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 Posted: Wed Jun 10, 2009 7:46 am
GTB Hotel
The GTB offers its very own luxurious fifteen floor hotel to the tournament's competitors and visitors who have come to watch the Championship between the combatants. This hotel is considered five stars, and for a very low price, too, allowing for easily affordable high quality life, courtesy of the officials of this tournament. Consisting of twelve floors of lovely caramel carpet and well-furnished rooms, no expense is spared.
All rooms are furnished with a bed or two, depending on the preference of their room owner or owners. Room service is always on call in case you wish to order food or drinks. Just be careful or your bill will get expensive. However, any participants get to order as much as they want free of charge, to a degree, of course. They'll know when an official comes to their room.
For those who want to take a swim, out in the back lies a very high class swimming pool with an onsite bar for those who wish to drink in pleasure. There is a two one hour periods when the custodians will need to clean this area, but it's all for the convience of you, the customers to sustain a clean environment during your stay.
So come, relax, and enjoy the GTB tournament!
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Posted: Wed Jun 10, 2009 11:44 pm
A cab would pull up in front of the hotel. It wasn't the nicest looking cab around. It was rusting, squeaking, it's wheels weren't aligned and the light on top didn't turn on even with the switch flicked. The driver didn't bother getting out to open the door for the kid in the back seat. He didn't bother even unloading the bag from his trunk. He popped it so that the young competitor could carry it himself. Needless to say, this cab was not one for the rich. It was one for a kid with a budget. Thank god for the free room service that he was told he could have in the hotel once he was checked in. Pip would stand in front of the grand hotel with a single bag full of clothes and equipment slung over his shoulder. He was wearing his leather jacket zipped up because the sun was down and he was uncomfortable with where he was. He shouldn't be here. He didn't belong. His right hand held the bag while his left hand rubbed it. He wasn't sure what he was doing here. He didn't like why he was being forced to fight. But he would. His left hand would rub a little harder as if to warm him up. Someone would approach Pip wearing a bell-boy's uniform and a great big tip-earning smile, but the young lad wouldn't respond. Pip's long blond hair would cascade down his back as he stared up the front of the hotel. It was nice.
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Posted: Thu Jun 11, 2009 1:38 am
 "I don't do what I do because I want recognition-"The quieted, powerful engine purred as it arrived on the scene of things, not even audible among the traffic, if there was any, and wouldn't be until, nearly, the bike itself was in view.
It was a sleek, smaller bike, red-a bike definitely made for a lady rider, not a burly male one.
And indeed-the rider was a lady, and SOME lady.
Speeding along at a dangerous rate, the dusky skinned outlaw wore neither helmet nor a leather jacket-but a black simple turtleneck sleeveless tank, a pair of jeans, and cloth flat boots. Her glossy black hair was pulled back into a pony tail, which FLEW in the wind behind her in all directions, yet somehow remained untangled.
Longish bangs were blown off her forehead, a rather startlingly beautiful face to look upon-vibrantly colored, Caribbean blue eyes contrasting sharply with her brown, reddish undertoned native skin and dark hair. She had full lips and a curved, feminine shape-yet her arms were toned, and she was obviously very, very fit. A large duffel bag of sorts was strapped to the bike behind her-a large and looming shape compared to the petite size of the woman, who bore(could anyone see this blur) a black circle dotted tattoo on her right shoulder blade, a double v brand pressed into the middle.
She didn't slow down even as she realized there was a freaking CAR in the way of where she would like to be going, and then to further realize-she should probably park up here, actually.
Arian didn't bother with the cab. She slowed just enough to cut a dangerous and barely curved turn towards the hotel-speeding right the ******** up onto the grass or gardens or concrete or whatever-and slowing just enough to screech to a stop without flying over the handlebars.
This chaotic arrival seemed to please the woman. A faint smile was on her lips as she kicked the stand down and gave the bike a pat. It was new. Not hers, belonged to a bitchy woman with guns-but new all the same, and Arian had decided to take the bike to get to where she wanted to be rather than kill the idiot woman who had pointed and shot a gun at her.
She had called Arian small too. It had been annoying. However-the blonde had paid with her left leg being broken and her bike-AFTER Arian had taken the shiny, carefully cared for guns-and dropped them in a garbage disposal, where they had clinked and clanked and generally got ******** up.
Only now did the twenty one year old Courtelli native lift her head to look at the hotel, blinking at it's rather immense height, leaning back further into the bag. Huh. Nice.
