Location: World Martial Arts Championship grounds, Nan Hua Temple, South Africa.

Yin approached the front gate and entrance-way to the tournament grounds via the long and straight road leading directly to it. The site for the tournament had been built with meticulous detail and splendor, and reminded him of the Buddhist temples in his own country. Crowds filed in and out of the entrance, all of them buzzing with talk of the upcoming tournament and luck of such splendid weather. Street vendors and various commercial stalls lined the roadside on the way to the temple, each of them flogging their own twist on the World Martial Arts memorabilia to eager and exited customers. Yin watched the passing activity with an air of quiet amusement, he rarely enjoyed the hustle and bustle of busy life, yet he found it difficult not to enjoy the energy circulating around him. Small children ran about the area, contending each other with predictions of the overall victor of the tournament, citing famous wrestling and boxing champions as the shoe-in to win. Mothers and daughters conversing with sisters and aunts spoke of the beauty of the temple and the spirituality it exuded. Fathers and sons debated with brothers and uncles about the fighting styles proven through history to be the best method of fighting. The atmosphere felt electric, and welcoming, as if Yin was arriving home after a long and absent journey.

Yin basked a little more, and enjoyed looking over some of the stalls. He was playing the role of detached consumer well, and made slow progress through the ranks of stalls, successfully not buying anything. As he went, he kept an eye scanning the crowds looking out for any potential contestants in the tournament. So far he could not see any, and he began to wonder if perhaps he had arrived slightly early, or extremely late. Unsure of what was going on, Yin decided to make his way to the gate proper and approach one of the tournament stewards to ask for advice. He tapped one on the shoulder as he was hurriedly passing and said, "excuse me sir, forgive me for interrupting you, but I am a registered fighter for the tournament and I was wondering where I go to sign in,"

"If you go and speak with them over there," the steward pointed behind Yin to a small crowd of stewards gathered around a table, "they should be able to help you out."

Yin smiled at the steward and thanked him for his assistance and turned to walk towards the table. When he got closer, Yin could make out the exasperated tones of worried stewards talking in hushed but strained voices.
"None of them are here yet! What are we going to do?"
"It doesn't look like there's much we can do, Steve. It's looking like we might have to call it off,"
"We can't call it off Fred, look at all these people! And just think of the refu--"
"Think of the refunds Fred, Jesus Christ, the boss is not going to be happy,"
"We definitely sent the memo about registry times and dates right?"
"You're damned right we did Fred, what the fuck do you think this is a créche?"
"We're professionals Fred, we do this every other year,"
"Okay Jesus, it was just a thought,"

It was at this point in the conversation the Yin decided to make his presence known to the chagrin of the four stewards.

"Excuse me sir's," said Yin said abruptly, "I was directed over here to sign in."
"Are you a contender?" one of the stewards responded, half suspiciously and half hoping.
"Yes, I intend to participate. I've been looking for where to go, I'm sorry if I'm late," Yin replied.
"No, no! That's great, let me just see now," one of the stewards began inspecting a list, "what name is it?"
"Yin Jingshen," he replied,
"Yin, Yin. Ah yes, Yin Jingshen, there you are. Well come with me and we'll have you seen to the locker rooms,"
"thank you," Yin said and followed the steward as he quickly turned and motioned for Yin to accompany.

The excitement in the air was infectious. Patricia enjoyed the almost festival atmosphere and grinned at everyone she passed as she made her way inside the Nan Hua Temple. So many different languages, races and faces all converging in one place was always an interesting thing to see, and Patricia Ender's habit of people watching showed her some interesting things.

There a wizened old man with steel grey hair stood at a stall selling little toy cars made out of wires. In the next, a boy no older than twelve tried to sell vuvuzelas by demonstrating the trumpeting sound they were renowned to produce - much to the chagrin of a few passers-by. Patricia very nearly bought one, but told herself to rather save her limited supply of money on something useful. That resolution flew right out of the window when the smell of sizzling potato hit her nose. Unable to resist when her stomach growled ferociously, she threw caution to the wind and got herself a large serving of spicy fries to go.

But she was there for more important reasons than to take in the sights and cultures. Having signed in some minutes ago with a surprising amount of difficulty - I would have thought they'd make it easier to find the booth, she thought - she was on her way to finding the locker rooms. Munching on her oily snack as she went, her lanky legs carried her easily through the crowds, which thinned out slightly the closer she got to the tournament participants' designated area. She was very eager to see some of the opposition, as it was her first ever competitive fight. Finally she'd be able to put her hard-earned skills to some use, and hopefully make some cash out of the entire thing.

Jay held a cold glare as he surveyed potential competitors, studying the way they walked, talked, mannerisms, anything that could be analyzed and shuffled in the database in his mind as useful data. He had entered the tournament as a way of testing his skills and potentially finding someone with connections to the RRA, as they always seemed to be the fighting type.

