Back to Black

The roar of the crowd felt far away from the shadowed tunnels of The Playground. The ebony beast had been conscious for several hours now, tending to her wounds and her ego. How soon the tides of fortune may fade, leaving humiliation in its wake. After a series of wins, Rue’s confidence had been soaring. She felt unstoppable each time she stepped into the ring. And The Playground had welcomed her. Here, Rue had felt some semblance of acceptance she had never experienced before.

But that, too, was as tenuous as grasping at sand. It can be gone just as swiftly as it arrived. Only one loss away from crumbling into nothingness – no accolades, no cheering crowds. No admiring looks. Only whispers and stares.

It had been Rue’s turn to experience the bitterness of defeat. An unknown fighter ntered the arena to humble the behemoth. And Rue had faltered throughout the match until she failed miserably. Despite a final attack that landed hard, some bitch called Omen had left her bloody and unconscious on the cold stone. It had taken three guards to drag the lifeless form of “Ruin” from the arena to a back area deep in the bowels of the cavernous tunnels, where all the losers were ingloriously thrown – either to regain consciousness and limp away with tail tucked between their legs, or to simply never rise again.

Rue’s humiliation was not at the forefront of her thoughts as her head pounded like a vicious drum within her skull. To her surprise, she had watched a match that morning featuring a woman that was familiar to her. Chances were high that Black had already left The Playground after her own unsuccessful fight. But that wouldn’t stop Rue from looking for her, and she limped through the long hallways that connected the inner chambers of the labyrinthine tunnels. The pale flicker of light shining from brass lanterns danced on the crumbling rocks, hardly providing enough light, so that Rue looked more spectral than wolf as she searched for another shadow in the dark.

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

None of it had gone well for me. I had hand picked the name of The Drone, which I was quite proud of, until each spar I had my fluffy ass handed to me. I wouldn’t let it kill my confidence. I used the failures as fuel. As a foundation, so that when I came back I might come back twice as hard. But alas, I wasn’t on the winning end of any of the fights.

A bear-like, ebony figure lumbered in one of the hallways, pacing. My mind whirred with the possibilities, my short comings, what I could have seen coming and what else to do when I’m out of options. I replayed the fight, and fights before, in my head, every blow and every bite.

Bright eyes were caught by the sight of another beast. The massive, abyssal figure materializing in the pitch. She rivaled the dark backdrop, consuming the space rather than the space consuming her. I paused in my pacing as I beheld her, bloodied, beaten. Familiar.
"Rue?"
Monotone voice asked as it echoed harshly off the walls. Rounded, small ears shifted forward. I ignored the skip in the beating of my heart.

code & art by claerie

”Rue?” Darkness beckoned the battered warrior, drawing the beast’s attention away from her silent hunt, only to find that the one she sought had already been found. Blood-red eyes peered through the shadows to meet emeralds. The black coat for which the other was named was now decorated in fresh wounds from her latest battle in the pit. For a lingering moment, the beaten brawler was silent, expression vague and distant as she appraised the condition of her fellow fighter. Finally, her scarred lips quirked in a sideways expression that was presumably a grin, albeit an awkward one. Similarly awkward words tumbled from her maw in deep baritone vocals: ”Rough day out there, eh?”

Several seconds would tick by before Rue took a tentative step closer to the dark-hued woman. She cleared her throat, speaking in gruff tones. ”I was lookin’ for ya,” she admitted with candor that seemed to surprise even Rue, though the signs were subtle – the quickness in which her scarlet sights shifted away before returning to Black’s bruised features and muscular form. The uncomfortable shifting of enormous paws that carried the fighter’s massive weight. A tattered ear flicked as the warrior wondered what in the fuck she was doing there, and why she had bothered to look for Black in the first place – of course, the ebony beast already knew, but was loathe to admit her curiosity when it came to the other woman.



@Black

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

To name the emotion which fluttered through me at Rue’s casual admittance was beyond me. It stirred something in my belly, so much so I had to refrain from taking a gander at my midsection to see if something else was there besides battle wounds. Alas, seafoam eyes would stay locked in with hellfire rubies. The faintest of half grins upon her face issued another emotion I had trouble naming, and while such hormones were circulating inside of me, I had no idea how to deal with them. They froze me in place, but my eyes couldn’t tear away from her.
"Defeat after defeat,"
I heaved through a sigh. I took them as training lessons, but they still tasted bitter.
"How are you fairing?"
It was then I took a step closer, my eyes finally scouring her figure for gruesome wounds. Did she need medical care? Could I do anything for her?

