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Balance of Dimensions [RP]

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Desbear:
Stella

"Al...Alright then." Was Stella's only response, before stepping back. She wasn't really sure how to respond to the girl, other than that simple response... ["Well, at least someone here is confident." Looking around, she moved to watch the monitor as a familiar face stepped on stage; albeit from the wrong side of the stage.

GM

As the battle came to an end, a man clad in a black and white suit was standing on stage; awaiting the victor of the match. As Aaron began to walk back stage, however, he followed, microphone in hand as he grabbed Aaron by the hand. "Mister Stillen sir, Mister Stillen, Sir! We still have to do your post match interview!" He called out, trying to bring him back onto the stage.

The-Blades-slave:
Aaron
Aaron obliged the high five and smiled with relief, glad to see a familiar face in the sea of strangers, who he knew thought of him as nothing but competition to be put down. "Work ran late, and the guy who was supposed to take over my shift canceled." He rubbed at the back of his neck?a nervous habit he had developed over the last month or two?and chuckled quietly. "Was about ready to tell my boss to shove it, but I can't really afford to get fired. . . literally."

It wasn't common knowledge to most, but Aaron's sponsorship wasn't exactly a package deal. He spent most of his free time at work, and he reviewed his own games and strategies. Thus far, he had been shouldering the work of an entire team on his own, and in the brief moments that his adrenaline would wear out it would show: baggy eyes, a tired slouch, and a tendency to black out the world around him and just go through the motions.

"I got here though," he laughed it off. "Had to run a mile and dress on the way, and my entrance might not have been the most subtle, but at least I didn't get DQ'd my first match...." Aaron trailed off when he heard someone shouting from back on the stage. A weird looking dude in a black and white suit, who was holding a microphone, was running backstage to chase after him. "Shit, did I mess it up again? Sorry Jess, I gotta go."

He jogged back onto the stage and over to the suit clad interviewer, hoping the strange fellow didn't give himself a heart attack over the interview. "My bad! I got a bit out of it after that last match, must have taken one too many hits to the head!"

Tickles:
Ash went to the bar next store to the stadium. It was a convenient location, though a bit pricey. Nothing he couldn't afford, but even he knew it was highway robbery. All the screens had the tournament on them, and it looked like his latest opponent was getting a post game interview. "Well, could be worse. I might have made a bigger ass of myself."

He went over to the bar and found a seat close to one of the T.Vs. He motioned to the bartender, and got himself a scotch. Whiskey was for when he won, scotch to ease the pain of losing. It wasn't until he nearly finished his drink that Amadeus took a seat beside him. "Barkeep, bring me a soda. No alcohol. I'm the driver for this fool."

"Let me guess, I messed up, I need to report for sparring early tomorrow, and why did I ever decide to help train you in the first place?"

"Ash, I'm not here to talk down on you. Although sparring in the morning is not a bad idea. I see a lot of potential in you, but I feel like you're wasting it. I know you didn't try in that match. You haven't tried for a while. What happened over the season break?"

"A man doesn't get emotional, teach. Let's just say a stupid decision that I'm still sorting out."

He knocked off the rest of his drink and motioned for another. "You're drinking a lot more lately."

Ash downed the scotch in one go. "Is there anything else? I'm not a kid anymore. Haven't been since that bear incident. I became a man that day and haven't looked back. So if I want to enjoy a stiff drink, I have every right to enjoy one or six. Seven is for special occasions, eight is when I get laid."

"Ash, everyone is worried about you."

'Then tell them not to. I'm fine, and have been fine. I'm just celebrating a good match."

"You only drink scotch when you lose. You hate that drink. I can see it on your face. Just don't get too drunk tonight. I'll walk you back when you're ready."

The two sat in silence, figuring there isn't much else to do than watch the rest of the opening day ceremony.

Desbear:
GM

Nodding, the interviewer gave his best smile as he led Aaron back out onto the stage; before waving towards the crowd. "No problem, Mister Aaron Stillen! After all, this is very new to you. In fact, we've heard that you've only been battling for two years! Tell me, how does it feel to be standing up here, with the crowd cheering your name, on the largest stage in the world, having won your first match of the tournament?"

The-Blades-slave:
Aaron took a moment to gather his thoughts before he answered the interviewer. His heart was pounding heart enough that he was scared it was going to burst out of his chest, like some freaky alien in those B-movies he had seen, and staring out at the crowd wasn't doing him any favors. He had been in front of a stadium of people before, but never to this scale and they had never been focused solely on him. "Uh.. It, uh... Yeah... I've only been battling for the last two years, and uh..."

