A Good Ol' Fashion Bashin'

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

The hall Jason entered was dark. At the opposite end, a light, a battle, and a consequence. At the end of this tunnel, Jason would find a means to an end, and at that point, it would be up to him to achieve that end. 'That's all it is,' he thought, 'A means to an end. Money, food, a roof. That's all it is.' Jason would take up a fighting stance once more. He was broke, homeless, and hiding from the Exchange. He had nowhere else to turn except for an Hutt controlled fighting pitt independent from the Exchange. Tonight, he picked up the gauntlets, and he would crush whoever stepped into that pit with him, collect his 500 credits, and be on his way.

It use to be more than just money. It was life for which he fought. It was his mother's life. It was freedom from his father.

A cold shudder raced across his spine and his blood circulated rapidly through his body. He could feel the air around him burning up as the anger of his memories came to the forefront of his mind, his fists clenched tightly and he could feel his neck, almost involuntarily cocking the side very slowly. He could feel the joints in his neck ready to pop, could feel the pressure in his chest. Suddenly he unclenched his breath, took control of his neck, returning to a natural position, and breathed in deeply, letting the breath out. He would not resort to such rage...Doing so would be weakness in himself, and may also send rumor to exchange. He did not want them to know he was alive.

His steps were light, yet still he heard them echo across the darkness of the hall. sometimes one must walk a dark path to arrive at their destination.

Fighting. it was a love which he'd lost. It use to be simple, fight, win, do the right thing. Ever since he'd left Coruscant, fighting had taken an entirely different turn. It wasn't fun anymore. It was life or death. He had to watch himself, or let the beast take control. Jason could hardly remember the faces which he'd burned, beaten, disfigured. However, he remembered the voices. He remembered the agony. He remembered his own intensity, his twisted, psychotic depravity which caused him to almost shriek with enthusiasm as his victims screamed in the night, not to be heard by any who cared.

It was not a thing which he was proud of.

Tonight Jason would use his skills in a more civilized way, he promised himself. He loved fighting. There was an emotional connection with oneself, and even ones opponent, which one can rarely ever feel with another human being. Because when someones solid fist is traveling toward your face; you need to be connected with yourself. You need to know yourself, in order to respond properly. Not only know yourself, but also your opponent. If you want to win, you have to knew them, read them, connect. Then you need to respond.

Not to mention the thrill and adrenaline that comes with fighting. It's an outlet for Jason. The frustrations he holds all pour out into his attacks. No punch is pulled, save for the one that would kill. ( At least, in a sporting fight. ) It's that adrenaline and passion which kept him alive. The only two things better than that was the connection between a band and their audience on stage, and the connection between a man and his lover in bed.

Jason's footfalls stopped just before he could reach the light. He looked forward, into the light at the end of the tunnel. The fighting arena was just what one would think, a pit. The floors and walls were both padded with white, so that the audience could see the blood and the fighters wouldn't suffer a concussion when they got dropped to the floor. This was a brutal place, but not always a lethal joint. Six feet above the walls of the arena stood the spectators, separated by absolutely nothing. Yes, this arena was designed with a single purpose; a good-ol' fashion, face smashin', fun time.

An announcer spoke to the crowd, "The bets are in, ladies and gentlemen, and the fight is about to begin! Be sure not to miss it; two new contenders, appearing for the first time here at the Gnarly Hutta's Fight Pit, ready to duke it out for your pleasure and profit! Welcome, in the North entrance, Yargo Vandalex, weighing in at 120 pounds, a short fighter from Dantooine, as we're told, whose past is unknown."

Jason knew it, that was the time for him to enter the arena.

With perfrect showmanship he came out of the dark tunnel and into the light. Jason's appearance was slightly altered for now. He had a beard growing, and his hair was dyed black and grown out three inches longer than usual. A rather gruff apperance, something he was unaccustomed to. Usually, he was well kempt and sharp, and he would walk in with an air of great self-confidence and a smile, boasting a good fight.

Today, he decided to act gruff and proud, his arms folded, his chest out, his head high, an arrogant smile painting his features, as opposed to his typical confident yet humble routine. Yes, career fighting meant showmanship, and of this Jason was an expert.

His arrogant gaze left the audience and focused on the dark tunnel before him. He focused upon his opponent. From this point on, he no longer cared about showmanship. Now it was about victory. Win this one, get money, find a job as a dockworker, get off this blasted planet. Something to that effect.