I blinked, surprised by myself. Is that compassion? These emotions. So raw and foreign. I wanted to explore them, but I was unsure how. Still, this orbital pull I felt toward her was undeniable, and who was I to resist?
"I was waiting for you."
Just as she did, I spoke earnestly. It felt odd spilling my truth, but it was just that - the truth.

code & art by claerie

The Playground had a humbling affect on the fighters who battled there. No one was untouchable in the earthen pit. Each warrior bled the same color, breathed the same acrid air. A wry laugh escaped and Rue shook her head, eyes cast downward. ”’fraid I fucked that’n right up.”

Her gaze lifted to find that Black had taken a step closer, emeralds searching Rue’s battered form. Black didn’t recoil or turn up her snout at the sight of the war scars and fresh battle wounds. Nervousness crept through her like a thief in the night. This sort of scrutiny was foreign. But the warrior didn’t hate it. After silent seconds had passed, Rue caught herself holding her breath, exhaling in a noisy sigh.

”I was waiting for you." A candid statement in return for her own. A scarred brow quirked questioningly as her thoughts rushed in tandem with a racing heart. ”How…” How did she know Rue would find her? Her face grew warmer. The warrior’s mouth felt dry and she cleared her throat, crimson sights straying from the bruised features of her fellow female fighter. ”That so?” The hint of a grin toyed the corner of her lips for a second or two before she willed it away in favor of feigned aloofness. ”Most of ‘em go runnin’ the other way when I show up.” Her focus returned to eye Black with renewed curiosity, allowing her own gaze to wander the smaller form of the other woman, feeling another flush of heat within her. Dark as night. Built to fight. Just like Rue.

Why was this one different from the rest?

After a moment had passed, the dark beast cleared her throat again. Her gruff voice fell to near whisper. ”Wanna get away from the underground fer a bit?” The last bit remained unspoken: with me?

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

Minty eyes remained locked to Rue’s gaze as she spoke. Even when she would avert her eyes, mine would stay trained until they returned. And return they did. It made something ignite inside of me, but it was unfamiliar, not even a name for it. Yet there it was. Sharp and stinging, like my heart couldn’t steady itself. I can’t say I liked it too much, causing my brows to furrow and ears to swivel, but not pin. Rue cleared her throat.
"I like it."
Put simply, but not lightly. It was my way of saying I thought it was beautiful. The battle wounds, old and new. It all made sense to me, whereas politics drive me inside. But the push and pull of war was absolute. There was no lying, only bare, raw truths.
"Where do you want to go?"
I asked, perhaps too brazenly, but I was feeling something else. Nervous? I didn’t understand it. So I froze it up, expression repainting itself in a signature stoicism. But the small wag of my tail and perk of my ears should attest for the way it excited me to go somewhere with her. So I waited for her to lead the way.

I find I would go anywhere with her.

code & art by claerie

Black was a woman of few words, wearing a mask of stoicism that was not readily discernible — an enigma dressed in perfect darkness. Rue wanted to understand, to know how the other thought, what made her tick. The other woman’s response was just another example of her mystery: ”I like it." Scarred brows quirked, confusion scribbled across a disfigured visage. She spoke with the tongue of a true poetess: ”Uh…”

How? How does she look and see anything but a hideous monster?

Rue was pleased when her fellow brawler agreed to leave the Playground behind, trying to hide it… but there were subtle hints that Black felt similarly, even Rue noticed. ”Up.” Then, the distant sounds of cheers caused a grimace on marred features. That was what came naturally to Rue — violence and bloodshed — a means of survival, just as it had been since she was a kid. And she was good at it. Or at least, Ruin had believed herself to be a champion. And she was… until she wasn’t. Where she failed, others would succeed. There would always be someone new waiting to take the place of the fallen. She was replaceable here as everywhere else.

But maybe not to everyone…

Rue knew the underground labyrinth like the back of her paw, limping as she lead the way toward the corridor that led away from this place of depravity and back into the order and restraint of the world above ground. After a silent beat, the ebony beast mused aloud in her husky voice: ”’tween you ‘n me, sometimes… I dunno why I wanna keep comin’ back ta this place.” The dark brute peered at the smaller woman from the corner of crimson eyes, attempting subtlety despite her blossoming fascination. ”So, um… What d’ya do when ya ain’t fightin’ in the pit?”

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck