Infirmary

arrow Infirmary Broken arm?

Need patched up?

Extensive operation after a near-death experience in one of your fights?

Some rest under a watchful eye?

Pooling together some of the greatest healers from across the realms that have flocked here to aid tournament contestants, this is the place to be if you've been busted up.

Staff always looking for white mages and the like.

Rei was lying in a bed, his armor and weapons beside him. His fight was over, and he just needed to wait to hear the judges final say. He sighed. It was a tougher fight then he had expected, but he had come out relatively ok. Just a few bruised ribs. His chest was wrapped in a bandage, covering the bruising that had been put there by Roja. She had strong kicks, that was for sure. He stood up, wincing as he did so. His ribs ached. But he would be ok within a day or so.

He left the infirmary, heading for the hotel.

There wasnt much need for him to be in the infirmiry. He had not taken much damage at all other that the strain from using his earthseal so forcefully to end the match. His body was already recovered from it with help from his crystals healing abilities and all he had to do now was recover from that energy loss and that would only take a day. He was now here to visit his opponent, Terren. Knocking on the door before opening, he entered with a smile on his face. "Hello Terren. I pray that you are doing alright," he said as he revealed the vase of flowers he had behind his back and placing it on the table. A quick glance at her told him that she was still in a horrible state. She'd live but dam she was a sight.

He laughed a bit at her comment. True she could move but she was indeed limited. "Those few scraps had you brought here and undergo alot of patch work. Sure it wasnt a bit more?" he winked as he said this, nodding lightly at her smile and thanks for the flowers. "Your welcome he said with a smile as he sat down on a chair beside her bed. "How long did the doctors say you had to stay in here? I quite sure its not just a couple of days."

He laughed as she finished her sentence. "Yeah a real pain in the ass i'll give you that." He brushed away the strands of his hair to reveal his crystal once more. For the first time Terren would be able to actually see the color of the gem. It held a reddish hew almost like that of blood yet it, for the moment, seemed like a normal crystal. "How about I get those wounds healed a bit faster. Maybe if your good enough you can make it outta here by this afternoob." he said as his index finger pressed lightly against his crystal.

Pressing harder upon his crystal, it simply popped off. He twirled it slowly between his index and middle finger, letting it run over to his ring finger before sending back over her middle finger. "Then here." As he spoke he dropped the crystal upon her forehead. It attached firmly and quickly, glowing brightly for a few seconds as it would litteraly drain her of energy within her body. However, it would speed heal her body, regenerate her hair and anything else that she needed done. Of course it would only drain what was available to it to heal. What couldnt be handled by what was given would be handled with time. "There you go." he said as the crystal popped off her forehead, expertly caught by a wave of his hand.

(out of post order, I know, but SORRY! I WANNA FIGHT!)

Terren shot up straight out of her bed into a sitting possition on the bed. A thick gleam of sweat covered her visible areas. Having removed all the casts and being healed by Ryu, Terren felt better. She got up and walked away, not noticing if Ryu had stayed or not. She left the infirmary.

Akechi checked himself into the infirmary sometime soon after his match with Deitric.

Because, you know, he seriously needed it. Damn metas. Atleast he could make use of their superior healing system.

You cannot fuckin stop me! I will keep fighting!!

*"So boy...I see you've only been in that god forsaken place a few month's and you've already pushed yourself to the complete limit. I must say, as a grand mother, I'm quiet proud. You would have died out there if it required it. All for victory. That is worthy of the blood of our family."*

Her voice. It was one so powerful and majestic that it would rile the dead to militaristic attention. It was a voice that held the weight of a thousand years. The shocking tone of her every word snatched him away from the pleasant emptiness of total unconsciousness and into a quasi-reality of pain and agony. Tres did not open his eyes, he did not need to. The shift into this "consciousness" was but a sudden flash into clarity of a world that was unclear.

The Dream Scape. The plane of dreams. Upon Tres seeing the totally subjective swirl of dream matter and the figure that stood amongst the shifting storm, he knew instantly where he was. He had been there before. He had seen this person before and knew her well. She was one of the people who had raised him as a warrior.

The Divine Masta Killa - Xai Lu Ecstuffuan

She was the perfect mix of beauty and power. She was tall, seven foot four , a giant amongst humans. Her skin was tanned and her complexion was perfectly clear as if her body did not contain a single impurity. Her asian desert yellow hued gaze was sharp, a unblinking stare that pierced the cosmos. Her beautiful visage did not hold a single wrinkle and did not even hint at her old age. Her hair was not grey as it should have been but they seemed to be full healthy strands of silver bound together to form long dread locks that hung from her hair.

She wore a garb woven of astral matter that had a subtle light green glow and a amber hued jian was strapped on her waist, thin slightly transparent gauntlets that were seemingly made of gold covered her hands and greaves of a similar design covered her shins. Her feet were bare. Her aura was intense and imposing, and immediately as Tres became aware of her presence the environment suddenly and yet smoothly shifted to form the image of her home, a Chinese styled temple high on a chilly mountaintop, somewhere in Asgard.

"Grand Master Ecstuffuan"

Tres would immediately kneel to show respect to his master. He didn't do this for Sieg or Athena, because they did not ask it of him but Xai-Lu was old school and you had to be proper. Tres only then became aware of himself and as he did he was in that instance clothed as he had been before his last battle.

*"You should be dead. Your body lost so much blood and the chill should have frozen your insides. Yet...Somehow, you are still alive. Do you know why boy?"*

"No Master", She stepped closer and would cup his chin to tell him to rise. For all purposes however, she pulled the boy up by his chin. Tres's body still felt weak even though he wasn't actually inside of his body.

***"Because you are an Ecstuffuan. Your only capable of a death worthy of a god. Also, because you got guts kid. You don't have your mothers magic or your fathers spiritual power but what you have even more than any of them...is heart. You would have made the ultimate sacrifice to fight as hard as you could. That heart of yours is what will make you stronger than all of us.

However. You aren't your father, you aren't your mother, and you damn sure ain't me. So you best get smart kid. You don't have the luxury of going all out like that and expect me to fight another day...not yet...

but tell me...

What did you learn in that battle?"***

It won't be over until...! YOU! HIT! THE! GROUND!

You cannot fuckin stop me! I will keep fighting!!

*"Hmph. So you found your way in"*

Xai Lu was for all intents and purposes a god. Her presence on the prime material plane was unwarranted even if her grandson had just narrowly escaped death. So she did not speak to Tres on the physical plane. Regardless, On the physical plane Tres's body was broken and beaten to the point where communication was impossible. She spoke to Tres in the dream plane. The dream plane was the place where ones consciousness traveled during dreams. The plane was a highly morphic plane that was manipulated by the unconscious desires, fears, will, and personalities of the individuals who dwelled within it.

However, Powerful Wizards and Sorcerers could travel to the plane as easily as opening a door and Athena qualified as such. Xai-Lu wasn't surprised to see her form suddenly shift into there presence. Tres would turn his head to see his mother and he would rise from his kneeling position, walk over to Athena and give her a big hug. Tres was a violent and head strong child but that did not mean he did not love his mother as any other boy would. Tres would release his mother from his embrace and say,

"Hey Mom"

***"Aww isn't that cute.

Its a shame really though boy. You will have to go through her too if you want to claim your dream. Though believe me, I still remember that warmth of human emotion, and I tell you now cherish it while you can."***, Xai-Lu would say in her aged womanly voice.

Xai-Lu would begin to walk closer towards the mother and child. With each step of her bare feet to the ground small cracks would develop from her feet despite the fact that she appeared to take gentle and soft steps. Xai-Lu's soul piercing gaze would shift to Athena and she would look her straight in the eyes.

"Mother is no obstacle in my path master. She could only help me in my persuits."

***"Heh, really...

Well that would probrably be true but as martial artist our goals can antagonize us. See your mother here...

She wants to fight sweet ol' granny..."***

Xai-Lu would stop when she came face to face with Athena. Xai-Lu's scent was a womanly one but Athena would be familiar with the smell of war. The subtle air of steel and blood surrounded Xai-Lu. The fact that Athena wasn't cowering in Xai-Lu's sheer presence served as a testament to her own power. Athena was a powerful sorcerer and martial artist who's power was quickly surpassing that of Siegs and Xai-Lu knew this. Yet, Xai-Lu wasn't threatened.

***"Because she wants to be just like her when she grows up.

Ain't that right girl."***

When you got up close to Xai-Lu and you gazed deep into her eyes, it was like looking into a diamond. Inside of her shimmering optics were hundreds of faces in a shifting crystalline formation. On each face was a memory of a different battle. It seems that Xai-Lu had been spending a lot of time on the planes Asgard and the abyss. As a demi-diety, Xai-Lu was making a play in the divine world to claim the portfolio of war.

