Tri-District Tournament Day Two: Voclain vs Scarr

[lance]

The decision to hold each of the top 16 matches one at a time instead of simultaneously, while time consuming, proved to be a massive hit. Instead of splitting their attention eight ways, the spectators of three districts oohed and ahhed as one by one, more victors emerged and more combatants were eliminated. A forfeit, a decimation, even a severed leg that had to be quickly treated so that the afflicted girl wouldn't bleed out all over the stage - and there were still three rounds remaining.

The dawn of the next day started off, and with eight contestants remaining the stakes and tensions only rose. The noble families of One and the Games royalty of Four overwhelmingly won out the previous day, and Two of all places saw their hopes of a victory placed solely on a girl with no notable name to carry all the way to the end. With half the matches consisting solely of those with Victor's blood in them - a civil war in One between Fray and Le Roux (two families that had lost many to the Games but, interestingly, never at the same time) and a clash between the Fray dynasty and a relative of Four's own Annie Morrisen, the other matches seemed like they would pale in comparison.

But the first match of the day featured a scion from the Voclain family, noteworthy for sending a truly savage daughter to die in a Games a few years ago, and Two's last hope for anything but a truly embarrassing exit to the tournament in the quarterfinals. If anything, this was more exciting than seeing the next wave of heirs from weary, suffering families fight - because this match had both stakes and entertainment.

This fight consists of Ransom Voclain of District Four (Tom) vs Reldexx Scarr of District Two (Cait)

[Cait]

My head’s still spinning from yesterday’s fight, and the unexpected ending that had me retiring to my room much too early. A forfeit – something rarely heard of in Career tournaments, let alone during a final 16 round. But after I’d knocked her to the ground and demanded she answer my questions, the brunette simply congratulated me and left the arena before I had the chance to get any answers out of her.

I don’t know what compelling force was at play last night, but after the fight had been abandoned and I’d bandaged the wound on my arm, I had sought her out on my own – Cleo Valerie, a name I won’t forget now, after our agreement.

I’m still trying to convince myself I only did it out of pity. I’d found her in her room with tear stains on her face, blubbering about her father, trying to pull herself back together. I should have left then, not gotten involved. But instead, I’d offered to train with her when we returned home. Given her some half-hearted words of encouragement, some loose promise about it not being too late to make her family proud.

I hadn’t stayed long. Was determined to leave quickly, before I could come up with any other ridiculous ideas – but not before I saw the faintest of smiles on her face, felt something of a small warmth in my chest.

But today, it’s back to my cold heart, and a new competitor. No time to be weak now. If there had to be someone to carry the flame for District Two, it was better me than Cleo, surely.

Funnily enough, that’s exactly the situation I find myself in this morning, marching towards my top 8 match-up. The remaining three careers from back home had all been bested in their respective fights. I hadn’t watched them, but made sure to check the fight brackets later that day once the matches were over.

Ransom Voclain. District Four.

Fast forward, and I’m face-to-face with a burly looking boy wearing a mirthless smile, arrogance painted all over his face.

Great. Another District Four cockhead riding the coattail benefits of their recent Victor. So typical – they reap the rewards, the prestige, of the hometown hero without having lifted a finger of their own. I almost feel bad for Nixie Summers – almost.

I roll my eyes as I look around the room – four fights today, two fights tomorrow. Our numbers are being cut exponentially, and yet it feels like there’s even more people here today than there was yesterday. Granted, the audience growth is likely attributed to the big name Matches – two Frays left in the mix, a Morrisen and Le Roux their opponents. It’s not hard to see where the interest lies.

But that’s just fine with me. I’m not in this for the fame, the glory. I’m perfectly content with my anonymity. That’s why the growing number of spectators unnerves me slightly. I’m just a nobody girl, not used to this type of pressure, and yet here we are. District Two’s last hope, I scoff at how ridiculous that sounds, all the while trying to push down the nerves creeping up my spine.

“I was hoping the Harvard girl would eat you up. I was looking forward to facing her myself.” Tatiana, a familiar name that sounded like unfinished business. But there’ll be more fights back home after this tournament has come and gone – no point dwelling on the could-have-beens.

Instead, I focus my attention on the fight at hand and try to ignore the eyes of the growing audience watching, waiting, as I move forward.

xx attacks ransom with naginata (glaive)

IKNhcjsCVxglaive

stabbed in forearm -- 8.5

glaive

[Tom]

R A N S O M
V O C L A I N

Voclains don't care about others.

Taking down Harvard had been nothing more than a breeze. A chance to really see how far Two has fallen from grace. Surely, Two had to have some sort of strength. After his fight in the top sixteen and making it to top eight, he smoked some more nicotine and watched the sky grow from it's blue to a pinkish hue until night came. The taste of victory and nicotine left on his lips as he could remember Jacynth's words from when he was just a kid. You are a winner. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. All of it was the truth. He's been a winner since birth in the eyes of himself and others. No parents nagging him to do more. No siblings in his life to make him weak. Hell, he's even made it through Jacynth's death.

