JadedStrayHyena

Angelique just can't enjoy herself in Crossroads; her insecurities feel like they are being constantly prodded. Between a mysterious and sharply dressed admirer and a slick-talking and nosy devil writer, the blonde only feels more uneasy and down on herself. But it seems her first round opponent will manage to make her feel even worse. While both are quiet young women with quite sharp kicks, Angelique feels inferior in skills and appearance to her opponent, the Devil Blooded, Piano. Does Angelique have it in her to win this on her own like she desires? Or will her doubts and anxieties be proven right in the end? Link to entry in description. Preview: Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden kick towards her face that she just managed to sidestep. Angelique wasn’t underestimating Piano in the slightest, but that speed still wasn’t something she was ready for. Angelique responded with a kick of her own that was pretty close to Piano’s but with less of a run-up. Piano dodged this

This isn't her first rodeo...and she wonders if they knew that before that envelope came her way... It dredges up trauma...yet tempting her regardless. Who sent it? Why her? And does she even want the prize that glitters in that distant land? Link to story in description below. Preview: What is the crueler fate? To be continually subjected to torment and pain by outside forces? Or subjecting oneself to the same? Inside a sparsely lit room sat a young woman. She was trying to make herself as blind to all emotion and thought as she currently was as far as most of the details in it. She sat in the middle of the room - across from her plush bed and away from the door and the small desk and office chair in the room. The window was as shut as her mind. She would have to address it all eventually - unfortunately as she would put it - but for now, she sat cross-legged in that spot with her focus solely on three bubbles around her head. Colored black and gray, the bubbles were barely

[Dorian LP: 1200 Axehead LP: 3100] Dorian, despite losing the duel by more than a thousand points, seemed to be oddly enjoying himself now. Which made Axehead, the self-proclaimed undefeated duelist, nervous. “First, I summon Thieving Wererat,” said Dorian as a humanoid rat with messy fur and just a pair of shorts on it burst through its card and onto the field. [Thieving Wererat: ATK 900 DEF 1200] “Now I play Instant Replay Camera and attach it to Giant Rat. You’re going to hate this – and not just because it give an extra bit of power to my Rat~” [Giant Rat: 1400 --> 1700 DEF 1450 --> 1750] A large silver and metallic news-style camera was over his Giant Rat’s shoulder. “So that’s supposed to help you get back the lead?” scoffed Axehead. “In a way,” said Dorian. “Now let me finish my turn. I activate one of the special abilities of Thieving Wererat. Now in exchange for losing any chance to attack, it can steal an active magic or trap card on your field, re-targeting its effect.

Note: Some of these cards in this pseudo-Yugioh-setup are not real Yugioh cards. They are made-up to fit the themes of the characters portrayed when they aren’t enough or aren’t any cards that fit their theme that actually exist. I’m just spoofing the game and shows from the seasons I still watched it. “No thanks, I don’t want to duel. If you want to trade, I have some you might want.” Dueling hit the world like a wave and Dorian felt like the odd person out. Yes, he knew the game and wasn't terrible at it, but for reasons others didn’t know, he was still withdrawn, rarely dueling others and never looking incredibly happy when he did. This made him a pariah among his co-workers – even more than his pale skin and red eyes - and Dorian didn’t seem to care. If it took not liking one game to disqualify one from friendship regardless of reasons, friendship was overrated. So he didn’t get a ton of help day to day. He didn’t get much levity in his hectic days unless he bothered to duel

They approached in near silence – the only sound from them was the crunching of grass under their boots and the wind whistling a melody. A gas mask with a wide reflective visor was on their face and wild silver hair trailed behind. Everything else visible on their body was black or dark gray. The masked figure approached the grand city of Armonia and could hear the bustle a mile or two off. The great metronome was a mountain and the town itself like fluffy clouds obscuring the base. This isn’t what the letter in their hand implied they would see - it said Armonia was in danger, but offered no details. Some danger…or are they just keeping their citizens in the dark? Of course any place associated with the old hag would do something like that… They walked past what could be described as farmland and little houses doting the meadow. One was right in sight, but something about it made it seem different than the others in the distance. As she walked up to it, it became more obvious.