always, I look forward to what you will do with all of your characters, let alone Jack.

OOC: Awesome stuff all around, people! I'm loving the developments and everyone's writing has been fantastic... I think we've all managed to really turn things up a notch lately. Everyone's writing has become so much better, we should all be proud. N_____n

Gripping read, James. Truly gripping. As in, Wren's monstrous arm biting your head off gripping. Great stuff, love the allusions to a possible Wren/Jack relationship. Good stuff, I haven't got anything planned atm but we'll develop things as they come and see where they go, I might get a flash of inspiration as we go along. n___n Genius stuff. Honestly, the finest group of rpers I have ever had the pleasure to work with! Top quality stuff Kate, Kim, Violet, Shy, James and K!

IC:
Margay castle Arena – Overlord’s Private Viewing Nest

Jack could only watch in quiet amusement at the development involving the fair Athena and her now stained dress. On the one hand, it wasn't right for such a beautiful lady as herself to have to suffer such an indignation. On the other hand, it was indirectly caused by Julien, the lord Patriarch himself, so questioning it was completely out of the question. He adjusted his monocle as he continued to watch the events in the arena unfold. His mind was already hard at work like clockwork assessing the damage caused to the scrying network by the obvious perpertrator, Wren. It made the game a lot more interesting.

“Getting back to business, friends…” Julien mused, “What are the stakes of our little bet?”

Jack's attention was refocused to the matter at hand. He tapped his cane on the floor twice, nodding to himself enthusiastically as he did so.

"Ah, you are of course right, my lord. The no such small matter of our wager. Well..." Jack began. "I suggest we produce our own wagers individually. Our own rewards of the other two for our success. Afterall, I know what I may want, but I cannot hazard a guess what your lordship and the fair lady Athena may wish to wager for. After all, what do you give the man who already has everything?"

Jack nodded to himself enthusiastically. Julien chuckled his sinister laughter. "I see." He said. "And tell me, 'Ripper', what reward would you want if you were to win our wager?"

The victorian gentleman's smile grew sinisterly large once more, the top of his face darkening in shadow. "By your grace, my dear lord, I would like the eternal souls of all our players here, to use for my own personal enjoyment and amusement." Jack bowed. "A reward you could quite easily give me should perhaps my chosen warrior, Takeshi Hikari succeed."

"Tsk, and what would you want from me?" Athena asked, done with the server Zach as she walked back to her seat, not entirely sure whether or not she should leave to rechange her attire.

"I would desire what every male here in this domain and the realms beyond would desire, my lady. A simple evening of dinner and a kiss would suit me perfectly!" Jack laughed.

Athena groaned. Julien chuckled once more.

"Are the terms of the reward to my success to each of your satisfaction?" Jack asked, bowing before both. "Know that I am willing to commit to either of your terms."

Jack's face could not be seen, shrouded in the darkness as his bending down blocked any viewing of his form. Before the telltale sound of a vacuum and clockwork clicks that followed the blank white mask upon his face, his face was etched with the most sinister and devious smile imaginable. What exactly was going through the almost unassuming gentleman's mind was unknown to all, but needless to say it spelt an import of terror and malice.

Margay castle Arena: Rosebush Maze

"Can you move?" Glitch asked, in disbelief as he looked Nathan over and the horrifying wound that descended across his entire body.

"I'm still alive, I guess... so that's something..." Nathan replied in staggered breaths.

"Can you believe the nerve of that guy?" Glitch asked, sighing loudly after Wren's dissapearance.

"Yes... no... maybe? I don't know...?" Nathan hissed as a burst of pain shot throughout his body.

"Man o'man, I really don't know any medicine to be able to treat you, y'know..." Glitch muttered, wracking his head with the answer for what may aid the bleeding salamander.

"I c-can... keep for now... m-maybe you should help that other guy..." Nathan weakly stuttered.

"Other guy...?" Glitch looked around, his eyes lighting up as he recognised the three tailed fox Seipher in a high pitched gun battle with his own negative copy. "Geez, guns... I'm not too sure about that...

"If we a-all help each o-other... the sooner we might be d-done with this place..." Nathan suggested, his mind incoherent, moreso than usual.

"Wait a minute." Glitch stated, his eyes lighting up as he came to a realisation. The forest clearing, only short moments ago. His and Wren's emergance from a twisting vortex that took them from the tavern brawl they were once involved to the forest where they rejoined their companions. And the remembrance that the vortex teleportation had led him to regaining his energy back once again.

