Private Are You Not Entertained?

[Venku Bralor]

Tags: Cato Felix

The gladiator ring echoed with cheers and shouts. The sound of clashing metal ripped through the air and the grunts and cries of the fighters were drowned in the den of noise. Leaving their sentience lost in the dust with the blood and hopes of thousands. Peaceful Chaos couldn't hear any of it. They could smell the briney stench of sweat and coppery tang of blood. Could see the crowds cheering and shouting, see the sun reflecting off blade as the two opponents fought. Watched as the light flitted dully of worn metal of shock collars.
The ground in the atrium was dusty and rough. The dry cold stone pulling uncomfortably at their scales. The air in contrast was humid with sweat and hot. It was times like this when Tyaxiv was acutely aware of the newness of their species. Already they could feel the eyes of several slavers pinned on them, judging how much of the dullness was dirt and how much was natural. Judging if the horns on their head were real or fake. They were fake, but the slavers didn't know that. Once again they were thankful for the Swarming Stingers hidden in their headdress. Few beings knew how to counteract the weapon.

The crowd roared as the fight came to an end, people cheering in perverse joy or screaming in equally perverse anger. Peaceful Chaos couldn't hear it. They could see the feet that came for them, the sticky drinks and snacks that targeted their already dirty back. It was with no small use of the force that they remained clean. They make it to the bottom of the stadium with some difficulty, watching as the next match stars. They didn’t notice the wookie to their left. Not until he kicked them, sending them flying into the pit below.

The noise hiccuped and people stared as the wyrru sailed through the air, body curling as they went. They landed roughly between the fighters, sand spraying into the air as they slid. The headdress bounced painfully against their skull, but ultimately stayed in place. The silence didn’t last long. Soon the masters were screaming, threatening the slaves and forcing Peaceful Chaos to slip out of the way. It continued that way for a while before they realized five of the six slaves were all attacking one man. Rage burned hot inside them at the injustice of it. To attack a man like that was to give them little chance of success. This they knew from experience. It was the main tactic of the swarming stingers. Even so, these fighters did not work together with the fluidity of stingers. The rage built as they avoided yet another fighter. These were lives they played with so casually. It could not be allowed to stand, would not be allowed to stand.

The gladiator ring echoed with jeers and shouts. The sound of clashing metal ripped through the air and the grunts and cries of the fighters were drowned out in the den of noise. Leaving their sentience lost in the dust with the blood and hopes of thousands. Peaceful couldn’t hear any of it. They could only see the sand fly and the blades clash. Watch as the slavers rose up in arms in a bid to capture them. This couldn’t get any worse.

 

[Cato Felix]

Tyaxiv
OOC: You posted on the wrong guy just so you know
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Cato ducked low as the flying object flew over his head from the corner of his vision. What the kark? Cato thought as he regained his posture. The arena had brought many foes before him, but was that what he thought it was? A flying, rainbow..snake?

He didn't have time to look before one of six opponents swung a vibro blade at him. Cato's own weapons, dual hatchets, collided with the blade. Unable to break the weapon-lock, Cato kicked forward, hitting the man in the gut and breaking the lock. He followed up with a one-armed strike, hitting the skull of the man and killing him instantly.

Now, with time to observe the snake, he did so.

It was indeed a rainbow snake, a bit bigger than any he had seen, but a snake nonetheless. The odd part was that it was in a defensive posture as two men approached it. Maybe it was on Cato's side? Maybe it was a three-way fight? With three men focused on Cato, he couldn't watch the snake fight, but if the slavers put it in the arena, surely it was capable of fighting.

Cato turned to the three remaining gladiators, ready to end this fight...

 

[Tyaxiv]

Tags: Cato Felix
OOC: i just saw, oops.
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Steel sang as Swarming Stingers made their way out of the lopsided headdress. Buzzing filled the air around them, a low drone in the ears of others. Four Stingers shot towards the slavers. Of those four, one missed entirely, speeding past the slaver. Another scraped painfully against a leg of the same individual. Of the last two, two slavers found themselves flying out of control. Lax fingers sending the jet packs careening into the earth, the blood of slavers water the ground next to the blood of slaves. Brought down to the level of those they bought and sold like cattle.
This did little to help. It only enticed more slavers to take to the air, soon landing in the arena, having learned from their predecessors mistakes. The remaining two slavers joining them not long after. Really, it can always get worse.

