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Description
Evangelline pulled the over-sized hoodie around her shoulders, the February air an unpleasant welcome into this event. Angel hissed, "Like fuck I'm going to be doing this without killing a few simpletons out of if only principal." Eva remained silent. She knew better than to argue with any of the voices in her head, especially Angel. The chill wasn't really helping their poor tempers. The stadium she was heading towards was lit up as if for an Olympic event, and she supposed it was one. Times have changed, though. Eve's haunting whisper filtered through Eva's head, "Things are bound to change in this way..." Eva would have agreed. Violence was always going to rule over all else, despite politics and money and sex. Angel smiled at that last part. Eva saw security and knew it was time.

Jack took a breath of dry, chilled air. It figured it would all start in Colorado, a bit of a physical peak for the Americans. A woman with dark hair looked his way and something lit up in her eyes, Jack smiled at her and she turned away. He never knew why they would do that. He was being polite, yes? Arcadeum Stadium wasn't too far away now, maybe a few blocks. Jackson pulled down on his scarf a bit and took out a cigarette, his blue lighter freezing to the touch as he lit the cancer stick. It would always boggle him how he managed to hold onto this habit of all of the things his brother taught him. It would kill him one day--and for some reason that didn't bother him.

"Hey, how much ye wanna bet they pull him out of the race for good behavior?" The small man said to his comrade, grinning.
The other chuckled and snorted, "Good behavior, hah." Lincoln snarled and the two escorts silenced, though not without a frown and a couple of glares. Link liked it that way. Quiet and brooding suited him just fine.
"You assholes should find new material. I can only kill so many people for your poor fuckin' excuse for entertainment." Link pointed out, knowing they wouldn't answer. He'd gotten lucky today. He could give them shit and they couldn't beat him in public--at least not here. He flexed his wrist under the tight cord tethering him to the two guards. He'd heard there was supposed to be a girl involved. A promising intern to make sure he doesn't fuck up the competition too bad. She wasn't part of the small garrison guiding him to the stadium though, and he wondered if she would meet them there. Not that he gave a shit but liked plenty of time to size up new meat. Everyone had a weakness, and a woman was always an easy target for him.

"But Rose, dear--"
"I don't want to hear another word," Snapped Rozalina, shoving the man attempting to walk alongside her brisk pace a few steps back. "I made it abundantly clear I wasn't going to stick around." Her jaw tightened, trying very hard not to sigh. Men. Irritating beyond belief, even if they were mostly predictable.
"Rose I only wanted to--" She whipped around and he nearly ran into her.
"I know what you wanted, and let me speak in a language you'll understand better:" Roza paused for effect, "I will make you wish I'd never been born if you take one step closer." She leveled her jade eyes into his brown. Fear. Good. He froze where he stood and Roza took that as her signal to leave freely. She took a deep breath through her nose and checked her smart phone. A pointless effort since it was telling her that the Stadium was close enough to see anyway. She looked up and finally noticed the festivities. There were food stands and plumes of smoke from grills filling the chilly air. She grimaced at the sight. It reminded her of ancient Rome, the fascination with such events. Might as well eat something before the big event, in any case.

Damian Vector was on the news again. The man himself sighed at his large flatscreen television and turned off the volume. He could taste the ink on his tongue now. He could no longer smell it, he wasn't entirely sure if he still had the ability to smell in the first place. Everything he owned now had to be pitch black in color and waterproof--or as near to it as he could get. It felt more like a glass box than home. Though a penthouse was less a home and more a bachelor pad anyway. The Denver skyline was lovely, though smog marred even this place now. Mountains cut through the modern scene somewhere in the background, and Damian's radioactive blue eyes skimmed the remnants of a once naturally beautiful land.
It felt to him almost like the evolution of man itself. He stared down at his black palms, and was reminded of the appendages starting to ache near his shoulder blades. He rolled his back muscles and large raven-like wings fluttered in the large space, black feathers peeling off like paper then disappearing once they hit the cool marble floor.
In the corner of his eye he noticed the hostess of the big event start what appeared to be her opening lines and he settled onto his sofa in his black silk robes. A hint of a smile twitched at the corner of his lips. Time to endure a couple of hours of nonsense and get this show on the road.

The Arcadeum Stadium was built to house a new series of Olympic-level games that exceed normal human abilities, and once a year the biggest game of all was held: Hell's Alleys. It was a race of epic proportions with various challenges and events along the road. One could suppose it to be similar to the Amazing Race that's relatively popular on television. This takes that to another level thanks to a still-mysterious disease called Demon Ink that raises one's abilities to a supernatural height and gives certain individuals unique abilities based on the tattoo that ultimately caused their infliction. Downside of course being a much shorter lifespan, as the ink poisons the afflicted. The Stadium would become the crown jewel on Damian Vector's belt of achievements; as he is the man who organized a special medical/military team called VADTE that balanced the world when this new affliction caused chaos and death everywhere it hit. He also created the Vector Hospitals that became clinics specifically created to sedate or otherwise treat those individuals with Demon Ink, and register people so that they might be organized and kept-track of for the safety of the general public. The Arcadeum Stadium is holding its second annual Hell's Alleys race today on February the 23rd of 2016, in Denver, Colorado. Let the games begin.

