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"A pleasure to meet you, lady."

It always strikes him odd as to how people can tell the symptoms from a mere glance or sense....yet...

"....?" Snow looked at Kemaile increduously, unable to fathom what she is referring to in being too young. Snow wasn't thinking about anything much at all (Who would, with an amputated arm?) -- he's shy when talking or interacting with females, case closed.

He laid back as ordered, laying against the bed, and then it struck him how soft the furniture was. Living outside has changed him more into a wild beast (ergo, talking to himself from time to time, being too observant of things, that the sort) but it didn't occur to him the roughness of the ground, or the hard surface of the tree....

He flinched whenever she poked, as if reacting to the skin being sensitive to the touch (ticklish). "Right..." He said softly, wondering what stuff she is using, and what the man is doing to his stump arm as of now....

"I'm not getting any ideas, but you're implying some ideas..." A half protest, but Snow turned his head to the side to avoid staring rudely at Kemaile, closing his eyes to ignore the temptation. He'll admit that the fluid is relaxing the stiff muscles, and her actions are....are.....

Never mind.

The sudden dislocation of the finger did send a jolt of pain up his shoulder, and he flinched, reaching with his left to rube the sore spot adjacent to the severed shoulder. Its a way to relocate the pain elsewhere other than the main source, and for Snow, he'll have to manage.

".....Is that a good thing or bad thing, Mr....?"

Shoot. He didn't even catch the man's name yet.

Marcelo?

Odd. He knew another man which was affiliated with the same name, though the impression....
He must be thinking too much.

"...Are you an Alchemist?" He questioned. If Raphael has deep knowledge on the field of Alchemy, then maybe perchance, he can share some knowledge of his own with Raphael, and enlighten himself further with the study.....


Snow turned his attention back to Kemaile. Not totally in league with white magic, his body initially tried to reject the healing powers before it succumbed and allowed the magic to do its work, even with its affiliation to both spectrums of Arcane studies. Her question posed a sudden question inside him.

Why am I here? A good question.
What am I doing here...?

".....I don't know. It's probably because I want to...prove myself, since I'm a...."

Hybrid.

"...Well....I come from the East, near the winter mountains. I've seen a lot of things during my travels, I've experienced a lot of things during my life..."

He stared up at the ceiling with a sigh.

"I..think, that I'm here because, partly, I want to show that even the weak can be a formidable foe. And, not to mention the money...even travelling requires expenses in order to traverse from place to place. Besides -- I want to test myself here, so I can learn and become stronger....
....Corny, isn't it? This...thought....heh.."

"....."

Snow, despite the random outburst by Lee/Raphael or whatever he wants to call himself, calmly pulled his shirt over the head, dressing back the clothings and such.

"As you wish. If you don't need me to know what you are, then you certainly don't need to know what I am."

As if being a werewolf is bad enough, Snow was more affilated with something that rivals, even prevails over the curse of a Lycan. He got up, looking at the two for a moment. Was it sadness in his eyes, or softness that dampened his expression? Whatever the cause, he looked over at Kemaile, then back at Raphael. Watching. Observing. The bonds uncomfortably loosened, the meaning behind each word irrelevant to hide, to ignore the fear between the two....

Snow sighed, seeing no need to rebuke such words back and forth. A little envious, perhaps? Since Raphael does have someone to talk to in times of need.....

Is it really.........hm.

"...At least you have someone to share your pain with, Raphael. Don't lose those that have been there for you..."

He closed his eyes, shifting his attention elsewhere.

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[ Message temporarily off-line ]

He intercepted Milky's train of thought instantly, looking away and staring down at the pit, maybe if Milky observed closely enough he'd notice that curious stare had disappeared, his green eyes darting sharply from left to right, as if imagining a much more fierce battle, his lips peeling back and revealing a rather devilish grin, but alas, it all faded, his voice reverted to stoic, his skin draining slightly paler as the blood rushed away from his face, and he blinked innocently. He exhaled hard, and lent back, taking a few steps away from the balcony edge. "Some of these people need much more than a spanking Milky." He spoke a little bitterly, raising right gloved hand and pulling the glove on tighter, curling his hand into a fist, a few of the joints in his fingers and knuckles popping quietly "Some of them deserve to be killed." He grinned behind his high-pulled scarf, leering down at Milky for a moment before allowing his hands to fall to his sides. He had intentions, he had order, and above all, he had some bitches to put in place.

As Milky went on, he listened in the silent night air and nodded, his grin fading as quickly as it came, his arms folding, his right hand raising up and pulling his hat from his head, and as it came down, yanking his scarf down to allow the full face of the young man, Lusik Grey, to feel the gentle breeze. He spoke his words slowly, with delicate thought and clarity of words, making his point certain, and clear. "We start when our brackets are ready. I am awaiting the match ups in my bracket, I will be starting shortly." He nodded slowly, he had taken on a whole new person in those few moments, oddly wise and careful to think, a complete contrast to his fast and reckless life style. "I don't intend to kill anyone in this tournament unless I have to, I think I'd much rather put them into a forfeit and have someone to challenge at a later date. Though you heard me right earlier, some of these people will die, and it's not like I'm going to lose sleep over it." He grinned, in those few short seconds his wise appearance had gone, and he had reverted back to the same old Lusik.

"You kill as you please Milky, but keep in mind who you are fighting for. Are you fighting for Chess to spread a name, or for yourself to push yourself harder? I'd like to think the latter myself." He smiled briefly, his eyes catching the moon light as he glanced at it, and then he glanced back down. Putting his trilby hat back on his head, and pulling his woollen scarf up, he gazed at Milky. "We start when our brackets start, wish me luck as I'll be the first in Chess to join the fray. But for now, I'm going to inspect the arena." He turned slowly on his heel, his arms swaying gently as his sides as he took simple, short strides towards the nearest set of stairs, his leather coat swaying at his heels and following the motion of his walk.

Trebuchet walked on, his massive 21ft frame crushing all underfoot with his entire six tons. The tree he carried bounced along behind him, slung from his shoulders, a single creature that had been living within it rather... angered by the tree having been displaced. His speed was blinding as he seemed to dance along the branches of the tree, passing up through the air to land a strike to the back of the giant's head with his foot. The pillar of strength stumbled forward from the blow, but his hand rapidly rose and the tree went flying, rolling out into the gravel parking lot and crushing a Hummer H2. Whirling about he threw them man from his back, but he landed softly, plants beginning to spring up in rapid growth around his feet.

With a thrust off the ground he was luanched into the air, a series of vines rising up to entagle the jolly green giant. They began wrapping around his arms and dragging him down as the mysterious man slammed into his forehead, doing little real damage, but pushing him back and disrupting his balance. He stumbled back, snapping several vines and tripping over the tree he had brought. Crashing the the ground a Spyder was crushed like an arachnid underfoot. That's going to piss somebody off.

Standing upon the now trapped giant's chest the man of the forest seemed to have a face etched from granite, all color devoid from its reaches until the flurry of hair ran back from his scalp in brown tones with two green streaks flowing through it. His clothing seemed to be much like a peasant's clothing, strips of odd bark sewn into the fabric. Two sais of a metallic brown substance were tucked over his wrists and something resembling wristguards while a third was held in his grip, pointing to the giant man. He smirked, "Humble thyself and return unto mother nature this wonderous pillar of strength. Should you not, your life will be forfeit." Darting back towards the forest he seemed to fade into the trees.