"One part theory, one part experimentation..." Jay quietly said this to himself as he amped his body to attention, stretching, cracking various joints and knuckles, and generally looking somewhat silly for a man in business attire. While surveying the various contestants, he noticed a few that seemed...more than the others, people with talent, latent or otherwise. He could see it in the way they moved, the efficiency of their bodies movement a sure tell.

He was walking towards the registration table when a man, about his size, caught his eye immediately. He was already walking towards the back, being escorted by some of the stewards when the few left at the table immediately took wind of his presence.

"Are you also a participant sir?" A spindly man with glasses looked him over for a second before waiting for an answer.

"Yes, Jay, Kyosuke Jay, I should be on the list." Jay replied while walking past, not waiting for the mans answer as he knew for sure he was on the list, and he needed to gauge the unusual man he saw being escorted from before. He was genuine surprised that when he walked passed the area where all the contestants would gather, he saw only a woman, a young one, who was enthusiastically eating some sort of fried potato dish, as the smell permeated the immediate area. He decided to side track casing out the other Asian guy and ask a fellow competitor some questions, more to throw her off guard than anything.

"You're a fighter too huh?" His voice feigned interest as he watched to see the woman's reaction.

((Postal order to be declared next time this character posts.))

Wading through the crowds, the hooded figure made it's way towards the crowded entrance of the Nan Hua temple. The excitement was palpable and the hooded figure could feel it condensing on his skin like cold drops of dew water. He sensed various powerful energies about him, but could not distinguish them from the faces among the bustling and jostling crowds. It seemed to the figure, that some of the contestants had already begun to show up, and had caused a stir among the paying customers, all vying to catch a glimpse of their new idols and gambling prospects. Though an imposing figure, the hooded one went largely unnoticed due to the curiosity built by the entrance of the contenders. Stewards of the event tried wholeheartedly to repel the growing crowds, and guide them into safer and more considerate groups. Yet it seemed their efforts were in vain, their numbers were indeed too small and the crowds energies were ecstatic and reaching. The hooded figure found displays of blind worship vulgar, and found himself repulsed by the crowds actions.

Feeling bitter, the figure pushed through the crowds, drawing alarmed shouts and agitated curses toward him. However, once the figure had been seen, the shouts and curses turned into apologies and nervous laughter. The figure drew himself up toward the registering desk and looked coldly into the registrar's eyes.

"Y-yes, sir? Will you be participating today?" the registrar asked feebly,"this is the sign in desk for competitors, if you're looking for a help desk it's over ther--"
"My name is X," the hooded figure replied coolly.
"Oh you are, okay let me see," the registrar began to look through the list hurriedly, obviously disturbed by the hooded figure's size and mystique, "I can't see your name anywhere, perhaps I missed it, here let me see."
The hooded figure twitched a finger; using his telekinetic abilities, he altered the ink on the last entrant's name into the words "Contender X."
"Oh! There you are! I don't remember seeing that, there you are 'Contender X', heh heh. Sorry about that, here, this steward will see you in and I'll cross you off the list. Enjoy the tournament!" The steward said, a heavy relief in his voice, belying the tense intimidation he had felt emanating from the hooded figure. The hooded figure nodded and followed the other steward through into the participants area.

There he witnessed three other contestants, and immediately became aware of their sizable strengths. He watched them for a moment, and saw that one of them had approached another wishing to engage in conversation. A polite gesture indeed, but one the hooded figure felt he needed no part in. Quietly, and with purpose, he strode to the other end of the room and sat on a bench. The position gave him a complete view across the room. As he scanned the room, he noted the young man sat on his own, tending to his things and away from the other two fighters conversing. His power exuded from him confidently, perhaps subconsciously. The hooded figure was impressed with what he saw and felt, even from the other two, he was intrigued, and wondered how they had acquired such concentrated auras. He kept his musings to himself, and worked over the possibilities as he sat and surveyed the room.

Patricia looked up with her mouth full of half-chewed chips and eyebrows raise. "Mhmmya?" she muttered. In no hurry to finish her food and answer the man who had spoken, she took a moment to appraise him with a critical eye. A suit, eh? she thought. That can't be comfortable in this temperature. It may only be spring, but the heat's humid and heavy, so he has to be boiling.

Something about that immediately put her off. If someone was going to care more about what they looked like at an important event like the World Martial Arts Tournament - where above all else, contenders had to be at the top of their physical game - then she couldn't really take them seriously. That wasn't to say he was a bad fighter, she acceded to herself, but still. It was about the principal of it.

She herself was wearing a pair of sneakers, roomy denim shorts and an oversized, crimson American football jersey with a giant 82 on the back. It was a souvenir from her travels through the country, picked up somewhere in the southeastern region. Sure she liked the style, but what was important about the entire outfit was that it was cool, allowed for a lot of easy movement and she didn't care if it got a bit bloody in battle.

