[center][h3]A Mediterranean Cuisine[/h3]4th Day of School (Pre Time Skip, After THE LIBRARY), Arata, Victarian, and Iravis[/center] With Lyssa gone, the Phoenix found herself hungry for dinner. No one walked up to the goddess and offered a tribute, so she instead walked into town and looked for a place to eat. With all the modern technology the hellion was exposing her to, the Goddess was looking for something to remind her of home. On one hand, Persians were the people who attacked both Egypt and Greece, her homelands. On the other hand, the Zorostrians did manage to incorporate many of the recipies into their modern cuisine. So here she was, listening to off-egyptian music and waiting to be seated. She decided to show the culture mercy by simply dining there without any money and not killing them. So the goddess entered [i]The Sultan's Palace[/i] and sat herself as she waited for the waitress to arrive and ask for her order. It was a hole-in-the-wall sort of place, small but friendly. Victarian had been strolling through the shopping areas for some time now, stomach growling loudly with a need for food and a short rest. His training began each day in the morning with the rising sun, a series of meditations and a quick weapons routine limbered him up and granted him yet more spirit energy he channeled regularily. Usually he avoided the shopping district, preferring to simply cook his own meals, but nothing on the school grounds as of late demanded his attention and could be left to other members of the Disciplinary squad. "The Sultans palace..?" Viktor was in civilian clothes, simple jeans and a white t-shirt with a gray sweater with no shoes on, preferring sandals instead. He rubbed his chin and decided to enter, accustomed to the usual sceneray of spiritual beings and other strange sights, he took a seat at the far corner with an order of simple bread and water as his sacred tome apparated at his mental command. Like every other day he could not read the beautiful golden words written on the pages but that never stopped his urge to try. Another day, another beating. While Arata hadn't yet gotten fully accustomed to the speed at which Juliann eviscerated him, he was at least getting used to the pain, as well as the fact that it was a smart idea to take off his clothes before facing her. Dying was a pretty interesting experience as well, though it may turn out to be a detriment if he got accustomed to dying. Well, he still has time, and it's only been two days His monthly goal will be to catch her sword. His yearly goal will be to dodge her Sword Arts. Perfectly attainable, no? With some more spare change jingling in his pockets, the oni headed into the Small City and chose yet another random spot to eat. Unable to read any signs, Arata basically just walked into a restaurant nose-first, pushing open the doors and taking in the new sights. Foreign smells, foreign music, and an almost full restaurant. Not bad indeed. As the waitress guided the oni to his seat, Arata plopped himself down, massaged the back of his recently shredded neck, and noticed a red-haired girl sitting opposite to him. [b]"Oh," [/b]he said,[b] "It's one of those places."[/b] Call it paranoia, but the sight of a horned demon entering the restaraunt set off his mental alarms at once, though he always tried to see the best in everyone. Even one of the evil races as such were labeled could have a heart of gold. Iravis raised an eyebrow at the person sitting across from herself. It was clear that this wasn't an ordinary human soul. Or even A soul. Somehow, the spirit of the golden haired man across from herself was ... expansive? But it wasn't large at the same time. After a few more moments of staring, she had to admit her confusion. It didn't make any sense. [color=salmon]"Indeed it is, a taste of home for myself. Is this a stop on your travels, spirit?"[/color] Her curiousity was too large to demand tribute from this ... man? The scholar in Iravis wanted to get to the bottom of this. [b]"Taste of home, eh? Got any recommendations then?"[/b] Arata flipped through the book with pretty pictures once more, not really certain which ones were meat-y, but pleased at least to see only one number beside each of the items. [b]"And naw, got invited here by a midget representative. Promised me a war, but who knew it was supposed to be five days away?"[/b] After a slight pause, the oni shrugged. [b]"Well, at least the food and the women are good."[/b] Iravis raised an eyebrow at the statement. The goddess wasn't sure insulting the academy was the best of ideas, after all Director A would hear it. Then again, this was the same director that allowed her to get blazing drunk two nights ago. That had been fun. But his next words would have spiked the interest in any woman's heart. Men in love or lust were always interesting creatures, even after four thousand years, and the goddess had gotten used to being an object of their admiration. [color=salmon]"The women are good, hmmm?"