The question of, "then what?" rose to mind, but he ignored it, his grin growing. Forget then, he lived here, now. It was his one chance to truly enjoy himself, and he would certainly not deny it.

[Alexander]

Caught.


That was all there was to it. Mikau felt all too well the chains that bound his wrists together in front of him. His shirt peeled from him, his lightsaber stripped from him, his shoes taken, Mikau was left with simple grey pants that reached down to his shins. Raggedy was a word to describe them, and it fit perfectly. They provided no defense save for the humiliation and embarrassment Mikau would feel without them.

He felt devoid of the Force that so often calmed and soothed his spirit. His mission aboard the capital ship had failed, and this was his fate: to fight in an arena against an opponent surely out of his league. Mikau didn't care; in fact, he hoped to get the snot beat from him, his soul tarnished, and then planned to return to the place he called home...

The gate in front of him began to open, and Mikau lowered his head, his unkempt dark colored hair a mess and his purple eyes completely stripped of wild brilliance. He kept his eyes closed as he walked into the arena, and then his cuffs fell from his wrists. He was a prisoner now, sentenced to brutal torture; unusually painful and excruciating punishment that was a fight in the arena.

Mikau, his face battered with dirt, looked up into the face of his opponent. He cracked his eyes barely, offering his opponent a snide smile. The young Dark Jedi concentrated, attempting to use the Force to sooth himself. He chuckled quietly and looked up, fully meeting the eye of his opponent. He was much older, much more gruff. He was bearded and brawny, while Mikau was tall and average, carrying the complexion of the young man he was... probably a good 10 years younger.

He parted his feet and sighed quietly, lowering his arms as he would if he had been carrying a lightsaber. Mikau didn't plan on using the Force for this battle, as it had been strictly forbidden; moreover, doing so would result in immediate persecution. No questions asked, no withdraws, Mikau would be killed for using the Force.

But there was indeed something strange about his opponent, something unreal; indeed, young Mikau could literally feel the Force energy radiating off in intense waves of anger and pride from the man before him. Mikau would be severely hurt in this fight, and he knew that all too well.

Laughing aloud, Mikau raised his voice above the cheers of the crowd. "Your move, big guy."

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

Jason looked up at his opponent. They were raggedy, poor, and in worse straits than he. That didn’t mean he’d give them a chance. He looked carefully and measured them; his opponent had a clear height advantage, but Jason had never been frightened by that before. Aside from height, his opponent didn’t look conditioned for physical fighting of any real sort. However, Jason could feel a different threat coming from this man.

As the chains were removed Jason understood this threat. He felt the force from this man. Not the weak life-force that he felt from every man, but a more powerful and concentrated one. Jason knew that this man was a force user, and that set him off guard.

“Your move big man.”

Jason scowled, was he making fun of his height? As the bell rang, less a fighting bell and more of a dinner bell, Jason got into a fighting stance, bouncing lightly on his toes and heels. He slowly stalked, his fists up in defense. He took a step closer and whispered, “Don’t use the Force, or I’ll kill you.” He said.

Jason quickstepped forward, leaning in. His fists flashed at his opponents, knuckles tightened and ready to ring against both flesh and bone. Three quick strikes, then he leapt back a foot, and delivered a high kick, aimed for the side of his opponents head. He wasn’t hitting too hard, he was trying to get a feel for his opponent’s reflexive skill, fighting at perhaps 25%.

[Alexander]

Mikau chuckled to himself as the opposing man took a stance and circled him for a bit. Surely, unlike Mikau, this guy knew what he was doing; perhaps even, this man was a professional. Either way, all Mikau do was laugh: he knew from the beginning he was done. He had gotten here on his own accord, and the young Dark Jedi knew that he would leave by his own accord: his loss of this fight. Trying to find optimism in the situation, Mikau flashed his opponent a half-smile.

The Force? Mikau could only laugh more. "No," he started, parting his feet and lowering his arms. "The Force landed me here. It's no longer my friend; merely... an acquaintance." Mikau jumped back a bit as his opponent came in, prepared himself to either take or dodge the blows his opponent would present. The dark Jedi could hear all too well the cheers of the crowd against him. This man must've been a crowd favorite. Ah well... Mikau thought to himself.

His opponent came with swift punches, but not too swift; Mikau was able to duck down under one, swing himself around the other, making good use of his agility, and leap back for the third. Proud of himself, he began his attack... but did not anticipate a follow-through by his opponent.




