Welcome to Gaia! ::

The doors to the clan arena opened loudly. This would be the first time the room had been used for a fight, and it was a very ominous occasion. Chris, the arena's first contestant, strode in quietly, his long coat skirting about his heels as he entered. He was dressed as a gentleman, though it shouldn't restrict his movements too terribly; he was used to maneuvering in fine clothing. At his waist hung a fine blade, made by dark elves for the Kuro Gang; it was a well-respected symbol of power.

The ring was elevated slightly, circular and nature, and very spacious - they would have no want for extra room. The floor was tiled, and there were no obstacles - no where to hide. This was obviously a place for open combat, for people to test their raw abilities. That was what the gym was for: to train and hone skills necessary to survive in battle.

Chris stood in the arena, checking his watch from time to time, waiting to see if his opponent would be able to make the engagement.

Hearing the voice, Chris's mouth curled into a grin. "Emma," he said, identifying his guest, "I am glad you managed to make it. You look as lovely as ever; quite an interesting outfit you have this evening." He made a wide gesture, indicating to the area around him; the arena was fairly well-lit, with high ceilings. "I hope this battleground will be able to accommodate your needs. It's not exactly a castle, but I thought it would serve our purpose well enough."

He paused a moment to sigh. "This is my clan's gym. It may come as a surprise to you, but sometimes I do use my fighting abilities to serve the public good, and when I do, I usually do so through this organization." He nodded. "And this is where we train. Just so you know the background of it and all."

Having said that, Chris drew his sword. "Anyways, I don't mean to waste your time with idle chatter; you are here for a test of abilities, and that, you shall receive." He surrendered the first move to Emma. "Come; I am for you."

Chris smiled as she approached him with her sword raised; this would be an interesting battle, indeed!

He raised his own blade, a glimmering proof of his worth in the eyes of the dark elves; it was the finest of swords, and now it would be used against one of their own - oh, how life delighted in the sweet ironies of steel betraying those that forged it. Chris bent his knees, anticipating Emma's lunge and preparing to counter with a circle parry. With any luck, he'd paint a red dot upon her breast...

And if she chose a magical offensive, she'd be in for a different surprise entirely!

Chris's eyes focused in on the sword as it glowed, the lethal of the blade dancing dangerously through the air. The idea of being impaled by such an instrument did not appeal to his sensibilities in the slightest. Perhaps, he thought, it would be better for him to put her on the defensive; after all, if battle were a dance, it would only be right for the man to take the lead.

"I think you will be of a different mind by the end of our engagement," Chris said wryly, feinting a thrust and following it up with a quick upward flicking slash. A touch was all he was looking for.

Chris's face hardened as he focused on his footwork, doing his best to stay one step ahead of Emma in their mortal waltz. "I do believe you're making sport of me," he remarked as Emma's blade caught the edge of his coat in the midst of a reaction that was just a hair too slow. "I should hope you're not holding back..."

He backpedaled a moment to create distance, trying to think of an alternative strategy. As proud as he was, his fencing techniques simply weren't getting through... he'd need to try an alternative. Magic might be playing to her strong suit, but he'd have to give it a shot.

"Let's change it up a little, shall we?" He smiled again as dark flames began to circle around him - fireballs of malicious energy. "It'll heat things up." The fireballs began to shoot single-file rapidly towards Emma, their target.

"Very clever," Chris snarled, looking down at the pentagram. "I would have thought that you would have accepted the invitation to change to magical combat... but it would seem that I was mistaken."

He stood in the center of the circle, not moving in the slightest; his body was completely still. "Well?" He bemused, "what would you do now?" There was something somewhat unsettling about his lack of movement...

"Truth be told," Chris said, turning slightly, "I never did understand pentagrams much." He sighed. "They mean so many different things to different people... they're symbols," he explained aloud. "It's a matter of perspective; the Christians would convey the upward pentagram as a symbol of holiness..." he paused and faced the other way. "While the Satanists worship the inversion of it, with the two points upward, the way I'm looking at it now."

He glanced over at Emma. "As a vampire, I am fettered to these religious interpretations that people force upon me, even if I choose not believe them... but it's strange, isn't it? How one symbol can mean two different extremes looked at a different way..."

As he appealed to the downturned pentagram, he felt a power well up within him... one way or another, he would not be contained in his own arena.

Chris shook his head at Emma's words; he was concentrating, bringing the energy he'd felt earlier up to the surface. Setting the sword aside for a moment, he focused on calling up purifying chakras to ascend to one of his higher states. The headband he bore upon his forehead was not simply for decorative purposes; it designated him as one of death's angels, a veritable master of many long-forgotten, well-kept secret arts, such as the nuances of chakra manipulation.

Harnessing the purifying energy of these chakras, he channeled his newfound power into his hand, using it to smudge the inside of the pentagram's symbol and break the fettering bonds. Such a restriction can marginalize the physical aspects of a man, but not the mind.