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"Well in that case, couldn't you have just -- " Crispin was cut off when suddenly the sky was flipping above him, and landed flat on his back with an 'oomph', the air completely knocked from his lungs.

" -- ow," he finished, rolling to his side in the dirt. Whoever this was, he was definitely asking for it. Crispin was starting to get a bit mad that this guy insisted on beating the crap out of him when they'd hardly met!

Nevermind that was what the term 'battle' meant.

"Get away from me!" he smacked at the man's ankle, as though trying to pathetically push him away.

[[ Entering ]]

Harland Leander Belle entered the fight expecting nothing short of his own demise. He was not prepared for it, not by a long shot; he'd learned that earlier, when he had attempted to swear fealty to the Violet Kingdom and when faced with a daunting decision he had changed his mind.

Why would he willingly surrender himself to death? He liked being alive to gather information. And, for the moment, that was all he did: he surveyed the battlefield, watching both for potential targets as well as potential dangers.

The field was fraught with both. He braced himself, automatically, as he scanned the opponents.

One by one the imposters were pushing him back. He felt weak, weaker than he had ever been in all the time he could remember. But he couldn't just lay down and die. They would not take what remained of his kingdom from him so easily, nor the title that he sought - he would be The True King. One fell to his soldiers, but three remained, still going strong. He lashed out. "I grow tired of this. Die already."

"Thackery," the Shadow replied dryly without even passing him a glance. He recognized that too-happy singsong of a voice. The Black King didn't terribly mind his presence - it wasn't as if they would, or could, bother to attack each other. That was what their pawns were for. He gestured at the group of fake Shadows with his blade in between slashes. "Well. It wouldn't happen to involve encountering a few traitors in your midst, would it?"

Merope's hit knocked the black metal crown to the ground. The sword hung in the air as Aymet paused to look down at it and almost seemed - shocked? Confused? He bent down to pick up the crown, shifting it from hand to hand as if in thought. "I can remember now... I know who I am--!"

And proceeded to pop it right back on his head with a sidelong grin as he watched the traitor dissipate. "Oh, that's right! I'm the King."

Only to find himself forcibly yanked aside by a silvery garbed hand, belonging to a familiar but silvery King.

"Says the one who practically tore a hole in mine," he sighed. Aymet recognized the Red King from recently, though she seemed to have changed sides since the last time they'd met. He wondered, for a moment, if it had to do with... but no. This was definitely the same King he had been fighting against for what seemed like forever. This was just not his day. "Xiu, my dear, cheating won't get you anywhere in this tournament."

"I know only what we all do," he spat, as if it were the most ignorant question he'd ever heard. "The Voice gave us our power, the one who will crown the True King at the end of this battle."

His staff hummed in his hands softly as Merope landed, spinning and gripping it tightly as he faced the King again. It was then that he witnessed Night fall to the Lovers. The King moved. It wasn't to attack, but instead to retrieve something. The crown! He did it! He managed to knock it off.

Merope's victory was short-lived, however. He felt something pulling at him. It was becoming darker. No, wait -- the light on his staff was fading. His entire staff was fading, becoming translucent as the full weight of Marzena's blessing began to pull him down.

He was speechless as the king grinned at him and spoke. His last thought was that it was all for nothing.







(( EXIT ))

"NO!" Amrita shrieked as both Night and Merope fell, her assault on Aymet pausing for only a moment to glare at the two responsible. It crossed her mind to make them pay, and she almost did turn to sink her claws into either of the other ghouls, but she held her resolve. This fake Aymet had to be getting close now; it felt like she had been attacking him for days.

The arrival of the Silver and Violet Kings were worrysome, but so far they seemed to leave her alone, which was good. She had been about to attack again when Merope interferred, which was surpising enough to make her pause, but even moreso was Aymet's reaction to his crown falling.

The confusion, the shock, it was almost like...like the real Aymet was back. Maybe Merope was right? Maybe it was all just... The illusion shattered as the crown returned and that grin; he was tricking them.

"...You a**!" Amrita slapped the would-be King as hard as she could, just for messing with her feelings.

Everything was chaos. There were rules, there were requirements, but the battle itself seemed eternal. The True King, chosen one of the seven. Yet, in this war-ravaged battlefield, who exactly had even fallen. Was the tournament finally drawing to a close?

And then at last, the presence. The Voice.

"I am the Voice." Silence, strained and tenuous. For a second, it felt like even the Voice was fading away. ' I call upon all the Kings and all their Kingdoms. The time of the True King is near. Fight - glory - and - also - know - " The words were cutting in and out.

And at last, unable to maintain the illusion, the horizon, already black, cracked, broken, fell entirely apart.

Because just standing around and chatting to a fellow King in combat was not absurd enough, Thackery found it much more comfortable to sit. So he did as much, propping his chin up in his hands as he watched Aymet field each of the attacks.

These people were terribly rude.

He looked almost bored with this already, until the Shadow's response sunk in.

"Woooah, how did you guess?" Had word spread already? Oh, it warmed his heart to hear how popular the events of daily life in his kingdom could be. It surely had everything to do with how gifted each of his subjects was. He supposed he'd want to talk about a kingdom full of people who tried half as hard as his subjects did.

If his interest were not piqued before, it most definitely was when he saw the Black Crown land on the ground nearby. He'd completely underestimated the level of rude involved here. Concerned that these terrible manners might spread like a sickness to his own subjects, he opened his mouth to speak.

Instead came obnoxious laughter; apparently, he'd enjoyed Aymet's joke.

[I'm heading to bed - I'll tag in the morning, but won't be responding to any attacks tonight.]