Pascale Isadora Buckley
—♫♪ Laissez-Faire ♫♪—

It'd be great to get out of the stuffy airship, get some fresh air, and maybe stretch a bit—do what a cat does best under the rays of the sun. Of course, she wasn't that fond of napping when exciting things were looming on the horizon. Edging closer to the storage room, Pascale paused, noticing footsteps that weren't quite in tandem with her own. Narrowing her eyes, she looked around, turning to see that there was not a soul in sight. There was always a chance that she was just going crazy, which she didn't quite mind, as long as it didn't impede her chances of becoming a huntress. Then again, there was a wet substance dripping from her bangs. Letting a glob of it foll onto the tip of her finger, she gave it a quick cat-like lick, smacking her lips together to get a good taste. Stepping back slightly to avoid anymore of the delicious, viscous liquid, Pascale turned her attention upwards and tilted her head.

"I think you dropped something. Pork brain, is it? It could use a bit of salt, maybe some cayenne pepper. Maybe not... I have an odd inclination toward spicy foods," she held her hand up, smiling as she spotted the figure above her. Her eyes immediately darted to the side for a second, "I wonder why..."

Taking out a handkerchief from her pocket, she fiercely rubbed the top of her head to remove the sauce. Odd that one would make pork brains into a sauce, but Pascale was never one to judge anyone based on their choice of food, unless they had cannibalistic intentions and were an immediate threat. Or just plain saw her as food. She had yet to come to that, aside from a few harmless Grimm creatures. Of course, she was getting side tracked as her eyes continued to follow the stream of 'special sauce' that hit the floor.

"I take it you're rather fond of lathering a surplus of this sauce onto your food," Pascale looked back up, arching a brow in question, "I guess it's nice to meetcha, the name's Pascale. I hadn't had the pleasure of running into any other students aboard the airship, or at least ones who wanted to talk to a girl with cat ears." Smiling brightly, she shoved her hand up toward Rygar, despite the distance between them, offering her immediate acquaintanceship and not necessarily noticing that he'd planned the whole sauce thing prior to catching her attention. Of course, Pascale tended to be oblivious to any direct bullying, insults, or anything else people would usually find offensive.

Daiki just scoffed and ignored the newcomers to their little confrontation. "I just hate bullies, and your friend here was being one." He explained to the guy with the gun pointed right at him. "Also, I believe in never pointing your weapon at something you don't intend to kill. So," He stepped forward so the six shooter was pointed right at his head.

"Unless you want me dead, get that thing away from me." The little argument ended quickly though, as everyone sort if went their separate ways. Daiki noticed the boy he had helped out was walking off with a different girl this time. He narrowed his eyes on disbelief.

"You're welcome." He whispered sarcastically with a mock blow at the boy's retreating back. Was everyone from the city so rude and self-absorbed? He sighed and took a seat on a bench, leaning back against a wall. He fished out his harmonica and started playing it, belting out a simple tune as he waited for the ship to land.

*Morella Cinder*

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Morella was stopped before she left the room, by a girl with red hair and blue eyes. From under her hood, she had a quizzical look on her face, before the girl said her name. Sayuri...Mujona, I remember her, she thought, recalling the bouts she saw at the graduation exams. Semblance increases power in a limb, she uses bandages to keep the power from tearing her arms apart and increasing her power... she thought, as she was asked her name. Morella simply replied, "Not important," in answer to the question, moving past her gracefully while keeping her hood low. She saw the other girl checking her weapon, as Morella thought about hers. She tightened her grip on her bag, her boots inside clinking together as she pulled up the bag higher on her shoulder. She hadn't shown them to anyone yet, but she wasn't in the mood for meeting new people again, as the last time nearly caused a fight.

As she tried walking away from the new girl, Morella spotted a boy sitting on a chair, with familiar brown hair and garage stains on his clothes. She didn't smile, because she just didn't smile, but she quickly made her way to the one familiar face she knew and sat next to Tarkus. She plopped down, slouching as she crossed her legs. "Hey, Tark. I hate meeting new people," she said, setting her bag in her lap. She'd spent a lot of time in the same work shop he did, as they both were very interested in weapon experimentation and crafting. All she knew about him was his name, the weapon he used, and that he came from Mistral. And that he might have an uncle named Leon, or Leo. Or Leonard. She didn't know much else, and he was the closest friend she had. However, she could tell he'd had some loss in his life, not because they talked about it, but because she could see the signs. She'd been through the same.

She reached into her back, pulling out a worn cardboard box that gave metallic clinks as she tapped him with it. "Tried the cylinders your suggested, graphite worked surprisingly well for my chambers. Here's the rest, if you need them," she said, setting it beside him, apparently oblivious to his despair of the metallic gauntlet stuck on his arm. She added, "Oh, and you finished with my plasma lathe yet? I don't need it, just wondering," she asked, sighing.

---

~Oliver Kootz~

/M\
/MMM\

Oliver's ears pricked as he heard some music playing, glancing down the hall and seeing a student sitting in a nearby chair playing a harmonica. "Ah, hang on, Casty, I'll be back in a bit," he said, handing her back her book and swinging off to the other side of the hall. He easily walked from chair back to chair back, keeping his balance though his body was shifted away from the wall, as he neared the one playing. Hooking a leg through a ceiling support, he hung upside down again and pulled out a harmonica of his own. He waited, listening to the guy play as he got the melody, and came in with one of his own that blended with it.