She hoped they had watermelon. Dammit.
And then, and only then, did Arian run a hand through her windblown pony tail, the silky stuff falling into place again, somewhat wavy from the ride-as her bangs fell back over her eye, swept impatiently to the side as she lifted a leg and swung it over to dismount, unstrapping and hauling her rather heavy, CLINKING bag over her non branded shoulder.
Time to claim a room and get to work. "I do what I do because they've been wronged, and I want to make it right."
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Posted: Fri Jun 12, 2009 1:59 pm
Who in the right mind would actually WANT to skip out on the sights this city had to offer? To take any form of transportation would dull the experience to such a degree that coming out here simply wouldn't be worth the while for anyone fresh to these wondrous sights. So as those cars whizzed by and motorcycles roared through the city streets this sole competitor would gaze in wonderment at the glamorous lights dancing across every sign and building, the vast waves of endlessly vibrant people, and even the very beauty that cascaded about the city's every ounce itself. She enjoyed every little bit of it, and would simple stroll along that sidewalk as she turned her eyes to every sight she could lay those eyes on.
"Umph!"
A sudden bump and a bit of clatter.
The wandering blacksmith shook off the daze only to realize that she'd nudged into another passer as she'd gone strolling along at her mindless pace. It was a bit embarrassing for the soul, sure, but not to the degree in which she'd freeze up completely. With only a moment of hesitation she'd stoop down to the ground and help gather up any possessions that might have spilled over for the pedestrian and continued to mutter apologies endlessly to the unfocused figure whom she paid little heed to for the time being.
Were some random rper to pick up on this they'd notice the blacksmith to be of a rather fine size, about 5'9" or so, and one would notice the care in her appearance and movements as her tanned skin felt smooth and soft to the touch, her motions careful as to not disturb the energy coursing about the space around. Her voice carried a gentle tone which rang a sweet chime of innocence within its cords, those sandy-gold eyes soothing and lost in their own realm. And while strung up with chords of leather with a travelers sack on her back, the clothing itself seemed to be well-kept and rather finely crafted for the sort of use it'd gone through in its time.
So with a flick across that brunette hair she'd finish sorting the items out before her fingertips, carefully ensuring that any loose items were tightly kept within a stable base before handing it back to the pedestrian once more. And with a slight bow she'd let that gentle voice of hers ring out once more, a slight blush overcoming her face like a tidal wave of doubt. "Oh... I'm... I'm terribly sorry..." She'd bow again. "I hope that everything is as it was."
A bit shy, but thus was the nature of the blacksmith.
If nobody felt like picking that line up she'd simply continue on to the hotel and commune with some fellow competitors there. It would be a bit of a walk though, but it wasn't like she was really in a rush. After all... there was still so much left to see before hitting that final mark for the day.
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Posted: Fri Jun 12, 2009 9:37 pm
"You look like you're in need of a helping hand."
A familiar voice popped up from the crowd behind Jurie. He was too far away to help her pick up the poor businessman's documents, and by the time he had broken through the throng of people the little blacksmith was already bowing and delivering an apology. He strode out from the spontaneous circle rather calmly, as if he had planned the entrance all along.
Reyin himself hadn't changed much from their encounter at the Black Sands. His blonde hair was a little less sun-bleached, his skin was more tan and less red, and he wasn't wearing swimming trunks. In place of those he was wearing a pair of khaki cargo shorts and a stylized blue t-shirt with a Ye-Olde English-esque R square across the center. A little flashy, sure, but Reyin was young. Craving attention pretty much came with the territory. The backpack he sported was slightly less attention-grabbing, but it did help point out that the blonde college-aged human was, if nothing else, very good at being a tourist.
He did still have his sunglasses on (pretty much oblivious to the fact it was night), and that same sincere, yet slightly cocky, grin plastered over his face.
"Walking around a city takes some getting used to."
His right hand swept back towards one of the pouches on the side of his backpack, fishing out a brochure and offering it to the blacksmith. Inside contained a map of the city, along with some of the more popular attractions.
"So before I offer to take you out for a night on the town, I have to know."
Ever the charmer, Reyin seemed to be talking a mile-a-minute, caught somewhere between being overbearing and friendly.
"What brings you into town?"
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Posted: Fri Jun 12, 2009 10:33 pm
Unlike most of the competitors arriving in vehicles, Damon preferred his own special means of transportation. Once he saw a nice clear area near the hotel, he dropped out of flight and landed gently on the ground like a skilled paratrooper. Psychic Flight was the best, and most practical means of getting from one place to another, especially in world like Gaia.