Description
Evangelline pulled the over-sized hoodie around her shoulders, the February air an unpleasant welcome into this event. Angel hissed, "Like fuck I'm going to be doing this without killing a few simpletons out of if only principal." Eva remained silent. She knew better than to argue with any of the voices in her head, especially Angel. The chill wasn't really helping their poor tempers. The stadium she was heading towards was lit up as if for an Olympic event, and she supposed it was one. Times have changed, though. Eve's haunting whisper filtered through Eva's head, "Things are bound to change in this way..." Eva would have agreed. Violence was always going to rule over all else, despite politics and money and sex. Angel smiled at that last part. Eva saw security and knew it was time.

Jack took a breath of dry, chilled air. It figured it would all start in Colorado, a bit of a physical peak for the Americans. A woman with dark hair looked his way and something lit up in her eyes, Jack smiled at her and she turned away. He never knew why they would do that. He was being polite, yes? Arcadeum Stadium wasn't too far away now, maybe a few blocks. Jackson pulled down on his scarf a bit and took out a cigarette, his blue lighter freezing to the touch as he lit the cancer stick. It would always boggle him how he managed to hold onto this habit of all of the things his brother taught him. It would kill him one day--and for some reason that didn't bother him.

"Hey, how much ye wanna bet they pull him out of the race for good behavior?" The small man said to his comrade, grinning.
The other chuckled and snorted, "Good behavior, hah." Lincoln snarled and the two escorts silenced, though not without a frown and a couple of glares. Link liked it that way. Quiet and brooding suited him just fine.
"You assholes should find new material. I can only kill so many people for your poor fuckin' excuse for entertainment." Link pointed out, knowing they wouldn't answer. He'd gotten lucky today. He could give them shit and they couldn't beat him in public--at least not here. He flexed his wrist under the tight cord tethering him to the two guards. He'd heard there was supposed to be a girl involved. A promising intern to make sure he doesn't fuck up the competition too bad. She wasn't part of the small garrison guiding him to the stadium though, and he wondered if she would meet them there. Not that he gave a shit but liked plenty of time to size up new meat. Everyone had a weakness, and a woman was always an easy target for him.

"But Rose, dear--"
"I don't want to hear another word," Snapped Rozalina, shoving the man attempting to walk alongside her brisk pace a few steps back. "I made it abundantly clear I wasn't going to stick around." Her jaw tightened, trying very hard not to sigh. Men. Irritating beyond belief, even if they were mostly predictable.
"Rose I only wanted to--" She whipped around and he nearly ran into her.
"I know what you wanted, and let me speak in a language you'll understand better:" Roza paused for effect, "I will make you wish I'd never been born if you take one step closer." She leveled her jade eyes into his brown. Fear. Good. He froze where he stood and Roza took that as her signal to leave freely. She took a deep breath through her nose and checked her smart phone. A pointless effort since it was telling her that the Stadium was close enough to see anyway. She looked up and finally noticed the festivities. There were food stands and plumes of smoke from grills filling the chilly air. She grimaced at the sight. It reminded her of ancient Rome, the fascination with such events. Might as well eat something before the big event, in any case.

Damian Vector was on the news again. The man himself sighed at his large flatscreen television and turned off the volume. He could taste the ink on his tongue now. He could no longer smell it, he wasn't entirely sure if he still had the ability to smell in the first place. Everything he owned now had to be pitch black in color and waterproof--or as near to it as he could get. It felt more like a glass box than home. Though a penthouse was less a home and more a bachelor pad anyway. The Denver skyline was lovely, though smog marred even this place now. Mountains cut through the modern scene somewhere in the background, and Damian's radioactive blue eyes skimmed the remnants of a once naturally beautiful land.
It felt to him almost like the evolution of man itself. He stared down at his black palms, and was reminded of the appendages starting to ache near his shoulder blades. He rolled his back muscles and large raven-like wings fluttered in the large space, black feathers peeling off like paper then disappearing once they hit the cool marble floor.
In the corner of his eye he noticed the hostess of the big event start what appeared to be her opening lines and he settled onto his sofa in his black silk robes. A hint of a smile twitched at the corner of his lips. Time to endure a couple of hours of nonsense and get this show on the road.

The Arcadeum Stadium was built to house a new series of Olympic-level games that exceed normal human abilities, and once a year the biggest game of all was held: Hell's Alleys. It was a race of epic proportions with various challenges and events along the road. One could suppose it to be similar to the Amazing Race that's relatively popular on television. This takes that to another level thanks to a still-mysterious disease called Demon Ink that raises one's abilities to a supernatural height and gives certain individuals unique abilities based on the tattoo that ultimately caused their infliction. Downside of course being a much shorter lifespan, as the ink poisons the afflicted. The Stadium would become the crown jewel on Damian Vector's belt of achievements; as he is the man who organized a special medical/military team called VADTE that balanced the world when this new affliction caused chaos and death everywhere it hit. He also created the Vector Hospitals that became clinics specifically created to sedate or otherwise treat those individuals with Demon Ink, and register people so that they might be organized and kept-track of for the safety of the general public. The Arcadeum Stadium is holding its second annual Hell's Alleys race today on February the 23rd of 2016, in Denver, Colorado. Let the games begin.