Yoyoyo I normally don't hang here but my G Jeff is new at this and I could use the brush up, right?
Basically this is going to be an arena/HG setup and we haven't worked out all the details. Ask before joining, a sample will be needed, we will be working in Third Person Past Tense.
Yoyoyo I normally don't hang here but my G Jeff is new at this and I could use the brush up, right?
Ueska is a name whispered with fear by many of the underground, most unsure if it is simply a rumor started to instill fear or a real place. There are others though, rich members of elite societies or crooked government agents, that know the truth. Not just anyone can get seats to the infamous area. It requires money, power, and assassins on payroll to deal with anyone that looks too deeply at their finances.
The players, however, need no such thing. Recruiters for the games tend to find whoever they can for the games. Criminals, orphans, runaways, they aren't too picky. Anyone who falls too easily through the cracks of society works nicely in their eyes, anyone who has no connections to look or vouch for them. There are of course specialties, and these are cherished, fighters capable of much more entertainment than the common criminal or strongman.
No one who enters the ring has ever left without a price, either as a victor, or occasionally as a beloved Underdog.
In the arena there is rarely mercy. Only hope that one can fight tooth and nail for the Laurel Crown.
Welcome to the Game of Ashes.
Age: early 30s
Description: He has long black scraggly hair, pale skin, and gray eyes. He wears a pair of black slacks, with a leather belt that is lined with black fur. Tucked into his belt are two sheathed daggers. He wears no shirt.
Bio: Kian was born into wealth, he was not suffering like the rest of his people. He was raised by both parents, and was taught that the government was the highest authority. At a young age the emperor requested that he kill both of his parents to prove himself and he did so willingly, from that point on he was appointed as the emperors assassin. He enjoys parties, banquets, and is allowed to kill anyone without any consequences. He is a cannibal.
Other: He has a small silver vile on a thin chain around his neck.
Aki Alaric Hiqar-at Octavia Soaki Thana
Description: A giant, about eight feet tall, with grey skin and fiery orange hair in three stripes down his head and a big beard.
Bio: Alaric is a weapons dealer and enthusiast, able to use most known weapons and a few unknown ones. Although he can be a bit gruff, he is a loyal friend and a fearsome warrior in times of need.
Name: Octavia Lewis
Description: Stocky and well muscled, thick hair dyed bright orange in an overgrown pixie cut, dark skin and eyes, full lips continually in a frown. She has a blue tattoo of the constellation Delphinus on the inside of her right wrist.
Bio: She has from a young age had a dislike for all people. She doesn't understand them and doesn't care too. From a young teen she has been proficient in boxing, wrestling, and judo, and she relies on her ability to intimidate like some might rely on charisma. Though she is far from empathetic, she does not trouble others unless they bother her first. She is very loyal if loyalty is earned, but that is next to impossible. Earning her respect or even help is much easier. As a rule she tends to be rude, or at least gruff.
Sex: Probably Male
Description: Only five feet tall, and even less as he tends to hunch, though he looks taller because he floats. His body looks like cotton candy, such a dark blue it is just off black. He is humanoid, but his arms are longer than his legs and his face is rather baboonlike (fangs included).
Bio: He is motivated solely by entertainment and lives accordingly. His recent capture does not faze him in the slightest as he is sure he can escape when he eventually feels like it and is content to do as he is told until then. Except when sulking, he is always cheerfully mischievous and willing to make friends with anyone, though he is just as willing to kill them in cold blood with no remorse.
MATCH NINE EIGHT NINE
rang from the giant speakers both inside and outside the large holding cells filled with prisoners. To all parties, both the prisoners themselves, as well as the spectators, it signaled the start of a new battle. The gladiators surged to the surrounding screens illuminating the walls of the building, ready to catch any hints of what the new champions might be, both from the tactical standpoint of finding their strengths and weaknesses, but also out of mere boredom. A dragonborn and a werewolf woman circled each other cautiously, locked in a two warrior combat, only waiting for the chance to brawl and seize their victory.
Thus distracted, few remained packed near the walls where new carts of prisoners were coming in.