For a moment, Damon stood silent and stared up at the large hotel. A fancy five star place, just like the last hotel he had stayed at some months ago while competing in Heaven or Hell. Actually, this place looked a little bit nicer and the surroundings were a bit more expansive. Once he finished taking in the sights, he pulled off his glasses that he used as shields against the wind, and stuffed them into his right pocket.
The black scarf wrapped around his head kept his silver hair from dropping into his face during flight, but he didn't take it off. It was comfortable. His other clothes were basic, a white shirt and black pants. Clothes he planned to fight in. Just encase of incidents where his clothing was shredded, he had brought a duffelbag along with him.
Damon walked up towards the hotel briskly, entering through the front doors and scanning the area like a curious, or perhaps lost, tourist. As soon as he found his way to the desk, he gave the man behind the counter his name, and she gave him a pass to his room. It was nice not to have to wait for the red tape to get cut or others to show up. For once. Without bothering to take in who was had arrived, he made his way towards his room. Damon planned to go out and explore after a nice relaxing nap. Flying near half-way across the world could be tiring on a fellow.
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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 12:00 am
See motorcycle. See motorcycle run. Run, motorcycle, run.
The big, flaming-skull-emblazoned machine that looked like it was way overcompensating for something screeched to a halt in front of the hotel, with a big-a** biker dude on it. Black leather, apparently about 300 lb of muscle and RAEG, eye twitching behind sunglasses with flaming decals on the arms, and holding bottle of "Fu-Q" brand vodka.
The biker kicked over his motorcycle, roared randomly, and flared a black aura of DOOM. He was not a guy to be ******** with.
Then he pulled off a puch from his pants, and removed some stuff. A sword that logically shouldn't have been able to fit in there, a gun with the same property, a whole pile of junk...a Bag of Holding, apparently. A bellhop rushed over to the guy, and asked for his name.
"I'm not competing."
And with that, the actual person tumbled out of the bag.
"It's unfomfortable in there," the two-foot tall Esouna complained as she pulled bits of barbed wire out of her hair.
And, fast forward. The place, a butchery nearby. Esouna knelt down over a plate, picking at the remaining meat, and ignoring the hiding humans wondering who the hell this was that just raided their store. Every time she took a bite, some of the knowledge of Altusanima locked itself out her head, but the fairy-like woman didn't much care right now. One of the tenets of that art basically forced her to go vegetarian, but after quite a while of waiting in that bag with no food around, her body had decided it wasn't worth the price. Finally satisfied (for now), the fairy-like woman took off in flight.
Fast forward, this time with gusto. Esouna actually entered the hotel. Though a window. Remember, the fairy-thing is only two feet tall. She wasn't familiar with the process of actually signing into a hotel, so she completely ignored it.
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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 2:06 pm
Jurie kept her concentration on the task at hand and was a bit oblivious to Reyin's approach, too befuddled by her blunder to get that tunnel vision away for even a moment to greet one of her few friends. What with being fresh in this world and all she had very little knowledge of people or places, knowing only a location or two which were pleasant to visit and where she felt a slight bit at home.
None the less by the time Reyin reached her side the blacksmith was all too aware of his presence, a sharp spike of energy shooting through her movements like someone just jacked her happy into full gear. She'd meet him with an eager bow, unconsciously making a second one before gazing up to him as a sheer sense of excitement sparkled within those sandy-gold eyes, a broad and overly joyful smile playing across those dainty lips.
"Mister Reyin!" She'd cheer out loud, her pleasant and careful voice giving way to the excitment of the moment, pausing only to accept the brochure and to give him a moment to speak his kind words. All the while she'd sort of fumble around, fidgeting with the paper between her fingers and overall seeming ever so restless with that man standing but a arm's length away. "Oh a guide would be most wonderful dear Reyin and the company even greater! For a bristle or two of warm faces make any occasion all the better to attend to!"
A tug at her mind sent her energy down, having to remind herself not to get too carried away in public. After all, image was very important to the blacksmith, and to allow herself to get so carried away so easily was simply not proper. Composing herself and attempting to settle that vibrant flourish welling within her grasp to a quiet whirl, Jurie would carry on as calmly as possible, her smile and voice still brimming with joy. "Oh, I came here this day to attend a sort of ritual that the outsiders participate in. Its some manner of festivity in which two individuals fight one another to better understand their limits, or something to that tone. A.... What do you call it..." She paused as she seemed to ponder the word for a while, her soft expressions furrowing with deep thought. "A tourniquet I think..." That was wrong, so very wrong. "Oh... and you Mister Reyin? What are you here for today?"
