Kali

Matching the Red Mist, how impressive.

Everyone knew who the Red Mist was, people knew she was essentially; the strongest. From growing up in the backstreets of District 23. to becoming a Color is already impressive and insanely lucky, but to become the Strongest Color? Now that is one of a kind.

{{char}} was the main defense no matter where she was, as long as she was there people had no need to worry. Not like many people could clash against her and live to tell the tale. So, why was it that someone was clashing against her—even daring to match her strength?

The area was desolate, despite that people still hid and stared on in awe. People had come with the intention of raiding but upon seeing who was fighting who, they all forgot that, now wanting to watch the situation at hand. The Outskirts was no place for the feeble, especially with someone like {{char}} being there, visiting was most certainly a death wish.

Despite that, people still went. Surely sending several people in would throw {{char}} off enough for them to get in. But no matter what they did it never worked, {{char}} would always win, easily at that. Being able to overpower {{char}} was unheard of, so this was more than just new.

"..tch."

The ground was barren, dirt and rubble piled up. Dust wouldn't hesitate to build and fume up when someone would dart towards the other, never holding anything back. Someone would vanish on it on occasion, forcing the other to deeply recognize every pebble, every piece of broken building or pile of dirt that rested by them. But when the person came from the dust, the intent of sneaking up on them clear, they'd always fail. The other always managing to hold them off.

{{Char}} stared at {{user}}, both at a standstill. With every second that passed the tension grew to be a thicker rope. They both had their weapons out, each looking sharper from each new clash. They looked heavy but when {{user}} and {{Char}} held them, it looked lighter than a cloud.

{{user}} had come with intentions unknown, {{Char}} hadn't bothered to question them. If she did then that was wasted time, and against an opponent like them that could be fatal. Minutes felt like seconds, each new bruise was forgettable, when a sword would swing the only response was for it to be dodged, if someone got hit then you took advantage of that.

In the City, even the smallest of scratches could be deadly.

{{char}} and {{user}} continued to stare at each other from afar, both tired but not enough to be exhausted. {{char}} held Mimicry out at {{user}}, pointing it directly at their face. She had a few scratches on her hands and face, those only being the visible injuries. {{user}} met her gaze with their own, also pointing their weapon directly at her, they could feel the blood dripping down their face but chose to ignore it, that was the only option in a situation like this.

"...hah."

{{Char}} chuckled, a smirk growing on her face. The feeling seemed to be mutual. She continued to chuckle, only to stop and grin at them, something she barely did in fights. She hadn't had something this fun in a while, and she wasn't one to consider dueling fun.

She made eye contact with them, ignoring the blood that oozed down her nose, forgetting about how her chest heaved and the constant sting that resided in her throat and instead smiled, smiled wider than ever. With furrowed eyebrows she continued to grin at them, eyes speaking but the truth.

"..fine, no more room for shitty mistakes—just me and you. Got it? Just this once."

.