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Me: My strength and my rage

My purpose of going to the Battledome was to try and gain some control of the power I have left, which was basically shattered after my battle with Victor Averdale. That, and to occupy myself so that I don't think too much of everything I have lost. So far, I have attained functional yet inconsistent battle capability. Sometimes I am pale and chilly all over, and unable to move even my fingers. Other times, I feel a pleasurable rush of power coupled with a need to kill something. No, I am not talking about what I feel everytime the hobo does something stupid. It is only during these moments that I am able to bring out Exanimo, my strongest weapon. (Alnette is one of the very few who managed to defeat me even in that state.)

There was that one occasion that I felt so much strength that I actually managed to crash a star into the Battledome, and still had enough left to kick an old man to the floor and stomp him to death. At the time, I don't think anyone who had faced me would have beaten me, much less come out alive. Looking back on it, I am thankful that the Battledome has stabilization and regeneration systems; under normal conditions, I might have killed a whole bunch of people.

Also, I may have anger management problems. Then again, tell me if you can keep your cool when you are constantly dealing with the loss of your beloved and all your strength, as well as with a perpetually inebriated and potentially insane fellow.


Notable opponents/new acquaintances

Miss Alnette, the lovely redhead succubus. The first time I met her, she was beaten out of shape. Since then, she has been a familiar presence in the Battledome. As of now, she is one of my toughest opponents in the Battledome.

Her Dark Excalibur is capable of cutting through my own weapons, even when I am strongest. Not to mention, she can change forms. Nonetheless, she is actually rather friendly, and I kind of feel bad about stabbing her when she tried to hug me after the hobo ticked me off.

Speedy, also known as the garbage angel, hobo, idiot... Gah. I have so many nicknames for him, and he'll probably end up wasting half of this journal space in one form or another. Well, for descriptions, he's blue-skinned, silver-haired, and covered in rags and garbage. He also reeks of alcohol all the time, and is rather childish. He travels with a shabbily-dressed girl named Nancy, who, despite her tender age, is obviously the more intelligent of the two, and is able to cast wind-type spells, making the hobo, instead of just being a blade-crazed berserker, somewhat of a threat. I wonder, though, why she stays with him.

Vivi the jester. Jay, much to my chagrin, is enthralled by her performances, meaning that I am compromised everytime we must battle. Well, she is quite skilled with tricks and battle, and despite the fact that her technique is consistent and predictable, it is always well-executed.

The Doctor. He's a kooky fellow with unusual yet valid ideas. (Pants Ray-Gun, anyone?) He also possesses a substantial amount of physical strength; his punches do hurt. Unfortunately for him, he plays a little too closely by the laws of physics, and the Battledome thus constantly defies him.


Familiars/friends/allies

The first time I met Smok, I was rather startled. Just a few days ago I noticed someone, or something, had bitten huge chunks off a particularly tasty cut of beef I had been saving in my freezer. I knew it was most probably not human. As I investigated my little kitchen, I found the culprit, a ittle dragon with beautiful black scales and red eyes, sleeping in my oven. Well, I can probably buy another steak next week... or two weeks from now. Anyway, Smok, despite his tiny size has proven to be a reliable battle partner. He is excellent at following commands, and breathes a mean jet of black fire. That, and some people find him adorable.

Then, there was Goti. A true fair-weather friend, if I may say; he has that annoying tendency of butting anything that looks like it is losing, myself included. Again, something had been consuming things that belonged to me. Oddly enough, though, this time it was tin cans. All the soup cans and spam tins that I had emptied of their contents were disappearing from their storage area, and this time, the culprit was too sneaky for me to find. I remember interrogating some of my neighbors about it, and they were shaking and stammering as they answered me, even though I wasn't threatening them; after all, I wasn't angry at all, just curious, and I didn't sound angry. (Maybe it was the flame swords?) I only found out about him when one day I entered the Battledome with a goat on my head.

Soon, I found a little girl and her cat sleeping on my doorstep, and I just had to take her in. Her name, as she told me, was Jay, and she had come from some orphanage. In my opinion, Jay is a rather masculine name, and she is a very feminine person. I remember Miss Fion suggested that I name her Suzy, and gave her a package of some rather delicious eggnog. (Now I regret slashing and burning her upon sight, but we were in the Battledome, what was I to do?) On the other hand, the idiot hobo suggested that I call her Pretzels, and I have had to kick him for his persistence. In all, she's a great companion, even though it is difficult to explain things like love and battle and death, things that are too much part of my life, to her.


Breaking the law

The past week had not been a good one for me with regards to law enforcement. My woes started when the wretched garbage angel framed me for arson. His wings caught fire while he was talking to me, and he carelessly discarded them onto some random house. It just so happened that the officers saw my flame swords and automatically assumed it was my fault. The bail I had to pay was an entire week's worth of my playing at the Pink Penguin Pub, and the hobo has no way of paying me back.

Then, the second time, admittedly, was partially--okay, mostly--my fault. I was looking for Nancy, who got lost on the way to the bathrooms, and after hours of fruitless searching, I caught sight of a perverted-looking man in a bus with several children inside. Fearing the worst, I beat the living hell out of him, and the cops caught me. A bus driver. Suuure. (Even though we did find her, I maintain that something just didn't seem right about him.) I managed to escape, but they caught me while I was in the middle of a fight. Nonetheless, the idiot hobo didn't need to exacerbate my woes by telling the cops that I killed the man! (I swear, the worst he suffered was several broken bones and third-degree burns.) Worse, in a misguided attempt to "save" me, he threw my swords at the police car, and I got arrested again. My woes only ended when I got drunk and actually dared to use a Get out of Jail Free card on the guard, who actually recognized it as valid. Unfortunately, I was still intoxicated when I got to the Dome and lost a couple of fights.


Roast potatoes

I have also discovered that I have a talent for making roast potatoes. Either that, or the hobo would gorge on anything that had the slightest resemblance to food. Well, I thought that the hobo was appreciative... until he began blaming me for making him overeat, and then kicking Goti into my stomach while his companion buried me under rubble with a wind-type spell. The nerve! Anyway, I might pick up some new recipes; I do have to cook for a little girl, now, after all, and I don't want her to have to suffer having instant noodles everyday.