Avatar combat Arena

I must have been only six. The age where it's easy to forget everything that is wrong and only see the good around you. The naive age I like to call it. I remember the feeling of absolute excitement, the blood flowing through me, energy bursting from me. My father was on TV. Not just any old TV show, oh no, not my Dad.

He was a competitor in the years annual Avatar Combat Arena and I'd never been more excited or proud to be his son. Me and my Granddad was watching it all, him laid back into the couch grinning the sly grin of his, and me unable to stay sat down.

He was in a quarter final round, facing down two of the meanest, roughest opponents I had ever seen.

The first was huge, he must of been ten feet tall easily. He had scars from head to toe, wearing black leather, smoking a big ole stogie. His jaw was big and his chin pronounced. In his hands he held the largest battle axe I've ever seen a man lift. I remember because stood up, it was nearly as tall as the man himself.

The second was a woman. Yes, women competed when I was a kid too. She was smaller then my Dad, a couple of feet I reckon, but she was hiding something, I could tell. Her eyes were narrow, hidden from the shadow of her hood. Black lipstick and a studded collar, she was more punk then I've ever seen. In each hand she held Sai's, little fork like things, but sharper then dragon's teeth. She held them as if she was an expert, a kung-fu master or a deadly assassin.

They all stood, waiting for the buzzer, as did the crowd. Oh, the crowd. They were on their feet in anticipation, as was I. Even watching on our beatnik TV, I felt the anticipation even more so then anyone in that crowd. My Dad was a fighter, and the crowd knew it.

My Dad was about six and a half feet tall, grinning his pearly whites, ear to ear. He wasn't as big as the dude with the axe but he was just as strong. He as wearing his fight gear, a black shirt with a grey body vest over it, a simple pair of blue jeans with padding around the knees and his brown leather boots. Just like a cowboys with the jingling noise when he walked and everything. He was holding his own weapon, he called it Brimstone. Like the fires of hell or the wrath of God, it was this huge steel hammer. The head of it had this clock in it, he used to say it ticked down the seconds to your doom. He was never very good at intimidation. Suffice it to say, the hammer did all the work for him.

My Granddad always told me that he would win this year. He told me that last year and the year before too. But this year, this was the year. He had made it to the quarterfinals, the other rounds were a piece of cake. He had good odds to win and this match would just be another under his belt.

The timer began to countdown from ten, the match was about to start. Sudden death, one life each. Fatal blows to knock out the opponent. The arena had been selected as Clockworld, my favorite. It was an old Asian village, ornate buildings and dirt pathways leading to fields and hills. A large clock tower was the focus at the center, attached to a white building, then second hand ticked down the clock. The crowd ticked down with it, ten, nine, eight. My Dad locked eyes with the other fighters, seven, six. His grips tensed the shaft of his hammer, five, four, three. The tension was unbearable, the small woman shift her stance, ready to pounce like a tiger. Two, one, ring ring ring.

A bell rang as Zach was about to come to the climax of his story, "Back to class everyone," boomed a dominant male voice, "Zach, what have I told you about wasting people's time with your stories." A large figure of a man, clad in a brown, cheap looking suit spoke to Zach. The students that had been sat with Zach scurried off, before the Director of the college got any closer, leaving only Zach to face the music.

"I best get back or I'll be late!" Zach tried to sneak away with the crowd that was gathered with him, only for a large hand to rest on his shoulder, gripping it firmly.

"I don't know who your trying to fool Zach. I didn't buy your stories for a second, I seldom believe that anyone else does either." He had the voice of a man who had smoked every day of his life, a croaky, husky tone that only a jazz singer would be jealous of. "Your Dad might have been in the games, but he was never successful. Neither will you if you spend all your time talking and none of it learning. Heck, even your old man spent more time training then yapping."

Zach sighed, hearing the same old speech time and time again, grating at him.

"You sure have a way with words Franklin, always motivational. I'm surprised that more students here aren't award winning scientists or Olympic level athletes. I bet last years ACA champion studied here too." His sarcastic comment didn't go down well with the suited man. A grimace spread across his face, like a bitter chill had hit the air.

"You will refer to me as Mr Ambrose while on college grounds, understand? Or wise words will be the last thing stopping your getting kicked out." His serious tone undermining Zach. "We do happen to have tutored some very well known politicians and we even have an Olympic swimmer, trained, under our fine guidance and mentoring. As for you, do you even have any classes left today?" he asked.