It won't be over until...! YOU! HIT! THE! GROUND!

"Tres, stay back."

Athena made sure to give Tres this warning, because she was not going to have her son get caught in the crossfire of a possible breakout of a fight. Even though they were currently inbetween plains, Athena knew that whatever could happen would happen in both the dream plane and the physical plane. Athena was hating the fact that she was feeling like this. Whenever she felt something such as fear, she did her best to destroy the feeling for the sake of redemption. For Xai to be standing here like this with this hold over her was like an insult to who she was. Athena was the champion of the fighting world. She was the strongest woman, and she was not going to have someone like Xai prove otherwise.

Her teeth gritted, her fist tightened, and the energies within her body went wild, both magical and chi related. The aura burst itself from around her, causing her hair and dress to go into movement as if a wind had just passed through the room. Her eyes took on a more deadly look as they stared at Xai, a glow coming from within them as power flooded her body. Moving her right foot forward, she brings her hands forward, having them hang loose at the wrist, but the joints of her hands in a relaxed fixed position, appearing in a stance similar to one a Chinese martial artist would assume. Her right hand was at chest level, but the left hand more at the height of the face.

"You seem to be wrong, Mother of Sieg. I do not want to be like you. Why do I want to be like someone who is already weaker than me? If you think you have what it takes to fight me, then let's go."

She did not know whether she was showing extreme confidence or was covering over the fact that she maybe could not win against Xai, not as her current self. But she was going to at least try, letting her aura continue to surround her body as she enters into the Perfect Concentration. It was an art Athena had perfected during her time away from Gaia. It allowed her to focus all aspects of her being into a sync that allowed her to use her abilities at their most efficient. Punches became as powerful as grenades, her spells capable of causing a skyscraper to fall after several successive blows, her body capable of withstanding bullets from a gun. To instantly enter into such a meditative state was proof that she was at master status in using both her mind and body to their best.

But being legendary was another entirely different league that she had not reached yet. She just kept denying herself the fact that even now, after eighteen years, she was still not strong enough to reach the top of the ladder. And yet, the woman before her...

"Unless you are scared."

Confidence could only go so far. Athena did not even realize what had just happened until it was too late. Maybe what Sieg said was true. Maybe his mother really had become a god. And if so, then she was nothing more than a mortal faking to reach the stars in power. Pain was the second thing a person would feel from an attack, as the first would be sheer shock. The kick's power caused this effect, completely negating the effect of pain coming into existence in her right leg. Though her spirit would keep her "dream leg" from being lobbed off, the force from it alone was enough to completely disable it. And as if she was affected in the physical world, she falls onto her right knee, doing the same in reality.

Athena was speechless, her stance broken and her hands open wide, stopping her from falling on her face as she now sat there on her hands and left knee, her right leg numb and useless. Her teeth were gritting tightly to try to subdue the aftershock of the pain that was about to come, her entire body going into tension as her brain registers what just happened.

And then she falls onto her left shoulder, both hands coming to her leg as she holds it, her body shaking as she forces herself to silence the cry that tries to come from her mouth. Tears start to well up in her eyes, only using her will to keep them from falling down her cheeks. The pain she was now feeling was worst than anything she had felt in her entire life. Her physical leg was fine, but her mind was in so much shock that for the moment, it was as if she was in an illusion of having a broken leg.

Xai was the real deal.

"No..."

+ I do not walk with God +

"Mom!"

The voice like rolling thunder in the heavens served as a testament for the arrival of Sieg Ecstuffuans mind unto the dream plane. The sheer power and majesty of his voice would seem to pierce the omnipotent seeming sphere of presence that Xai-Lu had in Tres's dream.

The dream matter would shift and roll unto itself to form Siegs image. Sieg was a master of lucid dreaming, it was how he was able to perfect his technique as Xai-Lu had done in the last seventeen years. The first thing that would come into view was the desert yellow eyes and his perfect ebony body would form around it.

Sieg would be standing to Athena's left and he had a rather irate look on his hansom face. Sieg was not clothed but because no one in here would care to look at his censored parts they would simply not be seen and covered in a transparent fade. Siegs right hand was on Athena's shoulder and something about that contact, even though it was not real, something about it would reassure Athena and that would mean a lot in a world that was controlled by feeling alone.

"What do you think you are doing?"

*"She wanted a fight? and don't speak to me in that tone of voice boy!"*

"Sorry mot-", Sieg said instinctively with a apologetic look on his face. Sieg then realized what he had said, shook his head, and restored the angry look on his face.

"No, you knew what was going to happen. Mom, You don't do that to my wife."

*"heh, Ok I'm sorry"*, She obviously wasn't by her sarcastic tone of voice.

"Rrr."

*"You want some too boy?"*

Sieg didn't step forward and that meant that he certainly did not but he still didn't want his mom to push Athena around.

"Just because you think your some kind of god now doesn't mean you can just do whatever you want. You should be helping not hurting people."

*"You must have got that whole nice guy thing from your dad, its really cute."*, she said with a big grin. She then turned around to face her son while putting her hands on her curvy hips.

*"Alright I just taught the girl a lesson, I barely even touched her. You should be more worried about your son. He is the one I came here to visit. You should be proud Sieg, you've made a son worthy of the Ecstuffuan name."*

Tres would look up at Sieg and Sieg would smile back down on him. Sieg knew what he had done, Sieg like his mother could speak to the earth and see through its minds eye. It was a method of scrying that Sieg learned from Xai-Lu.

"Yes son. I was very proud of you when I saw what you did but you've got to be more careful with your life. You only get one. Having heart is good but you've got to have a plan so you don't risk so much."

"Yes father."

*"Well it seems that its time for me to go, Tres, I'll see you later."*, Xai said abrutly and then would turn to walk away. She would slowly vanish off in the distance.

+ For God Carries Me +

+ I do not walk with God +

Sieg would hold his bombshell in his arms. As strong and imposing as Sieg looked he had the capacity to be as gentle a feather coming down from a short fall. Siegs embrace was one of warmth and solace, and immediately she would feel better.

"You can do it. I know you can. You stood up to her and you will continue to do it again. You've already won a battle that many warriors do not."

Siegs mother, despite her infinite wisdom and experience was a bully and Sieg knew that about her. She was a lot like Athena but unlike Athena she thought her self invincible. Her sheer presence usually scared off most fighters and the fact that Athena was able to get past her intimidation showed a lot. Also Tte fact that Athena admitted weakness was a step towards gaining true Strength.

*"and you know I'll help you.

Lets get out of here and let Tres sleep peacefully."*

Tres didn't say anything and would just stare at his mother and father with his big blue eyes. Suddenly a thought came over Tres. He thought about the fact that a simple swordsman had just gave him a run of his money and how incredibly powerful his parents and grandparents were. The path to greatness that Tres had dreamed of since he was born suddenly seemed a lot longer once he saw his family together like this.

+ For God Carries Me +

Tres Ecstuffuan Wrote:

> He thought about the fact that a simple swordsman had just gave him a run of his money and how incredibly powerful his parents and grandparents were. The path to greatness that Tres had dreamed of since he was born suddenly seemed a lot longer once he saw his family together like this.

Man, Tres was lucky Reyin couldn't read minds, or he'd be getting an earful right now. Even if he was in a kinda-sorta coma.

Regardless, it was indeed a really awkward experience for the blonde. It wasn't every day that you nearly died of hypothermia and then wound up in a room next to the guy who was responsible for the near-death experience. Not like Reyin was totally innocent in the matter, but that was another story.

He stood there, a gathering crowd of orderlies and nurses urging him to return to his room as he kept trying to maneuver his head to get a good look at the fighter within. His frantic head bobbing came to a stop when he saw the woman in the doorway start hugging...the air?

"Uhh..."

Reyin cleared his throat.

"Excuse me...miss?"

Maybe intervention wasn't a good idea at this point, but somebody had to say something.

At another room inside the Infirmary, Roja was getting some bandages around her torso, along with a brace on her left leg. The bandages were for patching up the wound she took on her back from her previous fight, while the brace was there to help her in easing the pain from that attack that hit into it. It was throbbing in pain. She could still walk on it, but she was not going to risk a possible injury. She had confidence she could not injure herself as long as she wore her mask, but sometimes she felt she overestimated herself. A smart fighter was a safe fighter.

"Yes, he is okay. He just needs a little rest, so don't bother him."

Taking the knob of the door, she closes it behind her.