It was a small shot. Maybe if they could get this trial over and done with quickly, then they would be spirited on to the second circle and the next trial, and through the vortex of their transportation, maybe Nathan's wounds would be healed and their energy regained.

There were no guarantees. Who was to say what Julien's twisted game would lead to. Whether or not defeating these negative, parallel copies of themselves would complete this circle. But there was a chance. They had to defeat the twisted shadow copies of themselves regardless, and Glitch's only current guarantee was that Nathan was dying.

"...I'll do what I can to end all of this." Glitch said with a newfound confidence. "Just hold on, Nate."

"...whatever you... say... whoever you are..." Nathan murmured with a smile, before finally blacking out.

Margay castle Arena: Trenches

Kenneth grinned to himself.

He could barely see anything anymore as the sedative he had consumed pushed his eyesight slowly towards darkness, but he was happy at least to see that the fighting between the two Mordie's was over. He couldn't tell how severe their wounds were. But he hoped, he prayed at least, that she wouldn't die anytime soon. He prayed that what he did was somehow enough.

He chuckled to himself, lost in his own world.

His half opened eyes suddenly widened in intensity and anger. He couldn't summon the strength to lift his head up, but the menacing prescence he could at least sense, walking from the direction he had left his defeated copy in was enough to make the fur stand up on the back of his neck. He could see, in an unfocused image, the lower body of the new arrival.

Kenneth glared.

"You do anything to hurt her or me, I swear to god I will crawl out of that hellhole again and make you regret ever considering it." Kenneth snapped.

The prescence paused, and looked towards Kenneth.

"Is that right?" it asked.

"You damn well know it is." Kenneth's anger began to subside and fade, before he started to smile again. "Haha. You know how valuable I am to still be around, what I can offer to the table. So if you dare try to do anything to me, then thats just going to make things worse for you in the long run."

"...and her?" The form asked, after a pause.

"I just said not to even consider it. She lives. No exceptions." Kenneth gritted.

"...fine."

"Good." Kenneth smiled, his body collapsing back against the trench wall as his body and mind succumbed to sleep. "Nighty night..."

IC:

The doppleganger smirked, crossing her arms. "Intriguing. I'll win you know. I have the power of the Underworld on my side. It'd be easier to give up now." She looked at her claw-like fingernails. "So...what'd you have in mind?"

I sure hope this works...If not, I'm dead... "Ok...Deal is this...We run down the length of this canyon. I think I see a lava lake out beyond it..."

"Yeah, so?"

"So...as soon as we leave the canyon...it's five laps around the lava lake, and then back into the canyon and to this point here." Serenity scratched a line in the dirt with her toe.

"Psssh. only five laps? You must not want to get out of this trial very badly."

Serenity bristled. "Ten laps then."

"Deal. What's next, Goodie-Two Shoes?"

Serenity ignored the taunt. "Couple rules. No direct physical attacks. If you do, the deal's off."

"What makes you think --I-- would do that?" The simulacrum said sweetly.

"Don't pull that 'false innocence' stuff with me. You're the evil doppleganger. There's nothing 'innocent' about you!"

"Touche. Get on with it."

"Don't you DARE try to use my line again!"

The doppleganger yawned. "Wouldn't DREAM of it."

"Yeah right. Anyway...no direct physical attacks--"

"--You said that already."

Serenity glared at her copy, speaking through clenched teeth. "Indirect attempts at tripping me up is fine. As are verbal taunts."

"Are you done? Can we get this race over with so I can destroy you already?"

"'Get this race over with?' You know I would never say something like that, don't you?"

"...So?"

"..."

"What? If you don't do something soon, I'm just gonna attack you again. I grow board of this talking nonsense."

"Grrr...FINE. I have no more rules. Let's race!"

"Yer signing yer own death certificate, you know, PRINCESS."

"Taunt all you want, I'M going to win!"

TBC

OOC: Wow wow, I have some catching up to do. Read James' and Ash's posts and real masterpieces is all I have to say. Poor Athena :lol. ON a serious note, it's unbelievable what character depth has come of all the OC's. Haven't seen anything like it!
Anyway I will be away for a couple of days at a Dental conference so will post in a day or two. Or sooner depending on com facilities and all that jazz.
Cheers! 🙂

EDIT: Oh, just read Reni's post. Now that was classic as well xD Indeed I agree with Ash, wonderful stuff all around from everyone. I don't wanna go on this conference now x(

Lani didn't hesitate. She immediately swung her blade back around in an attempt to slice off the fake Xell's head, even as he tried to convince her he was the genuine article. She needed to finish this quickly, as she notes her copy has gone after the real Xell. He would no doubt need support to fight her alter, even as she herself did. If her strike did not succeed, she followed it with a swift series of strikes and stabs, not letting up for a moment. She had the advantage, at least for the time being.