 

[Cato Felix]

The krell?

Slavers entered the arena, dropping in like flies. The snake was obviously their target.

Then it became clear. They wanted the snake. It was obviously rare, and probably of great value to them. Furthermore, apparently they wanted to end Cato.

If that's the case.... Cato ran forward, sliding to the ground and taking a slavers' legs out from under him. Then, using the momentum, he threw himself up, throwing one hatchet at a slaver. Two more ran toward him. He didn't stop running. He slit the throat of one, then dodged the other completely.

He was going to break free, and this snake was coming with him. For whatever reason, he felt inclined to help it. Perhaps because he knew what the slavers would do, or maybe because the snake was the reason he was breaking free. Who knows?

He approached the snake, killing as he ran.

 

[Tyaxiv]

Tags: Cato Felix

Xivoch, and all they stood for,, often got a bad rap. Chaos was everywhere, in day to day life and monumental decisions. it's rarely noticed as much as it is in battle. in mass destruction and death. While it wasn't the only times Xivoch visited, it was the most remembered. They weren't wrong. Battle was chaotic. But it was also, in a way, controlled. Not in the same way as day to day chaos, but in a battle there were always at least two opponents, who were always trying to defeat the other. This often included personal fighting styles. When it came to multiple opponents, it was well known that they never attacked as one. Even while fighting as a group, the blows would fall at different times. As the style of the Swarming Stingers required, Peaceful Chaos knew how to exploit the chaos of the battle field.

As such, it was of little difficulty to grab hold of the sand that made the floor and whip it into a frenzy, sending it into the eyes of the slavers -and slaves - in an attempt to disorient and confuse. Of course it was of little use when the slaver in question had the good sense to wear a covered helm. In the chaos of battle, sand stripped flesh from bone where it found any, and where there was no opening, the swarming stingers made them. The weapon was not made for a crowd weapon. They relied on multifaceted attacks to disorient and confuse the opponent. When face against as many opponents at this, it was best to use ones surroundings. Even if doing so limited Peaceful Chaos number of stingers to four.
The helmeted ones fell first. The noise of sand tinging against helms defending them to the buzz of the singers as the slit throats and severed wrists, an often easier - if slower - target to hit with the small blades.

From above, the wyrru could be found in the center of the sand, the eye of the hurricane, which swirled around them in dull yellows and glistening golds of the sand, mixed with the blood of slavers and slaved alike. Still, the technique was a taxing one. Already they could feel exhaustion tugging at their thoughts. Heading the warnings, the sandstorm fell with such abruptness that the surprise alone allowed them to dispatch another wretched slaver. They couldn't do much more than that. Their spines rattled with exhaustion, body shaking from over exertion. The were barely able to jerk the blaster of the next slaver to the side, sending the stun round into the wall.

 

[Cato Felix]

The Snake was able to create a sandstorm. Impressive, and interesting. Cato didn't bother to figure out how. The Snake was exhausted.

Cato killed three more gladiators, or slavers, or whatever they were, as he approached the snake. He saw how exhausted the being was, it was shaking from tiredness. He felt such pity for the situation it was going through. It was bad enough to do this to humanoids, but a snake? It was a true sickness. The slavers had made Cato fight his whole life, the snake wasn't fit for such a thing. And what for? Greed? Cato had won enough battles to be a millionaire outside of this place, but instead, the mercenaries, slavers, and foul beings that watched him fight for his life pocketed the credits. They would pay one day. For now, the best Cato could do was remove the snake from their grasp, and remove himself from their services, dispatching as many as he could as he did.

Finally he reached the snake. It was a bit larger than he had anticipated. Breathing heavily from his sprint, he reached down to grab it, hoping it'd recognize him as a friend, not a foe...

 

[Tyaxiv]

The gladiator ring echoed with screams and shouts. These were not the joyful cheers of before. They were tinged with fear and anger, accented by the panicking crowd, trying to flee the fight.