"But I will admit, you must be strong yourself to have pushed him that far. There isn't many people who can do that to Tres. Consider yourself a significant part of Tres's life now. He won't forget this day."

Patting Reyin on the shoulder, she walks off down the hallway. She had one more person to go see.

Akechi checked himself into the infirmary. He was pretty sure he won, but first, he needed to be treated for burns all over.

Yeah.

Fierach Wrote:

> Akechi checked himself into the infirmary. He was pretty sure he won, but first, he needed to be treated for burns all over. > > Yeah.

A man taking a swig from a moderately sized silver flask was wandering around the infirmary, mostly as it was technically in his job description, and stared at the burns. He lazily ambled over and inspected the damage, nodded, and then dumped what seemed to be glimmering lemonade on the wounds. Now aye it would most likely sting at first, being made from lemons, but shortly thereafter it would reveal the amazing healing properties imparted upon the Holy Lemonade™. With a cackle the strange priest wandered off to push his lemonade on someone else.

Deitric shoveled in a mouthful of noodles that he couldn't properly pronounce the name of while sitting in his hospital bed, the bed itself bent to accommodate his position. Despite his location, he wasn't in too bad of a condition. He'd managed to re-set his own shoulder into socket with the help of a door-way before making his way to the infirmary, and they'd only wrapped it to make sure it wouldn't shift too much on its own. Atop his head sat a tan cowboy hat; a gift from a fan. The food was a gift too. So was the loose fitting jacket he wore. He didn't know the proper name for it, either.

Moving his wrapped up fingers as best he could, he picked out a small chunk of beef from the bowl and popped it into his mouth while his other hand worked the remote, flipping through channels to see the various fights from the past round. His eyes were on the screen, but his attention was really on the food in his lap. He'd nearly finished it off, and wanted more already. He'd have to drag himself out of bed to find an eatery.

"I need to learn the name of this stuff.."

Bloody hell. He was in the infirmary again but this time it wasnt just for visitation. He walked around, rather hobbled around, the hospital building as he searched for his last opponent, the pulsing in his side a constant reminder that it would take at least another day before he was fully healed even with the help of his crystal. Within the last few moment of the fight the swordsman had managed to get a few good hits in. The hustle and bustle of the building had slowed since most of the fighters had been elimiated and those who remained were the elites if some wanted to put it that way. Ryu surely did being that he had pushed this far in a tournament against people with abilities, at least some of them, he had never seen before.

Turning a corner, his breath heavy on his chest, he managed to find a rather busy room, an intensive care area of the infirmary. There, in the back, was his last opponent, Snow and it seemed as if he was being ignored. He laughed slightly to himself as he hobbled over towards him. It was interesting how, even in a hospital, people were neglected. "Yo." he said with as much voice as he could muster with an injured side. "I see your not up and around yet. I would have thought you would have found a way to use your abilities to heal yourself in at least some form or fashion."

"Eh? This?" he questioned as he pointed to his injured side with his opposing hand. "Its nothing but a bit of a scratch. It will heal soon enough but for someone who can barely move you sure do have a mouth on you. Here I was, coming to check up on you and you want to talk about my armor spill that was only given chance by the steam you tried to boil me with. Tisk. Tisk. How soon do we forget. " He said with a laugh as he sat down upon a chair next to the swordsman bed, relaxing his own aching body. "Chances are that you wont be completely healed before your next match if you are judged the winner. That wouldnt be fair now would it?" he questioned aloud. It was moreso to make the swordsman mad than anything else. He was getting a good laugh out of the swordsmans emotions.

"I never said anything about a swordsman being simply left handed or right handed. I just said you would be at a slight disadvantage." He said as he returned his laugh with one of his own. "You must understand that, despite your sure outlook on it, that you would be at a disadvantage. Even more so now since these.... nurses.... wont take the time to at least set your arm. As for those two weapons of yours they are quite interesting. Im inclined to go and find me some like those to use for my own purposes." He removed the crystal that rested upon his forehead as he spoke, twirling it between the index and middle fingers of his right hand. With a snap, he sent it into the air, letting it spin for a while before catching it in his hand. "Even now, a fighter of your calibur I would hope, you should have some energy left within that broken body of yours am I right?" he questioned as he gave a rather smug look at the swordsman. "You still do have the ability to talk so I can assume that much."

Which wasn't really true because the doctors were currently treatining Akechi, (he hadn't healed completely from his other fight and now he had a new set of injuries), and he was swearin' up a storm.

"-cking white metas. Who the fuckin' hell taught you how to heal an arm? Damn retard can't even fix a fuckin' papercut! Go fuckin' learn from a proper doctor you ugly sack of magical sh-"

Yeah.

An hour after the match ---

Breathing heavily, the swordsman was hurled into the infirmary with rapid haste, both hands bloody and the blades covered with his own blood that escaped from his old injuries. Scorch marks covered the parts where he was burned by that musicians' heat, his cloak tattered and strewn to one side as 'doctors' - at least those that were assigned to take note of his medical attention - administered remedies such as sewing and bandages, assuming that the wounds would just close over by themselves in a few minutes.

What amateurs. It took nearly three tries for them to remove the swordsman's bracers, the frigid frost locking up the gear tightly, and quite a few hours before a passing doctor with acceptable experience realized what the assistants and nurses were doing wrong with the swordsman's injuries -- And came over to quickly set things straight in a simple move --

By ferrying the swordsman to another part of the infirmary where they can worry about him later. As a result, through spasms of pains and growing rage, by the time the swordsman was treated properly for his wounds he was lying in bed, parts of his arms ridden with frostbites and burn marks while the injuries were not disinfected, caked blood covering the areas of his back and skin that made moving just intolerable to his senses. It would be for some time until he had multiple areas of his body bandaged, stitched and covered with packaged ice to counteract the burning senses on his damaged nerves.

Wet, red hair plastered over his grimaced face, the breaths still ragged and hurt while the sounds of talking drew to a standstill around him by then, the staffs tending to other people that were in need of....'medical' attention.

"Next time..." He muttered, "I'll turn them all into popsticle sticks..."

Admist the painful recovery, the swordsman turned his head to look at --

Oh, great. Sighing, he looked up at the ceiling with a growl before responding to the bards' joke.

"Don't worry - the next time I do that again, I'll make sure to break the instrument as well in the process." It was a joke of course, but with the pain of his old injuries it sounded more like ironic sarcasm.

Well, he couldn't say anything about that, since he did get himself banged up pretty bad.

"So you're a bard, eh? How long?" He questioned, trying to change the topic before his foul mood started to surface over the grunts and bleeding bandages.

"Fate, eh...?"

He paused, a bile of disgust at hearing the word fate. The irritation quickly faded, and the swordsman kept his composure as unpleasant memories surfaced within the reccess of his mind.

To hell with the so-called fate.

"Hm." He scoffed, flexing his muscles a bit to - in a way, get his body to get used to the pain before responding back to the bard. "Actually, I had a more sinister scheme in mind right after the stab attempt. Too bad it didn't get that far, or else you might've not liked what would have happened by then."

"Never read it - didn't care much for poetry in the beginning anyways." He commented back. "And close with the idea, but it would've been illegal in a tournament such as this. Especially if I froze the supply within the body. Perhaps later, when I have recovered more, I might show you first hand what it truly does to ones body."

"But for now...rest is a good idea."

"I don't do what I do because I want recognition-"

**She was so damned angry. And at the same time-she recognized she was being positively ridiculous.

But for FUCK'S SAKE-muttering darkly to herself in Courtelli, Arian sat on the edge of a chair, a nervous healer taking care of the laceration across her forehead, doing their best to ignore the melodious words the foreign fighter was uttering.

It didn't help Arian was twirling a small knife in her dexterious fingers absently. She wasn't angry at her OPPONENT, per say-but just angry in general.

It was a common feeling. One Arian sated her blood lust with, for now.**

"I do what I do because they've been wronged, and I want to make it right."

**"Its about god damn time."

B**ishop was finally finished with his patch up job for his ankle, good as new, but he still thinks his doc would've done better. He would then high tail it to the hotel. He had to go there and check in, since he hadn't been there yet, and more importantly, he had to see if he won his match against his brother.

"Wonder if they have announced my results yet?"

And there she sat, her mind set on just a single detail. It wasn't the fact that she was injured, or the consequence of her injury would probably lead to painful arthritis later in life, but simply on the mere fact that she had lost. As the story of her pathetic defeat was narrated to her after regaining consciousness from surgery, she could not help but to increasingly become angry. The only thing containing her rage and keeping her in place was the effects of the sedatives, but as the medication's influence would eventually fade there was no guarantee the young one could control her emotions.

