Ask Hubris

[Leon Baudelaire]

Adumar
Cartann City, Uptop

Claus felt his left foot slip then his knee buckle. He'd managed to parry the first attack, but the second had come out of nowhere. His eyes were wide with disbelief, he could not believe the power and speed this twig of a kid was capable of. It was inconceivable! Suddenly, a third hit crashed into his upheld blastsword and sent him squabbling backward tripping. His tangled legs fought one another for control and he toppled over landing on his ass with an audible, "Oof!" A roar of laughter swelled up from the rowdy crowd. The jumbotron lit up in a celebratory fashion as Leon Baudelaire's name scrolled across the screen.

1-0

The referee motioned for Claus to stand, which just so happened to be the exact moment he realized he was still on the ground, and he scrambled up in a panic. He gave his sword a little flourish as if to bolster his own confidence. The Ref called them to position and chopped the air starting the match.

Claus stabbed. The tip of his sword was batted away easily. He swiped and struck empty space, he feinted, slid, stabbed, cut, swiped, but nothing hit. Nothing was even close and the little bastard wasn't even looking at him. Clause followed his opponent's gaze carefully, never taking his full attention from Baudelaire. A man with close-cropped hair and a weathered face stood out immediately. His expression was made of granite. Claus frowned, then as if appearing out of thin air Leon was there teeth bared in a gritting smile as he delivered cross cut. Claus only just managed to get his guard up in time. His weapon was slammed into. The flat of the blade crashed against his shoulder, the impact jarred his grip and sent his hands buzzing.

Baudelaire's shoulder barged into him and he was sent, once again, scuttling backward off balance. However, instead of finishing the bout, his opponent simply flourished his weapon and beckoned Claus to come on. Rage bubbled up out of Claus Shaeider in a way that it never had before. The imperious little smirk tugging at the corners of this pompous little asshole's mouth, the languid stance. Baudelaire looked like he was bored out of his mind and that made Claus fly into a rage. As he charged he saw the smirk grow into a smile and as they collided Claus watched the world invert and felt gravity lose its hold on him as he was flipped out of the ring.

How? How had this happened? How had he been so completely, utterly, and embarrassingly defeated by a man child that was nearly ten ranks below him? His eyes finally began to focus as his concussed head came back online. His eyes met that of the grizzled stoic he could have sworn Leon was looking at earlier. There was something about the worry in the man's face... something guilty. That's when it hit. Leon Baudelaire was a CHEATER! That was the only explanation. The boy was a filthy no-good cheater and that stoney-faced bastard was in on it! As if to celebrate his revelation the crowd roared, finally the recognition he deserved, that is until he realized no one could hear what he was thinking and that his opponent was strutting around the ring taking bows.

"I'll prove you're a cheater you little shit!" he was muttering as the med unit showed up and began attending to him.

Downbelow
Murry's Pub

Leon sipped on his whiskey as his crew around him fawned. Normally, he'd be reveling in their compliments soaking up their adoration like a self-absorbed sponge, but his screaming match with Fearless in the locker room had cheapened his victory. Leon kissed his teeth as he won the newest fake argument upset he'd not made some of the points he'd just discovered, but in the back of his mind, there was a niggling sensation that Fearless was right. He finished his drink with a smack of his lips and let the burn wash away his remaining doubt. He was special. What was there to think about? Not using what made him special was asking him to deny part of himself! If he did that then it could contradict everything the older man had ever taught him!

"Bah!" he said suddenly cutting off whatever platitude was being lobbed in his direction. Suddenly, he didn't quite care for the gaggle of sycophants around him. His anger fueled by the whiskey he'd been drinking was starting to get hot.

"You good Le—"
"I'm fine." he snapped standing from the table.

He slipped his jacket on and made for the door without another word. The others were put off for a moment, but their desire for his attention outweighed any offense they may have felt. Even as he was walking out the door they were still calling out congratulations.

The pub door hissed open and Leon stepped into the Downbelow. The subterranean half of Cartann City, and the longstanding housing of the lower class. He loved it here. No pomp, no fake smiles, no bullshit. In the Downbelow people were just people.

"Ey, fuckoutta the way, kid," barked a delivery guy as he swerved around Leon on his scooter. Baudelaire lifted both hands in apologetic surrender and unsteadily made his way to the rail. he approached he saw a group of troopers file up the stairs. He panicked and slipped into a nearby alley. He watched them head in the opposite direction until they were out of site then rushed for the stairs.

