as written by Script, Krysis, Emperor Jester and Ronin
Celeste had to be restrained to her seat by Papa Hogan's heavy hand, almost bouncing out of it as she sympathetically 'fought' along side Aaro. She gave a wail of despair when he was knocked down, but then gasped in concern when he tapped out instead of waiting for the count down.
Inarin cringed as the last couple of blows landed on Aaro - they'd looked like they'd hurt. A lot. He was relieved when Aaro tapped out - in no small part due to the fact that he doubted that Izaic would have shown him any mercy if he'd tried to continue the fight.
Papa Hogan was concerned as well, but more because he didn't like that the taller boy had apparently won through sheer power and not skill. It was, in his view, a shameful display of skill falling before arrogance. "It's alright, daughter mine. He isn't too badly hurt. Why don't you and young Mr. Inarin go down and see this Aaro boy, hmmm?"
At this suggestion, Inarin glanced across to Celeste to gauge her reaction before he said anything.
Celeste looked back at Inarin to gauge his reaction too, but then she smiled and shrugged, "I'm sure Aaro would appreciate that. And even though Izaic is himself, we Should congradulate the winner, right? He is our classmate, technically."
Papa Hogan gave an approving nod, glad that one of his younger children understood the concept of fair play at least. He seemed content to stay where he was though, since his foot would make him slow on the steps and the teens would be probably with their friend before he could get out of the aisle. And he wanted to see the next match too, even though Celeste didn't seem to be aware of it at all.
Inarin nodded, smiling. "Yeah, let's go down," he agreed, rising from his seat.
"I'll see you back here, then," Florianne said, "or if you end up going elsewhere, just send me a text to let me know."
"Okay!" Inarin nodded to his aunt, before starting down the steps towards the ring. As he and Celeste were working their way over, he glanced across at the slightly older girl. "Ah... Celeste?"
She gave Inarin a curious look, offering a hand to help steady the slight-figured boy, "Yes?"
"I- I just wanted to say thank you. F- for the flowers. It was... it was really nice to know you guys were thinking of me." Inarin's words were slightly muffled by his scarf as he looked down at his feet.
Celeste blushed, hiding behind her hair as she muttered, "Wasn't just me, but you're welcome. It's good to have you back, In. We need you, you know. This Caeruleum isn't acting rationally, and I am lost trying to figure out his next move."
She looked at Inarin then, a little moisture gathered around her eyes, "I should have guessed he'd go after our families. It's my fault for not being smart enough. I failed you and I can never-- There isn't any way to fix it."
Inarin looked up at Celeste, startled. "I- It's not your fault, Celeste. You didn't fail me, that's- you shouldn't think that." His voice held a surprising amount of conviction, by contrast to his previous mumbling. "We... didn't know. It's... it's not anyone's fault."
The conviction had faded by the time he spoke those last few words. He knew he had to try and believe it, but... It was hard.
Celeste gave a hard smile as she steered them towards Izaic's area, wanting to get the congradulating of the bully over with quickly. She also suspected that Aaro would be clingy, so leaving the loosing party would be harder than getting away from the winner. "Don't kid yourself, In. It wasn't an act of nature or fate, or God. The Caer is most to blame, but others failed to stop it. We can't change things or improve if we don't accept our mistakes, right?"
"I... I knew that you and I, Aaro, Jimmy and Rei had all met that creature. Malcolm, at the rave. Just didn't occur to me that our families would be his target instead of ourselves. My family doesn't take the warning seriously, and I haven't had a chance to talk to Jimmy or Aaro about it yet." She had a dark look as she added, "Apparently, I am an alarmist."
Inarin's eyes returned to the floor as Celeste spoke. He hadn't a clue how to reply with anything that didn't ring empty in his head, and so he just quietly nodded as they drew closer to where Izaic had left the ring.
Izaic would be nearby, easily visible in the crowd. He'd still be rubbing the side of his head. Apparently the blow had done more than the larger male had let on. Aside from his gloves, which were now strung together and slung over his shoulders along with a towel, he still looked as he had in the ring.