Being forced to sit there and reflect on the events that have transpired wasn't helping the situation at all. Her arms crossed over her chest, her face like stone as her eyes fixed on wall in front of her. Being defeated wasn't so bad really, what really stung was the utter humiliation that came with her defeat. And it'd be easy to say a lesson learned for the next time, but that simply would not fix the problem. She would have to return to that same audience, to hear laughter, to hear snickering, and she would have to face an opponent who in all likelihood would belittle her. She clenched her gown in anger.

She was going to show them otherwise. Even though a full recovery could be achieved only through a miracle, she was not going to let this hold her back. With anger flooding the banks already, her drive to turn this around would surely have a great influence on the level of recovery she would experience in this short period of time.

But through out this mental outburst her expression remained the same, distant and pissed.

"Yes...yes, hmm..." A German man walked into the room where the Rachel Arai was staying, as she was one of the patients on his list of people to see today. The next on the list was going to be a Vincentius Alaphare, a supposed dragon who could transform between human and animal form. He sure was going to enjoy analyzing him. But first, this woman required his attention. He held a clipboard in his hand, his eyes looking at the paper before him as he walked to the side of her bed.

"Hello, Ms Arai. My name is Dr. Alexander. How are you feeling today?" He took out a pen, his thumb hitting the back of it, a click signifying the extension of the pen's pointer.

Vash was close enough to the room of the rather noisy female who seemed to take pleasure in threatening the one who was supposed to make her better. His arm was now in a sling, painful yet healing nicely due to his quick thinking during the fight and one of the mages on staff. He had three days to recover for his next fight. The diagnoisis was that it would be usable for the next fight, however Vash, was smart enough to know he'd have to be careful anyway. He already had leave from the infirmary and chances were he'd head back to his room.

Solomon looked with disgust at the stitches on his left leg, a long scar around the thigh from where Jame's nodachi had cut his flesh. With a grimace he allowed the cover to drop on his lap while he sighed. It seemed like everyone else had come out of their battles no too injured and were ready to leave. "Great," he mumbled, awarre he still needed some time to heal.

It wouldn't be long before Jurie came wondering on in, her hands twitching fora chance to rub against her right side a bit. She'd managed to crack a few ribs in her last fight with her opponent and decided it would be best to get a professional to deal with the wounds rather than herself. After all, she was a blacksmith with only mild training in medicines and spiritual healing arts. There was no reason not to come to get some proper treatment for a change.

All in all it wasn't too bad though.

It wouldn't take long for the young blacksmith to catch Spyke lingering around near some close by beds. It seemed for the most part he'd changed back to normal now, that armor he adorned not long ago seeming to fade from existence. All the same she was intrigued by the man not just for his strange armor, but also for his abilities as a fighter.

She would be one of the many who could understand him fully as a martial artist should.

She'd smile warmly to the man and wave to him from afar as she came jogging in towards him, wincing a slight bit when her excitement caused some pressure on her right side. Aside from this she seemed just fine. "Mister Belmont!!!" Her voice would cheer with a strange sense of childish wonderment, almost as though she was oblivious to the usual silence asked of within a hospital room. "Its good to see that you're alright."

Cryovix Wrote:

> For a little while Spyke had been examining the hospital through spiritual and elemental channels. So many from the tournament had turned up with their injuries it almost took Spyke back to memories of past wars. Each person or entity had their own energy signal. Everything had an energy signal if one worked with the elements so Spyke would literally be examining the whole of the building when Jurie came in. He smiled when he noted she walked in of her own volition. > > When she drew near he stopped his meditation and waved. Rising to greet her he stumbled a little as the edges of his vision darkened. The familiar ache of the concussion and bruised muscles coursing into his conscious mind once again. He managed to catch himself on the rail or board that would normally be found at the end of an infirmary bed and chuckled. "Forgive me a moment Ms. Arks." > > Straightening properly he'd give a bow as best he could as moving too much tended to give rise to the impending blackout. He'd straighten and then motion to the bed next to the one he had been sitting on. "If your not in a hurry and you don't mind please have a seat." > > "I apologize madam I'm doing well provided I don't move suddenly." He was smiling warmly when he said this. "I'm glad to see your still up and about. I'd feared I might have gone to far with that strike to your chest. Though I must tell you that I personally enjoyed our bout very much. Thank you. Anything I can do to help with your bodies strain?"

Saphen laughed as he suddenly appeared, as he often did, out of no where. Standing next to Spyke he looked him over shaking his head.

"Well it seems your skills with women have not improved," he said jokingly in a whisper as he nudged his arm slightly.

"Quite interesting I must say," the bard spoke before Spyke could say anything "Your new abilities I mean, I look forward to testing them in combat. Hopefully we can engage in the tournament but if it is not to be well we can only take such matters else where."

Turning his gaze he noticed the woman who happened to be his long time friend's ex opponent. After his gaze shifted between the two a few times he realized he was interrupting a conversation.

Before Spyke could speak again Saphen interrupted "Spyke, you should have said something! How rude of me to impose upon your conversation I will take my leave. An honor to meet you, one who challenge the wolf." With that Saphen slipped out before either of them could make a comment, he had matters to attend to.

Taking note of any of the opponents he could see he had to consider who his next potential challenge could be...

And to Saphen...

Information...

Was....

Everything....

Staccato: Short and Detached "If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you"

Due to the sudden shock of the intrusion and the unexpected banter paired with some bad timing on the author's part, Jurie would freeze for a moment as she watched the two toss words for a brief moment, her smile brimming wider as she watched the old acquaintances toss a few words around. It was nice to see the man feel so welcome in this strange world and for Saphen to greet her as thus... Well...

It sort of made her feel welcome in it too.

"Oh its no problem at all Mister Belmont!" She'd stutter out with her shy, polite tone as she sat beside him in the bed, her joyful demeanor seeming to hold ever true. "Mister Saphen and Mister Emkay must be really outstanding gentlemen to be so closely nit within your community!" She'd give an enthusiastic nod, her words flowing a bit better now that she was in motion. "Though I was sad to see Mister Saphen leave in such a rush... He seemed like a nice man."

Her attention would turn to his gaze as she'd nod to him with a soft expression spreading across her face. Had he not been in a fight with her but moments before he might never guess that she'd be capable of any level of strength beyond that of her kind and gentle expressions. Her aura simply didn't feel like that of a fighter, or at least... it might not to anyone but Spyke.

After all, he's the only one who'd actually fought her in this tourney so far.

"Oh! I'm quite alright dear friend... Though it would be rude to overlook any kind gestures. It is custom, for us at the village, to accept the cultures of the outsiders within reasonable limits, and such words are fair for the moments that have just transpired. Though as for my abilities..."

She'd cast her gaze down, her expression growing soft. "I can answer questions within limitations, but certain properties of my style must remain a secret, passed down only to those ordained in the village to acquire such precious vows. Its not to say that I can't help you understand... only that the details won't be as strong as you might like in some areas."

"To be honest I'd like to understand some of what you employed in our battle as well. Perhaps it would be best to call it an exchange of sorts, my own knowledge for yours." Her smile would only broaden at this, a slight sense of excitement welling within her core as she turned her eyes to one of the crimson orbs.

Reyin was nearby, just outside the infirmary and resting in the branches of a tree. He had a notebook pressed against his right thigh as his left leg hung lazily down. In his right hand was a piece of charcoal, and he seemed to be busy sketching the cityscape just in front of him.

What he was doing at the infirmary was anybody's guess really. He didn't look to be too worse for the wear, until close inspection revealed a red-flushed medical pad and gauze wrapped around his right bicep. The wound obviously required little more than several stitches, so no magical means were necessary. Reyin wasn't exactly sure what powered the magic of Gaia, but he figured they didn't need to waste the energy on a flesh wound.

So until the time came for him to have his stitches checked again, he'd just be there, drawing.

Kuroha had stayed in only a few hours after his fight, though he found the infirmary beds relaxing, and its food quite tasty and regenative for his situation. He had stayed here for nearly the entire time that had been given, being tended to his every whim by wonderfully beautiful nurses in abnormally small clothing. Today was the day he decided that enough was enough though. He wound had been cleaned, sewn and healed for awhile now, and his memory still intact from the effects of his ring. It was sad, because he wasn't able to do exactly what he wanted, and that fight left very little interesting things. Perhaps his author had a busy weekend or someth- I mean... >.> Kuroha had a long DBZ charge, that's it.