[[ Oh wow, they screwed up the Post numbering when they moved from yuku to here, now I have to read from Post 1 from start to finish all over again to make sure i got everything x_x oh well, at least I can still refresh myself on what happened here ]]

No IC here as I am no longer taking part in the RP (incl. F3). I doubt any of you actually noticed, but I felt I should actually let all of you know. Good luck with the story and character developments and i with you all the best and enjoyments.

Ooc: Kind of figured that one out Jim but glad you let us know all the same. I'm sure I can make a plan to guide Scar and Margay our as NPC's. We did notice and I would've summarised the whole RP just for you had you asked and I offered on numerous occassions. If it's a struggle to keep up then understandably this is not the RP for you but I won't go back with what I said in that your posts had their own unique hard work and exceptional quality and charm. But like, you need to communicate. I can't read peoples' minds so I can't address issues or concerns that are unspoken.
Going to start a casual RP (not as advanced and less work) with a DA friend who will be new here so you're more than welcome to join that if you wish. If not, well, nice rping with ya.

Post tomorrow, in a CPD lecture and still in Manchester. The joy of iPhone msging!

Ooc: Kind of figured that one out Jim but glad you let us know all the same. I'm sure I can make a plan to guide Scar and Margay our as NPC's. We did notice and I would've summarised the whole RP just for you had you asked and I offered on numerous occassions. If it's a struggle to keep up then understandably this is not the RP for you but I won't go back with what I said in that your posts had their own unique hard work and exceptional quality and charm. But like, you need to communicate. I can't read peoples' minds so I can't address issues or concerns that are unspoken.
Going to start a casual RP (not as advanced and less work) with a DA friend who will be new here so you're more than welcome to join that if you wish. If not, well, nice rping with ya.

Post tomorrow, in a CPD lecture and still in Manchester. The joy of iPhone msging!

Yay! Another new awesome rp to join n___________________n

And yeah, I have to agree with Kate's sentiments in that its a shame to see you leaving this rp and F3. I'll see what I can do with Neo Lucie in F3, I thought she was a pretty interesting character with potential.

Also 😯 Kate @ bringing even more new rpers to the forum. I love you so much for that! <3 The more the merrier!

[[ I MIGHT still come back, I am just having to very stressful month (Kate knows about it), to a stage that thinking about RPs was just not possible.

Pach, if you have any questions about Neo Lucie just ask me on msn or something, i'll still be on there. ]]

((*squeal* I wanna join the new rp too!))

OOC: Oh wow, thanks Ash and Shy xD Now I won't have to worry too TOO much about a deficiancy and such. Still drafting it out at mo xD

Will update this RP soon! Only just got home late last night *dies*

Well don't stress yourself out RC. Free to return as you will and RPing is a source of stress for you I agree it's worth putting it on hold indefinitely.

Have to say to everyone else, new and old friends I've made through rping and off the record chats, and working with you on this RP and others that without you I probably wouldn't have got through a really bad patch I went through last month. Things are better but can't articulate the extent of my thanks to you all for such wonderful rping, having the priviliege of knowing your OC's and writing your stories and endless quality-filled team workings!

btw, I tend to sketch the BR cast a lot in my own free time (like when I am waiting for trains and dull times with nothing to do- but time goes quickly when I draw). To cut a long story short, don't 'exactly' what the following OC's look like:
Kenneth, Nathan, 'Ripper', Mordie (I know the human form K xD), Lani, and Jacob. Anyone happen to have leads on those? Not a necessity but it's nice!

I'm sounding cheesy now. Must update soooooooooooooon > D

OOC: Mordie's mouse form is pretty much the same as her human form, just with a long mousey tail and pierced mouse ears && whiskers. Pitch-black fur too. The "hair" (told you about it already I think? xD) is white. No clue about the eyes, so you could just.. do what you want with those I guess xD. I've kind of lost my motivation for drawing again (it comes and goes every other month :/), so I probably won't have one done of her anthro form anytime soon.