Having finally swallowed, she opened her mouth to answer Jay properly and got distracted once again.

A giant of a man - or woman, she couldn't tell anything about their features under the hood they were wearing - had entered the fighters' area. Her mouth fell open. "Check it out," she motioned for Jay to turn around and see their tall opponent. "Who do you suppose that is?"

The crowds of fans and salesmen parted like a field of wheat, some more forcefully than others as curses rang out. Then, like a shark's fin, a bright yellow vuvuzela poked out of the top of the crowd as more innocent people minding their own business were shoved out of the way. Someone observing the scene might have wondered why the man didn't simply use the more cleared path up to the registration table. They wouldn't have wondered that if they knew who the man was.

Bursting out of one side of the crowd, reveling in the way people had to stumble backwards like a geyser explosion, Kitti Mookjai stood triumphantly at the gate of the Nan Hua temple. The tournament grounds themselves, so tantalizingly close. All of the gorgeous cultural architecture on display was completely wasted on him, however. In some small ways it reminded him of home, but only passingly. The temples of Bankok were tourist traps. Instead of spiritual enlightenment, they provided him with easy access to visitor's wallets. Moreover, he couldn't recall any of them looking this nice. Everything he remembered from home was chipped and peeling and rusty, but that could've just been his perception. The last few years there hadn't helped things.

Twirling the long vuvuzella between his fingers, Kitti approached the sign-in desk with something called a vetkoek full of minced meat. It was like a fried ball of dough with delicious stuff inside, which was definitely not the sort of thing a martial artist should probably be eating right before a fight... but Kitti wasn't your normal martial artist. One could probably tell that from the crude tattoos covering his dark brown skin, simple images of tigers and dragons all done by a prisoner's hand. He displayed them proudly, wearing nothing but his black fighting trunks. The steward at the desk certainly didn't like the looks of him.

"Name, sir?" The poor worker, still reeling from his meeting with that creepy hooded guy just earlier, flipped the pages of his register back to the beginning.
"Kitti Mookjai-phh." The fighter said with a mouthful of food, spitting bits of mince onto the desk.
Sighing, the steward flipped through and searched closely for the name.
"BBBBBBBWWWWHHHH!"

One of the most horrible sounds ever known, like a hive of gigantic very upset bees, burst right into the steward's left ear. Kitti Mookjai, of course, had his bright yellow and green vuvuzela pressed up against his lips and was blowing with all his might. When the event worker jolted upright, the sound of angry alien hornets was replaced by Kitti's booming laughter. Never one for tact, he pointed his horn at the skinny man and laughed right in his face. The steward, being the mature one, bent back down to try and find the buffoon's name so he could leave.

"BBBBBBBBBwwbbbbbhhhhbbbbwww!"

Before he could so much as turn another page, the vuvuzela sounded off again, rattling him in his chair. As the fighter guffawed with laughter once more, the steward slammed his book shut and pointed a shaking finger at the contestant's entrance where the locker rooms waited beyond.

"J-just go, p-please!" Was all he could say, turning red and then purple in the face (Which Kitti found even more funny). The crude thai fighter strutted onward like a rooster, blowing his trumpet a few more times in between bites of vetkoek. He had a good feeling this tournament was going to be a blast.

Akihiko approached the sign ins. He was dressed simply in loose shorts and tennis shoes (which he planned to remove for his fights). He decided not to wear a shirt, opting for ease of movement. He was incredibly excited. Just looking at the folks that had gathered outside, it looked like the competition was pretty stiff. It was the perfect opportunity to test his limits; to go someplace he has never gone before. Perhaps today was the start of a new journey for him? Feeling more optimistic than usual, he greeted the people at the table with a smile. "Good day! I'm participating in the tournament." His voice was full of cheer, his excitement apparent.



One of the people smiled at him. "Wonderful. Your name, please?" Akihiko stood firm, his chin up.



"Yoshigawa Akihiko." He jogged in place, waiting impatiently for the steward to give him the okay to head inside. Finally, after a few seconds that felt like an eternity, Akihiko was finally allowed inside. Giving a quick thank you to the Steward, he made his way inside. His gait was merry and he was waving to everyone he met. When he got inside, he let out one big "Woohoo!" He was incredibly excited to be here. Even if he didn't win, this was a great opportunity to test his abilities, to grow stronger. Maybe he could even help someone who needed to be helped? He wouldn't even care about winning if it wasn't for his plans for the money. And then he started counting his chickens before they hatched. He would first spend the money on supplies to take a trip around Africa and other places helping those in need. Then, maybe he'd go back to his hometown and help those in need there. Msybe then he'd mske a donation to a charity?