"Thank you good ladies, you have healed me quite well." He said, kissing two of the nurses hands romantically. They were speechless, which showed the geizer still had some game left in him.

The samurai got up after thanking the two nurses that had been at his bedside, aiding the aging ronin for his entire stay. Boy did it hurt having to leave those to, though life goes on. He checked out his equipment, and walked out of the infirmary with only one final glance back. He had almost second guessed his leaving, for those two gorgeous beauties. It showed age really had caught up with the old man.

To literally add insult to injury, Esouna's infirmary bed was pretty much a baby carriage. Some random nurse was explaining to her that arching her back was necessary and this was the only option, but in reality, the doctors didn't want someone so tiny taking a whole bed better suited to other patients. Either way, the fairy was pissed.

And there wasn't anything she could do about it, because every move she made made her sensory wings burn like hydrochloric acid on a paper cut. Large stitches ran down the length of those wings, but the fact remained that she was in three separate pieces right now. The stitches were just holding her together. Worse still, about half her blood was still somewhere in that arena, so she was too pale and weak to move much anyway. When anyone of her species got a break in their skin, it took longer to clot than damage to a human. Thus, the wing rips almost bled her dry.

The nurse stopped gabbering, and partially for kicks, handed Esouna a baby bottle. More BSing, this time about the fairy needing fluids due to blood loss. If anyone was paying attention, they'd notice a classic pulsing "I'm angry" vein on Esouna's forehead. Finally, the nurse left, leaving the humiliated fairy to drink from the bottle.

Infirmary used "Shits and Giggles"! It's super effective!

"Hey! Listen!" Cocking his chin and gazing at his fairy with an expression of mild curiosity, Link would cautiously peel layers of clothing off of his body one he dropped the sheathed Master Sword on a bed along with his damaged shield. Sitting, Link would untie the knots of his leather gloves before absently setting them aside to pluck pieces of his ruined tunic from his body. The green tatters hit the floor by his feet followed suite by the long-sleeved white shirt he wore beneath, thus revealing his form for all to witness. Curling his right arm in his lap, eyes of the lightest blue would regard the blotch of yellow skin on his forearm right above his wrist. Touching it gingerly with his bare finger tips, Link would sigh and shut his eyes before leaning over and taking in a deep breath to compose himself. His face was still flushed from the intense heat of Leinhart's explosion while his hearing yet still remained impaired. That, ontop of the minor aches and pains throughout his body, made Link feel as if he could sleep for a fortnight.

Unfortunately, he would only be given a few days to rest. Generally soft spoken, Link would proceed to call one of the important looking doctors his way. If none responded, then Link would grab the attention of a nurse and proceed to show her his arm and reddened face/crisped hair.

Striker Nightmare Wrote:

> Even with Vince's supernatural senses, he didn't rightly hear Arian enter the room, flip the pages on her book, or sit down for that matter. She really didn't even sense her as he normally would have; god damn, he was fucked up. Between painkillers and the hide-carved ability kicking in whenever it deemed necessary, his mind was divided in fifty million different places, and he was having trouble keeping it in one place. Hell, the minor concentration it took to use the hide-carved ability was somewhat distracting and stopped and started multiple times in the few minutes that Arian sat around reading her book. > > Even with the bright blue flare of Vince's runic tattoo on his right arm keeping him in a deep slumber, something hit him in the face like a semi-truck. A strong scent of vanilla.. rather, what a human would consider a very small amount of Vanilla. To Vince, the amount of vanilla in the air was enough to awake him from his drug and magic induced slumber to groggily open his eyes with a mumble out of his healing jaw. His left arm reached out to the side and his long slender fingers gripped the hilt of the gigantic sword propped against the bed. > > The tip of the sword bit lightly into the tile floor and provided enough stability to allow him to sit up, albeit slowly. Even pulling himself into a sitting position seemed to take a lot of energy that he didn't really appear to have, and although he'd regain that energy before the next round, he looked pretty bad. His usually dark toned skin was rather pale, maybe from a bit of blood loss, or maybe from all of the protein and what-not that his body expended to make his restoration complete. The protein thing was more shown by the way that his muscles slightly sagged a bit and only looked normal when he flexed his arm by pulling against the sword. > > After sitting up, his head turned to the right and gave Arian a crooked smile with his still healing jaw. A moment after that, he opened his mouth as wide as he could to speak which sounded out in a rather painful crack as the bone snapped itself back into place. "Surprised you came to see me, actually.. Are you surprised to see me like this?" Vince's smile turned to a grin as he nodded his head downwards at his right arm which still held a light-blue glow in the form of the runic tattoo, but most of all held his arm in a massive sling. > > Either way, Vince was glad to see Arian.

"I don't do what I do because I want recognition-"

**Semi trucks hurt. Just saying.

Vibrantly colored blue eyes lifted from the text on her page to Vince, peering at him just over the top edge of the foreign book on...chess, actually. But no one would know that. Arian certainly wasn't telling.

Her eyes dropped to his left hand, where he was wrapping his fingers around his sword-uh oh. Vibrantly colored eyes widening a fraction, Arian was out of her chair and a good three feet behind it before he even started to sit up.

She'd been cleaved in half by the massive blade once before. She sure as fuck wasn't going to go for another one of THOSE, not without Charlie and his million dollar doctors and healers, like hell-oh. He was just using it to pull himself up.

...Arian's reflexes and speed was impressive, but she felt a little silly all the same. She stepped neatly forward, silently, the book she had closed in her left hand-as she came closer to the bed, his crooked smile confirming that he recognized who she was.

His first statement caused a delicately arch to a brow, lifting it in silent amusement-and then his question brought one of those familiar half smiles to Arian's lips, curving them on one side. "Only because I didn't do it, yeah." Her exotically accented English was slightly musical, the lilt on her vowels and the softened hard edges-pleasant to hear, though foreign.

...smart ass outlaw.

Arian, on the other hand, looked perfectly fine. Which was odd in itself, since she usually took alot of damage during her fights, dealing it out and taking hits in order to deal worse ones. Perhaps she had done that well? Or...?

She leaned on the bed rail a bit, head propped up on her hand as her elbow rested on the railing. "You look rough Sah-lai...the other guy must be dead...or crippled..."**

"I do what I do because they've been wronged, and I want to make it right."

"I don't do what I do because I want recognition-"

**A glitter of warning through her vibrantly colored eyes, Arian standing straight, hand on the railing now, rather than her leaning on it. "I'm not supposed to be 'sexy'. Unless you like pain. Or something." Actually...didn't he? ...idiot.

Arian wasn't angry, not yet. Still that smart ass sort of manner, half smile gone-but a raised brow. No anger. Not yet.

Her eyes ran over his jaw to his shoulder, along his arm. Damn. He popped She frowned. "HoH-a man named Duc shattered my jaw with a gunstock." Arian said, lifting her chin up, tracing a finger alongside the thin pale scar that ran along the edge of her jaw on the right side, underneath-out of sight if her head was down. She seemed to let the 'sexy' comment go.

For now.

"Then-" Arian lowered her head again, thoughtful. "I fought Chance of Cannon Fodder with a wired shut jaw. He beat my face in. Wires poking out of my cheeks, the whole nine yards." A nod. "So...I know how much that sucks." She was looking over his injuries again.

Wasn't often she talked about a defeat...or the past at all, actually. Battles and what not. Arian was a woman who didn't give out information often. If ever.

She frowned about the half vampire. Ugh. Vampires. "The normal ones always go for my throat..." She muttered, before she grinned a little. "And then I go for theirs. Only I actually get to it."

Arian glanced around the room, shaking her head in annoyance about his opponent being fine. "Well. Least you got a fight. I lost my temper." Vibrantly colored eyes flicked back to him, the same slight frown.

What the fuck was that guy, to walk off fine while Vince was messed up?

He flashed his teeth, opening his fucked up jaw to speak-

And Arian's easy demeanor vanished in exchange for narrowed eyes and a slight scowl. Her left hand shot forward to collide mid chest-pushing the moron right the fuck back down on his bed. "Twice usually means dead, babe." She said heatedly, not letting him up either, if he tried to regain his positioning. Such fire-such TEMPER. It had flashed out of seemingly nowhere!

Silence a second, then Arian blinked. "And I don't make people feel better. I'm usually the one fucking them up, remember? Jeez." She added, flash of temper gone-but not her mild annoyance. She wasn't 'babe' She was Arian, damn him. She frowned at having struck his chest.

"...sorry." Hey, there was that much. Poor Vince. And his stupid flirting.

...she was going to kill him for that sometime. And the kitten. ...eventually. Cough.**

"I do what I do because they've been wronged, and I want to make it right."

