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 Posted: Sat May 03, 2008 8:33 am
The speeds at which the woman was traveling at on the wind in her mist form were up in the hundred miles per hour. Of course, she never traveled this fast before in this form. She flew through the hotel door and began turning back into herself before she stopped. When her feet touched the floor, she stumbled and fell into Saphen. Her bag on her back came up behind her and hit her in the head. She swung the bag off her back and searched for a pocket in the jacket. "There." She said to herself, tucking it in a bottom pocket. Although the jacket didn't look poofy from the bag, so obviously the jacket was magic, or she was. Finally, she looked up to acknowledge the man she had stumbled into. "Sorry." Her voice was light and airy as she spoke to Saphen.
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Posted: Sat May 03, 2008 3:40 pm
+Suite 400+
Knock
Knock
Knock...
Hearing the door knock three times Jack put the cigarette out which was in his mouth and headed off the deck and into his suite. Along the way to the door he picked up a shirt and slipped it on, keeping the buttons undone at the time. With that he opened the door to his suite. On the other side stood a man of about six feet in size. He wore a plain white shirt, a pair of gray jeans, a pair of black and gray converse shoes, and a black back pack.
"Trey, come in."
Stepping away from the door the man known as Trey stepped into the room and looked around the place. Closing the door behind the young looking man Jack locked the door and followed after Trey.
"So ya came?"
Trey stopped and turned to face Jack and grinned.
"Of course I came, why would I miss out on a chance to get stronger?"
Chuckling softly Jack nodded and pulled up a seat from the nearby desk. It was a pretty nice chair, leather padding and black painted wood. Pretty nice in Jacks standards, and of course Trey's. Sitting down on the seat Jack smiled.
"Good, Good. Take a seat there."
He motioned to the bed beside Trey. Trey in turn sat down on the bed and removed his bag, setting it on the floor at his feet.
"So, Trey Stevens. You wanna learn how to get stronger, use powers you only dreamed of from where you came from? Correct? Well I can help you with that. Well I think I can. I've only once trained another person, but they turned out fine. But that was only for a short time, this time it will be for what looks to be a while. So tell me, are ya ready?"
Jack gave Trey no time at all to respond till the end in which Jack stopped talking. Taking a deep breath Trey nodded before speaking again.
"I am ready."
Grinning Jack stood up and put his right hand out to Trey for a handshake. Treys hand came up also and the two shook hands. This was the beginning of training a normal human in the use of powers he has only read about in books. Is it even possible to teach a human such things? Well only time will tell...
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Posted: Sat May 03, 2008 6:43 pm
::Oh balls, the Orinian first thought.
He was standing across the street before the hotel, clearly having travelled quite a way. Heavily clad, he hid an opened button-down red shirt and a fitted black tank underneath a long black coat. A sturdy belt held up his dark jeans, the legs of which collected into wrinkles around his thick boots. The stranger looked no older than seventeen, tall, lanky and rather pale. He looked like he didn't get a lot of sun. Long black hair was pressed against the back of his neck by a wide-brimmed hat he had on, which - along with a red bandana and peculiar eyeglasses - effectively masked his face.
A large, heavy-looking bag was slung around his right arm, the same hand holding the strap steady while his left held an envelope. It was wrinkled beyond the point of no return, no longer holding any of the firmness it had when it'd struck him in the face several days ago. How did that happen anyway, he puzzled silently.
His hidden eyes swayed back and forth betwixt the address on the letter and the massive structure before him. Why so flashy? This was going to take some getting used to. The crowd at the front of the building alone was looking to be a hassle. It was his hope that - not being well known - nobody would ask him any questions. Reporters never were any fun. Stuffing the letter into a pocket within his coat, the tall youth stepped forward and through relatively stilled traffic. Walking took more effort, but if Gaian traffic was so bad everywhere, taking a taxi would've taken longer.