Looking forward to your update, Kate. <3

((Lani has long, straight white hair. It probably goes to about her waist. Her eyes are a very pale grey, and her bust size is actually proportionally small. In this instance, she probably wears pants made from denim or something that resembles leather, and a long sleeved shirt in lavender. She's of medium height, and I /do/ have a picture, but as I said before it gives away her biggest secret so I can't show you yet. As for her sword, it is a bastard sword worn on her left, attached to a broad leather sword belt. The crossguard is fashioned to resemble unfurled dragon wings, with a smooth stone of variable color set between them. The scabbard is black leather with a delicate interlace pattern tooled in silver.))

What's that I hear you say? You want delicious Kenneth/Nathan concept art? Only too happy to help! <3

Jack will have to come later |D

OOC:
Thanks for the descriptions K and Shy! Oh I nearly called you Lani Shy xD Had to correct. But that’s a good vivid description from the both of you. And no probs Shy about keeping certain aspects a secret. Can’t wait to see some revelations ^_^
Ash, oh my lordy!!! Nice one!! Those are stunning pictures of Kenneth and Nathan dude. <333
Kenneth bares an uncanny resemblance to what I had in my mind. He looks suave, smug and confident. The suit is damned pristine, authentic and just slickly ubercool!! I bet its Emporio Amani xD I see that killer knife and the smoke (cancer stick tut tut!!) and his expression really looks devious. But also composed and like he constantly assesses and questions everything. So kudos on that. His hairstyle is also a fantastic touch to this. Well kempt and groomed to suit him.
Fantastic adaption of Nathan there! Not sure how I initially pictured him. Probably like Xell before I saw your pic but much less dragony. Not because I wanted to but my mind goes for the quickest reference of sort. At least I didn’t go for a Sonic image in my head?
Anyway he looks fantastic. He looks a lot more cunning and suspicious than I thought. The hoody makes him look stealthy and thief-like I think.Or perhaps really cautious. But love the determined look and the unique cloth attire assemblage and the rapier seems to suit him REALLY well as well.

The quotes made me laugh too xD. I bet everyone hears ‘I’m Nathan, who are you?!’ 99 times a day.
And ‘everything is a con waiting to happen’? Nice to know Mr. Modest looks on the bright side of life!!
Well that was long, feel like I am back on DA. Thanks for that though! Now it’s vivid and yep, I’ll be sketching them alright. And Mordie and Lani too!
BTW this next post is long but rubbish. I apologise but I’m still recovering from sleep deprivation. And I can’t sleep right now either. How to win.. how to win ?

High platform

A panorama of ominous white, godly light blared throughout the scene as Lani dealt her moves towards the counterfeit Xell. A slice delivered towards the neck, followed by a torrent of swift quick attacks served by her sword.

The scene resumed to its former landscape configuration shortly after. The fighting figures, atop a platform of dizzying heights from the grounds and thorn bushes below. With hissing and booing crowds, shrieking black dragons in the air- and the dark underworld syndicate watching from the high spectator’s platform. The Overlord himself amongst them. Watching. With deep, brooding red eyes.

Lani landed effortless before Xell.

He had hardly even seen the blade move.

Yet he continued to stand there. Smiling. A mocking and shady smile on his face that would be enough to enrage someone to attack again on emotional impulse.

His smile suddenly broke as a web network of lacerations began to perforate throughout his whole body. Followed by a quiver of the lip or two, his head suddenly rolled off and his whole body disintegrated to a bloody mass of sheered flesh. And then vaporized into the air in the form of caustic green smoke.

Nega-Xell’s bluff had been called and consequently, his fate had been sealed.

Lani only dedicated a second or two to ensure he was completely dissipated. A solemn expression on her face as she watched his demise.
She turned on her heels swiftly and made her way towards the portion of the platform where Nega-Lani had a merciful Xell facing his death against his will. His chin supported by the tip of Nega-Lani’s sword.

The Dark-Lani sensed this. Her irises sharpening that to one of cat’s eyes in a predatory manner as she yanked Xell’s skull backwards by the hair and steadied her long sword against his throat.
He held back the scream and winced, trying to maintain immobility despite having his head wrenched back by a force that wouldn’t have been any more painful than having the weight of an anvil tip his head back.
He felt as if his spine was about to snap.

“Why do you help them?” she spoke clearly. A will of iron one would’ve perceived had her allegiance not have resided with the Underworld.