He didn't seem to notice them approaching, focusing on his injury and the constantly depleting water bottle in his hands. Izaic had put all of himself into the fight. The same as every fight. Holding back was impossible, but he couldn't help noticing the looks he was being given. Some were even saying that his blow to the collarbone had been dirty, or uncalled for. Let them talk. Still took the 'W'.
Celeste tugged Inarin after her, through the crowd, though she had only a cool smile for Izaic. Stopping nearby, she glanced at the smaller boy to make sure he was okay, and ran one hand over her cold cheek to make sure her emotional outburst earlier hadn't left more evidence than the weather could account for. The words tasted rancid in her mouth, but she made herself say, "Congratulations on your win, Izaic."
By the time the pair had reached Izaic, Inarin had practically disappeared behind his scarf. Despite the moment of kindness that the older boy had shown him the previous week, he still couldn't help but shrink nervously away from the prospect of interacting with him. And so after Celeste spoke, all Inarin produced was a nod paired with a muffled hum of agreement, barely maintaining eye contact with Izaic for longer than a second before meekly averting his gaze.
"Nice of you to say so. I thought I did well enough. The cheers seemed to be on my side anyway, once I'd gotten gotten Aaro onto the mat." Inarin. Izaic wantedto ask him how he was doing. Ask him if he needed anything. Instead, the only thing that found its way to his tongue was "How are those weights treating you? You wearing them, or did you decide they weren't worth it?"
Celeste grimaced, remembering how her father had deafened everyone within three rows when he cheered for Izaic. That had been well before mat-time. She almost retorted before something stopped her and she glanced from Izaic to Inarin and back again, ready to defend or protect the smaller male if needed. Her natural reaction was not needed though and her expression was bemusement as she stepped out of the way to just listen to the pair. Was the bully being... nice? Kinda?
"I- I am," Inarin replied hastily, looking up from his contemplation of the bottom of his empty cup, "Th-they're fine, I think?" In truth, he had no idea whether the weights were helping. They were noticeable, certainly. But did that mean they were working? He supposed they were only supposed to be a part of the process. Whatever that process turned out to be.
"Good. Glad to see you didn't go back on your word. It may not seem like it now, but those are part of conditioning. Your body will get used to them over time, and then, without you noticing, your preak will slowly get higher, as will your physical durability." A scrath to his scruffy chin as he'd continue, his eyes darting back and forth between the two. "Heard you cheering for Aaro. Your voice is very distinct, Celeste. He got me good a few times, but...as you saw."
He'd jerk his thumb over his shoulder before leering back, a devilish grin on his chiseled features. "It'll be like that with you on the sparring tourney later in the week. Hope you're ready." His tone was almost cheerful, playful. Now that he was in some sort of battleground, as jolly and as "for fun" as it could get, it seemed like Izaic was dropping a bunch of his barriers.
"I have a new toy that I am just as eager to try out on you. Hope you're ready to taste the mat yourself." Celeste answered, finding a puzzled smile creeping up on her features. She shifted her weight uncomfortablly then, finding that she was actually excited at the idea of being able to use her full potential on a fellow proselyte. Usually she found herself holding back, at least a little, in an effort not to actually injure the people she sparred with. With Izaic... she would feel no such restraint.
She folded her arms over her breasts quickly and gave a cough as she turned her attention on Inarin. "Weights?"
Inarin flushed. "Ah... yeah, Iza lent me some... some weights to wear, to help me... to help build up strength." He looked up at Celeste over the top of his cup, unsure what to expect of her reaction.
"Oh." Celeste gave another puzzled smile before something clicked in her head and the smile became stunned as she looked back and forth between the two males. Well. That put a different complexion on things. She squirmed in place again and coughed before saying, in a slightly slightly hoarse voice, "Well, I'm sure that is helping. Umm. If you two will excuse me, I'll go find out how Aaro is doing?"
