Gersham was replaying the disc that he bought denoting the recent match he had with Iria when he had been interrupted by the blue skinned reptilian creature. He bid him entrance int the chamber, a rather simple room in the back of the arena with a viewer. He turned t Sido expectantly.

“We think we have acquired Salvation.”

Excellent. Gersham said as he paused the viewer. They had fund the student after all it seemed but he went with Sido to the cells to check and ensure that they had the right girl.

“Says her name is -”

Gersham cut the alien ff as they walked amongst the halls with a raised hand. It is meaningless if you tell me. I will pry it out of her lips when I beat her and she understands that I do not need tricks to do so.

Sido nodded as they got to the back. Those students that were not getting ready for a match were here, most timid and afraid, backing away from the bars. It was as if he were choosing up a steak or lobster he wished to have prepared for him. Looking, he smiles seeing Sally was indeed amongst them.

S they did manage to find you after all, Sally.

Waking up nearly naked in a cage was not itself a new experience for Kite. But this one was. Wrong smell for the basement. Likewise the Labs, they always smell of disinfectant and ozone. Doesn't have the oppressive aura of either the mosquito's or the torch-head's pocket-hells.

"So where the fuck am i now?" Kite mused as she paced her enclosure. She could hear snivelling. Whimpering. Fear. Quite a lot of fear. Kite had a habit on what to do about things that made others afraid.

They hadn't taken her collar, and someone had clamped a metal manacle around her left wrist that squeezed the edges of the waxy seal, and the seal was blue now rather than red. What did that mean?

Kite moved up to the bars with a snarl, looking up and down the hallway, not much to see in the dim gloom. Until he showed up.

"Well, i did say i'd be easy to find." Kite didn't flinch from him as he approached, a snarling grin on her face instead, if he was here, glad they 'found' her, well, then there was going to be bloodshed. She liked bloodshed.

"Didn't think they'd let it actually happen." Let the others stink of fear, the pens after pens of trembling meat. Even as he stepped right up to the bars, even after what he'd done to her when they last met, no fear.

In fact, not only no fear, but reaching out between the bars to try to grab his shoulder and yank him forward and slam his face into the bars of the cage.

Yes, you were right about them managing to locate you, Sally.[.b] He grinned. [b]They are fairly efficient in their jobs here and were able to find what I desired without incident.

The holding area was already palpable with the aroma of fear. The first time he as here the scent was over powering but he had found the one with the least fear. That was what he had been after anyway. Now it was her that had the least degree of fear though that was expected. He actually hoped she wouldn't be one of the quivering members of fear, a bundle of nerves. He very much doubt that.

As she reached between the bars, however, Gersham stepped back. Curtsey of his third eye he could see intentions before they happened. He didn't know what was going to happen though.

He grinned at her. [color=#FFFF00] Wait until we get out there before you start shamelessly touching me, Sally.[/color]Gersham chuckled and glanced to Sido. She is the one, prepare her and we'll go on at first opportunity.

“There's an intermission coming up, after that you'll be the first fight.”

Make it so. He nodded then looked back to the cell. I am going to enjoy this, Sally.

He chuckled, blew her a kiss then sauntered off to get ready for their match seeing next when they were out on that sandy arena.

Kite said nothing as he walked away... the blue fucker didn't. "And? What do you want, smurf?"

The blue alien didn't say a thing. Not until three more showed up leveling weapons she didn't recognize at her.

"...You seem to know a fair bit about me, but I don't know a damn thing about you..."

"Oh, be quiet. Had we our way, you'd not know of this place. You'll give him his pride-match and be well gone."

Kite says nothing while they open the cage, they're just handlers, just tools. No point or pleasure in fighting them. But they step back as she steps forward. "i have a reputation, do i?"

She laughs, a loud, shameless cackle of sadistic glee, as they point her down the halls, making no effort to hide her nudity as she strides past the cells, nor to hide her clear and present insanity.

The smurfs, as she is adamant to think of them, harry her down the hall to a large, but fairly spartan room with some exercise equipment and a table. "When the other door opens, go through it onto the sands. You have until then to make ready."

Kite didn't respond. Someone had gone quite far to let her 'make ready' to an extent that could only be eclipsed by several hours with an unsupervised metalworking workshop.

On a table there lay... her stuff. When she'd arrived on the campus without it, she'd assumed it destroyed. Certainly what of it had been confiscated after making it on campus she was sure had been obliterated. It wasn't her uniform, but the thick rubber harness was a welcome sight for how many of her knives we snugged into its notches for them.

Dressing doesn't take long, and she starts doing stretches to accustom herself to its movements, testing her reach for each of the knives now strapped to her body, each of their wonderfully painful chemical taints at least smelling intact on close examination. She feels lighter on her feet than is usual, and her expression only grows more exultant when she tests herself on the punching bag. She doesn't think they'd use lightweight bags here, she feels stronger than she's ever felt. Had the fool been telling the truth? Was she truly outside the reach of the inhibitors?