Damnit! Mikau thought.



The kick came right below his ear, twisting his neck, and sending Mikau flying back about 10 feet; thereafter crashing hard into the dirt of the pit, face-first. Dizzy and without hearing, Mikau came to all fours and looked towards his opponent. The kick had hit him a lot harder than anticipated, but no bones were broken, thank the Force. That's it! Mikau thought, pleased with himself. He closed his eyes. Even subconsciously, the Force had protected him, keeping his neck from being snapped in half, regardless of the fact that the kick wasn't very powerful. While indeed, Mikau could not take another serious kick like that in the same place, the Force had saved him.

The young Dark Jedi stood proudly, against the jeers of the crowd, and used his speed and agility to his advantage. He dashed towards his opponent quickly and rolled past him, coming around to his blinder side. He proceeded by delivering a swift and half-powerful kick towards the man's abdomen, then leaped back about a foot.

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

Jason was surprised, even shocked, when his kick knocked Mikau back. Jason hesitated for a moment. He stood up straight, folding his arms and playing it off, waving for the crowd to cheer for him. His opponent was less skilled than he had expected. Of course, it might be a feint. Jason saw his opponent rising up, and turned to view. His opponent stood proudly for a moment, then darted forward on the offensive.

Mikau rolled right passed Jason, who was spinning around to view his opponent from the new angle, trying not to let his opponent get into his blind side. The kick came swiftly at his abdomen, Speedy, aren’t ya? he thought to himself. He took a step forward and hardened his abdomen, flexing against the coming impact. He might have been able to stop it if he tried, but he was above all else a showman. Let them see a struggle!

The kick impacted with his stomach. He felt the jolt hit him, and his body stumbled backwards. Outside, he reacted painfully, but inside he was grinning. If Jason hadn’t braced himself, he would have any air left in his lungs. But he had braced himself, so Mikau was in trouble. Mikau retreated, wisely so.

Jason doubled on and coughed, trying to trick his opponent into letting their guard down. In mid cough, he started charging forward, sending a swift punch up towards Mikau’s throat.

[Alexander]

Seeing his opponent bend over in exasperation, Mikau only assumed it was a ruse. Such a tough and crowd-favored opponent couldn't have possibly taken that much pain from a single stomach-aimed kick, Mikau thought, so he assumed the safest position: further away. He took a few steps back and breathed heavily, letting his opponent "recover" from his "injury". Mikau chuckled to himself, concentrated his breathing to a slower pace, and parted his feet again as his opponent recovered.

Seems a bit frantic and rushed... Mikau thought as the burly man charged at him full force. His arms were massive and built; his hands easily reflecting such masculinity. "Careless!" Mikau called aloud, attempting to reach the ear of his opponent. His uppercut came quickly but carelessly, as Mikau called, and thus was easily avoided. Mikau jumped a foot backwards, arching his neck and head backwards as well. However, realizing he was in an uncomfortable position to counter-attack, chose wisely not to do so.

The young yet acrobatic Dark Jedi turned and faced the wall, counting his seconds off to himself. One. Mikau jumped up, barely summoning the Force through his feet to give him a lift. Two. Mikau proceeded to climb the wall, concentrating with the Force to keep his feet pinned to it. He ascended quickly, then turned sideways, almost running across the wall. Three. Mikau leaped off sideways, pushing with all his might off the wall, and landed with a roll a good 10 feet from his opponent. He stepped back again and caught his breath, smiling to his opponent. Mikau winked at him jokingly, tempting him to make another attack. The crowd gasped but did not cheer, and instead, rallied on the muscular man with the wicked scowl.

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

Jason’s scowl turned to a grin at the antics of his opponent, who’d managed to block him easily. Jason approached his opponent slowly, “Running won’t help. It’ll just make you tired faster.” He said, closing the ten foot gap to a mere five feet. let’s see how he does if I use about half my speed. Jason darted forward, never breaking his fighting stance. He reached his opponent and sent a flurry of concentrated and more focused punches, aimed at the center body mass. Jason was in a stance so that if his opponent began to back up he could simply follow him and keep the flurry of punches going, fist over fist in a very straight-forward, punishing fashion.

