03-04-2017, 02:36 AM
Koal growled and paced around the makeshift market, jagged and splintered wood made up various stalls that sold weapons armors, hallucinogens, and anything else a raider might ever want. Koal glanced down at his new outfit, violet Iris's appraising the black armor with an appreciative gaze. It split and segmented over his body, providing maximum flexibility and a certain degree of protection. He looked in a cracked mirror that lay, broken and discarded, on the ground. Despite his little amount of time here, he had changed. His hair was slightly longer and had a messy, outlandish look to it. His right eye was marred by a scar, his right eye White and blind, yet Koal felt he could still fight without it. He had an amazing record in The Pit, and had earned a degree of respect among these savages that he now served.
He turned as he felt the approaching presence of Nisha, his mistress. He had learned that she preferred that she be called that, and he was eager not to get in her bad side... he touched a burn scar on his stomach in pained remembrance. Her green eyes pierced him, not looking at him, looking through him. It never failed to make him feel like someone was running an ice cube along his spine. Her ruby red lips curled in a small, yet cute smile. It was hard to believe someone so unassuming and stunning was as cruel and powerful as her. She was a summoned being, no less. Not even a prime, which made him even more scared. She placed a slender and flawless hand on his shoulder and tilted his face to the side, inspecting a cut he had received in his last match. Her eyebrow whirled up in a show of rare humor and affection. She tried to hide it, but a spark of genuine concern flashed in her eyes, before they gained back their deep and seemingly endless depth.
"You're not hurt, right? I know you can't die permanently, but it still can't be pleasant." Lynch grinned, showing off white fangs, stained slightly gray from the ever-present ash in the air. His violet eyes lightened a shade to a deep pink, displaying his amusement.
"Wow, the infamous Nisha, leader of The Heart Of Ash, showing concern for a slave?" He let out a faux laugh, winking at his mistress as he did. "I truly do appreciate it. I'm fine, nothing more than a scratch. I heal quick, and my next match will be a piece of cake." He pulled up a holographic image of the match list, his name displayed next to another. Daima Kain. "Quite honestly, I don't know why they haven't thrown him to the wyverns yet. He hasn't won a match in months. If he were in my place, he would have been long dead." Nisha nodded, affirming his statement, her face serious as stone. She touched his forehead, drawing a geometrical pattern, a sign of luck and a way of wishing good hunting. Koal bowed his head and muttered his thanks, his voice layered with emotion, despite the fact that it happened all the time. She had become so much more accommodating and compassionate towards him, to go as far as checking up on him when he was injured or lost in though. He glanced over at her, then splayed his claws as the piercing, nails-on-chalkboard noise of the rusted iron gate of the arena grated open. He let out a deep breath, feeling the tension in his stomach harden into determination. The sharp and jagged edges of his mind smoothed, and he clenched his fists, the bones cracking like hot glass in snow. Black, bubbly liquid poured over his arms, covering them in a muscular structure, claws protruding from his fingertips. His eyes shifted from their vibrant violent to a radiant red. He strode through the arena, the announcer making his presence known. He looked to the crowd, and held up a hand. The raiders in the stands went wild, yelling in excitement and anticipation, slamming each others backs and throwing back drinks like there was no tomorrow.
He met Nishas gaze, nodding to her, giving her a two finger salute, before settling into a relaxed stance, not really expecting much from his soon to arrive opponent.
He grinned and spoke, his voice dark and augmented with dark magic, making it louder and raspy.
"Tick Tock, Kain. Take as much time as you'd like, but death is patient."
He turned as he felt the approaching presence of Nisha, his mistress. He had learned that she preferred that she be called that, and he was eager not to get in her bad side... he touched a burn scar on his stomach in pained remembrance. Her green eyes pierced him, not looking at him, looking through him. It never failed to make him feel like someone was running an ice cube along his spine. Her ruby red lips curled in a small, yet cute smile. It was hard to believe someone so unassuming and stunning was as cruel and powerful as her. She was a summoned being, no less. Not even a prime, which made him even more scared. She placed a slender and flawless hand on his shoulder and tilted his face to the side, inspecting a cut he had received in his last match. Her eyebrow whirled up in a show of rare humor and affection. She tried to hide it, but a spark of genuine concern flashed in her eyes, before they gained back their deep and seemingly endless depth.
"You're not hurt, right? I know you can't die permanently, but it still can't be pleasant." Lynch grinned, showing off white fangs, stained slightly gray from the ever-present ash in the air. His violet eyes lightened a shade to a deep pink, displaying his amusement.
"Wow, the infamous Nisha, leader of The Heart Of Ash, showing concern for a slave?" He let out a faux laugh, winking at his mistress as he did. "I truly do appreciate it. I'm fine, nothing more than a scratch. I heal quick, and my next match will be a piece of cake." He pulled up a holographic image of the match list, his name displayed next to another. Daima Kain. "Quite honestly, I don't know why they haven't thrown him to the wyverns yet. He hasn't won a match in months. If he were in my place, he would have been long dead." Nisha nodded, affirming his statement, her face serious as stone. She touched his forehead, drawing a geometrical pattern, a sign of luck and a way of wishing good hunting. Koal bowed his head and muttered his thanks, his voice layered with emotion, despite the fact that it happened all the time. She had become so much more accommodating and compassionate towards him, to go as far as checking up on him when he was injured or lost in though. He glanced over at her, then splayed his claws as the piercing, nails-on-chalkboard noise of the rusted iron gate of the arena grated open. He let out a deep breath, feeling the tension in his stomach harden into determination. The sharp and jagged edges of his mind smoothed, and he clenched his fists, the bones cracking like hot glass in snow. Black, bubbly liquid poured over his arms, covering them in a muscular structure, claws protruding from his fingertips. His eyes shifted from their vibrant violent to a radiant red. He strode through the arena, the announcer making his presence known. He looked to the crowd, and held up a hand. The raiders in the stands went wild, yelling in excitement and anticipation, slamming each others backs and throwing back drinks like there was no tomorrow.
He met Nishas gaze, nodding to her, giving her a two finger salute, before settling into a relaxed stance, not really expecting much from his soon to arrive opponent.
He grinned and spoke, his voice dark and augmented with dark magic, making it louder and raspy.
"Tick Tock, Kain. Take as much time as you'd like, but death is patient."
"...If the soul is left in darkness sins will be committed. The guilty one is not he who commits the sin, but he who causes the darkness.”
-Victor Hugo Les Miserables
-Victor Hugo Les Miserables