Well, basically.. things got screwy. Vince had been waiting for Arian to give him a kiss, and instead, she threw him back to the bed and caused his arm to smash into the railing. Then, she gave him a speech about how he shouldn't call her babe, call her sexy, etc. etc. Then, of course, she called him babe, which was all so awesome. Vince's eyes lit up and his crooked grin returned as he simply shrugged his shoulders, although he was quite sure that she had feelings for him. After-all, with all of the months that passed since the Dark Tournament, his feelings for her had certainly gotten stronger, hadn't her's?

He wasn't about to ask her now, however, he did respond simply with: "Well.. You make me feel better when you're around. Honestly, I was somewhat glad you came to see me; I needed something to cheer me up, dear." With that, Vince's crooked smile dropped from his face and he turned to look at her sincerely. It would seem that they were about to have a moment when all of a sudden the door bursts open and well, needless to say, Vince's eyes widened and his mouth dropped.

He'd been hit by his one true weakness. A woman, and a rather attractive woman at that. First of all, to clarify, Vince did not think that the woman was more attractive to Arian, and that's not only because she was an islander. True, that did make her a bit more attractive in Vince's mind, but the deciding factor was Arian's firey demeanor and how she acted in general. She always had this mindset that she was going to kick someone's ass; a lot of the time it was Vince's ass, but either way, it was sexy.

No matter about that now, because at the current moment, Vince had a rather large set of breasts in his face. Literally right there. In his face. Needless to say, it was a rather good day. He had a sexy islander, a sexy.. not-so-nursey.. nurse in his face.. well hey. What more could he ask for? Then, of course, the woman began to fluff up his pillows and shit, her breasts in his face moving when she did so, and this in turn caused him to shift uncomfortably. Vince was getting ready to talk about his emotions to Arian when this came up.

What the hell was with all of this shit? "No.. I'm perfectly fine, and I don't need anything.. What in the hell are you doing here?" He was slightly agitated, and slightly amused. He was more or so waiting for Arian to come over and beat the shit out of the obnoxious female. That is, if his suspicions were correct and her feelings for Vince had grown. For now, he'd simply wait and see with another shift out of feeling uncomfortable.

Vince.. didn't even know what to say. Basically, his mouth dropped open as the woman claimed him to be some sort of god. True, he was a god in many human eyes, simply because they didn't see many massive dragons walking around. Especially not dragons which could shape-shift and act normally and courteously. Aside from all of that, no, Vince was not a god. He was in-fact.. in this form.. as much of a human as the rest of anyone else.

Still didn't stop people from swooning over him and shit. Hell, this girl was crazy as fuck, claiming that he was her hero just because he'd fought a half-vampire. Shit, if she thought that was good.. she should have seen when he killed a dragon with just a swing of his own massive tail, or when he wrestled with a polar-bear in his half-dragon form and won. There were so many crazy things that he'd done which were so much cooler than fighting a half-vampire.. and well.. this girl was still annoying.

Back to fluffing his pillows, fixing his sheets.. moving his sword.. That seriously agitated Vince. He liked having the sword in his reach for purposes of safety and for purposes of well... He liked having the fucking sword there. God damned women, always nitpicking shit, always trying to move shit around. Couldn't they leave a man's personal belongings alone? Well.. rather.. the ones that weren't attached to that man's person. Those could be messed with at will, as far as Vince was concerned, of course, Vince made no mention of this.

Hell, he had no time to speak his distaste before a book went flying and smashed into the female's head. Of course, this pulled a laugh from Vince's mouth, and continued to watch in interest as his brow raised slightly. She'd been.. reading.. chess? Well, it didn't matter what she was reading, at this point. Not only that, his suspicion was proven. Arian had gotten agitated that the woman was all over him, and it almost made Vince tease her for it, but at the current moment, he knew better. He seen the fire in his eyes, and immediately, he prepared himself.

What for? Well, as the woman went down, and Arian kicked her again, he was up on his feet. True, his right arm was still in a sling, but it didn't matter. Quickly, he moved to Arian and wrapped his left arm around her slender frame quickly in an attempt to restrain her. Of course, he expected Arian to struggle, and so, he expected his arm to start hurting very soon.

"I don't do what I do because I want recognition-"

**A blink-and then Arian's head tilted back, a scowl aimed at Vince. He got the faint vanilla scent back, but the rose perfume was still over there, rather strong.

"You want me to break you up more?" She threatened, elbow coming up to strike him-though at a much lessoned strength, he might note-than she could have exerted. She'd hit him in the gut all the same, but she was more pushing him off than she was anything.

She started to look back down again.

He was PROTECTING some crazy little-POW!

Arian's head snapped back into Vince with a curse, the fist of the woman-with a RING-striking Arian's right cheek-the blonde apparantly not some weak female.

Arian was cursing in Courtelli as she snapped her head back down, both her small hands pulling at Vince's arm, kicking out at the woman-who stepped backwards with her long stride, safely out of the smaller woman's reach.

"Well!" The Blonde said, wide eyed-as if surprised she had gotten to do that, and shocked. "You hurt me!" She had better get out of here. The little fiery woman was scary-and she was interrupting other fighter's rests.**

"I do what I do because they've been wronged, and I want to make it right."

...Fine then. Let them beat each other up; they'd be at a disadvantage in round 2. Esouna would have rolled her eyes, but they were closed. Instead, she just fumbled for her bottle and started drinking from it again, hoping that their random combat wouldn't get anywhere close to her--the fairy was too weak to defend herself well.

HyruleKnightLink Wrote:

> "Hey! Listen!" Cocking his chin and gazing at his fairy with an expression of mild curiosity, Link would cautiously peel layers of clothing off of his body one he dropped the sheathed Master Sword on a bed along with his damaged shield. Sitting, Link would untie the knots of his leather gloves before absently setting them aside to pluck pieces of his ruined tunic from his body. The green tatters hit the floor by his feet followed suite by the long-sleeved white shirt he wore beneath, thus revealing his form for all to witness. Curling his right arm in his lap, eyes of the lightest blue would regard the blotch of yellow skin on his forearm right above his wrist. Touching it gingerly with his bare finger tips, Link would sigh and shut his eyes before leaning over and taking in a deep breath to compose himself. His face was still flushed from the intense heat of Leinhart's explosion while his hearing yet still remained impaired. That, ontop of the minor aches and pains throughout his body, made Link feel as if he could sleep for a fortnight. > > Unfortunately, he would only be given a few days to rest. Generally soft spoken, Link would proceed to call one of the important looking doctors his way. If none responded, then Link would grab the attention of a nurse and proceed to show her his arm and reddened face/crisped hair.

"Liiiiink!"

A very familiar country-like voice would shout into the room as a red headed teenager rushed in and immediately leaped onto the bed, grasping around Link's neck as she hugged tight to him with extreme pressure. Whether he would recover from the sudden surprise or not, the girl pulled away to reveal it was Malon, the bubbly girl from Lon Lon Ranch. Many questions would arise as to HOW she got here from all the way from Hyrule.

"After I followed some directions, I knew I would find you here!" She was currently in a nurse's outfit, having decided to work as a nurse in order to get closer to her best friend.

"How are you feeling? I hope they didn't mess you up too much." Malon took her finger and started to flick at random places, just to see how he react in order to guess where he was hurting.

==========================

Meanwhile, over at the quarters of Vincent...

The nurses and some of the doctors were surprised by the sudden commotion in the rooms. They looked on, not knowing how to deal with these people, considering they were fighters to begin with. Neither had an idea of what to do until...

FRRWWWWSH!!!

A blaze of fire erupted itself through the room's window, blasting it open as glass shattered to the floor. A lone figure dashed through the new opened, tumbling before standing himself up. His red spiky hair was rushing down his head in a fallen medium length behind the shoulders. His narrow-shaped eyes looked upon each individual, upside-down red triangles under each eye. A snarl present on his face, each hand kept a grip of a pair of chakram with four spikes equally spaced on the circular discs.

"Settle down," he said to them all in a nonchalant manner. "No need to cause a disturbance in a peaceful hospital."

To them, he could easily be just another fighter, so they wouldn't really know that he was official security unless they spotted the badge on the right breast of his ebony attire. But they would realize the other figure who just appeared at the entrance of the room.

Midus Sonners. He stood there with his hands in his pockets, holding a pleasant expression on his face as he stared in at the patients. His attire was luxuriously white, with the shoulders and button linings colored gold. But with such clothing, the muscles of his body bulged against the cloth. Nothing too extravagant, but not something to underestimate either.