Kite stares for a long moment at her left hand, before clenching it into a fist sharply, her forearm erupting in pale blue flames.

"Are you back...?" She whispers almost reverentially, staring into the fire for nearly a minute, then sighing. "No, you're not. Your power is, though... well, i'll be sure to make good use of it. She opens her hand and lets the flames die out, and shades her palm in case anyone might be looking. "And of this, too. That will make a lovely surprise."

Kite feels good. The only leash on her right now is one of her own choosing. The strappy blue rubber clung to her body tightly, and her implements of exohematosis made it creak as she moved. She could almost taste the blood in her mouth already. And the best part, was that nobody had said anything about any pesky rules.

To the victor went the spoils. The girls usual fought to resist said monster/demon/cyborg/fill in the blank. If they won then that was one less then raping them silly at least for a day. Most bouts were heavily lop sided or there was the occasional fixed match.

If a girl lost, however, her shame was witnessed before thousands. Recorded and distributed galaxy wide. Gersham had a collection of his fights but not for a supply of pornographic imagery. Rather he actually studied his fights, flaws, strengths of his opponents and while he expected her to be nothing like Iria he had been watching the second match that he had with the Amazon.

He was making mistakes early on in that one, confident because he had a victory over her already. He had the knowledge that he had won and took that to assume that he could easily do it again and again. Not the case.

While he did not have a victory over Sally in the arena he did have one over her at the school. He did not think too much over victories there since things were so one sided. He could loose but only Aegir could “kill” given the nature of his existence so he didn't have any instructions dished out to her ahead of time. He would not kill her, one of the few rules.

Gersham even instructed the announcer to introduce his opponent as Salvation. He would get her name from her lips or not at all.

He finished watching the footage with the fight he had with Iria, the second fight was the footage then did a little prep himself magical strengthening his skin to the hardness of steal. It would further help when he conjured the wings, he had learned in one of the fights with Iria after the fact that he could fortify the wings easily enough but the wings weren't always out. If he enhanced his flesh the enchantment extended to the wings when he used them.

Next he slipped on the gauntlets that had extended claws since his had been much smaller he had since learned and not up for true combat. He was part incubus and not designed like other demons. This fight he'd start off cautiously, have a little fun then see about opening it up when it looked safe enough.

There were too many unknowns here. No footage of earlier fights at the arena that had been given to him and while her style might suggest hand to hand that might have been because she had her weapons confiscated.

“Ten minutes,” Sido said after rapping at the door. Gersham nodded then conjured up the wavy shadowy blade that dripped acid despite being comprised of shadows. If disarmed of it the blade would break up into shadow and was easy enough to replace if he had a moment at least.

Hand-to-hand, close in, put the pressure one. That's what he surmised as he walked down the halls to the door leading out to the arena.

He could hear the crowds chanting his name. He had won them over in his series of fights with Iria and since he only took on tough fighters they came to learn that one way or another they would be entertained. Salvation was introduced to a crowd that had to be ogling her, anticipating his victory over her to see her tits, her ass, to watch her get fucked into oblivion. Then he was announced after a moment. He let the cheering build a little then emerge out into the white sands of the arena, a grin on her features as he regarded her in that moment.

Stretches were simple enough. She felt lighter, stronger...no inhibitors, no chip breaking her thoughts, even her fire and her blade returned to her. Though she doubted they were fools, and even without inhibitors she was sure the other two shackles could come crashing closed fairly quickly. It wouldn't make sense but to enjoy this while she had it. Still. She never expected to ever actually get out from under the inhibitors. Never expected to find what so many years pushing herself beyond all reason under them had done.

She simply waited, a sneering grin on her face. Would she win? Could she? Maybe. But win or lose, she would spill blood upon the snarling, thirsty sands. It was amusing to hear the announcer scream her introduction as the door opened, in part for the dry quip about all kittens being born with claws, though it also told her something about the nature of the files they kept here that they tag-lined her as the last member of the Hellcat Quartet. Had any of her sisters passed through this gate? It seemed unlikely, even if she knew not where across the cosmos they had been scattered to.

She strides out onto the sand, supremely confident. Who needs to know that it is not victory she is assured of, but simply revelling in bloodshed? She had not the slightest hesitation or fear in her. The crowd meant nothing. Even from across the arena, she practically radiated the urge to violence. No intent within her but to hurt, and hopefully kill.

He was introduced as the Black Prince. He had memories of his kingdom though he had no idea what had happened to it. It had been another one of those pieces of information that was gone and didn't make much sense to him.

In many ways he was like her. Win or loose he enjoyed the thrill of combat and could hear the thrill of the crowd well before he stepped into the arena. It was clear that he had won them over, that his matches weren't the typical one sided affairs.