The interviewer laughed, in the fake way a new's reporter does when they tell some shitty joke about the weather, and he patted Aaron on the shoulder. "Take your time, kid, we're in no rush!" He turned toward the audience. "You all aren't going anywhere, are you?" The roar of the crowd was more than enough assurance that they were, in fact, not leaving until they got their monies worth.

Aaron nodded, taking a deep breath and screwing his eyes shut hard enough he saw fuzzy colors, like the snow on a broken television. It helped him reign in his nerves and his thundering heart, and when he opened them again and looked it the crowd, he smiled. "It feels great to be here in general, but it's really cool that I won. Ash gave me a great match!"

"Well what do you know, it looks like we've got ourselves a rare species here: a good sport!" The interviewer was obviously experienced at his job. He pandered to the crowd and hyped up whoever his subject was, and then seamlessly shifted onto the next question before anyone got restless. "What were you thinking when he got up after that attack from the sky? That really looked like it was time for you to meet your maker, from our end."

Aaron flashed back to the moment he had watched the Dovahkiin rise from the rubble of the forest, and the hopelessness that had overwhelmed him as he plummeted from the sky. He had thought that he had messed it up again; he had failed Sun Wukong again, just like he had in his first battle with Jessie and Samus*. "At first? I was... well, I was pretty bummed out. I wasn't sure I could beat him without the Ruyi Jingu Bang or Nimbus Cloud, and I was a lot more hurt than he was."

"But you pulled it out in the end. What gave you the drive to finish the battle?"

The desire to not fail Sun Wukong. To prove that he did belong here, no matter what anyone else thought or said. The need to win and reassure himself that he could do it, and he wasn't in over his head. Aaron wasn't sure how to explain in just a few words everything that had been going through his mind. "I guess I just really wanted to win, and so did Sun Wukong." He smiled and leaned back slightly. "It also helped that we'd been in the same situation a couple times before, and a friend has been helping me out on staying synced."

"It sounds like you've got yourself a good team!" The interviewer glanced at his watch, and obviously he realized the time, because he shifted to the next question. "How do you think you'll do in terms of the rest of the tournament?"

The teenager wasn't really sure how to answer that one. He was still riding on the high from his first win: the thought that he had four or five more battles hadn't occurred to him yet. "I'm not sure. I'm just gonna take it a day a time and see how it all goes, y'know?"

"I certainly do! Don't want to stick your foot in your mouth, eh? Smart move!" He laughed and motioned with his hand as if to wave off his own bad joke. "Well, that's about all the time we have! Anything you want to say to any fans you have out there before you go?"

That was a thought that forced Aaron to stop his current thought process, sending his train of thought flying off of his mental train tracks, where it collided with the side of a mountain and exploded, just as the conductor jumped out the window and kicked a stray tourist in the head. He could have fans? He hadn't even considered that people would look up to him, and wasn't sure how to feel about it in the slightest. His entrance earlier was suddenly much more embarrassing. If he had fans, had any of them stopped being so when they had seen how much of an idiot he was? "Um... I'm the Monkey King?"

God damn it all, Aaron...

The interviewer burst into a bout of laughter at that, pinching the bridge of his nose and holding the mic away so it didn't pick up the noise he was making. "You're really something, kid," he said quietly, and then reigned in his laughter and brought the microphone back up to his mouth. "You heard him, folks! He's the Monkey King! Lets give our primate overlord a round of applause while we get ready  for the next battle!"

The stadium clapped for him (possibly out of pity for how awkward he was), and Aaron was lead off the stage by the interviewer. "Good job out there, and don't worry too much about it. I've seen much more embarrassing things in my time." A smile tugged at the edge of the older man's mouth. "Go ahead and tell the next two contestants to head to the sync station, Monkey King."

Aaron face was stained permanently red from embarrassment. He graciously took the opportunity he had been provided to slip into the lounge where the rest of the battlers were waiting, keeping his head low, and only raised it long enough to loudly say, "Steven and Alexa, they want you to head out to the stage." The latter of the two names - which he had read off of the paper they had been given - seemed somewhat familiar, but he shrugged it off.
*: Aaron had a battle with Jessie the first day he arrived, which he lost because she survived his ult, and he de-synced due to lack of experience.

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