Bodies litter the floor of the ring, their blood staining the sand crimson. Peaceful Chaos thrashes around in the arms of the human. Spines jerking, their sharp tips cutting into flesh.
They had to get away! They wouldn’t let they slaver cart them off. Their people had too much riding on them to let themselves get captured.

Except…
This one didn’t feel like a slaver. His spirit sung of hope; shining like a star in the black of space, and bitter anger; fueled by long years of imprisonment and carefully tended until it would be needed. No. This was no slaver.

It was a slave. Making his bid to escape, and saving Peaceful Chaos along the way. Their thrashing stopped, leaving bloody cuts along the arms of the slave. They wouldn’t be his first scars.
The Swarming Stingers were sheathed back into their headdress, hidden once more from the cursory view of others. The wyrru’s body felt heavy. They had underestimated the strength needed to control the sand. It weighed much more than the space dust which the technique was based off of. Everything was heavier in a gravity well.
Spines ticked as they signed words. The human wouldn’t understand, but they weren’t speaking to the human. Instead they talked to themselves, a simple phrase repeated over and over.
“I am Peacful Chaos.” Names were more than just signs assigned to a person. They were a peak into the spirit, the core of a being. To state ones name like that was to state their very existence, everything that made them who they were. “I am afraid, yet I will not cower.” Indeed they were surrounded by destruction and death, but there was no reason to cower. It would get them no where.

 

[Cato Felix]

Sithspit this thing was heavy, it was bad enough that they were being swarmed from several directions. Furthermore, the creature had indeed mistaken Cato for an enemy, fighting with the little energy it had left. Finally, it either stopped from exhaustion, or recognized that Cato was friend, not foe. Still, the struggle left Cato's arms sliced severely. His legs already grew tired from running with the added weight, and his arms were numb from holding the snake.

Enemy after enemy fell as Cato dodged, kicked, and shoved past them. His hatchets were left in the sand, and his armor was losing its' durability. The large snake was very still, and Cato wondered if it lived. Still, he would not allow any harm to come to it. This creature was not going to replace him, bound for an eternity of fighting. No. It would live freely, and as would Cato.

Finally he reached the gates of the arena...with no way through. Desperate, he said a few words to the snake, so quiet that he barley heard himself speak. "Go, you can fit through. Be free."

He let the creature go, unsure and uncaring if it understood his words.

He may not escape, but death would set him free.

He met the slavers head-on.

 

[Tyaxiv]

Tags: Cato Felix

The man set them down on the floor, motioning to the barred gate with a scream. He wanted them to leave. He would stay behind to figh them off. He would loose. This was unacceptable. The man risked life and limb to save them, they would just abandon him.

Gathering what strength they had, Peaceful Chaos prepared to rip the door off its hinges. They would get both of them out. The force screamed behind them. A blaster was aimed, the sights aligned. Finger pulled down on the trigger. The force jerked the arm away with a snap that was drowned out by the firing of a blaster. The slug, which had been aiming for the gladiator's unprotected back flew instead for the gate and Peaceful Chaos. It clipped their body, sending a spray of flesh and blood before slamming into the keypad of the gate. Xivoch be praised, that shot was pure luck.

bleeding and tired, the wyrru wrapped their tail around the human's ankles, nudging towards the now open door. They were both free.

 

[Cato Felix]

Freedom

The snake had been shot, but the shot had opened the gate. This freedom was literally paid for with blood.

He imagined escaping, seeing planets, or just places he had never seen before. He imagined oceans, something he was yet to experience outside of holograms. He imagined flying, space, and sleeping without worrying about the next opponent. He imagined real meals, not just the slop that he ate every day except for the one meal per year that wasn't synthetic junk.

Adrenaline flowed through his veins, his energy returning. He kicked back a slaver, and then ran, faster than ever before. The heavy snake did little to slow him down as he took long steps, left foot, right foot, left foot, right...he saw the city around him. Felt the wind hit his sunburnt, callaced skin.

The slavers dropped their pursuit, unable to catch the free man, and the strange snake. They were free!

He didn't stop running until he was half way through the city. The slavers were long gone.

What comes next?