[/color] Iravis unconsiously ran a few fingers through her crimson hair, a little flustered at what she believed to be a compliment. [b]"Yup," [/b]he nodded with a grin, almost a little too oblivious to Iravis's vested interest in that statement,[b] "Compared to three centuries ago, it looks like they've all become a hell lot stronger. Now I gotta catch up, but it's pretty good, having people to aspire to."[/b] Well that confirmed her guess that this wasn't a normal human. He didn't even deny being a spirit, and spoke of living at least three centuries. So who was this man? Still, the way he spoke of women of the past as weaker did irk the goddesses soul a little. In her youngest years women had many of the rights and dignities that men had, and Artemis and herself were warriors to be feared. [color=salmon]"Were the women of bygone ages sheep to you then, and not equals on the scale?"[/color] Arata scratched his chin, now a little bit curious as to why this red-haired woman cared so much about his impressions on women who were now long gone. It took the oni a bit, before he snapped his fingers in realization. So this was one of those 'feminists' that he heard about during his global travels? Well, whatever, the past was the past, and if she was curious enough, there must have been hundreds of books depicting the glorious history of the Land of the Rising Sun anyways. [b]"Wouldn't call them sheep, but other than the few shrine maidens that have joined the battlefield before, I never formed much of an impression on them before. Nothing significant, really. The few warriors that I've personally faced and can still remember were all men." "No need to endanger the future of the nation if you could send the sons instead."[/b] Iravis had put up with this sort of attitude in the past fifteen hundred years, which invoked a small piece of wrath within her. But Iravis pressed it down, too curious to pursue the issue. [color=salmon]"So warrior, what are you called and where do you come from?"[/color] [b]"I'll ask the same of you, as well as add another: got any recommendations for food? Can't read, and I never ate these things before."[/b] Laughing at his own little quip, Arata extended a hand to shake and said, [b]"I'm Arata, from the Land of the Rising Sun, though now it's known as Japan. And by this era's standards, I am but a student."[/b] Iravis stared at the hand, confused for a moment. What had Alucard and her done previously? That strange version of the Roman salute? A few moment passed before Iravis extended her own hand, grasping Arata's hand with far more strength than could be expected for her size, and attempting to crush it through her divine will, spilling that small piece of wrath within herself into the grasp. This uneducated fool deserved a little pain for the privlege of grasping her hand. She didn't realize that this was the creature Sir Wick had warned her about. [color=salmon]"I am called Iravis, hailing from the deserts of the Nile, the Kingdom of Egypt."[/color] A quick glance down at the menu informed the Goddess of what to eat. [color=salmon]"The Sultan's Kebab should satisfy one such as yourself. A knife should be uneccessary to cut the meat, and there should be enough of that for a pupil such as yourself."[/color] [b]"Oho."[/b] Arata smiled at the light pressure she exerted. Was this a challenge, now? As this woman, Iravis, continued to hold on and apply pressure to his own hand, the oni's grin grew wider. She wasn't letting go, and it looked like she was still holding back her strength, as if provoking him to answer her silent demand, so... [b]"Alright, thanks for the recommendation then, Iravis. I'll take two then. And also..."[/b] His canines grew, a feral light sparking in his blue eyes. [b]"...you really wanna do this?"[/b] Iravis unleashed a sly smile as he started to reveal his features. [color=salmon]"I do not know what you speak of, warrior."[/color] Unable to help herself though, the Goddess applied more of her wrath to the demon's hand, trying to force the man to yield. [color=salmon]"But a look that lacks Chivalry in an attempt to spread fear through a maiden's heart is not a sign of masculinity, but rather the opposite."[/color] [b]"Chivalry? What's that, something you eat?"[/b] And then, Arata [i]squeezed[/i]. A look of surprise shot through her face, for even this strength surpassed what she expected. Bones cracked. Iravis buried her talons into the back of his hand, seeking escape but too proud to ask for it. Blood fell from the grip and the Goddess forced herself to surprsess a scream. The phoenix began to heat her hand up, ready to force her way out if neccessary. [b]"Oh shit!"[/b] The moment the oni felt his grip sink into her bones, snapping them like a bundle of dry twigs, he realized that he completely misunderstood Iravis. Letting go moments before his flesh melted into her own, Arata looked at his own hand, five fresh slashes on them, and then at Iravis's broken one, and immediately swung his head down in a bow, his small horns punching two holes into the wooden table. [b]"Izanagi's balls! Shit, my apologies for misreading your intentions and the basis of your power, Iravis! Didn't realize you were a magicky-type when you started squeezing! Sorry about all that!"