“When you, yourself, have slayed so many… lives you have abandoned in the wake of your merciless killings. Your people… left to dust,” the Dark-Lani continued, causing Xell to wearily open his eyes to glance upwards towards his captor, before carefully drifting his eyes to look at Lani.

Wondering what she was thinking of what was being said. Whilst wondering about it himself despite his ensnared position.

“What do you hope to achieve? With your deplorable shadows eternally cast over you and your unpardonable actions leaving permanent stains on your soul? You Forlorn outcast.”

________________________

Spectator’s viewing balcony

Julien simply looked on and grinned. A thought-provoking, static smile on his face. He observed Jack’s spoken request from where he was sitting. All this time he was twirling the crystal ball at a rapid pace within the palm of one of his hands whilst he leaned his chin against the other hand with interest.

Athena instead, hung her head slightly down whilst her cold, shadowy eyes were carefully fixed on Jack as she dedicated some thought to the Protagonists’ fate if the Ripper were to win his bet. Her thoughts predominant with a shroud of apathy and indifference.

As for her end of the bargain, an evening meal would’ve been bothersome given her anti-social and recluse attitude towards talking to people. Let alone attending events such as these. Still, she could handle it if it came to that.

“Yes the terms suit me goooood,” Julien straightened up at last as he clasped the crystal ball with both hands now “after all, what comes of life after death when I’ve tortured the same, mundane souls over and over again? They’re all expendable delights of entertainment at the end of the day. Do what you want with them once I’m done.”

With that, Julien threw the crystal ball which sailed upwards in a perfect straight line, before effortlessly falling into the palm of his hand again.

The crystal ball flashed. A skull and cross bones appearing. With the deceased combatant in question, being the Negative-Xell Rhinestone. A fast forward scene of Lani slicing through him beyond any normal creature’s sight and perception. However, Julien was able to lucidly absorb every swift blow carefully and curiously. The lacerations of blood flow on the opponent’s form. As well as his fall and vapour transmission.

“Oh well,” Julien muttered with casual dismissal as he saw another one of his forged copies dissipate “it’s not like counterfeit Rhinestone was beaten by the master copy…”

Athena twitched her ears as she heard the Overlord mutter to himself. Then she looked at the viewing screens and immediately caught on to what he was talking about.

“Anyway. Well, if my freak show slobber-jaws wins our wager…” Julien considered getting back to the conversation which first manifested itself from Jack’s arrival “then what I would like is for yourself to make an adjustment or two to the Scry network. Jack.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, whilst a flash of white light flitted across his monocle with a brief glare. Adjusting his top hat, he finally smiled somewhat more civilly.

“Some tweaking in the network? Why certainly my lord. May I ask what compartments I am to upgrade, repair or refine- as it were?” he asked with delighted eyes.

“Well,” Julien said with a devious and wry smile “for the triallers that were granted a wish on successful attempt of answering their riddle correctly. I’d like there to be a follow up of a subsequent curse. An hour or two once they have cast their wish. Is that possible?”

Athena straightened and blinked at this prospect. She threw another damp towel that had been passed to her in Zach’s face. Her Gothic attire mostly clean now but leaving her wishing she had got changed. However, some bets were at stake and she couldn’t exactly turn her
back on it right now.

“Well what a dampener,” she tutted “catch to everything. Just like the time Judas’ sword changed into a pan. Hmmm… and now I’ll hesitate a query on what you want from me?” she narrowed her eyes warily.

“Oh nothing, I’ll let you off for once,” Julien chuckled. He placed the crystal ball within Athena's hands and patted her head “just be your ever-charming, gracefully dour and depressed self. Do as your told and refute any temptation to betray me and you’ll be fine.”

Athena rolled her eyes at this notion and turned away. The crystal ball still in her hands as her expression contorted.
But not long before smiling faintly as her eyes flitted slowly between Jack, and Julien as she turned around to face him again.

“My turn. If Judas wins…” she forced her pale smile more “Jack, I want you to severe and decapitate Hikari’s living arm.”

Athena promptly turned to face Julien. Her hair swishing with her head movement.

“Julien, I want you to draw Seipher out of the ring. So that I can personally kill him, and Wren can devour his soul. If I win this wager.”

Julien maintained a still smile whilst his gaze deepened curiously on the gothic clad femme.

“That sounded more like a statement than a request,” he said, his tone inviting Jack into the conversation.

