HEADLOW

it’s pure arrogance at work: as yakone watches spectators stream into the arena, he can’t help but think their money’s worth would be better found elsewhere. it’s hard to enjoy the real deal once you’ve seen the shit that goes down at central city station underground, but when he’s got a fat sum of wagers tucked in the books for tonight, he might as well just sit back and enjoy the show because who the fuck knows. there’s something in the air that’s telling him, maybe, just maybe, the tides’ll turn. 

and it all happens sooner than he can so much as blink. 

yakone doesn’t care to look down his row—not at first, anyway. but then the figure moves down one seat, then two, and when she brushes by, he gazes up and freezes, because she too is staring back at him in pure, unadulterated bewilderment and for perhaps the first time in his life, he’s at a loss for words because ursa? here?