Welcome to Gaia! ::

The old man sat on his bench, drenched in warm sunlight, his weathered face smiling at the sky. It was a nostalgic day, with kind spring breezes whispering happy thoughts, and the smell of life erupting with the change of season. Perhaps it was a bit more moist then one would have liked, but winter was only just receeding, and it was to be expected.

Regardless, it was a wonderful day, and the old Etai was out to enjoy it, for better or worse.

And so he sat, coffee in one hand, cane in the other, his face both worn by time and yet as sharp as carved stone.

Near the entrance to Hotel Kubikukuri a large amount of new's camera crew were gathering, as if in anticipation of something.

Demons and Humans alike were gathering around the area, muttering to each other in collective groups. The sound of grunted and smoothed voices echoing together made an odd sort of harmony of questioning that grew in volume as time went by.

"Hey... what's going on here?" Grunted a human voice.

"They're bringing in one of the tournament competitors in the tourist entrance." The sound of a small and scrawny lesser demon replied.

A deep billowy voice "I heard it was that little kid... what's his sort doing in man's game anyways?"

"Hey, watch your tong" raised a rough sounding humanoid. "last event's champion was only a teen when he won too. Anyways, I heard this kid's special."

"Oh?" Chimed in a warrior woman "I heard he's the child of Death's Rouge."

"That old legend?" shouted an old demon. "Hell barely anyone even remembers those days, it can't possibly be the Rouge Darkangel's kid."

"Yah, I heard he's the kid of the Dragon Mistress!" Said the first human.

"Hogwash. It's just a publicity stunt!" Said the low voiced demon.

"It's true." Said the warrior woman. "The two shacked up a while ago. Used to run a dive down south of Durem, I think they called it the Bloodbath. Don't know if they're still there anymore though."

"Hey, something's coming!" the scrawny demon announced.

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Alan was sitting in the back of a Stretched Limo by himself. The rest of the team had already been dropped of out back. It had seemed rather lonely in such a large space out by himself the short but long 'moving room' as he thought of it seemed way too much of a space for something like this. But the team sponsor insisted. She said that shedding a little light on Alan's heritage and past would do the team some good in carrying over a newcomer, and over-shadow the fact that they had entered on the coat-tails of a mandatory entrant. She also had told him in private that it would better serve their more... alternative ends.

The long vehicle would pull along the circular roadway to the park side, a good bit from the entrance. Already Alan had gotten a glance at the multiple press groups stationed right by the overly long walk towards the entrance of the hotel. His steel-blue eyes gazing at the scene, the Avion youth was forced to swallow down his jitters.

"Well..." Alan said with a sigh. "Misses Violet sure did a good job with the Public Relations committee..."

A pair of tuxedo suited people would walk alongside the roped walkway, one opening the door to the Limo. Before Alan was even out of the door, he was beset by a series of bright flashes. Alan had to cover his eyes for a moment to adjust to the camera's flickers. Many of which were really painful. He was lucky to have been wearing the semi-reflective contacts that Mrs. Violet had insisted he put in before getting in the limo. He knew he couldn't use them for the tournament, but it helped really well in dealing with the modern media without being blinded.

"Mr. Meadia, do you have any words for your fans?"

"Are you really the son of the legendary 'Kalar Rouge Darkangel', four time Aynee Tournament champion?"

"Are your parent's here to see you fight?"

Alan was stunned. He was used to being in public areas, even being in the spotlight of people's attentions. But these were in olden-time enviroments. Nothing could have prepared him for the onslaught of Free Press.

"No questions please." The man to his right, one of the Hotel Assistance managed to say aloud, clearing a path for Alan to walk. The Avion had to stop himself from openly thanking the man as he stood upright to walk as dignified as he could down the roped path.



Alan looked rather nice in his outfit. It was a mix of fine attire and dress suited for battle. Finley tanned, leather trousers that were loose at the bell over his worn, but polished steel-toed boots. A embroidered vest of Robin's Egg blue decorated in wing motifs, complete with ruffling shirt underneath. cut at the sleeves to let for black short-leather sleeves to cover down to his forearms, matching the location of the silver-shimmering, talon looking gauntlet on his left hand. His right was simply adorned with a fingerless leather glove. He walked with a sort of dignity as he would have done at home. Truly the walk of a battle-ready princeling.

A wave of releif was taking him as he got nearer to the hotel entrance. However it was quickly dispelled as a rather particular reporter boldly pushed past the rope way guards onto the red carpet. Alan's eyes widened in recognition. Bushy tan tail, ears pointed slightly forward at the top of her head, even those hips. The escorts on either side of Alan hesitated, and for good reason. This reporter was not going to be fended off so easily.

Oh great... not her... Alan thought to himself.

"I ... uh..." Alan was speachless at first. He had seen her before in the videos he was studying before he came to the tournament, but this was the first fox-girl he had ever really seen. It touch of color added to his cheeks.

But it was not fear or the lack of a well kept answer that paused him. Alan stood up as tall as his short, five foot six inch body could muster. He half wanted to show off what really mad him glorious then and there, but the extensive amounts of badgering by Misses Violet kept him from doing so.

"You've got it all wrong Miss! It's going to be the Monsters and Demons in a heap of bloody mess when I get to them. My father wasn't called Death's Rouge cause he work black makeup! I'm going to do my family name honor for GREAT JUSTICE!!"

The words coming out of anyone else mouth would have sounded like teenage arrogance, but there was fire in his eyes that spoke otherwise. However, he did keep enough sense about him to let slip in a internet-orientated joke. Alan had been familiarizing himself in modern culture, and the internet proved him with endless amounts of entertainment.

"Whoah!" Alan would say in response to the question, eying her like she suddenly was asking him out on a date right then and there. If Alan's face wasn't red before, it most certainly was now.

"I-I... I thought my skills were going to be tested in battle, not in bed!" Alan replied using as much wit as he could muster on such short notice. Alan's shocked features turning once again into a determined, if some what lucrative smile now.

He would try to move himself in front of the camrea, facing it directly now as if he were the spotlight of an advertisement. "But one thing's certain, I'll respond to any challenge I receive, even from you Miss Koto! And if any girl wants to take up that challenge, my suite number is---"

The monk, hearing the noise and the lack of response from Lord Kong earlier, decided to investigate. Now he stood at the edge of the throng, looking to see what was going on. "This is new... why are people gathering?"

"There you have it, people!" Koto said to the camera, holding her mic directly in front of her, "Looks like there's a few grudge matches to be had between Alan Meadia of Team G.U.I.L.T. with Mordecai Keller of Team Draconic Fear and Connor Aduven Kroww of Team Phalanx! But no matter what the matchup, the stadium's going to gush blood as long as two fighters in the ring! I can't wait, can you?!" Koto seemed to be bouncing on her feet again, overflowing with anticipation.

Koto's tail swished in elation, before giving a polite bow to Alan. "Thanks for talking to us!" Then quickly, she sped off, her cameraman following behind her.