"The second round isn't that long away and already I can see you all are ready to fight," came his rumbling voice that fit his demeanor. Rough as his body's shape, but as delicate as that blond hair that rolled down his head. He wasn't angry at them. In fact, he liked the idea of them being impatient, ready to get themselves back into the ring. "But just hold yourselves out for another couple of days. You'll soon get to battle again."

((Yes, Tykat, he resembles Axel purposefully. In fact, his name's Alex. xD ))

Picture Reference: http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b72/Vintrict/GTB/Alex.jpg

Spyke couldn't see and didn't know what was going on. The only thing he was sure of was something exploded. Somewhere in his mind a message was sent to what consciousness he had. That message went something like this.

:So something is exploding right now.: Momentary pause. biggrin AMNIT thats what I was trying to avoid.: A normal person might have had a reaction like this. :I'M GOING TO DIE NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!:

So when someone or something helped him to stand he was almost shocked. The rising and moving actions brought the darkness back. It rushed in threateningly ever present due to the concussion. It didn't totally eclipse his vision though. Somehow he'd found himself on something softer than the floor and so Spyke mumbled a thank you to the best of his ability. It might have been slightly garbled though.

At that point he'd close his eyes and use passive energy to see what was going on. There were more people in the room. The window had been blown in. He couldn't make out colors really but he could tell features. Which is why Spyke became confused. Apparently Midus Sonners had blown in his own infirmary window. Kind of odd. That and Spyke had never really met the guy so the exchange should be interesting. He could still hear thankfully.

So much commotion in a place of rest... The blacksmith couldn't concern herself with such things. She knew that the best thing to do after her match was to rest up and leave the excitement to those about who were enticed with such matters. Jurie would wave off Spyke with a twinkle in her eye as she awaited the medical staff to become less bothered so that they could attend to her broken ribs. Fortunately that's all she came away with... and such was fine so long as it didn't cheapen the experience for her next opponent.

If the medical staff did their job well enough she'd have no concerns, just so long as she could help others progress through these coming days in the tourney so that they may draw something new from the whole event.

"Well, Alex, make sure everyone gets back to their proper rooms. As much as we encourage fighting in my event, I rather you don't trash the infirmary that we so generously offer." His voice seemed to drop in volume, as if to give them a warning. "After all, you don't want to have to go through three days without proper medical attention."

Turning around, he walked off, leaving his security associate to stay behind and cause his weapons to disappear in a fashionable show of flames. Waving his hands, he said to the people in the room: "If you guys are done with your arguing, everyone clear the area please. Either return to your rooms or leave back to your hotel rooms. That is all."

=======================

Malon looked on at the fairy, seeming to smile and giggle as she looked at Navi.

"Oh, Link, I see you still have your little fairy." She became more serious in expression as she gave her attention to her green-clothed friend. "But really, is this tournament really necessary? If you continue to get hurt like that, you'll..."

She didn't want to say it, as it was a possibility she didn't want to acknowledge. She didn't understand why he always went about trying to be this big hero, having no care for his own self.

"Don't you sometimes think about yourself, Link? You don't always need to do some justice. In fact, what justice can you possibly be trying to achieve here? Whose the bad guy?"

"I don't do what I do because I want recognition-"

**He swayed, and Arian's legs tensed-powerful yet feminine toned thighs and calves working to keep him up as her back and stomach tightened, hauling him off to another bed somewhere nearby.

"Shut up." Arian said to his word of thanks, not in any better of a mood than she was five minutes ago-and that in itself might have confused any onlookers. She was helping him, but angry about it?

Paradoxical woman.

She watched the blonde man walk off, saying something or other in English-while the Axel looking guy-no, Alex, was he...? What?-stayed behind.

Vibrantly colored blue eyes watched his flaming weapons a moment, briefly distracted as she curiously pondered them-and then the caribbean blue orbs flickered over Vince, who had not done much since the chaos.

Arian strode back into the room purposefully, snatching up her book with a mild scowl at the inhabitants-Vince and Alex and anyone else-and then she strode out again, her silent steps making no sound upon the tile in her cloth boots, Arian rapidly clearing the scene.

God only knows where the Native wandered off to. She seemed to cause alot of trouble, when riled-but she hadn't done anything more to anyone, so maybe there was no cause for worry.

Her explosive temper didn't set itself off, after all-left alone, Arian did just fine.

But she wanted her fight, dammit-the next opponent she faced would be unlucky, facing all the pent up anger and violent tendencies Arian didn't get to exert in her last 'fight'.

It ought to prove interesting, at the very least.**

"I do what I do because they've been wronged, and I want to make it right."

*You Will Never Be A Man***Three days. Three days it had been since Takamura had passed out in the middle of the ring after the fight. Next thing he knew he was waking up in a hospital bed, his side burning with the broken rib and sternum that had healed much faster than it should have. This was a gift from the mage that had sent him here.

"Fighting is dangerous, especially in the tournaments." the old man had said, his wrinkled eyes widening slightly to get a good look at the warrior that stood before him.

"I sought you out old man so that I may fight. If you do not wish to help me then I will find another." the warrior replied, a fire in his eyes like no other. He would fight, and he would win.

It seemed foolish now, that that same warrior now lay in a hospital bed with a nearly shattered sternum and most certainly a cracked rib. He was alive thanks to his natural reflexes, honed by years of use. Killing, maiming, all in the name of the Meji, but the old man had taken pity on his tormented soul and granted him life far beyond his years, and the ability to heal much faster than others, though still not without it's price. Were it not for his won resolve he would have succumbed to the excruciating pain of his bones regrowing long ago, but he had learned, as all warriors do, to overcome the pain, and fight through it such that in time it became a nothingness.***Unless You Are A Gentleman*

The psionic teen would wake up in a hospital bed after his second round battle. A hospital bed? But nothing like his home. Here there were no straps, no muzzles, no big men with batons ready to take out any unruly patients. It was different.

But nice.

Pip would look around, the last thing that he could remember being him opening his mind to the crowd. The audience's anger and bloodlust must have been enough to blank out the rest of the fight for Pip. Enough to make the rest of the fight not matter.

He didn't like what had happened. He felt dirty. All of those people... Each one Evil. And he had become them. He had become the conduit through which all of their Hate had run, and he had been so uncomfortable that his mind had wiped the majority of that experience from his mind.

He didn't even know who won.

His blue eyes would begin to wander around the ward that he was in and he noticed several pretty pictures, a few other patients, the usual medical supplies, and a nurse checking up on everyone. She walked over with a little quirky smile on her face, talking about 'Oh, look who's finally up' and 'I watched your fight! It was really cool' as well as the 'Your mage says that it'll take a couple more magical treatments before you're good to go, but that you'll be better by round three.'

She talked a lot. But she was cute. And nice. She was like the nurses from his home. He liked this.

With a small smile on his face he would lean back into the hospital pillow provided and close his baby blues. He was home. he was away from those evil people. He was dry.

He was happy.

Spyke looked up at he heard Saphen's voice. He blinked a few times as he saw doctors fussing over him. Confusion played across his face and then he shrugged.

"Yeah we avoided the worst outcome still though my shoulder isn't going to be happy. Though I must admit Saphen. I didn't think I'd hit you hard enough for you to warrant medical attention. In fact I don't remember ever actually hitting you......"

Spyke stared on with slight confusion on his face. The muscle relaxers were starting to kick in and for the most part Spyke was content with the slight pain relief that provided.

Spyke blinked a few more times. He'd hit Saphen? When.........wait a second. "Hold on you were just standing behind that wall of mud? I see. Well that explains a lot. I must admit it was a good match. Though somewhat frustrating. Once again I could never catch you despite b being able to jump over the arena. It has to be one of your more amazing abilities."

Spyke was being serious although he sounded somewhat indifferent to the implications. The fight had been both entertaining and frustrating. Spyke had to go way out of the way to even land that single hit. Damn near cracked bones from muscle tension. A testament to Saphen's ability.

"I think next time I'll have to try harder. Better make sure you train between now and the next time Saphen. I promise I will be."

Pip would wake up in a haze. As if all of the world were blurry.

Who's to say that the world wasn't blurry?

Pip hoped to face whoever did this to the world in the finals. Assholes.

He realized before too long that he was back in his hospital room. Mostly because a white blur with a pretty voice told him so. She informed him that the anesthetics would wear off before long and that everything would clear up. She asked how he felt.

How did Pip feel?

He would run his hands down his body, looking for injury before realizing what she was talking about.

Man, his thought processes seemed even slower than normal.

His arms had been broken during his last fight right before he had blacked out. When he woke up last time he hadn't been able to move them.