The style of fighting was based off of combinations of fast and furious punches. It only had one true offensive attack, the forward, center body-mass punch, with each fist going forward, then pulling back slight under the next fist which punched forward as well, creating a fist over fist forward momentum punch that was very swift and if left unattended, was devastating. ( Fun-Fact: The first fighting style that Bruce Lee learned! ) However, the real benefit to this style was the attention balance and its more defensive function called Sticky Hands. It was designed so that Jason can almost immediately switch to defense and send his fists flying in to block his opponents counter strikes, and then go right back to punching again. A true master of the art was said to be unbeatable.

Jason was no master of the art, but he’d been able to learn how to use this style well enough, and it had won his several battles in the past. Jason was interested to see how Mikau would stand up against this much more measured, tactical, and “careful” attack.

[Alexander]

Mikau controlled his breathing at a more slow and suitable pace, as to conserve the energy he had left. The Dark Jedi hadn't thought about it, but his opponent was right, running would tire him out. But then again, Mikau knew if he didn't run, the fight would be over quickly.

Sweat beat down his head as Mikau slowly and clumsily stepped back to avoid his approaching opponent. He used the Force subtly to aid in his concentration for the upcoming attack, seeing as his opponent's efforts were now more concentrated; moreover, his attacks would probably be difficult to block, if evadable at all.

As his opponent came closer, Mikau filled his body with Force concentration, against the will of his opponent. The punches came in a quick but precise flurry; thus Mikau was only able to block two. The first punch came, and Mikau dodged sideways, turning his body a good ninety degrees, then came down with his left arm, blocking the arm of his opponent. The second punch hit him square perfectly in the side, causing Mikau to lose his balance, and fumble backwards. As his opponent sent more punches, one struck him in the chest, and another barely missed as Mikau attempted to turn again.

The young Dark Jedi shut his eyes and concentrated, reaching out with the Force. In an almost dancelike motion, Mikau evaded two more of the assaults, becoming fluid, almost like water. (Fun Fact: Though I'm sure you recognized it, this is Bruce Lee's Jeet Kune Do... my favorite fighting style. :3) Eyes closed, he reached out with the Force to evade two more, but another hit him in the chest, breaking his concentration, and Mikau tripped backwards, his eyes opening wide. He fell clumsily to the ground and rolled left, catching his breath intensely.

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

Jason stepped back, satisfied with his opponents trip to the floor. He smiled and took a defensive stance, allowing Mikau to stand. Jason was impressed with Mikau's dodging; it was good form, and the new focus it brought. Of course, that was probably the Force, but Mikau hadn't used so much force that it'd made Jason angry.

"Get up." Jason said, "The crowd ain't done with us yet."

He put his arms up in front of them, showing that he wanted Mikau to attack.

[Alexander]

(OOC: thought maybe we could make the post a little more interesting! )

Mikau controlled his breathing again, making sure his expendable energy didn't go over a limit that would fatigue him to a point where his fighting would get clumsy. While indeed, Mikau knew it was a vain fight from the start, the young dark Jedi planned on drawing it on as long as possible. He sighed heavily and parted his feet, but lowered his hands as the opponent mocked towards him, beckoning him to attack.

"The crowd wants more?" Mikau chuckled just loudly enough for his opponent to hear. "No," he laughed aloud, "I'm not in this for the crowd's pleasure. I'm in this because I have to be. And if I can get out of it alive, I do plan on it." With that, he shut his eyes and concentrated, delving deep inside of him to search for the Force energy that had previously aided him. He meditated hard, bringing all of the Force energy he had to surge through his body and energize him.

"Now, die!" Mikau yelled, and surged his left arm forward, sending a wave of highly concentrated Force energy shooting out of his palm in the form of a powerful Force push. The crowd's cheering died a little, changing into gasps, then back into cheering... but for which side, Mikau couldn't tell. He braced himself for his punishment.

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

Jason was still grinning as Mikau got up and replied. He didn't care what Mikau said or did, it was all just semantics. Jason didn't even care about mocking him; he hardly cared about this fight anymore, he was sure he'd win. Until he felt the force energy in front of him. Mikau held out a hand, and the force exploded in a push. Jason felt the energy all around him as though a big man, a massive man, were suddenly and inexplicably tackling him. It took Jason right off his feet, through the air and back into the wall of the pit.

Jason felt his head crack against the concrete, he felt an explosion of pain. He hit the floor, more pain. He looked down and shook his head, slightly disoriented. He reached toward the back of his head and his hand was wet. He was bleeding. Jason stared between Mikau and his own bloody hand, and images of his hands being covered in blood, the blood of young kids just like Mikau ( minus the force ) and some even younger, filled his head. He saw the Exchange flash through his mind; his wife; his father; his mother; his former master; himself.