Akihiko sighed and smiled. There was a lot of good he could do with that money... and with the strength he gained, he could protect those he cares about. He nodded to himself, resolved. He would win this tournament. He would get the money. He would get stronger. He would help those people. He had no other choice. At least, not in his mind. Failure was not an option. He had to win. Now, time to mingle... He scanned those gathered in this area.



That was when he spotted two people talking; a man and a woman. The man was dressed in inappropriate clothing for the weather, but Akihiko admired his showmanship. Maybe he should have worn a costume? He shook his head. No. He needed complete control of his body. He couldn't afford to have anything wearing him down. Well, he did want to mingle. He approached the two, then bowed deeply. "Good day. My name is Yoshigawa Akihiko. I take it you two are fighters as well?" He grinned. "You guys look strong. I hope we get to fight." He turned to the man, addressing him specifically. "I like your outfit. It's awesome." He gave him a thumbs up. Believe it or not, there was a point to speaking with the other fighters. He had a couple of major goals. First and foremost, in true Akihiko fashion, he wanted to make friends. A lot of friends. Secondly, he wanted to feel them out; get a sense for who they were.



This was part of his preparation, but not entirely important in his mind. Again, his main goal was to make friends. A loss stung, but the pain of losing to a friend is less than the pain of losing to an enemy or a stranger. In this tournament, a friend may beat the tar out of you, but he will be there to pick you up after the fight is over. Not only was he doing this to lessen the pain of any losses, but also to make the tournament more fun. If he was fighting a friend, he would feel free to let loose and have fun with the fight. And any victory he had would be a victory shared with his friends. He smiled subconsciously, his excitement growing. He could hardly wait for the fight to begin. But first, time to make friends. Time to mingle. Time to put himself out there and make himself known.

Ever since he had seen that notification, since he had received a literal invitation to South Africa, he had been on the edge of his seat. He had been wondering who could've sent that invitation. Why he, by all means, had been sent the invitation. At first, he had thought about directly throwing the invitation away. Then, he had found the short notice in the envelope. It did not tell him much, least of all who his mysterious benefactor was. Still, wanderlust had overcome him and he had finally concluded that going could probably reveal the answers to his questions. So he had packed a few things together and had looked up the location of the event. He had decided on bringing primarily his sleeveless unitard, covering the thighs, made from black wool. On the back and the chest, the cotton was 'reinforced' with patches of leather. It had taken some time to find a way to colour those patches yellow, but in the end, Tiny had managed to do it. He thought about going without any clothing, but that might have led to a few problems with some of the more squeamish humans.

But he had forgotten to look up how he would get there from the airport.

The direction Simon had given proved to be a little vague, but Tiny nonetheless found his way. A few other people were more helpful and in less need of a good whacking. One guy in particular, quite young, had offered to guide Tiny, but after a while, the animal-sapien got the feeling that he would be better off searching on his own. Maybe it was the fact that they had passed by the same doughnut shop four times that gave away they were moving in circles. That, however, might have just been imagination. Finally, someone was able to tell him how to get to the Nan Hua Temple.

Good weather, coupled with the general atmosphere of the area, lifted Tiny's spirits. The tour around the city block had made him a little grumpy, but that was all gone. Feeling the warm rays of the sun on his fur, he was glad that he had brought only light clothing. As always, the raccoon was wondering how so many people could gather in such a seemingly small place. Living in such circumstances had to be incredible annoying. Never having some time alone, never being able to find a moment of silence. Always being talked to, always having to answer. All those around him, all those people, they probably were used to it.

On the way, he had passed by many push carts, advertising whatever they were selling. There was also noise. Not the sounds of large crowds, blathering and yelling. No, it sounded like someone had cracked open a bee hive to get to the honey and the bees were not pleased. Someone had the guts to blow one of these infernal contraptions right next to Tiny, who was jumping to the side, finding himself on top of one of the push carts. The child who had blown that... instrument... had already been dragged away. 'Hopefully to listen to a group of people blowing that in her ear.' Sometimes, it was so easy to wish someone else some bad luck.

After a few minutes, he had calmed down enough to jump down and finally go look for someone to sign up for this event.

Then, Tiny had finally arrived at the gate to the Nan Hua Temple. It was an impressive building, and a huge pocket of land, sheltered behind low walls. 'Just how much nature had been sacrificed to build this?' he wondered. He couldn't resist and climbed one of the walls to get an overview of the area behind the wall. Placing his forearms on the top of the wall and his head on his hands, one over the other, the looked around. Seeing the temple buildings, he instinctively compared them to his home and came to the conclusion that living in such a place would require way too much work. Keeping this entire area clean and tidy, that thought would certainly give him nightmares. Other than that, he noticed the large area of tiled floor, slightly raised above the ground. He wondered why someone would go to whatever length to make such a pedestal. A smaller one would be enough for a single person. 'Maybe they are doing stuff together on there?' he thought, feeling someone touch him.

