Audition entry for Sinisters End OC Tournament, starting soon.

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“Well that was a waste of time, wasn't it?” Kairin whispered into the smoky air. An empty brandy glass sat near her hand on the counter. A plush replica of herself nodded beside her. “All that fighting, and I still haven't found a way to beat that damned merchant.”

She sighed, and stepped away from the bar, out into the gathering night. The air was cool, with a light breeze. Kairin raised her right arm up in front of her, looking through her fingers at the full moon. A faint hiss could be heard, as well oiled mechanical parts slid and rotated past each other to actuate the movement. She clenched her fist. “Just you wait, Cleese. I'll get you yet. I'll get you.”

As the wind continued to swirl about Kairin, she tensed. “And who might you be?” she growled. Kairin spun around, cocking her right arm back, a faint click coming from her arm as an unseen mechanism opened slightly, pressing against the coat sleeve.

Barely half a foot in front of her stood a tallish man, dressed in Victorian attire. “Ah, I see you've finally noticed me.” The man grinned, lips pulled into a sarcastic smirk. “The name's Sir Prize. I have come here with a proposition for you. You are Kairin Hughes, I presume?”

Kairin frowned slightly. “Yeah, that's me. What kind of a proposition are we talking here? I've no interest in hiring lackeys, if that's what you want, they cost too much and just get in my way.”

A voice floated seemingly out of nowhere. “My my, doesn't she have a tongue. Oh ho, this should be fun indeed!”

Kairin started. “Who's there! Show yourself!” she shouted, her eyes flicking in vain from each shadowy doorway and alley to the next.

“Oh, that's just my partner, Miss Fortune. She can only be seen by those of the male gender, you see,” Sir Prize said, sounding somewhat bored. “Now, back to my proposition. I have no interest in becoming one of your...lackeys, as you put it, even I have rather a bit more pride than that. No, I come here to offer you an invitation. You've made quite a name for yourself fighting here in Byako, as a fighter with little mercy. My employer has marked you as a promising rising villain, as new as you may be, and would like to invite you to Sinister End to compete in a tournament. It will be very different from what you experienced here though. You will be free to do whatever you like, without petty limitations like 'no deaths.' My employer is looking for the best of the worst, you see, and is prepared to offer you whatever you might ask for, should you win.”

“Sounds like my kind of place.” Kairin smiled slightly. “Whatever I ask for, eh? No offense to you, but I don't really trust those kinds of promises any more. No, I think you can leave me out of this one, as much as the opportunity to kill off other fighters sounds fun to me. Unless you can show me some proof of what your employer can offer me, I'm not interested.” She turned away, and began to walk down the empty street.

Sir Prize sighed. “Perhaps I was mistaken in my choice of words.” His voice dropped slightly, with a hint of steel. “When I said that you had been invited to join the tournament, I did not mean that you had a choice. My employer has tasked me with gathering the most talented villains of the world, and you will join whether you want to or not.”

“Tch.” Kairing stopped in mid-stride. “How annoying. You know, I never did like clingy people.” Kairin spun around, charging at Sir Prize. Her right coat arm exploded open into shreds as strong springs released, kicking a pair of blades out and forward from her forearm. With a thrust, she impaled Sir Prize on the blades all the way up to her fist...

Or rather, that's what should have happened. Instead, something rather different occurred. First, a screw came loose in Kairin's left leg, causing her to lose balance. Falling sideways, she swung her right arm around wildly in an attempt to catch onto something, and ended up slicing through a thin wooden support. Having lost one of its legs, the awning before the Byako Saloon came crashing down, landing squarely on Kairin's back.

As the dust settled, Miss Fortune's voice came floating once again through the dust. “Oh dear, I do hope I haven't overdone it. I wasn't really expecting to have to do this.” She giggled lightly.

With a loud crash, Kairin burst out of the wreckage, her sword held at the ready, staring furiously at Sir Prize. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right where you stand!”

“Miss Hughes, I do wish you would calm down for just a moment. And besides, Miss Fortune could quite easily stop you again.” Sir Prize sighed. “You asked for proof? Take a look at this. I was asked to show it to you, should you prove...difficult.” He pulled out a rapier from beneath his coat, displaying it to Kairin. All down its obsidian black blade was carved countless runes and other magical symbols. The weapon itself glowed a dull red, giving off a vaguely sinister and powerful aura. “This, as I have no doubt you have recognized by now, is Fenrir's Wrath. One of the few remaining legendary Swords of Hades in known existence, and it belongs to my employer, along with many other priceless treasures and powerful trinkets. It could become yours, if you win. And haven't you been searching for this sort of power, with which to defeat your nemesis?”

Kairin's eyes widened in surprise. She had seen her share of rares before, and even owned one of the ultra rares of the world (her sword), but never had she glimpsed a legendary weapon. She put her weapon away. “Very well, then. It seems I have little choice anyways. I'll play your game...

...and I'll win it too!”