Deity weaved through the cars and trucks and again stepped onto the sidewalk, making his way through the crowd to the entrance of the hotel. He felt dozens of eyes upon him but none of them held any fascination. He was a nobody, and he liked it that way - rewarding the curious wouldn't help to maintain his comfort zone. A few people spoke but Deity intentionally tuned them out. He wasn't here for publicity so he had no need to talk or answer questions. He just shoved and pushed his way through the herd until he reached the portal. Pushing the doors open he stepped inside, his legs feeling a bit lighter now that his didn't have a mass of media to trudge through.
The silent stranger stepped up to the front desk where a woman was waiting for him. Without a word he presented his ticket, which he pulled from his left back pocket. The lady examined it briefly before handing him a keycard. Seven-seven-seven, he thought to himself, reading the number on the card. The woman at the desk wished him a restful night; Deity nodded once, raising the card as he did. 'Thanks' came to his mind, but not his lips. With that he turned and headed for the elevator. Pressing the button, he waited a few moments before the doors opened. There was a little man inside wearing a suit and a nametag. He smiled cordially and greeted the Orinian with an outstretched hand. As he stepped in, Deity waved lazily and pushed the button for his floor.
The gentleman next to him clearly felt uneasy in his two failed attempts to start conversation, and the tall stranger could hear the sigh of relief coming when the elevator came to a stop and Deity disembarked. Gaians tended to be too chatty at times. The hallway Deity stepped into was blissfully silent. It smelled comfortable, too, as if nobody had passed through for a little while. Keycard in hand, he moved through the hall until he found the door. He repeated himself outloud.::
Seven-seven-seven...
::Grasping the handle with one hand and sliding the card through the slot with the other, he pushed the door open and stepped in. It was big for a bedroom, but that was fine. Still, it would be good to rest up before the matches started. Sighing softly through his nose, the boy shrugged the bag from his shoulder, catching the strap as he stepped out of the way and closed the door.
A moment later the door opened again, one hand reaching out to adorn the doorhandle with a 'Do Not Disturb' sign.::
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Posted: Sun May 04, 2008 11:23 am
The door to room 1150 opened once again a short time later. For the moment it was open all that could be seen was darkness. As if the lights were casting shadows instead of light. From this darkness several quick moving black shapes raced off in different directions. Some to the stairs some to windows some through ventilation shafts and one or two squeezed through the closed elevator doors. Following the disbursement the door shut.
On the roof one of the dark shapes stopped over looking the incoming fighters.
Another stopped at the arena.
Several more stopped at locations around the hotel. Eateries, the pool, recreational areas, the gardens, etc.
Spyke stood against the wall in the lobby watching people come and go. The Ogre, the silent young man, the child, and several others. Few of them remained in the lobby longer than it took to retrieve their key and head to the stairs or elevation. Among these were a woman who ran into a familiar bard. Spyke had seen the man with the mandolin before. He was a comrade of sorts to Spyke's only living relation. He in particular Spyke was looking forward to fighting. Who his sibling aligned himself with greatly interested Spyke. However Spyke made no move to make contact. He merely watching the fighters stream in one after another.
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Posted: Sun May 04, 2008 1:21 pm
Murdoch would exit his room, vase in mouth. Yummy, he would head out towards the opening ceremonies.
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Posted: Sun May 04, 2008 6:03 pm
You cannot ******** stop me!
I will keep fighting!!
You would have at least thought that they would have covered all the expenses one would have gained by buying food in the few days that would herald the beginning of the tournament. Tres didn't arrive early, he didn't have the money to do such a thing.
Instead, he got here just on time so that he wouldn't garner too much of a bill while just waiting. Tres currently didn't have a job and he was living off of a body building scholarship that paid for his meals at Durem University. Tres had in fact come to this tournament to make money.
After he entered his room 703 he dropped his duffel bag with all of his crap in the middle of the floor, not bothering to take an immediate moment to hang up his clothes. He would lay, plop!, on the bed, back first so that his pretty blue eyes would look up into the air conditioning vent that blew gently upon his hansom face. It was slightly early and Tres was not a morning person, also he hadn't had his breakfast yet. He was a tad bit tired from his trip.
