[centre][h2]The Zenith - Medical Isolation Ward[/h2]
[h1]Above Boston[/h1]
[sub]21st January, 2011[/sub][/centre]


Behind the glass, the soldiers visibly tensed as Anomaly tore the bed to shreds. Yamada, on the other hand, met the girl’s wide smile with her own. “It’s not healthy to leave all that emotion bottled up. Well, not healthy for you. Letting it out isn’t necessarily the best thing for any soft furnishings nearby.”

A series of small bleeps pierced the air from somewhere near the doctor’s waist. She glanced down at the pager, and her eyes widened slightly. “Oh bugger. I completely forgot that I have somewhere to be right now. Well, I have no doubt that you are still you, but would you like to make these sessions a regular thing? I wouldn’t mind making the trip over to help you out.”

“In fact, I’d thoroughly enjoy it.” 

[@Banana]

[hr]

[centre][h2]The Circus Maximus[/h2]
[h1]Victory Road[/h1]
[sub]21st January, 2011[/sub][/centre]

As the crowd began to cheer for the upcoming match - mostly out of habit, or hope that Sickle might lose - his lips curled up into a smirk under the cold, white mask. Automaton. She’d been at the chaos earlier today, although he hadn’t seen her. A compiled list of basically every independant present had been waiting for him upon his return for Dorchester, and it make for interesting reading since basically every other cape was officially unaligned. 

His opponent was a tinker specialising in self-improvement. Not a bad power, as powers went. She’d arrived as an independant under Gladius’s payroll, and left as the newest member of Wonderland’s little ‘thing’ they had going. The rest of the information made that last bit stand out. She really didn’t seem the Wonderland type. It was clear just how much she valued the freedom they purported, but how long would she really last? Only time would tell.

Still, this fight would be little more than a farce. He’d taken down far bigger enemies than her - even before he’d gotten powers. That being said, he was never one to turn down a chance to shock the established order. “Well, looks like i’m up,” he said to his allies around him. “But first, I fancy a bet.” 

Scribbling down a bet for a serious amount of cash - some $250,000, the last of his winnings from his victory in the very same arena nearly a year ago - he approached the announcer and betting manager. “Do me a favour. Place a bet for me. Can’t hang around, need to get myself prepared.” Handing over both the scrap of paper and a check for the money, he vanished down a set of stairs and underneath the building, to snake through the tunnels up to the cage. 

Walking out brought back so many memories. The last time he’d been here was as a comparative nobody. Everyone in the room had known him, but by reputation only. He didn’t even have a cape name before that night. It was just before that match he’d submitted the name the entire underworld now feared. They all wanted to see him lose. Most who did had bet on him to win. His smirk grew larger. The lights, bright and coarse, cast malevolent shadows all across the edge of the arena. A smell of blood hung in the air - barely noticeable, at least to him. 

He took a deep breath, stewing in that unique atmosphere.

God, was he looking forward to this.

[@Migyudon][@Duoya][@Lasrever][@Old Amsterdam][@SkinnyTy][@PlatinumSkink]