[center][h3]Esaka, the Tiered City[/h3]
[b]Yayama Yama[/b]
Status: Ruminating
LV: 6, EXP: 39/60
Word Count: 469 (+1)[/center]

After everyone had begun filtering out of the restaurant and into the casino, Yayama had declined to follow the rest. She fully intended to get a solid night's sleep while it was a possibility, and she'd had [i]quite[/i] enough Manderville nonsense to sate her appetite for seeing casinos for the next two centuries. [i]Not that we have that time.[/i] She trusted the others not to do anything terribly stupid, so the lalafell headed back to the Roman Cancel on her own, setting a leisurely pace. 

While she walked, she considered what her tournament future looked like. Yayama hadn't heard anything about her next foe, which probably meant she could overcome them with a bit of luck and a bit more grit, but what she was hearing about the one after that concerned the dark knight. [i]Big contender, huh? And apparently I'm not a big enough obstacle to consider, if this Azrael guy's supposed to get a clean sweep after me.[/i] No information on his capabilities was bad, too. [i]We're - I'm - so much weaker here than I was, too. It's not just the Principles.[/i]

The original Yayama Yama was something of a unique existence, even stood next to the famous Petra Stelle. Her soul was denser than everyone but said Au Ra's, and it had swirled with a blend of light and dark-aspected aether rarely found in combination. Her current incarnation had faithfully recreated the problems that arose from that, much to her dismay, but something about the process just hadn't remade her in full. She supposed it made sense; if Galeem were actually fully recreating Hydaelyn's blessings, for one, then its unique form of tempering wouldn't have worked in the first place.

Yayama shuddered at that thought. Thankfully, gleaming seemed to be easier to cure than tempering, but the idea of existing for so long with her will suborned like that was. . . disturbing. Moreso was the idea that she'd done so potentially dozens upon dozens of times, each time unaware she was merely serving to keep a perpetual engine of death running. There was a sick humor to it, as well, with how she'd been traipsing about in an outfit she'd designed to be a warning to the residents of the Crystarium, proclaiming herself to be a champion of Light all the while.

[i]Guess I'll just have to hope I get to punch the bastard in the face before I evaporate this time, and maybe that someone finds the next Warrior of Darkness faster this time.[/i] 

Unless they could fix themselves somehow, of course. Do something to bring back their worlds in all their former glory, restore their original existences. . . "Gods damn you, Hades. I didn't want to wear your blasted boots, much less walk a league in them."