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Tristan was sitting on his bed, just pulling his shirt on. He wore his usual attire except for his shirt. This one was mostly the same but the wrists were over long, creating streaming tails as he danced. He grabbed a brush off the small dresser he had and ran it through his hair. He pulled the crimson locks back and tied the pony tail up with a long black ribbon. He placed his cards in there holster and replaced Kaya and Kahna on his hips. He slowly left the room and wandered down the mostly empty hallways toward the garden. There was bound to be at least one fighter there by now. He had been assigned another fight soon and needed to see what the others knew of his opponent. Valahn Trikai, that was what he'd be called once in the arena, he let the name slip through his mind before a grin appeared."My worthless father's fake name at least serves a purpose now". He bumped into Dust while lost in his thoughts."Sorry cutie."

"Mornin' Shiyaa," Dust grinned at the yawning boy who was just joining the world of the living. Yep, Dust was one of those cheerful morning people that made you wanna smack the life out of his body, unless you like cheerful morning people.

Then, he was literally bumped into by Tristan... who looked dancibly delicious, which is a phrase he'd never say aloud. "Mornin'. ...Watch where you're goin.' Yaru's supposed to be the blind one," he chuckled, jabbing at the boy's ribs. Sometimes he wondered at why he wasn't allowed to be a Fighter... ...Because these Whores...

Sometimes he dreamed about them. Or maybe someone else did.

"Has anyone heard if His Majesty's risen and announced much of anything this morning?"

"Not yet. All I know so far is that Valahn Trikai has a fight sometime today." He knew the others knwe his fighting name. It was the only way that he could talk about his fights without getting found out."I'm going to find out about his opponent from the fighters."

Shiyaa took Dust's arm, smiling happily. He too, would like to see the fight, but rarely witnessed such things. That was his nature, never really interested in fighting, unless his life depended on it. He much rather liked to dance and entertain.

Shiyaa seemed equally happy. He loved being around people and making them happy. That's what he did best, after all.

" I guess it's because I'm used to it. Plus, it takes forever to deal with my hair every morning, so I have to get up early to deal with it," He said, using his other hand to gently toss his hair over his shoulder. It wasn't meant as a sign of vanity, merely an act to move it.

Caprica walked past the knot of cheery morning people and glared at them as if they were some kind of ugly smear he found on a wall he'd just cleaned. He stalked past them, boot spikes striking small sparks as he went. He was not a morning person. Or an evening person. Really, he was just gumpy all the time. Possibly because sleep wasn't often worked into his schedule. When one saw the sorts of things he saw when he closed his eyes, one didn't tend to sleep a whole lot. Or want to.

He hissed at him quietly as he stalked past and gave him a complimentary one finger wave. He let himself out the door and padded off through the grass to his favourite tree. Damnable annoying people. Why couldn't they all just die? Well, not all of them. Then he'd have no one to fight. He'd go nuts. Well he just wished they wouldn't be so damned cheerful when he was tired. Didn't they know better? Bloody inconsiderate.

Caprica told himself that he'd gain nothing by slaughtering the lot of them this morning and made his way out to his tree. At least he considered it to be his tree. He flipped his glove claws down to the palms of his hands and climbed up. He reached his branch and stretched out on it on his belly, yawning and letting one leg dangle off of it. He closed his eyes and settled down on the smooth wood to have a nap.