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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 4:53 pm
Being poor, or rather poorer than you used to be, sucks. Gone were the fancy limos and helicopter and fancy jets that once carted you from place to place, and in their place were the evils of public transportation. Those beings the 3 P's: poop, piss and peasants. And Benjamin would not lower himself to such a level as to take such despicable forms of transportation. He had always traveled in style, and so he would continue to travel in style even with a measly middle class income.
So...instead of pulling up in cab or a motorcycle or on foot or in a bag of holding, he came in a liquor truck. A hotel such as the one provided for the Budokai Tournament came provided with a full stocked bar, and as such liquor trucks came to this place frequently. It took but a like money and royal charm for Ben to pay for half the stock and trip to the vehicle's intended destination. And when he arrived, half that he had paid for was just about used up.
"How?" One might ask. How does one many, even a royal pain and seasonal drinker such as Benjamin finish half a truckload of booze by himself?
The simple answer, he doesn't. Some of the liquor went to sanitizing the portion of truck he rents, some went to his vodka throne and some went to the several girls he paid for to entertain him on the way. Even then, it was a very exciting adventure to see how fast the group of 4 couple both drink and burn off all that alcohol. Suffice it to say, he had a very enjoyable ride.
So enjoyable in fact that he was still in the truck partying it up while the other half of the stock was being carted off into the hotel.
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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 6:45 pm
Vrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr Speeding off the horizon came a new vehicle, tearing down the highway towards the hotel. The engine rumbled as the black beast of chrome and steel screamed down the asphalt, coming in through one of the myriad of roads that led to the hotel's parking lot. The driver steadily accelerated, the roar of the engine hailing the arrival of the car's owner to anyone within listening distance of the parking lot. Above the din of the engine and any nearby crowd, a song could be heard blaring from the car's radio. The Trans-Am screeched to a halt in a reserved parking space, the growling engine silenced along with the tumult of sound that came from the radio. The driver door opened, and the driver stepped out; all 6'3'' of him, garbed in black leather and blue denim, along with the usual gloves, shades, and bandanna-headband. The returning champion, Deitric Jocasta, had arrived. Heads turned and people surged to meet his approach as he walked towards the entrance of the hotel. Cameras flashed and questions were hurled at the tribesman, mics jammed into the air around him to vie for his answers. One gloved hand reached up and brushed them aside, while he murmured " No questions," as he passed. His features were calm, and he didn't shy from the flashes of the cameras. His shades blotted that out, at least. The warrior opened the doors to the hotel, and disappeared inside, leaving the media to go after any other participants who were about. He waved away a bag handler who offered to take his things, and quietly signed in before disappearing into an elevator to find his room.
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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 8:56 pm
A man appeared from around a corner shortly after Deitric did. He too, like several others came on foot. He merely strolled towards the establishment at a steady pace. Wearing a gi and carrying a small sack that was tied to his back he did his best to appear inconspicuous. Although he did happen to be a returning participant not many questions were sent his way and unfortunately for anyone who spoke to him his soul response was.
"When you are content with yourself all answers will be made apparent."
That being his only statement he continued on, not hiding from the cameras that may or may not be going off for they did not concern him. Strolling into the building before him his first order of business was checking in.
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Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 9:42 pm
While Reyin didn't exactly show it outside of his smile, he was happy to see that Jurie recognized him. He hadn't spent a lot of time getting to know the blacksmith, but he felt like the girl was a kindred spirit all the same. Both were pretty naive (albeit one moreso than the other), suffered from extreme cases of wanderlust, and seemed to share in their desire to do some good in the world.
"Glad to see you still remember me Jurie."
As she took the brochure, Reyin jammed his hands into the confines of his pockets, leaning back and letting her thumb through the thing at her leisure. He had to admit, she was kind of cute while fluctuating between embarassment and excitement. That was probably the reason why he stayed quiet for just one awkward moment too long, finally shaking his head and chalking it up to her misinterpretation of what the GTB actually was.
"Tourni...quet?"
He paused for a moment, then shook his head and laughed.
"You mean tournament? You're here for the tourney? No way!"
And, to answer her question, Reyin removed his hands from his pockets and tapped his fingers against his chest.