She'd hesitate before going though, not sure if Inarin Wanted to have a private conversation with Izaic.
"Oh! I'll..." Inarin hesitated, glancing from Celeste across to Izaic uncertainly. "I- I guess I'll see you around, Iza?" The younger proselyte wasn't quite sure what to expect if he stayed behind, but didn't imagine that Izaic would particularly appreciate him lingering without cause. He'd only agreed to help him train, after all, so Inarin was still a little wary of the older boy's attitude returning to its norm outside of that context.
"Works for me. If I see you slacking off, or without the weights on now though, I'm going to put you through a wall. Got it?" It wasn't so much a threat as it was a joke, but Izaic's humor, being as dry as it was, made it hard to tell the difference. "And yeah, go on. I'll see you around the grounds. Hope you come out to the wrestling tourney." The much larger male would cross his arms before turning his back, an over the shoulder finger wave indicating he was heading out himself.
Celeste would link her arm with Inarin's as soon as they were out of earshot of the large male, leaning in to whisper against his fuzzy earmuff, "When did This happen? Izaic became Iza and you are letting him coach you? Inarin, I'm so happy for you!"
Inarin's cheeks grew hot. "I- I don't know, exactly..." he mumbled, "but on the day ... last wednesday, after ... I found out what had happened, and I was getting things from my room, I ran into him in the corridor. And ... well, he was kind to me. And I- I dunno why he offered to train me, but ... he did, and I'm still not sure if he thinks any better of me, but... it's a start?" He shrugged, shaking his head. There'd been other confusing elements to the exchange, but he wasn't about to mention that.
"Wow. Who would have thought it? Inarin, Izaic Likes you. He gave you something. Something other than bruises, that is." Celeste pointed out grinning a bit and hugging Inarin's arm tightly as they strolled towards where Aaro had ended up after the fight.
"I dunno if I'd go that far..." Inarin shrugged again, before smiling faintly, "but hey... tolerates is a step up, right?" he laughed nervously.
Aaro by then had left the ring. His shirt was back on and he rubbed the sweat off the back of his head with a towel. He was rolling his other shoulder forward, wincing a bit. Bruises were already forming on his jaw.
"Welp. That could have gone better." He grinned at Celeste and Inarin. "Good fight, though. I knicked him a few times." A jolt of pain went up his arm. "Got me pretty good himself, though. Hope this won't keep me from competing in some of the other tourneys..."
Celeste finally let go of Inarin and stepped towards Aaro, letting the younger male's assessment stand for the moment. She'd lay one warm hand on Aaro's less injured shoulder as she looked at his back, to keep him from turning to follow her. "Yeah, but it looks like you are going to need a hot shower before you stiffen up in this cold air. I can't believe they counted Izaic in the younger tournament like this. He's clearly an adult."
"Y-you should probably find an ice pack, or something, before you shower. F-for your shoulder, I mean," Inarin noted from behind his scarf. "It'll make it hurt less."
"I'll ice it till I get it looked at," Aaro nodded, "and don't worry about it Celeste. He's only a few years older. Doesn't have THAT much of a lead on me." He grinned. "I heard you heckling, though. I appreciate the support, but I think your dad has you beat in a yelling contest."
He straightened himself up. "You guys gonna watch the other fights? I'm gonna get somethign to eat at one of the stands. You can join me if you're hungry." He stuffed his tongue in his cheek. "Hey... have you guys seen Jimmy by chance? I've been meaning to talk to him one on one. Haven't since..." He cleared his throat. "...ah. Y'know. The rave."
After Rei had gone off with a stranger, Aurelion had told the masters of their adventure a couple weeks ago. While no one had gotten in any serious trouble (except Rei, who was in the custody of the Inquisition) they had all been punished one way or another. For Aaro, who already had a high demerit count, it had been a bit harsher. He was on the festival clean-up duty that very night, in fact.
"I've seen him in class, of course," Aaro continued, "but we haven't really talked about things. Been meaning to catch up with him."