“I’ve agreed to your terms and conditions. Now will you agree with mine?” she asked quite caustically. Dragons screeching in the background above the leering crowd as the battle continued to run its course with its opposing agonists and oppositions.

All the while the Underworld spectators continued to watch and talk of this game with dark musings and sadistic glee playing the tone of their conversations.

____________________

Rosebush maze

Seipher O’shea’s eyes widened in disbelief. Before narrowing again in a composed manner. He knew that macho scum, Julien, thoroughly enjoyed throwing curve balls and turning twisted games like a knife in the shell.

But to arm his replica with two glocks? It wasn’t worth arguing about where the justice in that was. However, it made his mind sneer with contempt all the same.

“Will you make a move Wing Commander?” the Nega-Seipher’s smile broadened into a smug toothy smirk “I’m sure our sister is finding your hesitation mind-numbingly dull. Comrade.”

“Your sister?!” Seipher demanded incredulously “Athena is NOT your sister!!”

“Oh but she is probably more so to me than you are to her…” The anti-Seipher drawled, swinging the hand held glocks bilaterally “do you have any idea how much she truly hates you?”

“Why would she?” Seipher asked automatically as a furrowed and worried brow appeared on his head. His form momentarily cast in shadow from one of the dragons flying high in the sky.

“Well, it’s a long story…” his counterfeit began casually.
“… and God. Here you are standing so unaware and confused of the hate in which she is consumed in. All.Because.Of.You…” the Anti-

Seipher said, twirling each gun once again, before stopping them and wavering them at Seipher as if they were toys.

“…anyway, I’m not here for the Jeremy Kyle Show. I’m here to bust your sorry ass Commander. And when I’m done with you, I’ll kill your femme cat and pathetic rabbit kid!”

“You dare…!” an angered Seipher’s eyes blazed as he held up his gun and trained it on Nega-Seipher’s forehead.

“I dare say I have the upper hand!” Dark-Seipher’s left upper lip arched smugly as he steadied his two glocks on his doppelganger “two is better than one. I thought you knew dual arms was your talent too commander? Or was it because Ghoulie specified one per customer?”

“Shut the hell up already!!!!!” Seipher had had enough and fired the first shot literally a nano-second after his battle cry. The bullet soaring towards his opponent’s forehead.

Nega-Seipher had caught on to this notion and, too, had fired two shots from both of his glocks. One to counter the bullet aimed for his forehead. The collision causing the bullets to ping in different directions which subsequently hit the thorn bushes. The second shot hit

Seipher squarely in the shoulder with a thud. An extraction of blood rupturing from his clavicle with a pained look as he stumbled backwards.

“Oh dgeeze, oh dgeeze…” the dark Seipher tutted as he shook his head “not a good start. Your hand eye coordination is going to be buggered from now on…” he taunted with a mocking melody in his voice, turning his back to glance at a pair of racing hedgehog’s who appeared to be running a triathlon of some sort. Nega-Seipher scratched his chin.

“Some women have such a strange way of competing don’t you think…?” he laughed with his back still turned to the wounded
Seipher “either they bitch and fight… or they compete out of jealousy. It’s pathetic really…”

Seipher breathed heavily. The bullet still embedded in his shoulder which caused a dull throbbing pain to radiate around his shoulder, arm and the right side of his jaw. Luckily the counterfeit had not shot his dominant left arm. Perhaps his forgery didn’t know him all too well after all…

Dabbing his wound with his scarf momentarily, he silently veiled his gun at the same time with the material. Careful not to make the hidden arm too obvious as he aimed it towards his opponent.

“Hikari was different like that. Doesn’t get catty and jealous. So she was fun to hang out with…” the nega-Seipher explained, confident that he had nailed his opponent and thus continued to have his back turned to him “unlike spending time with your sister. She was always so grumpy. And emotionally draining…”

“…THEN again… She felt overshadowed by your achievements. Even though she really looked up to you. She aspired to be like you…”
One of Seipher’s eyebrows raised. A look of confusion, concern and surprise tale telling on his face.

“She was so optimistic. But so naïve. When you left home to train for the Air Force, she wondered when you’d come back more often.
Telling herself that one day she’d be guided by the person she looked up to the most. She heard of your promotions, continuing success… that was all the talk she ever heard at the table… her own life and achievements overshadowed by your career and your life…”

“…and every time you did come home- you were cynical, grumpy, tired, and showed no interest in her. None whatsoever. Even though, she wanted to…be.just.like.you…”

Seipher reflexively shook his head. Some chords being struck. Could he acknowledge any truth in what this defiling brute was saying?! If it wasn’t true, why was he unable to retaliate or shout back defiantly?