[/b] Iravis didn't respond, holding her hand up to her face as she waited for tears to fall. If she spoke, Iravis knew it wouldn't be coherent. Aw hell no, is she crying now? Shit god damn it, he could already hear his oni brethren toss around in their near-dormant state, bitching at his lack of thinking...when they definitely would have done the same. Lifting his head up to look her in the eye, Arata said, trying to keep a calming, comforting tone, [b]"Look, just take deep breaths, alright? I know this really good doctor that'll patch you up good as new! I'll even buy you dinner...though I can't really pay for anything super expensive...but come on, Iravis! Stop those tears! You're stronger than this!"[/b] Clenching his fist in an empowering gesture, he said, perhaps a little too loudly,[b] "Ganbatte!"[/b] From across the room he heard the crunch of bone and the stifled gasp of pain. Accident or not this demanded his attention for the good of a womans honor. In civilian clothes he was not intimidating, just a man with a bit of muscle. As he stood the tome Heavens Piece took on a golden shine for a brief moment as his gear formed on his command, the tome itself locked in golden chains upon his right hip to safeguard. Holy blade sheathed behind the shield, Victarian crossed the room unthreateningly. "Is everything alright?" Victarian glanced down, noticing the signs of violence. Broken hand clenched to face, heavy bleeding on the Oni's hand, damage to the table. A misunderstanding? A disagreement? "Apologies, but I am Victarian of the Disciplinary Squad, you are both students caught in an act of violence. I will have to ask you explain yourselves." Normally acts of violence were treated as a regular occurance, but serious harm was meant to be avoided. Those who chose to forgive were left alone if they did not engage in further combat but others had the right to 'trial by fire' so to speak. Viktor always offered them a chance to prove their innocence with honorably single combat. The gods allowed the righteous victory and that was good enough for him. She only heard bits of what the others had said, instead focusing on not screaming out in pain. As the tears fell on Iravis' hand, the bones moved back into place, correcting themselves. After a few seconds, the pain was gone. When the Phoenix looked up, there was a Knight in shining armor at the table, coming to the rescue of a Princess. The tears stopped and she held up her hand to the knight. [color=salmon]"In our mutual lack of omniscience we misjudged the other's strengths, Sir Victarian."[/color] Did he say something about being on the Disciplinary Squad? Was there a Disciplinary Squad in Liseranna? Director A didn't seem like the sort of man interested in one, but the Goddess looked over to Arata to see if he knew about this. The oni sighed, face meeting palm at his own overeagerness in rising to the challenge. In the end, Iravis cried anyways, and now there was some sort of armored swordsman going up towards them, apparently because of this act of violence. He wondered where this 'Victarian' had been when Juliann beheaded him today, or disemboweled him yesterday, but, well, whatever. [b]"Pretty much yeah...ahahaha..."[/b] He turned to Iravis once more, unable to tell whether or not she was sad, mad, or both, before letting out another sigh. [b]"So that's all there is to it. Unless you want a fight, everything's fine now."[/b] "If the lady will allow it I gladly accept the right to champion her cause." Victarian stood proud over the demon, almost eager to draw steel and have done. Iravis just blinked. She wasn't sure how to respond to this. On one hand, she was curious about what each of their strengths and weaknesses were. In all four thousand years she had lived, the Phoenix didn't recall having met a soul like Aratas. And the book sir Victarian seemed somehow ... familiar. On the other hand, she was really hungry. The decision was made for her when the waitress came by to ask if everything was okay, which Iravis responded to by ordering her meal. [color=salmon]"If you two feel the need to seek satisfaction, do not disturb the other patrons. I'm hungry."[/color] Ah, the eternal debate between feasting or fighting. Should he meet this new challenger? Or eat a meal that he had not yet tried before? What a struggle. What a hard thing to figure out. If he was loaded with money, he'd food fight, but, alas, his wages as a food delivery man didn't work too well at all. So, in the end, what will the oni do? [b]"Heyo, waitress, I'll have the Sultan's Kebab, please. Two, actually. And I'll pay upfront for everything as well. If it's not enough money, I'll wash dishes for free later. Actually...shit, I'll probably have to wash dishes to replace the table anyways..."[/b] After that, he turned to the stuffy armored dude once more, smiled, and said,[b] "I'll crack your skull open after I'm done, if you're willing to wait."