Alrik had to improve. He had to get better, every day, or else he was never gonna be ready, he was never gonna get what he wanted. He'd fought Carja. He'd lost. He'd fought James, and in a sense, he lost something that he needed. A lead, a hint, a clue, an ability to respect James and an idea of how to... it wasn't using was it? It didn't matter, Alrik supposed. He had to have what he wanted, and if that meant others had to help, then that was just how the world would turn out.

He was the center of gravity, all things drawn to him. And what would the world do without that center? Die. Exactly! And we couldn't have that.

So Alrik called for someone to challenge him. "COME AN' GET CLOBBERED BY ME, ALRIK, IF YOU DARE!"

((OOC: Come beat up my kitty please :,3))

AAAAAAAND no one came.

CRAP!

"FINE THEN! RUN AWAY, COWARDS!!" All hail King Alrik, the MIGHTIEST! They RAN IN TERROR AT HIS NAME!!!

And now he would run in TRIUMPH, probably to take a nap or something go search for an opponent elsewhere. Improvement was a necessity.

- exit -