The Seventh Match

[realitymods]

Characters: Gene, Diva, Spectators
Location: The Coliseum.
Time: Two days after the last fights.
Summary: The seventh of the death matches.
Warnings: Character death warning.

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[madamemoiselle]

She had spent hours preparing for this event. It wasn't the kind of preparation you would expect, though. But it was perfectly fitting for Diva. Every dress and gown had been inspected until she picked one that she thought was fitting. It was a little bit of Nathan left with her. Even walking into a death match, it was just another role to play, and required an impeccable costume to go with it. So she had chosen one of the costumes for her performance that ended on its premiere. The black and somber dress looked much better without the bat motifs. She had packed a basket full of things, too, just so that she would be ready. So when she left for the arena, she looked dressed for the opera

[theguv]

Gene entered the arena in a flurry of angry motion, quite at odds with Diva's more calculated and calm approach. In his hand he held the mobile Sam had given him. He hadn't figured out how to return Diva's call, and it was pointless to wave about when the broad was right here, but Gene was anything if not theatrical.

"Really, luv?" he called, tossing the sodding device at her feet. It hit her in the ankle, coming to rest next to the basket out of which she was pulling a Party Four. Gene just stared. "And Party Seven, or haven't you been paying attention? The bloody hell you think you're doing?"

[madamemoiselle]

Maybe that was why they were matched up to "fight" each other; both of them had quite the flair for the dramatic. That including Diva pouting and setting her hands on her hips.

"Ow, hey! Watch where you're throwing things! I'm trying to do something nice, and of course all you do is complain," she said sourly. Diva considered throwing the Party Four at Gene, but she figured that would probably hurt more than the cell phone and it was best not to.

Diva set the Party Four on top of the basket and stood, whipping out the tablecloth and setting it in the dirt. She took the tin and faced Gene, frowning even more. "You didn't call me back, so I thought I would at least do something nice. And I know it's Party Seven, but it's really hard to find on short notice! Besides, this should be plenty. Don't be so picky!"

[theguv]

The Guv stared at her, openly incredulous. "Do you have any idea what's going on, or were you too busy picking out your clothes to notice we're in a bloody arena?" Gene was used to obliviousness to an extent, but Diva took it to ridiculous levels. "We aren't exactly out to picnic in the countryside, now are we?"

As for the phone, Gene wasn't about to admit that he didn't understand the call back functions, so he fell back on blaming her. It was always the easiest solution. "And I'd have rung back but someone didn't leave a number." A beat. "And what do you mean, Party Four is plenty?"

[bit_impossible]

He'd been avoiding the matches for some time; call him mad, but watching people he knew and haven't met yet die for no reason other than to satisfy some sick game just wasn't his cup of tea. Not when he knew there was nothing he could do to immediately stop everything. He couldn't stop Oliver from dying, after all. Between his initial conversation with Weber and the letter from Shay, he couldn't help this feeling that things just weren't lining up. There had to be something he'd overlooked so far, but what?

That was how he turned up today, of all days. He didn't know the two combatants, though one instantly set off a latent warning bell in his mind, one that said, "That's a vampire; do your duty, Time Lord," but since he was always the obstinate type when it came to such things, he simply chose to ignore it and continued on his way to the Emperor's box. Neither of them had to die today

[realitymods]

The Doctor sparked an immediate fight between the two hosts.

"No," said the liar. "I will not allow him in just for you to kill him. It would be another pointless death."

"Is that not your speciality?"

"My hands are less stained than your own, my liege."

"With such seas of blood to your name, my liar, I feel there is little distinction to be made. But as you like." The king looked over at the Doctor, callous and cold. It was a bit of a change from the man who had so enjoyed his chocolate confections. "Doctor, my liar would have you stay out of reach for your own safety. One of his little hypocrisies, you understand. It seems that I must defer to his judgement and not allow you in."

[bit_impossible]

He might have allowed himself a little smile for the small amount of discord between the two men just then. Not too bad; he didn't say a single word and his mere presence earned that reaction.

"Oh, that's fine by me," he replied rather flippantly. All the easier to keep his anger in check. "You actually just answered one of my questions and I'm more than happy to remain out here for the time being. All the better to avoid your sword arm, your majesty."

And he had the cheek to bow with a flourish, being mindful to take a step away in case the barrier was brought down.

[realitymods]

The king looked at the Doctor for a moment, as if reading him. A slight smile crossed over his face. "If that's all?"

[seriousmarauder]

Sirius had little patience for picnics, or conversations with kings. Diva was quickly becoming a friend, and Sirius had no intention of letting her die.

Unfortunately, he was essentially helpless -- he had no wand, and wandless magic was difficult enough even at full strength. So he paced outside the forcefield, wondering if there was some other way he could break through it.

"Hurry up, Doctor," he growled, hoping the man outside the Emperor's box was having better luck.