[/b] Victarian smiled beneath his helmet at the lax attitude but respected the Oni's desire to recompensate for his destruction. "Apologies for intruding then. The table and your meals are on me, by way of misunderstanding the situation." Victarian pulled out a spare seat and sat down, taking off his helmet and placing it on the handle of his sword while resting both on the corner of the table. "When you are done I will see you disciplined properly." The waitress returned with their meal, even bringing over Viktors simple meal to the new table. "Until then, let us simply enjoy the meal shall we?" Iravis had to resist the urge to laugh. The Knights of England and France would bow their heads at the respect these opposing parties showed eachother before testing their Arms upon eachother. Still, she watched on with a serious expression. [color]"I concur. If you desire it, I shall judge the combat and perhaps choose a worthy companion from among you two."[/color] The Phoenix remembered the Magus games, and whether or not she wanted grades she knew the Director would manage to drag her in somehow. Until that time, Iravis found herself enjoying the meal at Sir Victarian's expense. [hr] They had managed to find a suitable battleground after the meal. A large, circular plaza with a small fountain in the middle. A few benches that would be destroyed soon laid surrounding the fountain. After quickly checking to make sure both parties were ready for the fight and standing a moving a suitable distance away, the Phoenix raised her right arm to the sky. [color=salmon]"For honor and glory, lay on!"[/color] For honor? For glory? No, for fun! Arata cracked his knuckles, his wrists, his neck, a series of cricks and cracks resounding through the circular plaza as power flowed through his body once more. The heartbeats and hunger of 999 oni flowed through his veins and ignited his soul, as the nighttime breeze strengthened. Sweeping off his white cloak and letting it fly off into the cloudless sky, the oni let out a guttural growl, before charging head-first towards Victarian. Literally. Victarian took a wide stance and readied the shield, a swirl of holy spirit energy swirling around his feet and from the shield as he braced for the impact. Like the hammer hitting a gong Victarian skidded backwards from the force with a cringe but refused to fall or lose balance. A good start to be sure. Viktors shield pulsed once in a small wave of expended energy as he began his own forward charge with shield leading. A maelstrom of golden lightning danced across dying lights surface as he charged full tilt at Arata. [b]"Oh! You withstood it? Good!"[/b] WIth another roar of challenge, Arata brought his hands outwards, splaying his fingers as if to welcome the knight's thunderous charge. Victarian was fast, and perhaps the oni would have been satisfied with that speed in the past, but now that he had literally been blindsided a thousand times over by Juliann's sword speed... [b]"HORRRRAAAAAA!!!!"[/b] Sinking his hands through the stone plaza, the oni mustered up all his strength, raising up the section of the plaza before him. If that meant Victarian went flying along with the ground he stood on, great! If it meant Victarian didn't get thrown off, well, raising it might as well be throwing it! Victarian kept the momentum going forward even as the Oni raised a gargantuan section of the plaza from the ground without the use of any locatable magic, indicating to the knight that this particular foe was possessed of impossible physical capabilities. Viktor was not impressed in the slightest. Stone was stone. Victarian slammed his shield bodily into the stone and released the gathered holy energy with a thunderclap of destructive and potentially lethal magic that turned the impromtu boulder into dust and rubble while he charged on still, determined to strike his shield into the foes chest with another thunderclap. Stone was indeed stone, but a wall was still a wall, regardless of how easy it was to break. Dust and rubble smashed into Arata's body, the oni barely sparing a grunt. In that moment where the knight lost sight of him, he met up for another charge. The shattering of the plaza's stone floor was the signal, and the radiant light that spilled from the shield was the target. Digging his feet in, the oni brought both hands onto the electrified shield. A thunderous clap, and then the smell of charred flesh. For the fourth or fiftieth time since he arrived at Liseranna Academy, Arata's world turned white. But even blind, dazed, and quite literally struck by lightning, the oni roared. Victarian was strong, but even the strongest did not weigh an excess of 30 tons. Like tossing a baseball up in the air, Arata flung him skywards with all his might. Victarian kept his calm as the shield struck home, even thinking the fight over for a fraction of a second before feeling the strong tug of his opponent turn into a full throttle toss into the air! Up and up he went and resisted the urge to scream for dear life and instead focus on the simple principle of gravity. What goes up must come down. It was hard to see but based on the toss it seemed likely he was going to come back down atop the brute who had tossed him. Victarian closed his eyes and braced his shoulder against Dying Light as momentum reversed and the plummet began, stockpiling more holy energy into the shield until it shone like a falling star in the nights sky as he fell faster and faster. As he neared the ground he swung the shield from right the left with