In his haste, Leon missed the two figures lurking to the right of the entrance. As he descended they looked at one another and nodded.

 

[Kaisa Vanloa]

Kaisa had been on the move lately, more so than she'd ever really been in her entire life. There was always somewhere she needed to be, someone she needed to help. The list seemed never ending. It might have been overwhelming for some but Kaisa found it mostly exhilarating. Though, she would definitely need to take a break soon. At least for a little while.

Kaisa's thoughts drifted to where she might go for a little rest and relaxation as she sat in a booth in some place called Murry's Pub. A snifter filled with a dark amber liquid sat mostly full on the table in front of her, Kaisa having ignored her drink for the most part. She'd ordered it out of habit but was far too distracted to pay it much attention.

Distracted mostly by the throngs of fans that surrounded one particular man in the bar. Well, he looked more like a kid to Kaisa, but that was neither here nor there. She watched as Leon pushed through everyone that wanted him to stay and headed outside, and though she wasn't quite sure why, Kaisa felt compelled to follow.

She was on Adumar for a particular reason, very related to the local dueling leagues, and Leon Baudelaire seemed like he could be a good lead in. It totally wasn't because Kaisa had been planet side for three days already and had come up with bupkis. No, definitely not that.

Trailing behind Leon a bit, Kaisa saw the two thugs slip from the alley as the kid passed it and her gut feeling went straight to "well, that's suspicious. that's weird."

That's when she saw one of them pull out a knife and the other one some kind of metal pipe. Well then, things just got interesting. Unwilling to out herself as a Jedi on a world like Adumar, Kaisa instead sprung into action like any responsible onlooker would:

She shouted and then ran straight into the danger like a crazy person.

Watch out! Kaisa yelled at Leon as she ran up behind the thug that had the pipe and punched them straight in the kidneys.

With another kick she'd slam her foot into the side of the guy's knee to topple him, at least for now. Obviously Kaisa wasn't going to kill him, but a trip to the hospital with bruised organs was fine by her.

Attention whipping to Leon, Kaisa hoped the kid's dueling skills didn't fail him. She really needed something to give her that break that she needed for her investigation and Leon, at this point, seemed like the only one she would get.

@Zay

 

[Leon Baudelaire]

“You don’t fully grasp what’s at stake. You can’t just go around flaunting your abilities!” Fearless’ words continued to gnaw at him. What was the point of BEING special, if you weren't allowed to BE special?

Leon’s head was buzzing with drink and exhaustion. His eyes flicked up to the corner mirror as he reached the bottom of the stairs and he caught a glimpse of two sets of heavy boots just behind him. It wasn’t uncommon for people to be right behind you in the subway, it was pretty standard actually, but there was something in the set of the guy’s expression that screamed ill intent.

Leon turned back around and frowned, what was that dude’s problem? Without realizing it his hand had dropped to the hilt of his competition blade. The weapon was little more than a stun stick, but having it was a comfort. To Baudelaire’s dismay, the track landing was empty. If the dudes following him were going to pull something it would be now. The adrenaline dump of impending conflict flooded his veins, but Leon took a breath— “Watch out!”

Instinctively Leon dropped, taking a knee, spinning around, and ripping his competition steel from it’s scabbard. As he came around he saw the red woman cripple the guy with a pipe and land a solid kidney shot on the one holding a knife. It took him a full second to process what was happening. The guy who’d been punched in the kidney staggered away from her dropping his knife. Leon lurched forward awkwardly pressing the tip of his blastsword against the man’s chest and pulling the trigger. The tip popped and the goon was sent backward landing flat on his back.

In a frivolous attempt to save face in front of his savior, Leon flourished his weapon and sheathed it bowing his head graciously as he mumbled, “Thanks.”

Suddenly, his throat was tight, like the start of a sore throat, Leon’s brows knit together as confusion colored his expression. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. When he tried to breathe in nothing happened. His hands shot to his throat as an unseen force threatened to crush his windpipe. His eyes bulged, looking wild as he dropped to his knees. The goon with the busted knee was propped up on his elbow, hand extended and his eyes… his eyes were the color of molten lava.

“Tell Isskai we are coming…”

A monorail blew through the station, the pressure on his throat eased and he managed a gasping breath. As soon as oxygen hit his lungs, fury took over and Leon was on his feet head whipping back and forth looking for the bastard, but the freak was gone. The only thing left was the pipe he’d brought with him.

Leon looked at the red woman and said, “Who the hell is Isskai?”

@Logan