Nothing can stop him from his high.

When the next day came with a blinding speed of sunrise and nicotine, he was ready for what it would entail. The audience was growing ever so slightly. None of them seemed as interested in their match as some of the other big named people. Sure, a Voclain was interesting, but they were nothing in the eyes of the Le Rouxs or Frays, but he could care less about those rich stuck up brats. A laugh from his lips as he could remember how Hailsham treated his cousin and how he could remember wondering what Beck Hailsham was even doing to help his cousin. The taste of frustration builds, but he swallows it down as he steps into position. A toothy grin as he waits for the match to start.

"I was hoping the Harvard girl would eat you up. I was looking forward to facing her myself."

Ransom couldn't give two shits about Harvard. She was taken out of the competition by him. This Scarr girl would follow. Two was no match for them. This girl would be no match for him, but when she moves, he can see her move the large weapon forward. If he wanted to win, he had to make the fight exciting. He needed to have all eyes on him. Scarr was just another girl who thought she could get the better of him. "Cry me a river." The words taste like fire on his tongue as the blade cuts into his forearm. His grin stays plastered heavy on his lips. "She needs the training anyways. Find her after I send you back home."

Swirling his other hand, he swings the trident wide hoping to catch Scarr off guard.

"Don't disappoint me."

(Ransom swings his trident at XX)
ojTRo34c0gspear
(miss)

spear

[Cait]

My blade finds skin, and there’s a few gasps of approval from the growing crowd which I try to ignore, desperately hoping it doesn’t distract me from the task at hand. Stamina, endurance, I remind myself that this is not a sprint. I try to keep my cool, but this boy’s got the most annoying voice I’ve ever heard and it’s infuriating. When he speaks, his words are dripping with sarcasm and hitting every agitated nerve in my body.

“Cry me a river. She needs the training anyway. Find her after I send you back home.”

Oh, I definitely plan on that. I don’t bother to correct him on the last part of his little monologue, though. I’m not a fan of the whole pretentious act. No point wasting my breath on this loser.

“Don’t disappoint me.”

I roll my eyes, moving swiftly to the side as I see his blade coming towards me and just fading wide.

Let’s get this over with.

xx attacks ransom with naginata (glaive)

cqoQT40o93glaive

dg left calf -- 8

glaive

[Tom]

R A N S O M
V O C L A I N

Blood tastes better when he's winning.

The trident in his hands go wide, but it had been a risk in the first place. Swinging outwards for the audience. He could care less about who won or who lost. Sure, Four shouldn't lose to Two, but he didn't give a shit what anyone else thought. Blood drips from his arm as he can see her move in another direction. The large blade cutting into his leg, blood spilling out with a deep red that makes him grit his teeth. The toothy grin turning into something more gritty than before, but he smiles through it all. His eyes follow the blood before touching it carefully, smearing some of it across the skin as he lets a laugh leave his throat.

"Oh that's interesting."

His feet step forward; the eyes of the careers watching him as he can feel the blood dripping down his side. The trident dragging along the ground with a screeching sound. The words on his lips tasting of poison. The same poison Jacynth used to make. "C'mon, give them a show." Pulling the trident up, he jabs forward, using all the strength he had in his arms. Voclain don't give up. He wouldn't give up. Instead, he smiles through the pain, lets his own blood spill.

Red just like his vision.

(Ransom swings his trident at XX)
4TRAB2bm4xspear
(Shallow Cut on Right Forearm 3.5)

spear

[Cait]

If he’s in pain, he does a damn good job at hiding it.

He brings his hand to the new wound on his leg, gaping open and gushing. I can see the blood pooling underneath his fingernails as he drags his hand through the crimson liquid, making an even bigger mess and letting it coat his body like a second skin. He’s probably ten seconds away from licking it off altogether.

“What a psychopath,” I mutter under my breath. Definitely unhinged.

He steps forward suddenly, eyes wild, and I step back instinctively, pole sword outstretched. He lifts his blade effortlessly and jabs it towards me. I crouch down, bringing my blade up to try and block his own, and they bounce off of each other, silver against silver. He manages to nick my arm in the process, but the pain from the wound comes second to the irritation festering inside of me.

“It’s not much of a show if you can barely hit me, dumbass.” He knows what he’s doing – trying to get a rise out of me on purpose, and I’m the idiot falling right into the trap. I give myself an absolute maximum of two whole seconds to shut my eyes, regain my focus, steady my breathing. His words are still ringing in my ears as I open my eyes and swing at him again, still crouched low to the ground in a fighting stance.

“You wanna try that one again?”

xx attacks ransom with naginata (glaive)

9JWEw1u83jglaive

severed right foot at ankle -- 9

glaive