Still Standing - Bron Doru Trailer

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The Trailer
Bron crashed to the floor in a heap, as his trusted weapon Bombard slid away from him in the dirt. Bron grunted as pain rippled across his already tired body. The sun was beating down hard now as the hours passed to midday and Bron was struggling to keep it together. His body ached all over, his muscles were burning from being over used, his sight was being blurred by the torrent of sweat pouring down his brow and he could feel his power leaving him. Bron could hear the laughter now, the mocking laughter of his opponents and he scowled. He struggled to even look up.

“Well this is disappointing” spoke the harsh voiced tutor of Bron “Not even worthy of Signal, let alone Beacon” Bron barred his teeth and panted heavily. He crawled to Bombard, scrapping across the dust covered arena floor, even under the mocking laughter of his opponents.

“That’s it, keep crawling on your belly you coward” shouted the larger of his opponents, shouldering his heavy sword. Bron ignored them and grasped the long shaft of Bombard, pulling himself to his knees painfully.

He didn’t notice his only female opponent step forward with a sigh, placing a heavy boot on Bombard’s large axe head. Bron clenched his teeth, as she stopped him from raising Bombard. She leant down to look him in the eyes with cruel eyes.

“Do us all a favour Bron” she began mockingly “Stay down. This axe isn’t coming up again” she glared at Bron’s bright yellow eyes and snorted a laugh as he looked away. “Pathetic” she muttered to herself, shaking her head as looked to her three teammates. Bron didn’t move, but stared at the dust covered arena floor, he was finished in their eyes.

The girl went to walk away from Bron, when she heard what could only be laughter. It low, barely audible but she was certain it was laughter. Looking to Bron now, his body was glowing like shining bronze and she drove her foot harder down on the axe head. “What’s so funny?” she asked irritated, narrowing her eyes at the beaten figure. He was laughing louder now and looked up at her with a harsh smile. “Boom” he said with a raise of his eyebrows and the ground erupted. The whole time he was being mocked, Bron’s brain was working overtime. He wasn’t strong, but he was smart and persistent. As soon as attention was taken away from him, he primed the trigger piece of Bombard, waiting for the precise moment that was eventually granted to him. Pulling the trigger, an explosion of bronze dust erupted around the arena floor, launching Bron and his female opponent across the arena. The two of them soared through the air, but whilst Bron’s opponent was tossed against the hard stone wall like a rag doll, Bron had made perfect use of his heavy semblance and dragged himself to a grinding halt on the arena. His arms rung like a gong, as his bronze semblance grinded him to a halt. He panted as he felt his semblance fade and the stiffness course through his body. He panted heavily as the dust cleared and the last three opponents charged headlong, anger painted on their faces. Bron eased himself into a low battle stance, his pole arm Bombard pulled across him defensively. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer, but he wasn’t going to stop now. Not whilst he could still stand. The fastest opponent fell on him with dual knives, which he spun with lethal efficiency. Bron deflected the attacks and drove him back with a wide sweep of Bombard’s heaviest axe head. The next opponent dove forward with a lance aimed for Bron’s throat and he was thrown back. He shifted quickly on his feet and side stepped the next lunge, driving the butt of Bombard into the boy’s foot. He howled loudly and was too slow to stop the cleaving swing of Bombard. He slid across the floor and under the leaping figure of his faster comrade. The daggers dove for Bron’s exposed points and Bron struggled to keep to time with every blow that found its way past his guard. Moving in close, Bron dropped low and kicked his opponent in the gut, driving him back. He then stepped in past the boy’s guard and drove the flat of his axe head onto the boy’s skull, knocking him out cold. Bron stooped and panted, leaning on Bombard like a crutch. He went to congratulate himself when realisation bit him like a bullet. There had been four opponents. Spinning on his heels, the last thing Bron remembers seeing was the huge, bulging fist striking his face and knocking him out cold.

Bron woke to find himself in a familiar setting, the infirmary. He sighed as he sat up, feeling a burning pain searing the left side of his face. ‘Another black eye for the collection’ he thought to himself, trying to prop himself up on shaky arms. He looked around the sterile white room and noticed no one had come to see him as usual, not even the nurse was here.

He sighed again and looked sadly out the window at the setting sun. It was a beautiful sight indeed, with a navy sky and clouds that bled orange light. Forgetting his pain, he sat and watched the sun fall. It was here he made a single vow. He would get to Beacon and things would be different. He wouldn’t be victimised anymore, he would be the hero he wanted to be and not the one others thought he couldn’t be. As the sun disappeared, Bron hobbled to his room alone and rested himself for the following day of torment.