"Me too!"
What a strange turn of events this was. Of all the places he expected to encounter Jurie, this was definetly the last. Nothing really against the blacksmith, it was just that he didn't picture her as the fighting type, especially not after their last encounter. He managed to quell his surprise, if only to continue the conversation.
"So, the hotel isn't for another few blocks..."
Reyin reached up and cupped his chin, casting his gaze skyward as though he were digging for a resolution that was just beyond his grasp.
"There's a sweet rotating restaurant nearby. Get an awesome view of the city up there, too. Whaddaya say we give that a whirl?"
Pun unintended, Reyin jerked his thumb over his shoulder and nodded his head in the direction of the 'Satellite', a large tower with a circular restaurant nestled right in the middle, spinning slowly.
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Posted: Sun Jun 14, 2009 12:13 pm
Though it was much less of a surprise that Reyin would enter a tourney, the visible shock was no less than it would be had she been taken off guard. It was a great coincidence that the two of them would participate in the same festivity, much less to meet each other on the street like this. Jurie couldn't help but think that perhaps this was all some sort of intricate message the spirits were sending her, perhaps that she should keep a closer eye on the man in the future. But for now she could only smile with glee at keeping the man company for a while longer.
"What a strange turn of events!" She'd cheer out once more as she jogged over to his side to take a good look at the distant restaurant, the excitement starting to brim over the edge once more. "Its hard to think that even for a moment we'd meet up here in a place like this and to participate in the same event none the less! It really makes one wonder how the string ties us together so fondly." A slight giggle rose throughout her words, almost as though she were a bit giddy about the whole situation. "But I'm glad, Mister Reyin, to cross paths with you once more."
She turned her head to the side, allowing her short brunette hair to tumble over her shoulder in a loose sway as she studied the familiar man a bit closer. It was hard for her to grasp why she felt so comfortable around the man, they just simply had a way of clicking she supposed. One way or another she'd start making her way towards the tower with a bit of spring in her step. "Oh but we have all the time in the world to catch up and share the stories of our ways later." She'd bow her head to him softly before continuing on. "For now lets enjoy our first meal together and take a moment to rest before the tournqu... Uhm... Tournament begins."
A sweet girl with a sweet smile, definitely the most naive out of the two. Still, Reyin seemed like a good man who was still learning about the world himself. There was no better man to explore this new world with than the man that was before her, and so she would follow him anywhere to simply enjoy her time and the sights that their moments together had to offer.
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Posted: Sun Jun 14, 2009 12:27 pm
Zaine walked up to the hotel, grinning widely at the sheer beauty of it. "Hope I can earn my stay here." he says dryly to himself shouldering his sword he makes his way to the entrance and asks the woman behind the counter where the tournament participants will be staying. She gave him the directions of his room and he bowed to her thanking her for his time. He took his keys and payed one of the employees to take his few belongings to the room, he was looking to meet some of his fellow competators.
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Posted: Sun Jun 14, 2009 1:29 pm
Now, while many of the fighters in this tournament seemed to have a semi-flashy or intriquet enterance, ol' Kuroha preferred walking there instead. Whatever happened to the good old fashioned walk-in? No mob of fans, nor flurry of microphones from anxious first-year reporters, no nothing. The samurai was simple in his enterance really, carrying his blade Kanesada at his side with nothing more than a case of cothing in one hand, and what looked to be like a simple ring on the other, as well as a bow hung around his midsection. That about does it for appearance and equipment, so lets get down to the scene itself!
Several people's attentions had been caught by an old competitor that Kuroha knew at one time, Deitric Jacosta, so it as easy for the ronin to simply slip in the front door unnoticed.
"Well he's certainly changed a bit," said Kuroha, grinning at the natives mob of new people."Or maybe not." It seemed the way of publicity hadn't taken Deitric into a deep abyss after all, though materialism held it's own in his image. Deitric followed close behind Kuroha, whom had ducked over to the check-in stand for a room and key. By now the samurai had this tournament thing down, since they all seemed to hold parallels in terms of housing and entertainment. He asked the woman behind the counter after giving him his name, and she replied with "Room 822, Floor 8 sir. Good luck in the torunament!". Giddy young girl she was, and the samurai let her know that with a sarcastic, funny sounding "Tha-ANK You miss ladY!", which caused her to look quite... disturbed. See, even age catches up with the ol' samurai once in awhile, when he's in a good mood at least.
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