Dante's Abyss Spectators

[Albert Wesker]

Somehow or other...she had won. Well...they had won, really. Cerise and her partner. Even more unbelievably, the little snake was the last one standing.

As the fight ended, she just sank down to her knees, breathing heavily as the swirling shroud of darkness which had helped give her fighting extra punch slowly died down. One hand clutched at her chest, where a sharp pain had grown into an even more persistent throbbing ache. Like someone had stuck a knife made of hot coals under her skin. She only had a few short seconds to dwell on that unpleasantness, before there came a swirl of light. Her one good eye was left nearly blinded, squeezing mostly shut as the reptilian pupil contracted to a razor-thin line.

When she hesitantly opened her eye again, she was out of the arena. Back in the main facility. "It's over, then..." she whispered to herself. "The first round, at least." A heavy sigh escaped her, making her entire frame shake as the deep breath sent a fresh reminder of her condition, signed affectionately 'shattered ribs'. They'd won, without a doubt, but only just so. A narrow margin, and it had left them in this sorry state. Lifting her head, the faunus slowly gazed around until her sight settled on the form of her partner. It was hard to tell, given how ragged and disheveled he had already looked before the fight, but he really did look like warmed over hell after that. "If you're still awake...say something," she said softly.

The crash mage was looked to be in even worse shape than she was. In an entirely different league as far as power went, but he'd also been on the receiving end of an entirely different league of beating and violence thrown in his direction. He managed a cough, and a groggy groan as he shifted to get a metal arm under himself and try to get up. "S...something..." he managed, shaking his head as he raised it from the ground. She was far from a doctor, but enough experience at seeing people getting up after a thorough beating told her enough. His eyes weren't focused properly, as he blinked, head craning this way and that. "Did we...?"

"Y-Yes." Cerise had managed to regain her feet by now, though one hand remained clutching at her chest. "We won." She forced a smile, and nodded briefly.

The relief on the haggard looking man's face was immense and immediate, as he let out a heavy sigh. "Good...good." He shifted his posture, boots scraping on the ground as he heaved himself up onto unsteady legs. "For a minute there, I was worried we wouldn't make it."

"It was close," the young faunus admitted. "If you hadn't rushed in at the last minute there, it would have gone the opposite way for sure."

The crash mage just laughed at that, flesh and blood arm rubbing at the back of his head. "I'm sure you could have handled it!" His merriment was short lived, however. His injuries reminded him that they existed with a sharp knock, and he let out a pained wheeze as his posture sagged.

"Enough congratulating ourselves for now, though." Cerise put on a grim expression, collecting herself for what was likely to be her greatest challenge until the next match: walking. "We should go and get patched up, before the next match."

The ace mage just lightly tugged at the tattered remnants of his cloak and nodded in silent agreement.

In unison, the mismatched pair shuffled off...and barely got half a dozen paces before the inevitable happened. At an event like this, there was coverage. With coverage, came the most terrifying of all obstacles, even more fearsome and arduous than the current foe of simple movement: the media.

Their distraction trying to get words and impromptu interviews from the various primes as they returned from their fights (or at least the ones who were awake enough to offer sensible words, anyway) had them spread thin. But like termites, they seemed to just keep coming. Turning and spreading and finding ways to be everywhere. Including right in the way of the disgruntled and exhausted pair. With an energy that would have been exhausting even if they weren't already so beaten down, several of them closed in, questions firing off one after another. A veritable broadside of queries, camera flashes sounding and flashing instead of the deafening and blinding boom of gunpowder.

To their credit, with her unfortunately keen senses, they might as well have been cannonfire.

There was the expected mass of queries. "How did you do it?" "What did you think of your opponents?" "Thoughts on future matches?" "Why are you competing?"

Cerise just cast her gaze down, shaking her head. "No, no, I'm sorry...I don't want to talk right now..." she mumbled.

Gildarts, to his credit, just heaved a heavy sigh and pushed forward, shouldering his way through the crowd with as much care as someone of his strength could, leaving the young snake to trail along in his wake, quite grateful for the ease of egress from the unpleasant scene.

They weren't satisfied with that, however, and kept at it. "If we could just have a moment of your time—"

"I said I don't want to talk." Cerise's tone was much sharper now, and colder, as she looked slightly over her shoulder.

"We understand, of course, and we won't take but a few seconds, please—"

Cerise stopped, and turned to look back over her shoulder fully, visible eye wide and staring. A low hiss bubbled in her throat, and dim light flickered in the eye sockets of the skull ornament in her hair. "I don't." Her voice had gone hard as steel. "Want." Cold as steel, too, with a razor edge to match. "To talk." The hiss rose to prominence, with bared fangs at her final words.

The tension hung in the air for a split-second, leaving the few gathered there speechless. A short reprieve, but enough for the small snake to give a light cough and hurry to catch up with Gildarts, hiding her face again by looking down.

They escaped and slipped off without further incident, leaving behind a renewed, rabid surge of voices as everyone gathered there gave their own input on what had just happened.

"Don't let it get to you," the fairy tail mage said softly, turning to look down at her. A metal arm alighted gently on her shoulder, and he gave what was clearly meant to be a reassuring smile. "Wouldn't want to get in trouble for wrecking the place."

Cerise just smiled sheepishly. "I know...people like that just get a little under my skin." She chuckled weakly. "Besides...they're not employed by Syntech. I checked their badges. Wouldn't have been any trouble if they had kept persisting."

That drew a grim smile and a shake of the head from Gildarts. "That's...uncannily sharp, to make an observation like that in such a short time."

"I wanted to make sure all I had to worry about was property damage." The girl tilted her head slightly, smiling sweetly. "You know. Just in case."