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| Bright Journey | The Congregation of Victory Tournament is in its final phases, with each bracket whittled down to a chosen few. The unworthy have all been washed away in the ignominy of defeat, and only the truly skilled masters remain. Of course, this means that virtually every night of tournament competition is at a fever pitch of excitement. The crowd, far from tiring of the spectacle, have come back for more and seemingly brought their friends to boot. The Arena is absolutely jam-packed and there's barely room to breathe. The Nine Sheaves Consortium, the group running the tournament, is clearly making silver hand-over-fist, with not just entry fees, but food, booze, drugs, even private booths. It's a good thing Bright Journey knows some people!
Or at least that's what she said when she led Wandering Tree down to the very front row, right on the railing near the middle of the Arena on the west side. A hell of a spot if you can swing it, and as the pair arrived several Nine Sheaves vendors bowed to Bright, leaving behind a few choice snacks and fruit juices. After the vendors leave, Bright grins and takes up a large mug. She has to pitch her voice a little to carry over the din enough for Tree to hear. "So! What do you think? I could have gotten us a private booth, but you have -no idea- how much I'm done with those booths for now. I'll tell you later--it's a story you absolutely need to hear. But not right now. Besides, this is where the action's at!" |
| Wandering Tree | Wandering Tree settles into the bench, stretching his legs out to the railing so he can slouch a bit and not block too much of the view past his bulk. He grins at Bright, his teeth showing brightly. "What do I think? The show hasn't even started yet and I'm already enjoying myself greatly! And I'm looking forward to the rest of that story. But for tonight, I can feel the crowd's excitement, and I share it. Do you know any of tonight's fighters?" |
| Bright Journey | Bright's voice is sing-song cheery as she replies, "Not a bit! You probably saw the board out near the West Entrance where we came in, showing sketches of who's facing whom, but I didn't see Fudou or Misa or Raul there. Not to worry. I think they're trying to stretch it out a bit, only have a few fights a night now, and I'm sure we're past the point where there's just one or maybe two rings..." Her voice trails off as she peers over the side a moment. "Mmm. Yes. One ring. I think I understand now. I didn't catch where the brackets were, but there were, what, ten or twelve people on the board? I think it's just teams tonight. Which is why I didn't recognize anyone." She beams happily and has a swig of fruit juice. "Oh, hey, before I forget. I didn't buy any booze yet because I'm not really sure what you like. I'm sure the Nine Sheaves has a huge selection, and it's my treat--get what you want. I will too, eventually, when it cools down a bit."
She leans up close to Tree's ear, so she doesn't have to speak so loud. "Hey...we'll talk about it more later? But what happened with the booth isn't good and it isn't done yet. Remind me later to make sure to fill you in. No need for you to do anything if you don't want to, but you do need to be warned." |
| Wandering Tree | Wandering Tree looks down at her, his eyes flickering through a few emotions before settling on letting it wait until the right time to deal with. He peers around at the arena floor, piecing together the teams from her description and his own experiences in this business. Then he shrugs and shifts back into a wide smile, sitting up a little higher to look down at the vendors. "Well, I think I'd feel wrong getting something without sharing, especially on your dinar. Are you sure you don't want anything too? I'm more than happy to fetch it for you. It is quite literally the least I can do." |
| Bright Journey | Bright pauses for a moment and flips her hair back behind her, taking the moment to consider Tree for a moment. "Mmm, you know what? You're probably right. It -is- a bit unfair of me to try to do everything. Part of it's just I like to show off and be helpful and...well, have everyone like me. There's a lot more to that than just generosity, though, isn't there?" She laughs a bit, hand covering her mouth. "Or maybe I should stop waxing philosophical and just have a little fun. So why don't you go and get me one of those wine bottles--any Northern white will do, or the far Northern ice wine if they actually manage to have any left this time--and you get whatever you like. I can hold my liquor better than you think, don't worry on my account."
It's at about this time that the first teams are making their way onto the Arena grounds, rather than milling about in the wings. Both have four members, which almost certainly means either Bright didn't see all the sketches or not all the warriors have them. Which makes it somewhat difficult to tell how many bouts there will be tonight. But who's counting? The matches look like they're going to be exciting either way. One team is wearing what can only be described as cast-off leathers, and while all their clothing is different they each have a red cinch of leather around their left biceps. Tough and a bit crude, though not nearly as crude as some of the Great Forks gangs. The other consists of four more formal martial arts students, every one polite, graceful and clearly well-trained...but with all different outfits and patches. An ad hoc team, perhaps? |
| Wandering Tree | Wandering Tree's eyes follow Bright's hair as it flips, as if finding it hard to look away from it. He recovers after a moment, and nods to her. "Alright then, I'll see what I can find. Do please save my seat though, I'm sure I'd be tempted to sit down on anyone I found in my spot." Then he rises and lumbers off with a grin.