'At least the room was nice', he thought. He knew that what he paid to enter the tournament wasn't enough to get even a days stay at this hotel, so he made himself thankful. Yet, Treses greedy pretty boy nature would not allow him to silence the voice of desire in his mind. First, he wanted food, then he wanted p***y but he was too lazy to make himself rise from the bed to get either.
It won't be over until...!
YOU! HIT! THE! GROUND!
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Posted: Mon May 05, 2008 3:59 pm
::Deity felt bad for not attending the ceremony, but he hated being in a crowd. The only reason he would tolerate each match-up would be the knowledge that the audience itself would be far, far away from him. The sound of their presence would remain deafening, but at least they would be deafening over there.
The Orinian was seated at the edge of the bed in his hotel room, far less dressed than he was when he arrived. He was fresh out of the shower and well rested, especially considering his long trip to the hotel. He'd needed the sleep. Wearing a fitted bodysuit that covered his torso and lower body sans his feet, Deity was pulling on his jeans, standing to his feet as he did so. After fastening them he sat back down and pulled on his socks, which were grey and rubbery in appearance. The opponents he often faced had a tendency to alter the elements instead of actually engaging him directly - insulated clothing that could absorb some shocks and vibrations were almost a must by this point.
The Tonepian pulled on a pair of dark, lightweight shoes that only reached his ankle, the soles soft and fitted to his foot. His boots were next - they were much heavier by comparison in looks alone, thick soles giving him nearly an inch more in height. Zipping them up tight he tugged on his jeans to keep them over his footwear. Standing once more, the boy dragged a red shirt from the bed, which was leaving a weighted indentation where he had left it. He quickly threw it on over the undersuit, tucking it into his waistband. Next was his belt - halfway through looping it into his jeans he slid and fastened onto it the scabbard for his sword, positioning it just below his tailbone. The scabbard was attached to a pivot that was now sternly anchored on the back of his belt, buckled up tightly.
Last were the boy's gloves. First he wrapped his hands with black tape, followed by long rubbery gloves that weren't unlike his socks. The fingers were black, however. Lastly he strapped into place thick fingerless leather gloves that shared the same weighty bulk of his boots. Standing alone in his room, the stranger flexed his fingers before his eyes a few times, testing the elasticity of the gloves. Comfy, he thought. His vermillion eyes wandering without focus, one hand reached back, gripped the hilt of Hayahanekon and gave it a toss. The sheath spun just more than four times before coming to a gradual, somewhat stiffened halt. Satisfied, he repositioned it so that it was slanted at a more horizontal angle. Everything was ready.
It was time for his match up, though he didn't yet know who it was he was supposed to be fighting. Surely there was a chart or something nearby the colosseum that he could check. Turning back toward the bed, the stranger slipped something from the endtable - a polished silver locket. Holding it tightly, he whispered to himself before kissing the trinket and replacing it upon the surface next to the bed.::
...wish me luck.
::His words were soft and quiet, even in the silence of his hotel room. Wearing a smile only briefly, he produced from his side pocket his red bandana, which he placed against his forehead and tied on. Finally, his eyeglasses, still on the endtable. With foggy white lenses, once they were on they effectively masked his eyes. As an added bonus they made him slightly less blind than he would be otherwise. The thought generating an amused grin, he turned and made his exit. His steps were loud and heavy, so he had no doubt that he was bothering whoever was occupying the room below him. They'd live, though. Shutting the door behind him, Deity locked it with his keycard, which he then slipped into his back right pocket. With that, he closed his eyes and paused for a moment - after only a couple of seconds, he was gone.::
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Posted: Fri May 09, 2008 6:14 pm
"Hmph."
Syre entered the hotel in a huff, maybe even a storm. Needless to say he was a bit piffed.
Not a single punch had been traded in his latest fight. Just some BS manoeuvres. Syre had misunderstood a rule and made a mistake, but he recovered and made sure not to mess up again. But apparently, his opponent was not so cooperative.
