[PS] Barracks

[Zangya]

The goddess of fear awoke with a start, only to find herself in a rather unfamiliar room. Well, unfamiliar in that it was not the room she had been told to sleep in—rather, it was something completely different, more military, more regulated, more… well, less accommodating. It was the barracks, undoubtedly, she remembered them from the previous year, but they seemed considerably new to her. They were a bit more regal despite their continuous military appearance, just as the entire complex had seemed quite medieval to her at first glance. Perhaps it was supposed to add to the theme. After all, it was called a battle “royale.”

The library had perhaps been the most obvious. Two golden statues had been manufactured in honor of the two previous winners of the tourney, Raditzu and Bardock—they each stood triumphantly by the doors that led to the museum and library, respectively. She didn’t seem too convinced that Raditzu would be one to have a statue in his honor promoting a museum or a library, but it was too late for any of those types of thoughts. She knew that now, the game must be always on her mind.

And yet she could not get her mind off of the appearance of the place. The bar, this year, had looked much like a classic Shakespearean tavern—and that seemed quaint, true, but it was not encouraging the participants to stay away from alcohol before the tournament began. After all, you saw what happen to Zangya when her indulgence went just a bit overboard—which brought her to look down at the object that had been flopping around in her hands. The rubber chicken. How… ironic that it seemed to join her in these barracks.

The barracks, resembling the other places slightly, were decorated in an appropriate manner—instead of numbers taped to each bed, there was a tapestry hanging above the headboard that signified their number. Making an about face, Zangya spotted the numeral that was sewn onto her tapestry—the number one.

“Number one?” she muttered, gazing up at the golden-threaded Arabic numeral that was staring down at her. “I’m—the first one accepted—” she stuttered, and couldn’t find it in herself to move from the spot, sitting gracefully on the bed, staring up at the number that guaranteed her passage into Dante’s Abyss 2008. Suddenly, her ponderings were rudely interrupted by the tapping of a dainty finger on her shoulder—she flipped around to find herself staring, surprised, at the blue-haired girl who had just awoken her from her trance. “Yes?” she sputtered, standing as she panted from her shock.

“The administration—Mr. Jak—asked me to inform you that we’re glad to see you up and running. You gave us a run for our money last night, trying to get you down here, Miss Zangya,” she replied, giggling slightly. “I’m sure you don’t remember, but you were quite intoxicated, and when our agents arrived to transport you, you refused to accompany them. If you hadn’t been so obviously drunk, they probably would have taken that as you exiting the competition. Knowing you were intoxicated, however, they simply dragged you down here by force. You fought back, of course, but were not injured in any way that could hinder you during the competition.”

Zangya was wide-eyed. “That seems… quite incidental.”

“Oh, yes, it is,” she assured her, “You will not be penalized for your actions under the influence. We have cleared you of any possibility of what may be called a ‘hangover’ so that your competitive spirit may be healthy. And I was to pass this information along to you as well—underneath your cot is what is called a survival bag. It contains your weapon, food, water, a scouter, a map, and a compass. You may look inside whenever you feel so compelled.”

“Thanks,” Zangya said, ushering the girl away. She didn’t waste any time of course. As soon as she felt compelled—which was rather close to ‘right away’—she shoved herself under the bed and pulled out the survival bag. She unzipped it, and reached inside. “What is it?” she wondered as she reached in and placed her hand around what must have been her weapon.

“Interesting.”