"I was just talking to my friends before kicking off home for the day. I'll not take up any more of your precious time, Mr Ambrose," speaking his name with humor, "Later Teach'."

Before a moments notice or a retaliatory response from his superior, Zach grabbed his tattered brown rucksack and bolted for the gates they were sat in front of. Franklin shook his head as Zach ran off into the distance, tutting to himself in dismay before returning to the warmth of the building.

Zach had the rest of the weekend now to himself. His Granddad was at home, most likely sleeping. He had no plans to disturb him, instead, he was planning on spending his weekend doing something a little more exciting. The sign ups for this years Avatar Combat Arena knock out stages were going on all weekend and this year he was finally old enough to enter his name. Each person must be at least eighteen years old to put their name down to even at least perform for tryouts. The top three of each town would get to go on an expenses spared trip to the Dome and a spot in the knock out rounds. The knock out rounds were televised and Zach craved nothing more then to follow in the footsteps of his father and this year, he was finally able to enter.

His pace quickening, Zach headed to the tram stop that was near by. The next tram would be along shortly and he had arranged to meet up with his friend whom would be joining him.

The air was chilly and bitter, late afternoon sun spilled clumsily through dull lifeless clouds. A mild wind skirted by, leaving Zach's cheek rosy but harshly cold. It didn't phase him though, blood pumped through him and the adrenaline of excitement, the same he felt when he was a child watching his father. The same night that had lost him.

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The tram station was busy, late afternoon and everyone was commuting back home from the long day working. People shuffled and jostled for position, all itching to be near the front so as to guarantee their seat. One particularly patient girl sat on one of the wooden benches that followed the platform. Everyone was so eager to board a tram that hadn't arrived, that most of the benches were empty. She had a look of tiredness on her face, yawning from the cool air. Her unusual red eyes hid behind vivid blue hair. In between yawning a smile boarded across her face as she eyed up her phone, checking the time on it. She was dressed with the weather in mind, a black thick woolen jumper clung to her skin. A red and black plaid skirt brushed over her knees, her legs colored black with the cotton fabric of her leggings. A pair of heeled black boots brimmed a few inches above her ankles, one leg crossed over the other effeminately.

The unusual girl looked around with a content eye, taking notice of the various business men with their briefcases and lack of patience. Her eyes locked on to the station entrance in the distance, noticing a familiar face stroll through with an eager skip to his walk. A similar, eager smile hit across her face broadly as she got up from her seat and walk towards him hurriedly.

"What took you so long?" she asked in a sarcastic tone."

Zach smiled and hugged the girl before answering, "The usual. Important things to do, important people to see," he said equally sarcastically. "You don't look like you've been that busy Sabina. You could of at least made of effort, you do know how important today is, right?"

They released each other from the friendly embrace, standing opposite each other in a relaxed fashion before an announcement came over the station loudspeaker.

"4:30 northbound approaching, stopping at Gunner Stadium, Anglebrook and Candletown, departing at 4:35." The male voice booming throughout, the two paying close attention to it.

Sabina smirked at Zach before giving him a playful thump on his shoulder, "Nick of time. Luckily for you." They moved behind the business men who were now jostling for front position even more, unprofessional and uncourteous.

"I've got more then luck on my side today Sabi," the tram stopped, opening the doors to a flood of commuters disembarking. "I've got my whole life riding on this. I have my Father behind me. I even have Granddad at home, when he's awake that is," jokingly.

The queue of suits pushed forward, entering the tram and finding their seat. Sabina and Zach pushed just behind the crowd, sneaking between the gaps and finding a couple of seats by the back. The tram was always busy and today was no different, every seat was occupied after only a minute of the doors opening. Opposite the pair, two men sat. One taller, thin man with his laptop opening, typing furiously. The other was a portly gentlemen with fat cheeks, squeezed into the space like sardines in a can. He was whispering into his phone, so as to not let other hear his conversation but his face was intent and angry.

"You got all you need," she asked him, seeing the backpack.

Smiling, "That's for me to know and you to be speechless when you find out. How about you?"

"I'm always prepared, you should know me by now. I got everything sorted this morning while you were wasting your time at college. Why do you go again? I'm not even sure that you really learn anything." Chuckling as she poked fun at him.

"I go, because believe it or not, my friends are there," though this wasn't the true reason, "And I'm like, the smartest person there. Even Mr Ambrose would tell you that."

