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Where you would expect someone to be stunned, Trei is only intrigued...the guy was either really light on his feet, or really powerful. No time to think about which one, though...the man is suddenly at his side and Trei is here with his hands in his pockets...

How do you dodge something that fast...to duck would be almost suicide, so as the man appears next to him, Trei performs a quick hop...the impact of the man's kick into his left shoulder hurts like hell, but it's better than in the neck, ya?

Course, Now Trei is airborne..easily solved, though, as he shoots out his own foot and kicks off the dojo's wall before his body impacts it, a resounding -SMACK- filling the air. This...would not be a fight to toy with. Still grinning, the young man pulls his hands from his pockets...

::Still in the air, Deity watches Trei's every movement, the high rate at which his eyes can discern motion acting as a slow motion camera as Trei moves toward the wall. A glancing blow, but useful no less. Lowering himself to the ground, the red-headed demon's left boot touches down on the floor first, his knee still lifted up as Trei kicks against the wall to return.

That concentrated look remains on the Tonepian's face as his right leg lowers back down to the floor as well, his thumbs still hanging from his pockets. His power in combat numbers would be roughly a ten; nothing spectacular for a decent fighter, but not enough to explain his speed thus far. There is surely something else to his technique.

Trei leaving him little time to dawdle, the tall boy once again leans forward to jump, right leg forward. However, rather than leave the ground, he simply positions himself lower to the ground while darting forward at the same speed as before: roughly fifty-four miles per hour. The sound of his boots hitting the floor sounds three times in all before he is directly underneath his opponent, arching his upper body backward and kicking his left leg straight up with a speed matching that of his last attack.

The flattened sole of his boot is aimed directly for Trei's midsection, whether it be his spine or his stomach, depending on the direction he's facing. This time, however - Deity exerting a bit more force into the blow - the impact of the strike is significantly heavier should it hit, the power behind it threatening to send the man plowing into the ceiling and bouncing back down.

Should all motion go unhindered, Deity'll give in to his own momentum and continue in the direction he was going - a total of six feet out of the way should Trei indeed bolt right back down. The force of his own left kick sends him into a backwards flip as he moves forward, his right leg kicking from the ground to leave his left foot as the first to hit the floor after the attack. The flip helps to halt his momentum as Deity lands, his right foot hitting the ground with a dull thud right after his left.::

::A sense of malice in the opponent's personal aura is a warning sign as the Orinian closes in. In mid-stride, Deity's keen eyes see the change of pattern in Trei's legs, the left coming down for the same sort of strike that Deity is aiming for. Considering that his intended attack is a fourth step turned kick, he continues with his movement, preparing in his head his own way out of the situation at hand.

Rather than go forward with the plan of pushing from his second right-foot step into the left kick, he arches his upper body far back now, lifting his left foot lightly from the ground, though not attacking with it. Bending over backwards, Trei's foot whizzes by in front of Deity's face, kicking the brim of his large black hat and tearing the thing right from his head. The back of his neck and shoulders swiftly hitting the floor underneath him with a loud slam, Deity likewise lifts his right foot from the floor and now tucks both knees to his chest, curling up tightly into a ball.

Still keeping his hands out of the equation, he kicks forward with both feet and arches his back again, nipping nimbly off of the floor and onto the soles of his boots. Standing up straight to his full 6'4" height, his tail swaying ever so gently from side to side behind his legs, Deity turns ninety degrees, deciding not to attack Trei again until after he's at least reached the ground again. Now his long, wild vermillion locks are on full display, spiking out and up in random directions.

Lifting his right hand for just a moment, Deity flicks his wrist, his tumbling hat suddenly jerking into movement and flying across the room. Catching it with his fingers, another flick of the wrist causes the hat to vanish into thin air. That calm attitude persisting, Deity's thumb finds the right pocket of his jeans again.::

The door to the training room opened, a young man backing into the room, using his shoulder to open the door. He was tall, thin, lean muscles covering his limbs and torso.

Loose pants hung from his hips, held up by a leather belt, a silvery rose buckle holding the belt on. A loose, button up shirt hung from his shoulders, the buttons undone, leaving his chest and stomach bare. His fingers were tucked in his pockets, a metal studded wristband clasted around his wrist.

As he turned his head the light caught on many peircings that decarated his elongated ears, the points much higher then humans, as if someone had grabbed them and pulled them. Peicings covered his ears and eyebrows, his left more then his right. From his right ear hung a metal chain, the faint shimmer over it showing roses carved into the links. His hair was blue, it looked messy, as if wind had ripped at it, tearing it from its original form.

A blue wolven tail hung down behind him, a thick metal band covering the fur. A rose engraved into the metal.

His head turned, his eyes scanning the room. They were a ice blue, his iris's fadding from a deep blue to a white, fadding through the many shades of blue before they disappeared into the whites of his eyes.

Earlier that day, a new prototype, fresh out of the cloning chambers and production lines, had been sent to the Arena for unknown purposes. It was inferrior to all of the others in all ways, and had somehow gotten itself lost inside of the messy room in the Gym. It had stayed in a corner of the room, and upon the room lighting itself, it awoke.

It looked similar to the other types, a human male, approximately six feet tall. In his hands were two swords, each three feet in length, sharpened, and shining in the dim light.

The odd figure looked at Lys, who had just walked into the room. The unit was named Ken-Runt, simply for a lack of a better name.

It had a quizzical look on it's face as it stood there in the line between the dark corner and the lit portion of the Gym. A slight, red glow in it's eye showed that it was ready to fight.

Ken-Runt watched the other figure run into another corner of the room and realized it alarmed whatever it was with it's redness. To preserve energy, his simply turned his eyes off. The cameras were useless in low-light environments, and the energy transfered quickly to the sensory array. A more accurate view of the room could be see internally by a mini-virus.

The unit faded further into the shadows of the room and moved silently towards Lys, both swords still held in front of it's body. With the proper channeling of energy, Ken-Runt created two miniature fireballs in the place he had been previously. They faded slowly as he got closer to Lys.

The bright light surrounded Ken-Runt, who ignored it completely. The lack of using the eyes made it so Ken-Runt never percieved the light at all.

The sensors reported to the mini-virus that the figure on the other side of the room had successfully stabbed itself in the hand, pinning itself to the ground. Taking advantage of the pinned-person, Ken-Runt lept into the air, about ten feet off the ground. As he was in the air, he pointed his swords downwards. If nothing interrupted his jump, he would manage to land on the spot that Lys was currently in, successively stabbing both swords into her.

((EDIT: Spelling errors. Guh.))