The Ward of the Living

Due to royal circumstance, Zuqetta's fight in round one of the tournament had come to an end. It had been a rather anticlimactic conclusion, but it was understandable; while participation in a tournament might have been fun, when business pops up for a King, then it obviously take priority. Vocado, acting as Taori's guard, had followed after his King; and Zuqetta and Portobello had been declared the victors. Now, having separated momentarily from Portobello, Zuqetta found herself attempting to enjoy the intermission before her next fight would take place.

"Let's see here..." Zuqetta would mutter as she leaned against the wall in a far off, secluded corner; looking over the pamphlet she held in her hand of the tournament brackets, "One side pits me against the bot and the cat, the other against a couple of... humans?" Zuqetta would question before giving a heavy sigh, "Well, the winner seems obvious ta me; at least, assuming he WANTS ta win." She'd finish before putting the pamphlet in her pocket and giving a heavy sigh as she looked around; having disregarded the announce results after her match had been concluded.

She found herself in a contemplative mood in an otherwise, avoided location far behind the coliseum. There were no vendors, fans, sightseer's or the like; not even a worker that one could call upon for assistance. Other than the occasional passing guard, it was an otherwise quiet area, and a fair place to gather ones thoughts.

"That damned King..." Zuqetta would mutter as she slumped against the wall and sat on the ground, "And Vocado, damn it, gettin' that last hit." She'd continue with a heavy sigh as she looked upwards toward the sky.

She held no worry about her next fight, though she knew that she'd mostly be fighting alone considering the strength of her ally; if anything, what worried her more would be how the finals would go, though she honestly hadn't expected to get through round one in such a manner anyways. She had wanted a fight, and she was getting one; Vocado had landed his second blaster attack against her, and she was ready to retaliate, but then... nothing... Business had taken the two of her opponents and the fight was declared over; at least the kitty cat hadn't been injured, Taori had the strength to have ended her instantly after all, and the will to do so if the start of the fight was anything to go off of.

"That business had better have been important." Zuqetta would say lowly with a yawn; still pretty tired from that morning jog with Portobello, and now even more so since her fight had such an ending, "Almost got the blood pumpin' there... almost."

Her final words to the two as they had left the fight; see you again soon. It hadn't been a threat, or even a casual goodbye; it was a promise, one she intended to hold fast to the moment the tournament was over. Not having the opportunity to gauge their strength further was disappointing, but that wouldn't stop her from fulfilling her personal intention. As that intention came to mind however, Zuqetta couldn't help but laugh.

"Heheh, thanks for the motivation, Ward." Zuqetta would whisper to herself as she remembered the harsh words the short stature 'god' had spoke when last they met, "If not for you, I dunno where I'd be right now."

While his words hadn't been anything too meaningful, it had been his demeanor and unwillingness to put up with a child's sour personality that had snapped her out of her funk back then. While all other around her like Zerori and Zriracha had taken to spoiling her, Ward had taken a stern tone; laying down the facts as they stood, and disregarding the personal matters she dealt with. Zuqetta had changed since then; both in appearance and in personality. There were better things to do than lament ones of failings, and bigger threats to contend with than the big, bad King of the Saiyans.

Silently, Zuqetta would offer a telepathic thank you through her mind; though it wasn't sent to anyone specifically. The message would simply fly out into the ether, only capable of being grasped by someone with a similar technique. With that in mind, Zuqetta thought of it somewhat like a prayer of sorts; she was sure a 'god' would enjoy a prayer of thanks every now and then.