"Does anyone actually believe anything you tell them or do you just enjoy making things up. You aren't fooling anyone that you're some sort of genius. Trust me, I'd know if you were really that smart."

"Smart enough for you," he replied, "That's why I still hang out with you, you get me."

She turned to look out the window, seeing the trees and fields fly past her vision as they approached a large industrial area.

"That, and because I'm the only friend you've got. That reminds me, when we get their Zach, please, to God, do no embarrass me!" emphasizing her point by giving him a cold stare. "No shenanigans. No boasting. No, 'I'm last years champion' crap. We sign up, we wait till our try outs and then we kick a*s."

A smug grin returned to Zach's face, "I have never said I was 'last years champion'. I just said I'll be this years," he said confidently, "But, I swear. On my Granddad's fragile life, that I will not embarrass you."

"Nice try, I know you'd throw your Granddad under a bus if it made your rich. Just remember, I know where you live and I can easily kick your a*s once I've finished with whoever is my opponent."

He interrupted her, "You never know. We might end up facing each other. Both our names could be pulled out, completely at random. Wouldn't that be bad if I had to knock you out of the competition, before you've even entered it," his smug grin growing impossibly.

The robotic voice spoke over them, "Arrival at Gunner Stadium in two minutes. Please be ready to disembark promptly, thank you." The view from the window changed from grassy foliage to a built up building. Concrete pathways and a large series of car parks surrounding a large domed stadium. The concrete walls towered around the tarmac around it. Parts were painted a dull blue which had clearly faded and weathered with time. The stadium wasn't the biggest but it held its own against the megadome in Candletown. The tram slowed to a crawl until it stood still. The doors opened and several more crowds, once again left and entered at the same time, followed closely by Zach and Sabina. They stood at the platform waiting for it to leave before crossing over to the stadium. Metal lettering hung above the entrance, rusting, the word Gunners written proudly. The two entered a large hall with glass booths dotted around with queues of people attached to each one. Signs above each booth denoted the reason for each queue, 'Attendees' were to the left with the largest queues. Both adults and children were in this line anticipating a fun afternoons entertainment. The right were labelled 'Participants'. The amount of people were much smaller, no children, only those over the age of eighteen waited. No one in this line was after 'entertainment'. Each person was either confident, stoic, calm or nervous.

"We need to wait in that line," Sabina pointed to the right as Zach merely looked at the people in each line, "Seems to be going down quite quickly." They both moved to the back and people joined behind them. She was correct, before Zach could even size up the people in front and behind him, they arrived at the front facing the booth. A small woman with half moon glasses sat staring up at them, paperwork and a pen in each hand.

She spoke gingerly, "Good afternoon, could I have your names and ID's please."

Zach dove greedily into his pocket, pulling out his college card and Sabina did the same but hers was a citizenship card. Both handed them through a gap below the glass of the booth and the old lady took them.

"Zach Rook."

"Sabina Krio." They both answered.

The old lady eyed up both sets of identification, looking back up at them both, before writing their names on a large list. "Thank you for participating in the preliminary round of ACA," she spoke with words she had said a thousand times today, "Gunners and Gunners Stadium are not responsible for your personal effects, please keep a close eye on your belongings. The stadium closes at 10:00pm tonight, the waiting area is behind this booth, just follow the yellow signs. You will be called out before your match, please follow the attendants instructions. Good luck in your matches. Next!" she barked, waving away Zach and Sabina as the queue shuffled forward again.

The pair walked around the booth swiftly to the waiting area. Rows of steel chairs were lined up, a lot of them filled with various people. They all faced a podium with a younger lady, writing on a clipboard. Besides her was a round metal cage with many white ping pong balls inside it, the lady was writing on them with a thick black marker and placing them one by one inside the metal tumbler. Above her was a large television screen with advertising scrolling across it. Zach and Sabina sat down near the back were their were still spaces, at the end of a row.

"A big turn out this year, I didn't think a lot of people would come." Zach mentioned, again eyeing up each person one by one as potential opponents.

"Half of west Genoa's Avatar Combat fan base attend. You should know that by now. There are only four places to compete to vie for a spot at Capitol City. They need to weed out the small fry before the big leagues." Explaining the event to Zach, who was still looking around, only slightly paying attention.

"How many of these chumps do I have beat?" he asked assuredly.

