should I be worried? :joy: | matt vs portia [bloodbath]
Jun 22, 2024 12:41:57 GMT -5
Post by d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel on Jun 22, 2024 12:41:57 GMT -5
This. This is not what she imagined her arena uniform to look like. A lot of leather, Portia squeaks whenever she moves her arms. The only part of her without cow’s hide is her legs, floral fishnet tights compliment a pair of black leather boots. Her hair is pulled back with a hell of a lot of hairspray and gel. It looks like she has just stepped out of the shower. The only color on her is the beige patches and gold oversized buttons on her dress. All the rest is black, a contrast to the royal purple she wore at the sponsorship gala.
”I look awful. I feel awful.” Portia tells the reflection in the glass pod.
There is some color in the room though, a neon ribbon thing with a card clipped to it. Something about a backstage pass. It is no medal, the one her little sister gave her in the Justice Building is tucked under her dress, around her neck. She wears the lanyard above it. ”I suppose this is something important…” The reflection in the pod’s glass doesn’t say anything back to her. Portia is so used to getting a pep talk from her trainers before every competition. Here she is alone. Left to figure this all out by herself.
It has been a successful week in the training center, so she thinks. The 9-training score put a dampener on things, she was aiming for double digits. But she found teammates, Sera and Circe. That’s her game plan, finding them again.
The elevator seals shut, all that is between her and fleeing death is a 10-inch-thick shatterproof pod of glass. Portia is committed now, no matter how old-fashioned she finds the games, she is going to play them. For her own sake only. There’s a family name to uphold too but she is not going to allow her body to be death’s trophy. She is going to get her own and it is going to fit perfectly on the top of her head.
”Time to go up then…” Portia exhales, her arms hang down with her fists clenched in the tightest fists ever. Her fingernails dig deep into the skin of her palms and her knuckles turn a sickly white. The pod jolts and Portia saves herself from falling by planting her now unclenched hands on the glass. ”Shit!” This doesn’t feel like she is going up. A twist? It is what she has been wanting the entire time.
Muffled music blasts from somewhere, its source is nowhere to be seen. It sounds like she is back at the sponsorship gala instead there is no glam here. It looks like some backroom she accidentally lost herself in while in the Training Centre. Clutter is stacked up all around, a spaghetti junction of wires and speakers that are either stood upright or laid on their side. There are rails filled with clothes better than what she is wearing. Nothing in here looks like a cornucopia, maybe the black crates are filled with wealth?
Others are here but not everyone. No Circe or Sera, not even Jupiter. ”Where is everyone else?” She asks, but all the faces look just as confused as she does. She sees knives in this boring twist of a room though, it can’t be no mistake.
Get your ass out of here. Fight if you must then go and find the Circe and Sera. You’ve got this! That’s the pep talk she gives herself.
Her hands resume their fist position, she will have to push some dude out of the way to reach the knife that is perched perfectly on a spotlight. ”Should I be worried about you or can I get out of here without having to punch you in the face?” She asks him but doesn’t give him the chance to answer. The only way out of here is by having the head start and Portia always the hare, the tortoise story doesn’t apply when her life is on the line.
Portia pulls back her right arm, aiming for their head. The leather dress squeaks just as she throws the punch. Perfect!
Portia attacks Matt Colekay | Fist
lQw6eN|7Dounarmed
[5113 -- Block -- 0.0 damage]
Accuracy
unarmed
[2 dmg]
[Picks Up Knife]
lQw6eN|7Dounarmed
[5113 -- Block -- 0.0 damage]
Accuracy
unarmed
[2 dmg]
[Picks Up Knife]
unarmed·unarmed