"He vanished the day after and I heard later, from another source, Jimmy went off to visit those twins. The ones we met at the rave." At the mention of the twins, Inarin immediately burrowed further into his scarf with embarrassment. "Since then, I haven't been able to catch him alone either." Celeste frowned in thought, absently rubbing Aaro's shoulder in an effort to help him not get too sore to compete later.
"I... I talked to him in the library on the day after," Inarin chimed in hesitantly. "H-he seemed okay. We didn't ... talk for that long, but as far as I could tell he was alright."
"I put this in my report, but it didn't get shared yet. Malcolm, the guy in white? He... I think he is claiming to be a Caeruleum vampire. He is the one that killed those proselytes in the Square. After what happened to Inarin's family-- Aaro, do you have any family in the city?" She gave him a worried look then, nervous about sharing details of an investigation that was technically still on-going.
"Woah. Woahwoahwoah." Aaro gave Celeste a look halfway between confused and suspicious. His friend had just told him that the nice man they'd met at a rave two weeks ago was related to the boogeyman. "Caeruleum? Are you serious, Cel? There's got to be some kind of mistake." Rumors had been floating about concerning Nox and his identity, but the church was, ultimately, the only organization that had intimate knowledge of the killings. Most proselytes had just thought the murders to be a horrible act committed by a nefarious monster. A werewolf, probably. Many in the academy had attended the funerals.
He shifted a bit uncomfortably at the mention of what happened to Inarin's family. He hadn't seen his friend since ... well, since before nearly all of his immediate family had been murdered in their home. He'd been wondering how to broach the subject to see if Inarin was alright, but decided against pursuing it now. Not the right time.
"Alright. Well. Geez." He ran a hand through his hair. "No, I don't have any family I know of. Besides the Order, of course. I just..." He breathed deeply. "Look, I'm gonna go get a sweetroll. This is a lot to digest, and I always digest things better when I'm actually digesting something."
"It's not a mistake," Inarin said quietly. "Leon ... t-told me what some of our staff said. The... the thing that... That..." He trailed off, clenching his gloved fists. "He introduced himself as Malcolm. Malcolm Sucraix."
Celeste narrowed her eyes anrgily at Aaro when he not only openly doubted her word, but called her 'Cel' again. She remembered quite clearly telling him not to before. Though the circumstances of that telling made her cheeks heat with remembering it and so he didn't get punched in his exposed ribs for the liberty this time. Aaro would be suffering enough as it was.
"The funnel cakes are pretty good this year. Last year they were too soggy." She offered, willing to let the auburn haired boy get away with his transgressions. And changing the subject would likely be easier on Inarin too.
Malcolm Sucraix. Aaro would remember the name, for what good it was worth. If he was truly the culprit behind the Square murders and the Nuvellon massacre, then he needed to be stopped.
"Leon's on the job..." Aaro said almost to himself, "...yeah." His face brightened. "Leon's on it. He's one of the best knights in the Order. This whole thing will wrap up in no time."
He looked at Celeste, a hungry gleam in his eye at the mention of the cakes. "Soggy or no, with the whip and the side of cream... Ugnn." He rubbed his hands together. "I'm going. You guys coming or you watching?"
Inarin allowed the subject to change away without further comment, trying to ignore the knot of worry in his stomach. Aaro was right. Leon would ... Leon would be fine, at any rate. He took a deep breath, turning his attention back to the conversation. "I- yeah! I'll go with you. I should probably get s-something to eat, anyway."
"I need to go back to my father. Shall I let your Aunt know where you went, Inarin? If she is still in the stands?" Celeste offered, stepping back from the other two and giving them a helpful smile.
"Y-yeah, thanks, Celeste. I'll probably see you later." Inarin smiled to her, before turning back to Aaro.
"Come on In," Aaro swiped his jacket off a nearby chair, "there's hot sweetrolls with our names on them!" He pointed forward. "To glory!"