This promoted the crowd to only guess at what the new comer was capable of. Gersham moved closer to the center of the arena. A quick appraisal of the arena and he saw that it was unlike most times he entered into it.

Sometimes an aspect had been changed, a feature added to make things interesting and no doubt today was no different. Their were numerous pillars with spikes jutting out of them. Additional weapons no doubt. He cast his eyes across at Sally offering up a mock salute as acid dripped from the blade. He assessed her, first and foremost understanding that the stakes were much different her he had no intention of a student catching him flat footed again like in his first encounter.

He started things off simply just to check her reflexes now as black miasma surrounded his left hand briefly before he hurled the orb of heat sucking energy straight at her. He realized that the pillars were going to make targeting tougher, he would have to stay in close to effectively use them but fortunately that was not his only trick.

Engarde.

He said more of an after thought.

Kite threw her head back in a cackle of insane glee as she beheld the arena. They had covered it in beautiful sharpness, just for her!

The crowd's roar meant nothing to her as she walked forward across the sand, madness shining in her eyes. There was likely little doubt in Gersham's mind of her unhinged mind from their prior encounter, but what she had found in being removed from the inhibitors, rather than unhinged she more appeared to have lost all perception of what 'hinged' might entail, or even look like.

She dodged to one side of the black fireball, drawing a knife from the webbing at her chest and using it to deflect the fireball slightly, more to reassure herself that she could than any feeling of need to guide it to smash into one of the pillars of blades.

"Engarde," he said.

"Always, prince charming. Aren't you?" And with that she charged. Hoping the pillars would encourage him to close in as well. Her hands throbbed with the desire to unleash herself upon him, but she waited, she wanted that to be a surprise. Use it tactically, not just violently... Don't blow them up until you can see the whites of their eyes...helps savour it.

The black ball of miasma she discovers is mostly shadow stuff but some of it is quasi real too allowing her to deflect it. If it were unreal it would have been like a knife cleaving through water. No this was no more like a knife cutting through jello.

The pillars were somewhat new to him. In a battle with Iria they were whirling blades but they effectively cut down his options. No clear lines of fire, unable to use his wings on the arena floor anyway.

The pillars would make it impossible to maneuver without snagging them on a pillar.

He smiled as she came forward. Such a mouth on this one, better with his cock in it though knowing her she'd probably try to bit …

He did intend to stay close but he used his Shadow Magic again to generate 87 replicas of him self that ran out from the original in either direction. Now came the guessing game. He wanted to see what she had first as he, or one of the illusionary images darted in to see what she had, a faint of course as another image dashed in from a blind side as the first backed away, that acidic sword coming down at her left arm intending to graze her with it.

Of course, now that the fight is more even did you expect for me to play fair?

"Shadows? Really?" Kite sneered, though in truth she was angry, she'd hoped to hold her own magic in reserve for longer.

The blow never lands, a burst of azure from her hands meeting the image who made the feint, a cascade of disruptive chaos flooding the illusion spell. She's hoping to simply evaporate them wholesale, but even disrupting them will be enough to let her identify the true Gersham and resume her charge. He interrupted her in blood magic on the campus and thought to stop her now with parlour tick illusions?

"i was born in the palace of punishment, prince charming! You'll get nowhere fighting a Hellcat like you would those snivelling curs in the pens!"

She hurled one of her knives, if nothing else it might disrupt his concentration...and well, if he didn't dodge or deflect it, it'd make a right mess of his pretty face before she got there to start stabbing.

Oh, this is nothing really. Prince Charming. He did not get the reference for he had never read the classic fairy tale himself but the title seems fitting enough. Perhaps it made reference to the aphrodisiac that he could use by touch alone. It was a fitting name he though. Perhaps he'd add it to his titles.

The illusions were doing what he had planed for them to do and that was to feel her out. It is a good thing two as she blasts one of the illusions to oblivion and catches another with one of her daggers causing it to burst into shadows. He was still out there among the real images and now he was aware of those gauntlets as each image hurled a sphere of dark black miasma at her. Some splashed against the cover, others had a better angle at her and would have to be countered or evaded in some way. But the illusions would pass harmlessly through her, only the real one would hurt her. Two of the Gersham's rushed in either side of her to split her concentration. Of course only one could hurt her and that would be the real one if he were he was still watching her,studying her for what she could do of course. He was a little cautious after dealing with his first student and getting caught unawares. If he were going to loose this match so be it but he was seeking to rule out carelessness.

The Hellcat had a lot to evade in rapid succession, bot knowing which miasma balls were real or what shades were she had to pick and choose between them. The pillars offered her some cover though and she had to decide which attacks she would risk hitting her and what she would choose to evade or parry. He is analyzing her movements a bit more before seeking to close with her but when he does it will be at his leisure, his pace, and of course he did not intend to play fair either.