Tree heads over to the vendor booth, taking care to not step on anyone as he waits in line. He's clearly making an effort to not scare the much smaller people around him as he shuffles closer to the goal. Eventually though, he returns with a pair of bottles and a large clay jug entwined between his massive fingers, as well as a pair of clay fired goblets in his other hand. He resettles into his seat and hands over a goblet, holding out the other containers for her inspection. "I couldn't decide between the white or ice wine, so I got both. And also some mead. Don't worry, if it turns out to be too much, I can help you finish." |
| Bright Journey | Bright's looking right at Tree as he pauses for a moment. She notices, of course--how could she not?--but she has the grace and tact to not say anything about it. Instead, she smiles just a bit, watching as Tree turns to leave. "Don't worry, I'll make sure anyone who might try knows they'll have to contend with both of us." She grins impishly, until Tree is out of sight.
As Tree comes back, sure enough, his seat is still empty. Bright has a dryly bemused expression on her face as Tree returns, and she quickly moves the snack tray off his seat as he arrives. "A gentleman -did- try to sit next to me," Bright says in the driest conceivable tone of voice. -Very- next to me. I explained I was here with a man already. He didn't take the hint." She chuckles quietly, almost inaudible over the din of the crowd. "I told him you would be back soon, and displeased to see him. He actually tried to put an arm around me. So I pointed you out in the concession line. You know, the one where you're two feet taller than anyone else even vaguely close by? He finally got the idea. At the speed he got out of here, I think he's in the shadowland by now." She laughs out loud. "See? You intimidate people without even being around. I have to work at it!" |
| Wandering Tree | Wandering Tree chuckles down at her, then lets it develop into a roaring laugh while still sounding good natured. He can't help but look around the area for any darkly staring eyes, but quickly refocuses on Bright. "Well, if he was an actual gentlemen, he's have been better at taking the hint, wouldn't he? Not that I try to be overly scary, but... Wait now, I think I rather like the way you put that, that you were here with a man already. Yes, that's rather a warming thought, as I consider it. Would you mind terribly if I put an arm around you? Even if only to send a message to other less gentlemanly types?"
He smiles down to her as he pours out a pair of drinks from the bottles between his fingers. |
| Bright Journey | Bright pauses for a long, thoughtful moment as she sits, legs crossed, clay goblet in hand as she gratefully holds it out. She takes a sip and smiles, obviously taking the chance to delay her response to Tree's question.
"Ah! The ice wine. This is what I thought I remembered, and it's quite good! Thank you." A moment and another brief pause later, and she turns to look Tree in the eyes. "You've been nothing but a gentleman, Tree, and I know we haven't really had the long, private talk we probably should have. But...yes, you can put your arm around me. And thank you for picking these up." She offers Tree a slightly hesitant, but genuine, smile. A moment later, she leans forward a bit to look over the railing at the scene below. As is typical at events like these, the prep work always takes longer than it feels like it should. But finally, the warriors are getting into position and the judges are beginning to take the field. |
| Wandering Tree | Wandering Tree is maybe holding his breath as he waits for her answer, or maybe his lungs just really hold a lot of air when he's at rest. He eventually inhales again though, smiling as he sets an arm over Bright's shoulders and wrapping down around her arm. It's also clear that he's holding up most the weight of it himself, rather than crush her. "I'm glad you like it. The wine, I mean."
He leans forward as she does, following her gaze down to the fighting grounds. "Ah, some action is coming soon?" |
| Bright Journey | To be sure, Bright isn't chattel. She's certainly fit, and in the past she's alluded to events that would make one conclude she's not helpless in a fight. But she's certainly never going to have the sheer upper body strength Tree effortlessly carries. When he puts an arm around Bright, she's tense for a long moment. It takes her a bit to relax, though with her perfect poker face, it's incredibly difficult to tell if it's a conscious effort or not. At least part of her attention is on the arena floor in any event. "Looks like," Bright replies, as the stentorian voice of the announcer cuts through the cacophonous din of the crowd to make himself heard.