There really was some truth to this?! Did Athena feel neglected?

Something was seriously really badly wrong. And Seipher was now trembling and shaking. More from just the bullet wound which continued to cause tepid blood to drip monotonously.

“So then she grew hateful. And cut you off. Then she cut mum and dad off. Because you did the same. But the coldest truth is… you. Didn’t.even…. nooooootice….” Nega-Seipher chanted as he turned around merrily. His scarf blowing in the wind saliently in stark contrast to the bandaging scarf which was desperately used as a clotting aid for its wounded carrier.

“So, what are you going to do now?” Nega Seipher shrugged his shoulders with a casual smile on his face. Dual glocks continued to be on hold despite its casual handling.

Seipher winced. A wave of mental anguish washing over his face as he unveiled his gun. Hanging the gun to his side sluggishly, he suddenly curved it upwards and fired in a random direction.

His aim well off.

Everything, however, now trailed in retarded motion.

The curve of the arm motion which looked technically flawed from a distance had in fact, been rendered with precision and aim which propelled the curving bullet to swerve outwards for a brief moment- before being drawn inwards again. Its path of motion tactically piercing the side of the Nega-Seipher’s temple.

The bullet caused a gush of blood to burst outwards on collision as it penetrated through bone, flesh and neurological tissue. The Nega-Seipher found his head wrenched to the side from the impact of the hit before he collapsed to the floor in a heap. A pool of blood surrounding his form with the dropped glocks on the floor.

Seipher looked on wearily, before shaking his head somewhat. The wake of the taunting, especially the truth of Athena and her deep hate for him consuming his head so caustically.

He took off his own scarf and tied it in a tight bandage form around his shoulder. The blood having stained most of the calming light blue of the material to crimson red.

Seipher hobbled over to his dead nemesis and wearily picked up the other two glocks. Putting them both in his holsters whilst he had his own. Either he’d grant himself with the luxury of having more ammunition. Or he’d be able to lend his Trial Runners a gun or two if the situation were to demand it.

He turned his attention back to the running Violet hedgehogs. By now they had come to their second lap. And it appeared both were going strong.

Had he had his strength and wasn’t wounded severely; he would run along with them and try and shoot down the artificial Serenity. However, given his state-- his stamina and endurance was at a low. And from this distance, the ability to decipher the fake one to shoot was compromised.

So who else was in the maze with me?’ he thought, casting his mind to earlier events as he turned his back on the pair of running hedgehogs and wandered through the poisonous wilderness of the thorn bush boulevard. A cloud of gloom and depression hanging over his head. The leering, booing and screeching dragons suddenly becoming little more than a muffled ambience in his ears.

‘That purple rabbit monster…’ Seipher thought, whilst a kaleidoscope of shadows brushed over his form as he wandered on through the rose bush maze ‘he seemed really odd. Not a team player. Should I really be looking for him?’
The vulpine stopped, squeezing his right shoulder towards his neck in attempt to try and shake off the dull ache that continued to throb. He steadied the glock in his left arm.

‘And then there was that white hedgehog I briefly met. Glitch…’
As if to answer his thoughts, Seipher walked upon Glitch. Who stood there to guard an unconscious Salamander in the form of Nathan.
Glitch turned around and saw the approaching Seipher and simply maintained a coarse and serious expression.

“Hey it’s me! The real Seipher O’shea…” the fox tried to reassure him, simply dropping his weapon to the ground. Almost uncaring as to whether Glitch would believe him or not.

“I presume you’re the real Trial runner Glitch right? It doesn’t seem to me like the counterfeits would care much for their fallen scumbag friends…” Seipher gestured towards Nathan with his left gloved hand, continuing to press his shoulder into his neck.
Seipher didn’t wait to answer. He simply sat down and clutched his wound with his left hand. Haemostasis finally achieved on the injury.

“Hey, I don’t suppose you’re good at extracting bullets from wounds, are you Glitch?” Seipher laughed sardonically. His fur visibly pale even though he was under the cast of the thorn shadows.

He looked up to the spectator’s balcony. At the overlords that continued to watch. As well as the other damned Lords.

He then hung his head down and sighed. Exhaustion mixed with misery.

(Fixed some posts that were missing in the 70s range)