The rational option would be to run from the barrage of smoking black orbs hurtling towards her, dodge around pillars, scrape them off on the cover.

But she wanted to get close. The rational option would mean running away. And really, what does rational ever have to do with the dance of blood?

So instead she brought her arms up to protect her face, continuing to charge as the salvo approached her, intending to try to dive under them at the last minute and hope they'd only track well enough to slam into the ground behind her.

A moment's hesitation and confusion as she rolled back to her feet... what happened? She couldn't have dodged them all. Or much more than half, really. Now she did duck behind a pillar, and start running evasively. Until she worked out what he was playing at, she didn't want to tip her own hand terribly much further. Until she found a way to work out which of her attackers was the actual opponent instead of just a shade. Assaulting them until he ran out of images was one idea, but a stupid one, that would just tire her out. It would take a lot longer to tire her here than it had before, but that didn't mean her reserves were infinite.

And there was the fact that there was nothing preventing him from using the same spell again to make chasing down the phantom images a waste of both time and energy. Black miasma splashed against the pillar she sought refugee on vanishing with a wet slapping soud as they struck the sone. The images were all around her, spreading out and assailing her from multiple directions as she wondered what her next move would be she gets pelted by an orb from her left flank but there is no pain, no chilling cold as the attack harmlessly passes through her. The image use a degree of cover too aiming timely shots at her though it appeared that that would do no good in the long run since the attacks didn't hurt to her knowledge so there was no point other then the subterfuge that this image was real or so it tried to relay.

It was about that time she would get her answer. Clipped in the right shoulder that bolt of miasma hurt. The chilling cold as it siphoned heat from her body. When it hit the column in front of her (for the attack came in from behind) it vanished with a sick popping sound.

If pain had been anything to go by then she discovered where the real image was behind her now using the cover of one of the spiked pillars.

He grinned when she appeared to understand though he clearly was not out of tricks with this shell game they were playing as he prepares the incantation for when she draws near, his hand covered in gray light, the other in black as he then conjures up another orb to replace the one that he had just hurled.

Kite made some show of flinchign from the impact, hoping to make him think he'd hurt her more than he actually had. She was good at abosrbing punishment. It was one of the things that had made her dangerous, had made her worth the special attention of NICE Labs to try to bring her to heel.

None of the school's 'clients' had ever left her alone after only one round. She certainly didn't expect that to happen with the one who'd been eagerly boasting about arranging another. The grab in the pens had not been jeuvenility, but confirmation. He was reading her somehow. Predicting her movements. And now there was only one of him along the possible vector of the fireball that hurt. He wanted her to think she'd caught him out. He wanted her to charge him. He was setting a trap. Of course, she was going to trigger it. But now that she knew he was doing it...

The only intent she would consciously have as she charged was 'throw knife.' It was an old, well worn path in her mind. hand slipping one from her harness, a specific one, but entirely automatic. They had given her back -her- knives. She made them all. Her fingers knew their etchings by instinct. She need not think to know she flings one that is hollow, filled with explosive.

So instinct alone could aim the knife at one of the spikes protruding from the pillar he stood behind just below his neck, ensuring a detonation, even if he dodged. And she charged behind her projectile, filled with a thousand thousand possibilities of how she might answer his response, might defang the trap her prepared for her, whatever it might be.

He was not fooled by the rouse though. It was courtesy of his third eye that allowed him to see deceptions whether they were visual false hoods, feints or even bluffs from body language. He did not always know the truth of the matter of course but he could tell what was false thus he realized that his attack was not as potent as she made it out to be

Gersham smirks at the rouse. You will not fool me with such a simple ployOf course she tripped the trap and while he did not know that the blade would exploded on impact that did not change a single thing that he had been planning. He could see the determination on her features and while the dagger exploded to his surprise he was not a first hand spectator to it as shards of the pillar flew loose like thousands of shards of shrapnel several of it embedding into his body but there was no anguished sounds, none of torn flesh being impaled, just a third image braking apart back into the shadow stuff that had formed it.

At the same time another image darted in. With the images all about her there were some that were closer to her position as she moved and this particular one moved in from behind, shifting sands alerting her that there was something there, something that would swing that wavy acidic blade up with a double handed grip on that sword with the intention of grazing her high on the right shoulder but if she turned to face it it would filter backwards as another dashed in from her front, now her rear leaving the gauntlet in a fist between the shoulder blades or chest should she turn to face him.

Gersham could shift his consciousness between the images more or less. Without any outward signs of tampering his body essentially switched places with an image so he could mix up his location better. It was something of his own design since he discovered the limitations of the base spell once a target realized the other images were fake they were free to ignore them but with this little guess it gave him options as well as made such assumptions dangerous at best.