"Good people of Great Forks! It is my honor tonight to present another evening of excellent combat! The Congregation of Victory continues to the Teams Quarterfinal Round tonight, with a series of..." The announcer drones on for a few minutes more. Bright chuckles and takes another long sip of wine as he finally gets around to mentioning the team names. The announcer's voice is actually pretty amazing. Makes one wonder if they don't have an artifact loudener or something. "The East River Vipers face off against Fortuitous Honor for the right to progress to the next round! Let the battle begin!" And with that, the teams are squared off against each other, with a head judge's arm out between them. After they settle, the judge raises her arm, the true sign to begin! |
| Wandering Tree | Wandering Tree looks out at the arena, clearly interested in the matchup and what's to come. He does keep stealing glances at Bright though, his eyes thoughtful as he ponders on how it feels both familiar, and not quite right at the same time. The angle was wrong, or something. Even so, his arm tightens just a bit as the game begin as he refocuses and stops thinking about it too hard. "Do you have a favorite between these teams?" |
| Bright Journey | Bright lets herself lean towards Tree, just a bit, as the two of them take in the beginning of the fight. She pauses, though, at Tree's question, considering it sincerely.
"Hrm. You know, I'm not a martial artist at all--you want Silk for that--but I think I'd rather the dojo team to win. just looking between them, I'm honestly not sure how well they even know each other, but they have to have figured out something if they gott this far." She takes a sip thoughtfully. "The gang team....eh. I'm not thrilled by them winning, but I'll say this much: They can't be just...normal gang members. They have to have -something- to them or they'd have never gotten half this far. It looks like they're all from the same gang, so maybe they have better teamwork." Indeed, the beginning of the fight doesn't play out how it would in a fireside story. The four gi-clad martial artists start moving forward with a purpose, spreading out and closing the distance fairly rapidly, while the four gangers all but tighten up their formation, then almost as one move to their left. As a relatively close knot they go from slow walk to sprint in an instant, trying to catch that flank off guard. The tactic lets them get a few good strikes in first as the far side martial artist defends...but it costs him, clearly. As he tries to back off, the other three martial artists finally close the distance and pepper the closest ganger with high and low strikes. |
| Wandering Tree | Wandering Tree watches the groups clash intently, his eyes following their movements with quick practiced. His arm stays draped around Bright's shoulders, growing more relaxed the less he thinks about it. Eventually he has to reluctantly retract his arm to refill his empty goblet. He offers the bottles to Bright as well before setting them down and extending his arm back to curl around her.
"Looks like you were right about them, at least in part. They move together well. A coordinated pack is not to be underestimated, in the wild or in the arena." |
| Bright Journey | "Mmm," Bright murmurs, and just like Tree, she grows more relaxed as she thinks less about it, instead becoming more absorbed in the tactics of the fight.
"I wonder if Fortuitous Honor actually met after coming here to fight solo? They're definitely better than any one of the gangers. But they're not all doing the same thing. You know, sometimes I wonder if I should have learned a martial art at some point. Not really to fight and win a battle, mind you, but maybe for defense. I admit, I'm stronger the farther away I am from someone, for a couple reasons." She continues to watch, gratefully accepting a replacement pour of wine. The gangers took one of the martial artists out quickly, but two of the martial artists took a heavy toll on the ganger in front, probably their leader. The high-low caught him unawares and a flying kick knocked him out cold. The third martial artist, though, got pole-axed by all three remaining gangers, and soon the entire battle is reduced to a frantic scrum at close range. |
| Wandering Tree | Wandering Tree watches the fighters, sizing them up with an expert pair of eyes. "I think you may be right about Fortuitous Honor. Their style doesn't even quite match, not exactly. Hmmmm... I admit that I don't exactly follow a formal style like them, but there is something to be said for being able to defend yourself if surprised up close. I know for sure that anyone trying that on me would have quite the shock coming to them, but I'm sure you have ways of delivering the same lesson?"
He shrugs, the motion resettling arm around her in a closer hug as his thoughts wander. |
| Bright Journey | Bright chuckles as she watches, and she doesn't even really realize it when she settles in, leaning against Tree as the pair of them watch the fight finish up. As they do so, she replies, "Well, to some extent. Believe me, I know a few tricks. More than a few. I think I already mentioned I'm good with a bow, and I'm a sorceress too. There's a lot of reasons people would want to close the distance with me. Having good friends around to help as I strike from range is really what I'm best at, but bring better able to get away might help. I'm not helpless up close, but...well, you get the idea."
The scrum down below is just about over. Of both teams, only one person is conscious. A wiry, lithe young woman in East River Viper colors slowly gets to her feet, her sheer ability to get out of the way of everything the only thing keeping her up. Bloodied, bruised, but unbowed, the fight is called as the cheers and whistles rock the Arena from east to west. |