No... That was not touching. Someone was pulling his tail!

"What the hell. Get down there instantly!" a voice could be heard.

Turning his head, he noticed a tall human, wearing clothes different from those worn by the crowd. It was some kind of large cloth piece, wrapped around the tall, slender figure. Seeing Tiny turn his head, the man let go of the tail.

"Excuse me! Do I instantly grab YOUR tail when I want to talk to you?" Tiny snarled, jumping down from the wall.

"No, you do not, since I do not have a tail," the man replied.

"Oh I know something I could grab," the animal-sapien muttered. "I was just taking a look."

"You were trying to sneak in. Only participants are allowed to enter. Through the gate."

The man pointed at the large gate, where Tiny noticed a desk with people around it. From his earlier position, the desk had been all but invisible, due to the people standing around.

"Well, I wanted to go there anyways," the sentient raccoon said, sniffling.

"Then get going, before the sign-up ends," the man replied.

As Tiny was moving towards the table, he overheard the man muttering something about brats and troublemakers. Obviously, that human was the one having to clean the area inside the wall and the buildings as well. 'Work like that would have a mighty negative impact on my own mood as well. Still, the next person grabbing me by the tail will rue it,' he thought by himself. Then, he had arrived at the desk and was apparently the only one at the moment, trying to get into the event.

"Excuse me, mister, I would like to participate," he said.

"Huh? Who's there? Stop with the pranks already," came the reply in a slightly weary voice.

"Erm, I said I would like to take part in the tournament," Tiny said, again, this time jumping onto the table.

"Whoa." The guy at the table almost fell back over his chair. "You are here to participate?"

"Do I speak German? Yes, I said I am here to participate. What do you need from me?" the sentient animal repeated, slowly doubting that specific human's brain functions.

"Uh... Ah... Your... name?"

"I am Tiny," the raccoon said.

"Uhm... No, I do not need a rough description of your body size. I need your name. To check my list."

This was going to get ugly. "No, my name is Tiny. I should be on your list. I am a fighter and I take part in this event," he said, giving the human a stern glare, trying to suppress a more appropriate answer.

"Uh... Let me see... T... Ti... Tiny. Oh, there you are. Would you please proceed to the contestants waiting room?"

"Thank you very much," Tiny replied. He was glad to get away from him, or else the strong smell of sweat would give him nausea.

As Tiny was walking into the waiting room, he instinctively looked around, trying to get a feeling for what was going on in here. There were a few groups of people and others sitting on their own. Among those on their own, three people caught his eye, as they were behaving differently from the others, giving off a different vibe. He could not say why, but they caused the fur in his neck to stand on end. They had something on them that reminded him of predators on the prowl. He would have to be careful, but they could probably be what he had come here for in the first place. Among the groups, one attracted his attention. Two males and a female, standing together. The male in a suit, 'who the hell wears that in this weather? That must be mighty uncomfortable,' and the female, apparently being dressed more adequately, were eyeing the hooded figure sitting to the back. Another glance brought forth the exact same sensation again. The second male in the group was wearing only pants and shoes. He seemed focused on talking to the other two.

'I guess I should watch out for who to ask. Somehow, I doubt that those guys keeping to their own are affable... I hope I will find what I am searching for,' he thought, considering who to talk to first. Finally making his mind up, he approached the group of three. 'At the very least, they are more likely to reply and less likely to yell at me for no reason.'

"Hello. I am Tiny. Are you participating in this, too?"

(Posting order! Hooded figure, Jay, Yin, Kitti, Patty, Tiny, Aki)

Surveying the group became somewhat of a chore. One after another young faces entered. Each one seemingly more cocksure than the previous. Their confidence belied their naivety, their sense of invincibility caused their weakness to ooze from them in an obvious fashion. The Hooded Figure's fears of seasoned and well taught fighters we all but diminished as he bore witness to the young pup's display of fragility. He wondered then, what would happen if he made his presence known vocally. He thought on it a moment but decided against giving anything of himself away to his opponents. To do so would be the mark of a foolish warrior, and that was not he.

As he thought to himself he became aware that one such contestant was not interacting the same as the rest. He had skulked off to sit on his own and had removed himself socially just as the Hooded Figure had done. The young man seemed of oriental stock, and carried himself as many masters do, with grace and purpose. The Hooded Figure noted this, and became wary of this contestant the more his mind weighed on him. He felt out with his Ki sense and realized the young man's potential. Though the Hooded Figure did not feel immediately threatened by the oriental's power, he knew that in a pinch, all things could change.