Sighed before her response, "Do you even look up any of this stuff online first?" huffing once more at him. "You need three straight wins. It's a traditional knock-out layout. If you lose, your out."

"Good job I'm not planning to lose," he said. Zach leaned over to place his rucksack by his feet before unzipping it. He dove into it, wading through his junk before pulling out his USB drive. "All I need is this baby and I'm a shoe in."

Sabina pulled her own from her pocket, "Did you get everything worked out in the end? Thought you still had a glitch with that propulsion system."

"Nah," he paused, flicking it into the air and catching it, "I just had to do some fine tuning, a couple of tweaks. She is going to blow their minds."

Sabina snatched it out of the air after Zach tossed it up once more, "I hope so for your sake. Or you'll be watching me on TV when I win. Delilah has never let me down once."

Zach tried to grab it out of Sabina's hand, "Apart from that one time, I beat you don't forget."

"Yes, that one time. That one time where the propulsion on your weapon broke and blew me up. Dumb luck will only get you so far!" she handed back to him his USB stick. It was red with a small blue light on the top of it.

The lady at the podium, in her mid 20's, tapped at a microphone testing it.

"Ahem, ladies and gentlemen. Good evening and welcome to Genoa west Avatar Combat playoffs. We will begin with the first rounds shortly," two large monitors were rolled in on black trolleys. "We will be announcing six names and a letter, A, B or C. If your name is called out, could you please make your way through the corresponding door. If not, you may watch the matches in progress on the screens around me. Please have your USB drives ready, with your weapon and attire files on them. They attendees in the rooms will place them ready in the simulation pods while you step inside and place on the virtual reality headsets. You need three wins to progress to the prestigious Capitol City for the next stage of the competition." She paused for a moment to catch her breath as her hurried speech caught up with her, she was evidently nervous. "Before we begin, I must remind everyone that this is a friendly competition. Any, out of simulation fights will not be tolerated and troublemakers will be escorted outside the arena. Now, without further of ado, I will draw the first six names."

The small murmurs of the crowded room died down in an instant as the metal cage began to roll in its chamber. The small white balls inside it bouncing freely, cycling themselves. She stopped its rotations and opened a small hatch in the top which was only able to fit her small hands inside. She pulled out the first ball, turning the names towards her before leaning back into the microphone, "Fiji Hummingbird."

A tall, slender man rose from his seat with his arms crossed. He was wearing a blue fedora which his face hid under. He was stood in front of Zach, so he could not see his face at all.

The attendant dove her hand in for a second name, "Kaiden Zage. Set A." A second tall man stood up, this one had much dark skin. His hair was brown and long, fashioned into a ponytail. His mouth was wide, bearing his teeth in the brightest smile. The first man turned to look at his opponent before they both stepped out of the aisles and into the doorway marked with a large 'A' above it. She repeated the process again, "Marcus Jones." A black man rose this time, he was very muscular, his hair rolled into dreadlocks and tied behind his head. His hands were against his hips with his chest pushed out. "Miju Ashra. Set B." A girl stood from her seat and hurried towards their doorway, not paying much attention to the man following close behind her. She seemed timid and small in comparison to him. "Okay Set C folks. Urs Deneb." A beefy man with his hood up aroused from his seat. His sleeves were rolled up, showing a large tattoo of a grizzly bear on his left arm. "Zach Rook."

Zach shot up, his legs springing his body to life. His was ready, despite being called for the first matches, he seemed completely unphased. His eyes darted towards the hooded man as he moved towards the front.

"Good luck," Sabina whispered. She seemed nervous for him.

They both stepped through the double doors at the same time, eyes looking forward. Two attendants waited for them, either side of them were white simulation pods. They looked immaculately clean, brand new. They must have been provided especially for today. The man beside him pulled down his hood and turned to Zach, his hand outstretched.

"Good luck," he said politely. His voice was gruff and his face matched it. A large bushy brown beard filled his face, his nose poking over the top of it and his small brown eyes above them. His hair was equally bushy and unkempt. He wasn't smiling, a serious impression, one he hoped to leave on Zach, who took his hand and shook it.

"You too," he nodded, "You'll need it." Zach released his hand to smile, brimming with confidence.

The grizzled man took no offense to his bullheadedness and nodded back to him. Zach dove into his pocket and pullet out his red USB stick and placed it into the attendants outstretched hand. The other man did the same as they both went to enter their pods.

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