Mikau. Mikau had broken the rules. Not just Jason's rules, but the fight rules. Jason had already won the fight, Mikau had just forfeit. But that wasn't the point. Jason had said not to do it. He had. Now Jason was wiping the blood off the back of his head and flashing through all of his hated memories. Memories he spent all day and all night forgetting, and that little punk had pissed him off and forced him to remember.

Jason felt ill for a moment. He felt a pull, a tug, a twitch. His body had a few seconds of spasms. He looked down at the concrete.

Emptiness.

His breathing intensified. His hear-rate intensified. His anger amplified. He wasn't Jason much longer. He looked up at Mikau and was a much different Beast altogether.

In a second he was up on his feet, his shoulders wide and feet spread, locked in place. With one quick motion he summoned as much force power as he could and tried to yank Mikau toward him, try to send him flying in at face level so that Jason could reel back and punch him in the face as hard as he could as Mikau passed by him. Jason was enraged, and he didn't just want to hurt Mikau, he wanted him to suffer.

[Alexander]

As the man flew back and hit the wall, the crowd absolutely went silent. There was not a clap or a cheer anymore, at least, not after the crack of his opponent's head against the concrete wall on the back of the pit. Mikau lowered his arm finally, almost as if making sure that his attack had worked, and smiled, flashing a few teeth towards his opponent who wasn't even looking.

The Dark Jedi chuckled. He slowly paced over towards his confused and bashed opponent. "Do you understand?" he said quietly, still laughing, "what I am? You can't tell me how to fight this fight." Mikau stopped for a moment, burring his feet in the ground. He parted his arms and legs, ready for the attack that was surely to come.

However, what happened then, was highly unexpected in Mikau's eyes. Almost quicker than sound itself, the man was up, back on his feet, almost as if Mikau's Force barrage had done nothing. Mikau gasped and his eyes gaped open as he drew his arms backwards and took a step or two back as well. This man was clearly insane... not what Mikau had expected in any way... Damnit! Mikau thought. But the dark Jedi laughed anyway.

Then the man outstretched his bloody arm and yanked Mikau back with an intense pull, probably with more strength than his push. Mikau gasped and yelled as he flew through the air towards his opponent, but concentrated just enough to twitch his body in the air to slightly avoid the punch coming from his opponent. The punch missed where it would have been most dangerous, but still hit him; unfortunately, the punch caught him straight in the shoulder, sending Mikau's body twisting and flipping past the opponent.

Mikau hit the wall with enough force to confuse him, but not enough to break the concrete at all. He staggered as he quickly got up and began to run; however, just as he began his escape, the door to the pit burst open and guards armed with blaster rifles entered. Mikau used the Force once more to push one of them back, but the others all assaulted Mikau with a stun-set shot. Mikau fell backwards and the world faded quickly from his vision. He hit the ground with a hard thud.

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

Jason felt his fist collide with Mikau's body, and he felt the pure and utter satisfaction shudder through his body. His grin went wide. Mikau went flipping and hurled into the wall. Not the effect he'd wanted, but good enough! He spun on his heel and started after Mikau.

The younger Dark Jedi recovered quickly and began to retreat. Wise. Jason was still flashing a madman's grin, about to force pull Mikau toward him once again when the loud bang of the door appeared and armed guards started flooding in.

The sudden appearance and loud noise brought Jason to a sudden realization of what was going on. He looked around for a moment. He quickly became aware of what had just happened. Jason's cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. He looked down at the concrete floor in shame, and took a sitting position. Several of the guards came toward him as well, but since he did not struggle, he was not shot.

Jason put his hands up, "I'm sorry, kid..." He whispered. He had threatened Mikau earlier, but never actually meant to kill the kid. The Beast...it had wanted to, and certainly would have if nobody had interfered. If he hadn't realized what was going on, more than Mikau may have died as well.

The guards escorted both fighters away, Jason through one exit, Mikau, with a stretcher, through another.

~*~

Jason approached the pit lord, a slimy Hutt named Jursa'em,
"My payment, please."

The Hutt spoke gruffly, gesticulating with arms that clearly indicated unhappiness, though Jason couldn't understand him. The translator droid quickly jumped in, "Jursa'em protests your payment. He does not feel as though you should be payed, after all you broke the rules of engagement."