He then began to reach out and analyze the rest of the contestants, hoping to gauge their true capabilities. Many of them harbored significant spiritual energies. A surprising mix considering many earthlings could only dream to acquire such astounding levels of strength. It was apparent to the mysterious figure, that the other contestants at least had some level of knowledge of Ki and perhaps knew how to manipulate it. And though their powers seemed insignificant now, if left unchecked they could challenge him later. Even the thought of it made him tense, a feeling he dared not feel when so close to participating in combat.

On a closer inspection of the competitors, the Hooded Figure noted that although the man in business ware held the highest in potential power out of the group, his gait suggested an undeveloped way of using and expressing his capabilities. A sure hindrance in the heat of a battle. The young thai fighter, though strong and brutish, made it known that his brashness and callous attitude was his glaring weakness. This was most likely done subconsciously, which made it all the more valuable knowledge to hold. The young lady, innocent as she seemed, showed a resourcefulness and even a wise nature to her that she either tries to hide, or is perhaps still developing. Unfortunately for her, her inexperience in real combat showed plainly to the Hooded Figures eyes causing any latent intelligence in her to become moot. And as for the chirpy young lad in shorts, his attitude marked him out as a trust-all, an easily manipulated attitude to wield in the field of battle. The Hooded Figure almost felt like laughing to himself. It seemed that the worlds strongest fighters had all gathered together for him, ripe to slaughter. He relished his luck, and bathed in it's juices.

Then, quite unexpectedly, a small rodent creature made it's way into the fold. It held a great store of energy for such a small creature, unprecedented in any other animal-sapien seen before. The Hooded Figure found himself not only surprised but impressed by the creature and became intrigued by it's acquisition of such an energy. The creature was highly alert, and possessed heightened senses that far exceeded those of a human standard. Again, if left unchecked, this creature may have become a very sharp thorn in the side of the Hooded Figure's suture plans.

He took all this in quietly, and entirely still. Letting his gaze follow across the room coldly. e could not reveal his inner thoughts in any physical way, lest the others began to work him out.

Jay kept a very stoic face while his mind rapidly milled around, and he made sure to reply to the womans inquiry. He noticed that she immediately eyed his suit before she finished chewing to speak. Then the hooded figure walked in and his brain went into overdrive as he noted the air of confidence the man or creature or whatevertheheckitis expressed simply by sitting opposite of the other guy in the room.

"Huh...I dunno"

Jay simply said that as a kind of affirmation to the what she asked when she saw the hooded figure, he too was dumbfounded by someone being that tall and simply walking around and swiftly sitting down. But before he could say much else, another competitor entered the area, a brash, tanned man, who had the look of a pro fighter, he was busy messing with the steward, who let yet another person in, this time a very young a friend boy who immediately walked over to their position.

"Names Jay, I'm fighting and I'm pretty sure this lady is aswell."

Jay tried to sound as friendly as possible, something that was proving kind of difficult as the sudden arrival of someone so....chipper was abit off-putting to the man.

"I'm sure we'll all get our chance, and thanks I guess?"

He almost smiled about it when he realized that they thought he wouldn't be seriously fighting with such hot clothing on. Little did they know that through his self-training and experimentation, he'd managed to make the layered clothing very thin and porous, which meant he wouldn't overheat, but the clothes would probably get pretty torn up after a few rounds, something he was prepared to accept as long as he got to fight.

He was about to make a quip about the kid in his mind when he did a double take and saw what seemed to be a sentient raccoon walk over and ask if they were all participating.

"Yea I'm fighting."

Jay was growing more curious than ever about this apparently simple tournament, the raccoon was sentient, and the hooded figure was eight feet tall, and he was pretty sure the silent Asian guy in the corner would be a serious contender...so many subjects to take apart and study.

"This is going to be a very interesting tournament."

Jay said this to the group while he swiveled his head towards the hooded figure, almost feeling as if he was being taken apart and analyzed with superior methods to his own. It made him slightly nervous, but mostly excited for what would come next.

It seemed to Yin that he had been the breaker of the dam as it were, allowing for the rest of the competitors to stream in, in rapid succession. He took time to analyse each one, watching their natural gait, the expressions on their faces, calculating their moods and gauging their spiritual energies. All were indeed worthy warriors, the majority of them matched his own power, some even surpassing it. Yin was unsure about how he felt about that, he had never lost a bout in his life, nor had he even met another person close to matching his power and yet here, one after the other, warrior of great spiritual stature entered as though it were nothing short of common. Yin was both excited and nervous, exited to finally test his true power to it's fullest extent and yet nervous as perhaps, he could be facing his first defeat. He put such thoughts out of his mind, knowing that if he calculated his own demise, it would materialize in the physical world.