A give up in the first round. No not a submission, a mere whim of deciding not to participate any longer. Syre sure hoped his opponents in the future would provide a better fight. Syre was looking forward to furthering his hand to hand expertise with some of the best, and his previous fight had been just the opposite.
A decision was made at that instant. Syre would rely a lot more on his strength and fighting abilities in this tournament rather then his normal flashy show.
Next round, things would get bloody.
For now however, Syre would chill in the lounge of the hotel. Blow of some steam and perhaps talk to some other 'winners' if he could even be called that. There was no pride in a forfeit match.
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Midus Sonners Vice Captain
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Posted: Sat May 10, 2008 10:03 am
"Hey, you!"
Someone in spike bright red hair walks toward Norian, his right hand on his waist as his left kept down to his side, a pleasant smile on his face.
"I saw your fight. Kinda sucks that your opponent gave up in just a few seconds of the fight. I can tell you're already hating that feeling of unfulfillment, right?"
This guy held an air of carefree distinguishment around his person, like the current world or life didn't matter to him as he gave a lazy smile.
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Posted: Sat May 10, 2008 4:18 pm
Exactly right. This man that Syre had no connection to what so ever had pin pointed his feeling exactly. How odd, who was this man.
"Yes that is precisely how I am feeling. Its a bit of a comfort for someone to at least know the feeling." Syre stood up and smiled at the man. "Hello my name is Syrdust, you may call me Syre. May I ask your name?"
Manners, manners, manners. One must be polite if he wants to get anywhere.
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Midus Sonners Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun May 11, 2008 7:55 am
"Call me Alex. And yeah, I kind of do know how it feels when someone doesn't show up for a fight you're waiting for. It's a fighter's pet peeve, unless that fighter is a coward, only trying to get easy wins. We don't like those types in this tournament. Or at least I don't."
Both of his hands return to his hips, head leaning a bit to the right as he continued to hold a smile. "Don't worry, though. At least you progress to the next round. And I'm sure you're going to have a present opponent then."
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Posted: Sun May 11, 2008 10:36 am
The thought sunk in a bit. That was not how Syre had thought about it bout now that the man said it Syre knew that was true.
"Hmm you know, you are right. That is a comfort to know. Thanks." Syre said with a light nod.
At least next round he would get to fight someone worthy. With that Syre was ready to leave and go train.
"Well I think I'm going to go get ready for the next round even if it is a ways off. I might could lose a few pounds." Syre slapped his belly with a playful chuckle, and turned to leave.
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Posted: Mon May 12, 2008 6:35 pm
Rei walked into the hotel, his armor slung over his shoulder, and the sword in his teeth. He was bruised and battered, and was unsure of how his fight would turn out. He turned to his right and saw chairs spread around. He wanted to sit. His legs hurt. His neck hurt. His body ached. He sat down in a chair and put his stuff beside him. He moved slowly for the time being, letting his aches heal.
He wondered how other fights had gone, and hoped, no matter where he went, that his next opponent would be just as fun. He closed his eyes and would wait.
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Posted: Mon May 12, 2008 7:17 pm
Reyin was chilling in a hot tub, shirt off, arms splayed out around the rim, and a great big smile plastered on his face. Currently his head was arched clear back, eyes focusing on whatever happened to be above him at the time. He was pretty tired, so he didn't seem to be able to tell the difference between stars and overhead fluorescent lighting.
Unlike many of the walking wounded that had limped their way back into the hotel, Reyin was surprisingly well off. There was a nasty looking bruise across his right temple and his left forearm was wrapped in ice, but aside from the two most noticeable areas of injury he looked unscathed.
His fight didn't have a clear victor like some of the other matches, and Reyin figured that he and the samurai he had pitted off against were surprisingly evenly matched. Had the fight gone on much longer, Reyin might have actually refused to separate once the time limit was up.
But his thoughts weren't on the past, or even concerned with whether or not he had won. Instead, all he could think about was humming a little song and tapping the fingers of his right hand to the beat.
Guy really couldn't have been any happier.
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