"My opponent broke the rules first." Jason snarled, reaching to the back of his head where a white bandage was wrapped, "Not I."

"But you gave the audience quite a scare, as well, we had not known you were a force user when you started out here." The droid translated.

"You hadn't asked." Jason felt uncomfortable. He didn't want this conflict and attention, he just wanted to get payed and to leave, "And the audience got more action that they typically do. Not every day you get to see two opponents send each other across the room. Unless your fighting Wampas. I just want my pay."

The Hutt contemplated for a moment, then made a deal, speaking in a more calm and nonchalant fashion, "Jursa'em concedes the point. He will pay you 250 credits."

Jason's eyes widened. That was a rip-off. The fight was for 500, he should be getting more. Jason was about to get angry, but memories of the Exchange shut him up. He didn't want to make more noise than he already had, "This is...acceptable." Jason said, doing a quick bow, though a deep scowl crossed his face when the Hutt could not see.

With that, Jason left the room.

~*~

He returned to the 'recovery room' after he got his pay. A Rodian playing medic examined him for a few moments, "Any broken bones?" Jason asked, "Knuckles? Head? Ribs?"

The Rodian looked for a long moment at his back, then gave it a quick and hard slap. Jason gave the Rodian a funny look, but was otherwise unperturbed, then the Rodian gave a thumbs up and said, "Ribs fine I guess."

Jason took a seat on one of the beds. He looked at the door to the other half of the recovery room, "Is my opponent in there?"

The rodian nodded.

"Is he awake?"

The rodian shrugged.

"Hmph." Jason folded his arms and said, "Tell me when he is."

[Alexander]

Mikau's dreams-- or rather, his nightmares-- were full of all the things he feared the most... his recognition, yet again, of himself slaying his master in cold blood... the beautiful woman that he had killed as well, his starting point down the Dark road... and most essentially, Mikau's fights on Felucia, and his encounters with the fellow Dark Jedi Jarod...

Quickly, the young Dark Jedi awoke, and his first sight was out the window. Wherever he was, it was nighttime, and it was pouring rain. The airspeeder traffic was at a minimum at this time, and for whatever reason, that relaxed Mikau. He sighed heavily, which induced a severe coughing spit, and then relaxed, closing his eyes. He rested his arms behind his head and began to whistle.

He wasn't free, and he was sure of that. His lightsaber... The Force knew where he lightsaber was, for he sure did not. The thing had been taken from him, and it was probably long gone at this point... and he was, more than likely, still hutt property. The young Dark Jedi, now impatient, sighed again, and waited a few moments, listening to the pounding rain of the airspeeder traffic.

Then, he felt-- rather than heard-- a presence enter the medical lobby, where the receptionist began a conversation with him. Chills were shot down Mikau's spine as he recognized the voice of the entrant: his former opponent, from that day. The thought made all of his wounds hurt even more, but despite it all, Mikau laughed. As he heard the questions between the two, Mikau reached out with the force...

He found the door, which was at the front of the room, past the shroud that hid Mikau's bed. Through the Force, Mikau located the lock on the door... a simple deadbolt lock, easily moved; thus, Mikau did with the Force, causing the deadbolt to fly forward in position, which in turn surged the door wide open with a fury against the wall behind it. Mikau laughed quietly to himself... even on his possible death-bed, he was still attempting to insert fear into his former opponent.

He sighed loudly once more, and called out, eyes still closed, "I'm awake."

[Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice*]

Jason's head suddenly swiveled, reacting to the noise of the door as it slammed open. He was up in an instant, "I'm awake."

Jason did nothing at first. He was unsure of what he wanted to do at first, or how he wanted to react. Slowly he walked forward, stopping at the door. He reached out and closed it behind him. He walked over to a chair in the room and sat down, putting his foot up on his leg, "I guess your Master never imagined you would need subtlety." Jason told him with a slight smirk.

He didn't know why he was being nice to Mikau, but he felt like he needed to. The whole situation reminded him of his own situation, in a life a long time ago, when Jason had lost a fight of his own against a man named Artemis Entreri. Jason had been fighting for freedom that day as well. The prize money he would have earned would get him out of there.

Artemis had given him advice and helped him out of a tough spot. Artemis was more Jason's father than the one who had born him.

"What happened?" He asked, "Why the chains and the long-face?"