Then, quite abruptly and large and intimidating figure loomed his way through the room and quietly sat as Yin had, at the far end of the room away from the rest of the contenders. Yin was heavily disturbed by this figure, not because of his impressive physical stature, not because of his deliberate mysterious form, but because of his complete absence of spiritual energy. Yin had never felt anything like it before, it was almost as if the man wasn't there, although it was plain for all to see, that he was. Yin almost shuddered at the thought of it, but he became suddenly wrapped with the idea that perhaps one of the undead now walked among them. Yin had never thought such a thing even possible, until this moment.

Yin like all good fighters, had been creating his own mystery and skepticism by alienating himself from the other contestants. However the disturbance he felt from this new entity, perhaps hidden to the other fighters, felt overwhelming to him. He could not risk giving away this thoughts, nor his uneasy feelings about this strange fighter, not to the others, and certainly not to him. Quite instinctively, Yin reached for his Erhu in the hopes that it's tones might sooth his quaking spirit. He was well aware that playing it would draw attention to himself, yet could think of no other way to calm himself. He picked it up his Erhu from his things, twisted the tuning knob's to give the string just the right tension, then methodically picked up his bow and began playing one of the more traditional  melodies from his home country. The sweet tones and simple textures to the music helped him, as he knew it would. The music's vibrations, and the concentration needed to play, both took his mind into a state of concentrated bliss. It was like entering a mental oblivion of sorts, with all troubling thoughts evaporating into beautiful, resonating phonetics. 

Eventually, tormenting the people outside with loud bursts of vuvuzela got boring and Kitti strode his way into the locker room itself. The satin nylon of his black trunks shimmered as he moved, muscles bulging with every step, but his feet were oddly quiet on the stone floor. That was because he wore no shoes. Everything about the muay thai fighter was designed not to obscure the nature of his martial art: that every piece of his body was a weapon. Like a weapon, every edge was sharpened to the breaking point. Social grace and sophistication, consequentially, had grown very rusty from neglect.

Like everyone else, seemingly, Kitti also looked at the man wearing a suit and grinned widely. Unlike them, he didn't hold his tongue. It is debatable whether he knows how.

"Is this a business meeting or a fucking tournament? Gyahaha!" As if to accentuate his joke, he planted his vuvuzela to his lips and let loose another quick toot. Then he was off and laughing once more.

Wiping tears from his eyes, he took in the rest of the group while he finished off his fried doughy treat. First of all, there was a woman in here, but only one. It seemed like it would be hard to have a women's bracket with only one female fighter, but that was the tournament's problem not his. The thought she was going to fight against them never crossed his mind, as he swiftly moved on to the harmless looking guy with the friendly smile. His fists ached to punch it. There was nothing more off-putting to Kitti than a friendly opponent. He preferred his fights to be filled with anger and animosity, not good sportsmanship. After that, he found almost the polar opposite sitting at the far corner of the room. Big and hooded and menacing, the shrouded figure drew Kitti's eye. Of course, he wasn't afraid. No way. Then there was another asian man sitting in the other corner, who'd just taken out a sort of harp thing and started playing. Kitti had heard an erhu once or twice, and his first compulsion was to blow his vuvuzela and ruin the melody... this he resisted, but only because his eyes landed upon the last contestant. It was no wonder he'd missed him on first look. He was tiny.

"Has it gotten a rabies shot?" The thai fighter pointed his vuvuzela at the raccoon-man, and strutted over to a bench. "I don't want to catch anything if it bites me."

With a smug grin on his face, feeling like he'd made a good start on pissing off everyone in the room, he glanced sideways at the hooded figure. Kitti's next target. But, he needed a bit of working up to get in that guy's face. Not that he was intimidated or anything. It was just really annoying how he sat there, trying to look all cool. Asshole.

Rakutsu walked towards the front gate and entrance way of the tournament grounds from the long road ahead of him. The place that the tournament would be taking place put Raku in awe. It was build so marvelously and full of passion. It made him even more excited for the up coming fights as, he would be fighting here along with many others. The walked into a crowd of people going on and on about the tournament and other personally things. This was one of the many things Raku hated. He disliked crowded and loud places like this. He loved the quiet of the forest where he trained his ki abilities. He had to thank grandpa for that. He was the man who showe and taught him how to use ki. He heard people predict the winner of the tournament and heard names of famous fighters from all around the world. Raku felt small compared to the names he had heard. He was a newcomer yes, but was still considered a child. The other fighters would never take him seriously. This didn't stop him however, he still walked towards the sign up desk nice and tall and with honor. He had come here to test himself in his abilities and to see if grandfather's training had payed off.
He finally made his way to the sign-up desk and was next in line.
"Hello sir I am here to sign up for the tournament."

"Um how old are you son,"asked the steward. He was surprised someone so young was fighting in the tournament as there wasn't a junior's division this year.

Raku sigh in annoyance as he was expecting this to happen."I am sixteen years old why is there a problem?"

"No sir I just didn't think someone your age would show this year so what is your name?"

"My name is Rakutsu Dai."