every ounce of strength in his arm and released the pent up power in a cyclone of biting and slashing golden wind, the force of it even halting his momentum enough that what could have been a bone crushing fall was now what some refhave been a bone crushing fall was now what some reffered to as 'the flapjack' maneuver where you crush your opponent to the floor under the weight of your body and shield. A smart fighter would have, upon seeing the meteoric dive of Victarian, taken the time to make preparations to dodge and counter. But the Night Parade did not run from challenges, nor would they ungratefully avoid receiving their opponents' heartfelt blows. Eyes blazing blue at the falling star, Arata's grin widened, as he reached forwards and tore out the plaza's fountain with one hand. Once more, he lifted both arms out to the side, welcoming the golden winds that clawed and tore at his now shredded clothes and skin (shit, shoulda taken them off before this). It slowed Victarians descent, and in return, made it so much easier to strike. With a counterclockwise swing, timed to slam into the Last Angel's left side moments before the divine shield could meet its mark, Arata howled once more. The air shattered. The night split. And then... A pile of rubble rose in a heave and a groan as Victarian disentombed himself from what used to be a fountain. Magic armor: 1, fountain: 1. Tie score as far as Viktor was concerned on that one. "You're mighty indeed." Looking around at the debree and gigantic holes where once a walkway and a fountain once lay, it was obviously time to call it quits before the two of them ruined this whole area. "I'm afraid we must discontinue this engagement until we find a more suitable stage. The others won't be happy about this.." Victarian did not particularily care about the property damage but it was obvious that this was a fight meant to be FOUGHT. Not something to ease himself into. Sacred Will was still not unsheathed but that would cross the line from a friendly battle to true combat. It was up to Iravis now to determine the winner. The Goddess clapped at the gladatorial match that had just occured before her. She had learned a lot from them, and it was obvious that they were both holding back. She'd think more on their abilities later. [color=salmon]"That is a wise statement, Sir Victarian. Continuing this in a more suitable arena would allow a more satisfactory battle."[/color] So who to pick? It wasn't an easy choice. But after a few moments, Iravis realized who would complement Lyssa and her own powers better for the Games. And the fact that Arata was ... a personality ... would make him easier to control. She gave the knight a small curtsy, before turning to Arata. [color=salmon]"You both fight bravely, and with great valor. However, I feel Arata would compliment me and my allies' abilities better. Would you want to be my companion for the games?"[/color] [b]"Hm?"[/b] Arata massaged his shoulder as Victarian rose from the rubble, apparently not quite as injured as he should have been. Before the oni could launch himself onto the man once more and create more craters in the already-demolished plaza's ground, the knight called a stop to this, and the oni clicked his tongue. So in the end, it wasn't even a proper ending, huh? Maybe he should have settled for smashing him up and down a few times, instead of tossing him in the air then. Nevertheless, Iravis appeared to have her fill of destruction, and Arata took a few steps away. Though not enough to serve as any battle-worthy healing ability, the few wounds that he had sustained were scabbing over already, and outside of how his clothes were essentially rags, the oni looked good to go. When Iravis invited him, the oni simply shrugged, and said,[b] "I got a partner that I already teamed up with, but if you're willing to have her come along, I'm fine with it. Broke your hand, so I guess lending my strength will make things even."[/b] Maybe? Hopefully... Viktor dusted off his armor with a spare hand before dismissing it in a small flurry of dissipating magic, leaving the simple clothed man to observe the destruction with a sigh. He shot a glance at the Oni from the corner of his eye and felt the strangest feeling in his heart, a yearning to finish the fight soon to see just how strong both of them were when they took it seriously but obviously now was not the time. "A good fight, sir. I do hope this has at least left you with a better sense of things. Though maybe we did not establish the punishment I had intended to give you. Still.." Hands at his sides Viktor bowed deep and low to the winner of their spar. "You fought honorably. We will do this again, I am sure." Viktor gave another bow to Iravis and walked away from the plaza to his dormitory room, contemplating how he could overcome the demon the next time they met in combat. Iravis gave a slight curtsy to Arata. [color=salmon]"With your formidible strength, I would be honored to have both of you along. So that makes five of us then."[/color] She didn't bother to say that she didn't really blame Arata for breaking her hand, it was better to have him think he still owed her, at least a little.