Andrea Maria Nash (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
masterofgunfu) wrote2014-07-25 08:26 am
masterofgunfu) wrote2014-07-25 08:26 am
Entry tags:
Thursday morning - At the Arena
The next morning I stood outside what had once been called the Cooler, Atlanta's ice skating rink. It was brick and oval in shape and rose at least four stories, stretching into the morning sky for what seemed like forever. Buildings this size were rare in Atlanta. Magic had a way of eating and collapsing anything past two stories.
A hundred yards from the Arena was a wooden tower and perched atop was a set of mounted machine guns and cheiroballistra. Tall enough to cover nearly the whole of the parking lot and close enough to cover the roof of the Arena. I also spied the distinctive red and black uniforms of the Red Guard. In the highly competitive field of mercenary work, there were few corporations and among them, the Red Guard were the best. From every report I've read and every encounter I've had with them, they've earned their pay and reputation. Looks like blood sport paid well though, as the Red Guard charged a premium.
OK, enough rumination. I stepped over a two-foot wide, fluorescent while line (obviously marking where the Red Guard's responsibility began and ended) and headed for the service entrance. I doubted the fighters were expected to enter through the front doors.
I quickly found the check in and gave my name and team to the woman working the checkin desk; Red Guard, again, and someone high in the chain of command, if I didn't miss my guess.
"'The Fools'? Is that a description of your team's intelligence or your need to amuse?" She asked me with a completely blank face.
I smiled, completely friendly-like. "No clue. I wasn't part of that decision."
"Fair enough. Go through those doors and I'll have someone meet you to escort you to your team's rooms," She said, eyeing my three duffles worth of weapons. "And just to be clear, there is no fighting outside of the sand. During a match, you guys can try and kill each other all you want. Outside of one, stay out of each other's way. That clear?"
"Crystal."
A hundred yards from the Arena was a wooden tower and perched atop was a set of mounted machine guns and cheiroballistra. Tall enough to cover nearly the whole of the parking lot and close enough to cover the roof of the Arena. I also spied the distinctive red and black uniforms of the Red Guard. In the highly competitive field of mercenary work, there were few corporations and among them, the Red Guard were the best. From every report I've read and every encounter I've had with them, they've earned their pay and reputation. Looks like blood sport paid well though, as the Red Guard charged a premium.
OK, enough rumination. I stepped over a two-foot wide, fluorescent while line (obviously marking where the Red Guard's responsibility began and ended) and headed for the service entrance. I doubted the fighters were expected to enter through the front doors.
I quickly found the check in and gave my name and team to the woman working the checkin desk; Red Guard, again, and someone high in the chain of command, if I didn't miss my guess.
"'The Fools'? Is that a description of your team's intelligence or your need to amuse?" She asked me with a completely blank face.
I smiled, completely friendly-like. "No clue. I wasn't part of that decision."
"Fair enough. Go through those doors and I'll have someone meet you to escort you to your team's rooms," She said, eyeing my three duffles worth of weapons. "And just to be clear, there is no fighting outside of the sand. During a match, you guys can try and kill each other all you want. Outside of one, stay out of each other's way. That clear?"
"Crystal."
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"Sling?!?" I yelled in outrage when Raphael explained the team roles to me. The others had come in more or less altogether; Raphael, Derek, Doolittle, Jim, and some kid named Dali. Kate walked in just as I was screaming, so that left just one missing member, since each team had to have seven fighters; Doolittle was our doctor and wouldn't be fighting. The roles were easy to understand and given cute little names, which someone really wanted to all start with S for some reason: Stratego, Stone, Sling, Swordmaster, Shield, Shiv, and Spell.
Jim was Stratego, which as a cat, fit him perfectly. I was Sling, still a stupid ass name. Kate was Swordmaster, Derek was Shield (a defensive fighter), Raphael was Shiv, and Dali was Spell. All that was missing at this point was our Stone, the heavy fighter.
"Sling?" I repeated, just to make sure my outrage was clear, as I started loading magazines. I stood before a table I had claimed and had my babies all laid out; my SIG-saurs, a couple of Colts, a Beretta, a few Smith & Wesson, a pair of tactical crossbows, and plenty more besides.
"It's just a figure of speech," Raphael said, trying to mollify me.
I looked at Kate and grinned evilly. "You know what they can do with their sling? They can stick up their asses!"
"Well, technically it's more of a ranged weapon, Andrea…" Kate said with a smirk. I had walked right into that one.
"Screw you!" I said trying not to smirk myself. "I'm not going out there with a little rag and a pebble."
Kate just shock her head laughing, while Raphael looked spooked. Silly boy, don't you recognize banter? Kate headed over to the bunks where Doolittle was hovering over Derek, who was laying down reading a book. They chatted for a bit before Kate grabbed a pillow and blanket and walked back out to the common area, just in time for Derek to raise his head and say, "Incoming. Several people."
The Red Guard who checked me in, Rene was her name, as I was to find out, appeared at the door. "Your owner sends his apologies. It seems your original Stone won't be joining you, but Durand sent in a substitute." She stepped aside. "In you go."
A familiar figure blocked the doorway. Everyone froze.
"Play nice," Rene said and departed.
Silence filled the room. Not even a breath was to be heard.
"All right," Curran said. "Let's talk."
He took Raphael by his arm, dragging him off the bench like he was a day-old pup. He swiped Dali with his other hand, brought them both into the bedroom with the other members of the Pack, and shut the doors behind him.
I picked up my two SIG-saurers, loaded them with two fresh magazines, walked around the table, and sat facing the closed door with my guns on either side of me.
"If he injures Raphael, I'm going to shot him. Just letting you know," I told Kate.
"You changed your mind about Raphael?"
"I'm still deciding," I said without turning my head. "And I'm not going to let the Beast Lord take it from me."
"Aim for the nuts," Kate advised before standing up and leaving.
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