The loose bars of the cage rattled at it was slowly lifted by a crane. The prisoners inside murmured agitatedly, fearing the height, or the possibility that the chain holding them up as they moved over the top of the wall might snap, sending them all to their deaths. Octavia stared coldly ahead, unnerving some of the others who gave her as wide a space as was possible in the close confines. She tapped the bars of the side of the wall she leaned against, wondering what they were made of. Not steel, but still just as useful. With her teeth she untied a bracelet from around her wrist. It was orange, made of her own hair. She crumpled it up and stuffed it into her pocket, keeping her hand around it. With another arm she reached up to the roof of the crate, her hand catching on the poorly fixed nails keeping the boards above her head connected. A few people looked up at this She glared at them and they soon went back to minding their own business. The cage began to go down at an ungentle pace towards a landing pad of sorts made for such a thing. A boy opposite her began to cry.
With a soft clang the cage finished its descent. A guard opened one of the walls that also serviced as a door, and the prisoners exited, Octavia clutching tightly the crumpled ball in her pocket.
There was general hum of confusion and fear. People we’re huddling in corners, or sitting alone staring at the screens. On the other hand Kian was wandering around looking for allies, not only was he excited, he was having fun. Eventually he found a tall man with red hair. He reached out, and tapped on the mans shoulder and introduced himself.
Alaric looked down at the small shirtless man touching him. "Alaric," he said, "though I suppose you an call me Al. That informality was generally reserved for friends, but in this place I don't suppose that distinction holds much meaning." The man had a friendly, but odd, expression.
"May I ask what your business is, talking to me?"
“You remind me of a good friend.” A small grin began to form
“Al was it.” yes, we’ll get along just fine. “friends?” He said, holding out his hand.
(“Al was it?” Yes, we’ll get along just fine. “Friends?” he said, holding out his hand.)
Al gave him a sidelong look. "You sure are a strange one," he said, "but whatever friendship means in this place, I suppose you can have mine." He took Kian's hand in his and shook.
Octavia left her group, relieved to at least have some space after the crowded box. Her eyes swept the place as she tried to assess the threats around her. After a minute of this she gave up. There was no way there was anything close to real safety. She would have to trust that the fear of retribution would keep the prisoners from attacking each other. Even though she looked a lot tougher than some, there were definitely more powerful warriors than her just in her line of sight. Not to mention any specialties. most kept to themselves, or at least didn't flash any magic around, but she did see some kind of floating baboon man in one of the enchanted cages nearest her. She made a mental note to not catch his eye. Now to check out resources…
Kian still shaken from Al’s much stronger grip, begins to walk away so he can size up the competition. Several large creatures in cages catch his eye. He can tell that the others are intimidated but he isn’t phased, he knows his capabilities.
(*Kian, still shaken from Al’s much stronger grip, began to walk away so he could size up the competition. Several large creatures in cages caught his eye. He could tell that the others were intimidated but he wasn’t phased. He knew his capabilities.)
(You switched tenses)
(How does he know they are intimidated? Show don't tell.)
One creature in particular met his eye. It was a humanoid of sorts sitting a few feet above the floor in a cage made of what looked like black iron covered in shimmering runes. The red eyes met Kian's. You sure seem sure of yourself, an amused voice hissed in his mind.
Alaric followed Kian with his eyes. Something was off with him and he wasn't sure what. However an ally was an ally.
She gazed around pensively. Resources were scarce. There were a few medic tents, but Octavia could see by the expressions on the faces of the guards that it was doubtful that supplies would be given out for basic first aid. Oddly there was no food line. Were they being starved? Octavia had no doubt the system was cruel enough to starve prisoners, but after the trouble of collection and shipment it made no sense to let fresh blood fall away behind a wall when cheap sport could be gotten for it between specialty matches. She noticed some people marching around with weapons. Doubtless these swords were not enchanted, but it would lead to more violence in the holding area. Perhaps that was the point. More pent up fear might lead to more interesting battles on the outside.
There was plenty of metal around that she could work with, perhaps making her previous move pointless, but better safe than sorry.
At this point it would be wise to fashion a weapon, or find out an allegiance to join. Octavia frowned. She was not good at playing nicely.