[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.cdn.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjY2LjIzY2ZlNy5RMkZsYzJGeS4w/vtks-madalena.regular.png[/img][/center]
[hr]
Caesar opened his eyes, laying where he was. He could feel pain, and he knew it was serious. Not like last time against that Saban. He fixed the ceiling with a dull glare, listening to.... Slick. The maniacal pyro. Who... Won.

This was twice he'd been bested by another. Sure he made them regret it each time but....

Was it possible he wasn't strong enough? The damage to his arms and chest seemed like solid indicators that something was amiss. It just... It didn't make sense. He couldn't go 100%, for other's sake, and he didn't [I]need[/I] to.... But then....

Why did he keep losing and getting injured? Yeah he healed fast and it really didn't hurt unbearably but...

What was going wrong?

He'd let the crew down. He'd, well, he'd let himself down.

He laid there, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling, for an eternity. The next match was starting but, well, he just couldn't bring himself to care about it.

He had failed too many times in too short a period for these to be flukes. It just didn't make sense. He couldn't even score 2 points against Launcher.

Idly he wondered if he should find her and commend her for her victory but.... He couldn't bring himself to. Maybe it was poor form, and really she did cut a striking figure, but he couldn't bare the thought of admitting he was a failure.

A sigh escaped his lips as he closed his eyes. He should thank Liliana. This felt like her work.

But she shouldn't have needed to do this in the first place. He shouldn't be in this condition.

None of this was right.

For now.... For now he would listen to the fight.