And now he could.

"I...

Feel fine."

Oh! That was so great. Well, the results for Round two weren't yet out, and so he didn't have any rush in getting away from her yet, but he would be in tip top condition for Round three just like she had promised. His eyesight would clear enough to make out a wink as she told him to rest as long as he liked.

Ah.

It was the cute nurse from before.

The young teen would blush and lean back.

This here...

This was what he was fighting to save.

His eyes would close, shutting out the blurry world in favor of an excellent view of the backs of his eyelids.

And he would sleep. Waiting for the next round to be announced.

Spyke stretched his arm and shoulder one more time as he exited the infirmary. His muscles were back to normal, which felt ridiculously good, and for the most part the knife wound had healed. He was applying a constant stream of energy to the afflicted area in order to boost his bodies healing effect. With any luck Spyke would be in top form for next round....or for his ventures elsewhere.

Yawning he'd head off to the hotel to order some food and get some real sleep.

Elliot's last match had proven to be quite a struggle, but most of the injuries he had taken could, and were walked off. The only exception was his arm which suffered a hairline fracture. Some abracadabra from a white mage and the limb was good as new.

(Hey everyone, I'm new to this forum in general. I have three characters: Acro (fighter), Dark (fighter), and Mao (medic). I'm obviously in this specific infirmary as Mao, and I hope I can get to know you all better as I rp with you guys. Know that I am approved as a medic by Ventrict...)

Mao walked into the infirmary not knowing where he was or why. All he knew is that he woke up in a doctor's outfit, including a stethescope and name tag and coat, and in a comfy bed. His straight ivory hair fell flat on his face as his glistening saffron yellow eyes looked calm in his new surroundings.

It looks to me like an infirmary of sorts... He thought as he saw all the fighters in combat outfits, and a tournament like enviroment seemed to fill the air...

Mao walked around with his lost expression until he noticed a young lady looking at him. He returned eye contact and give a slight smile as he walked over. He noticed as he came into legitimate talking range that she had injuries, whether they were serious or not was yet to be seen. Mao's feathery ebony black wings fluttered slightly at the thought of a injured person and he walked over.

"I was going to ask you where this place is exactly but you seem injured. Need any help? I have medical experience..." He said with a slight smile and a kind expression that showed a sincere will to help

"I would help out, but I don't know where or what this place is, better yet where to get food here. All I know is that I woke up in a doctor's uniform and with a letter saying welcome..." He said with a slight laugh as he looked around and noticed a slight aroma in the air. There was some bread on a table near-by from the look of it and he walked over and grabbed some.

He returned to her and gave her the bread. "So, would you be so kind as to fill me in on where I am and what's going on?" He asked as he grabbed a chair near by...

"Sounds pretty self explanatory to me, and I guess that means I'm stuck here for now..." He said as he sighed a bit. "The least I can do is fufill the role I've been given and make the best of it. I can start by helping you out..." He said as he grabbed a couple of more loaves and handed it to her...

"By the way, I'm Maziel, but you can call me Mao for short..." He said as he returned to his chair...

Mao smiled a bit, and resumed his lounging. "I just woke up from my sleep, so I might as well enjoy my time awake. And your welcome umm... what you're name?" He asked on a curious tone...

"It's a pleasure, but I heard Acropilis the half breed beat you, and from the look of your condition your either having some tough wins or your losing kinda bad..." He said in a honest manner. "But he's gotten a lot stronger from the look of things, so that's not a bad thing..." He said again as he looked to see his sword sheathed on his back.

"I didn't notice this thing till a moment ago till now. I do fight for self defense now and again, but you could probably beat me senseless with your bare hands..." He said as he drew his falchion and took a look it up.

"Your tough one, hahahaha." He chuckled as he gave her a pat on the back. But I best go check what I got in store for me here, so I best leave for now. Thanks for all the help..." He said as he gave her a slight hug.

"I'll talk to you again once my plans are set..." He said as he walked towards the hotel...

Mao entered the hotel and asked the lady up front and apparently there was a letter for him. It was a map of the area with all things labeled, a key to his room, and a formal explanation of his roll in this place and a medical tent. He apparently was one of the few higher up doctors in the place and would help run a row of tents, including the one Esouna was in.

He returned to her after checking out his room that apparently had all his clothes there as well. He grabbed his necklace and adjusted his hair in the mirror. He came out in what was an hour and waved at Esouna as he walked in.

"Apparently I'm on of the higher doctors and that means I'm in charge of certain tents, including this one."

((Just to let you know, Acro, they're in a building, not tents. >_>))

She didn't make any assumptions about his age. "How old are you" never went through her mind when talking to a Gaian; it was too hard to tell when they were of a different species. She relaxed again and smirked. "I'm still hungry," she hinted. "Is there a kitchen on the map?" Esouna adjusted her pillow idly to make it more comfortable.

Note to self: possibly a mind reader. Esouna took the map copy and looked over it. Hmm...aha, there. "I'll be back," she promised, and the fairy flew out of the infirmary to go raid the fridge/pantry/whatever.

Frankly, she'd be there a while.

What was taking her so long?

After a almost an hour, Esouna finally made her way back to the infirmary. Thank goodness for her strong wings, because she had to have been a few pounds heavier than when she initially left. The fairy looked pregnant--a grotesque consequence of her species's metabolism. She landed a few feet from her pillow and walked the rest of the way, finally taking a seat. Her smirk had turned into a smile of contentment, showing that her mood had improved. "You said something about injuries?" she brought up.

She was already sitting on that pillow, so she didn't need to get up. Esouna pointed to a few deep bruises on her thighs, making sure not to touch them. "Here. And here," she added, turning around somehow and sweeping her hands over the various shallow puncture wounds. The most dangerous-looking one sat right where her left sensory wing met her skin, damaging the ligaments. She turned back around, then winced and put her hand over her left set of ribs. "I don't know which one, but I think it's broken." Lack of experience showed with that statement--no telltale bumps suggested a break, so it was probably just a fracture. Then again, her shirt was covering that.

Whait, whaOWOWOW. Esouna grippedthe pillow and gritted her teeth, taking pained breaths. Getting a spike jammed through her skin repeatedly didn't feel a lot like healing.

"Out on an island," she spoke quickly. She paused a moment before continuing, trying to deal with getting stitched up. "That's whe--AAAGH--where the rest of my kind is," she continued, being interrupted by a particularly painful stitch. Mao must have hit a nerve or something.

Whenever he finished that wound, a fewof the less serious ones spread across her sensory wings, and the least dangerous simply lay on the regular skin of her back.

Her tension remained, although less pronounced. It still hurt. "I took a class, but everything after that a learned myself," she half-lied. She acquired her magic from an old monk-type guy, but she didn't consider that "fighting". Fighting was the techniques used to beat up the other guy.

"And you?" she questioned.

A few hours of needle stabbing made Esouna very sore and strung-out by the end of it. She shifted and lay face-down, supported a bit by her belly, then sighed. "Okay," she agreed, then crossed her arms and rested her head on them.

Round 4, complete.

Esouna didn't need as much attention as before, because neither combatant in her fight had actually drawn blood. Still, the nurses and doctors examined her sternum, since it had a received a good whack by Jurie's gauntlets. They said something about a 'hairline fracture', but the fairy wasn't paying nuch attention--resting took priority, which meant being close-to-sleeping-but-not-really.

Signboard Wrote:

> [Infirmary Status Board] > > Hello potential patients and fighters alike! > > Broken arm?

"..Sarcastic piece of shit-"

Into the front entrance of the infirmary stepped Round V fighter [Omi Barsait, practically growling with how bared his teeth were- eyes livid with a mixture of frustration, disbelief, and impatience. As it turned out, since he could move post-his clash with Snow, there was no deemed need to remove him from the ring with assistance. In other words..

There he was just as he'd been from the match, right shoulder torn asunder and his entire arm bleeding profusely, holding his two gauntlets by the pinky-holes limply in the left hand. Weaker still from walking while bleeding, much less the fact the adrenaline long ago stopped pumping and he was now absorbed in the pain his body screamed every metaphorical profanity towards- Barsait dropped the gauntlets, red blood dripping in a waved-shape onto the pristine white floor. Clearing his throat, the long-haired fighter posed the question: "Oi', someone mind taking a look at this? Maybe sewing it up or wiggling their fingers and channeling the arcane into it, I'm really not too damned picky - but the room's starting to spin."

He figured just in case his worthy opponent Snow had won the match, it'd been wise to get treated before he was no longer a fighter- and if Omi had won..

..not having an entire limb operate was out of the question, in this competition.