"Very well then your all set please come with me to the locker room with the other fighters."

Raku made his into the locker room with the other fighters. He took a short time to scan each one. He saw a hooded figure, a single female fighter, and a business man. He questioned himself as to why someone would wear a suit to a fighting tournament. He also was awe strucked as he saw a raccoon in the room. Raku was more then sure that was impossable. He gave small bows towards each fighter as, he made his way to a locker. He say down on the bench and layed his bag down on said bench. He took out the fighting robes that his grandfather had given him. As of now he was wearing a red bandanna around his neck, a red shirt and black hoodie, a pair of blue jeans, and black shoes. He looked down at the floor at the moment. He could feel some of their eyes on him. He got up and walked towards the group. " I'm Rakutsu Dai newcomer age sixteen what are your names."He decided to make small talk and know about the other fighters in this tournament. He was hoping no one would laugh or anything along those lines.

Absorbing the atmosphere in the large room was difficult. The most prominent was anticipation. Everyone was apparently waiting to either beat someone else up or get beaten up. The small group he had approached were seemingly more at ease, although the large guy donning a suit was inspecting the animal-sapien with a slightly unsettling look in his eyes.

"I have never been to a tournament. Since entering this building, however, I cannot help but share your opinion, Jay. This is going to be interesting."

Then, the disconcerting sensation was gone. Jay, as the guy in suit had introduced himself, had turned his head, now looking at the hooded figure. Tiny thwarted the urge to look in the same direction. Something about that guy made the soft fur in his neck stand on end. He had not had a feeling like that ever since his first run in with a pack of wolves back in his home forest. A thought flashed up in his mind, but the animal-sapien quickly pushed it aside. This was not the time, nor the place, to think about those events.

"Especially from this guy over there," he nodded in the direction of the hooded person, "I am getting that disturbing feeling."

Suddenly, there was a commotion behind him and Tiny turned around to see a brawny guy in shorts, covered in tattoos. It was amazing what some humans were doing to mar their skin. The ruckus came about as that guy, holding one of those hellish devices, was starting to comment on the people already present. At first, a tiny smirk appeared on the raccoon's face when the bruiser voiced his opinion on Jay's attire. As there was a tune emerging from one of the sides of the room, Tiny looked around. One of the guys who had given him the heebie-jeebies had taken out an instrument. The sentient animal had never seen an instrument like that, although it somehow reminded him of a violin, and the guy was apparently versed in using it. He would need some time to get used to its sonority, but Tiny could envision himself listening to that longer. 'I should ask that guy what kind of instrument he is playing,' he thought. Then, the bruiser had apparently noticed him. The snide remark - at least to Tiny's ears - comparing him to a common animal caused his eye and tail to twitch.

"Oi! Did YOU get YOUR vaccination, canvas?" Tiny yelled after the bruiser. "I wouldn't want to contract any diseases taking a bite out of YOU."

He shot the guy a wolfish grin, showing his teeth and made a single biting motion. It did not matter to Tiny whether or not that guy had seen it. If they were to meet, he would have to keep himself under control. There was a certain urge that he would have to suppress. It simply was not nice to bite other people. In some cases, he wondered, there should be exception clauses to any rules.

Finally, he realized that another person had arrived. The quite young looking boy gave them all small bows, a new experience for Tiny. He followed him with his eyes, as the lad was pulling something out of his bag. The next moment, the boy came over, introducing himself.

"Name's Tiny. You wouldn't believe my age anyways, Rakutsu."

For a moment, Tiny had been tempted to shorten the boy's name. Then, however, common courtesy prevailed. Living on his own in the wilderness had not diminished what the animal-sapien had learnt in his year among humans. At least, the boy was not giving him any feelings of uneasiness like someone else in this room. As he let his eyes wander again, he once more remained on the hooded figure for a short moment. A sudden sensation crept down his back that he was being sized up. He did not like this vibe. Not that Tiny could have done anything about it, though.

"Does anyone else feel like they're being watched?"

Akihiko grinned as everyone introduced themselves. Perhaps they were wanting to make new friends too? Or maybe this was what other fighters called "scouting" their opponents? He really wasn't interested in that. It seemed incredibly dishonest. Approaching someone in friendship only to scout them out to exploit a weakness later. The thought of himself doing that made his skin crawl. It was incredibly cruel. He could never imagine himself doing something like that. Akihiko introduced himself to the others that had gathered, doing squat thrusts to pass the time. 

When Tiny mentioned being watched, a chill ran up his spine. Come to think of it, he felt like he was being watched too. The gaze burned into him, making him feel incredibly uncomfortable. "Yeah..." Akihiko mumbled. 'It makes me feel very uncomfortable." He nodded. "Hm..." He shook his head in an attempt to forget about this creepy feeling. 


((Sorry for shortness. D: Been super busy))