Orion listened to the woman recount her name: Reya Descarta huh? He could honestly say he'd never heard of her. Then again, it was unlikely he would recognize anyone who namedropped around here. He'd not followed the adventures at Signal since his graduation and since his graduation he'd spent a year 'off the map' as it were. Either way, it hardly mattered. The woman...Reya was being awfully polite, if not a little bit more friendly than a man was to expect, and she'd extended her hand to shake. He offered his in return, gently wrapping the overlarge fingers of his hand around hers and shaking with an undue level of caution. He might be wearing his Bracer but it seemed like a social faux pas to rip the arm of a person who was clearly playing the socialite and trying to make a friend of Orion. He paused for a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small bag of sweets: before offering her one.

"I don't know about you, but the food they were offering was too rich for my taste."

Before he listened to her answer, Orion's head turned as the braggart situation began to escalate.Now the were two groups being equal and opposite levels of brash and stupid. He slowly felt an appreciation for the group of the Jock's friends: as they focused on defusing the situation. What Reya seemed to have missed in his speech was just who he was pointing the 'Braggarts' part of his annoyance at. None of the two parties were innocent or clean. He sighed heavily as he listened to the announcement that, well, announced the impending end of their journey.

"Since you seem pretty in-tune with people's skills and stuff, is their anyone I should keep an eye on? You seem reliable at this sort of thing, so I could use your help."

In his attempt to maintain his ruse, Rygar kept his true emotions hidden behind a mask of worry. "I am so sorry about that..." Rygar deactivated his Semblance and landed back onto the level floor with a thud, but otherwise no worse for ware. He was unsure if this girl was planning on getting vengeance on him or legitimately had no issues with having his spoiled lunch fall upon her head. It was something that he had plans to work off of though. He was fairly uncertain with her gesture though: they didn't do handshakes back where he came from. You only extended your hand when you were expecting to receive something, so he figured that she wanted something from him as payment for what he done. But he also knew that this would only apply to people native to his hometown, and it was unlikely that she came from there. Still, it would make for an interesting interaction, so Rygar handed the girl his container of spoiled brain paste. "Are you okay? I was planning on eating that away from the others, cause it kind of smells bad and I know that, but I like it so..." It was almost too difficult for him to maintain his ruse, but he was determined to uphold it until he could safely laugh off the entire event. Also he planned to keep his name a secrete; people can find out about him through his exploits. Or remain completely unknown but through rumors and myths. He was good for either.

As he continued to act out his apologies, the girl commented on her cat ears. He didn't really have anything against Fauna, though they did have a disproportional amount of involvement in the drug trade. Hard times for them he supposed, but it was convenient cause just about every Fauna he shook down had a stash on them, or knew where to get them at. He doubt most of these fauna knows where he could hit up some more of his poison, but it wouldn't hurt to ask. "I don't really know what you mean by that, Pascale..."

For some reason, it felt like five minutes was taking an abnormally long amount of time to come. Weird, but Arara made no note of it. The distortion of time wasn't her problem, after all, and instead turned her attention back to the ratty looking kid with some cheap-looking weapon. It almost sounded like he had no idea how the minds of any type of competitive person worked. But still, the combat exams...Arara remembered those. She didn't participate in them, of course, since her credentials were already good enough to get her in, but she knew of them. One on one fights between students, in which they were scored based off their victory and their skills. So she nodded, planting her spear onto the ground in a lazy dip.

Technically, if she made it clear that this kid was under her 'protection', she could use her influence to get that Prince brat to go away, considering their family's relationships, but it sounded too much of a bother. Instead, she just pressed on for more answers. Arara brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and asked, “Mind explaining how you forced a tie? I could see why he would be upset if he was besting you in all physical and skill-based areas, but you forced a tie due to some cheatshot at the end.”

Pausing for a moment, and tilting her head in thought, she finished with an example, “Sorta like when a professional boxer loses his championship title to some underdog who got lucky. Not a nice feeling to go sleep on.”

IC:

"Truthfully, it wasn't the fairest way to end a match." Alistair admitted, leaning against the wall. "He was ahead in the match. Not out of skill, the difference in skill wasn't very large, certainly something I could have overcome. Not easily, mind you, but I could have."

"No, his advantage was in equipment." He took Hell out of its sheath, hefting it in one hand. "I put both of mine together with... Well, anything I could get my hands on. Hell here probably doesn't have a single part produced in the last six years, and a few parts had to be modified to work at all."

He almost seemed embarrassed while describing his weapon, acutely aware that compared to almost everything here, his really was a junkyard weapon. He was proud of managing to build them, and he was quite happy with how they usually worked, but it was a simple fact that their parts were obsolete, even if he'd managed to wring a competitive level of ability out of the .

"Even that might have been fine. Match was far from over. Then Hell malfunctioned, wouldn't fire, no matter what I did. Examination later showed that one of the parts had worn itself out, but regardless it wasn't good as anything but a club anymore. Which left me with my other weapon. As it stood then, I wouldn't have been able to win. I might have managed it before, but not after that."

"So I pulled a desperation move. I slashed with Heaven, and when he blocked, I locked the weapons together. And then I hurled a red Dust canister at his chest, so it exploded on impact, taking both of our auras into the red, and thus, force a tie."

He paused, thinking for a moment. "Not the most honorable way to tie. But I didn't really have a choice. It was either try it, or watch as years of effort went down the drain."

Pascale Isadora Buckley
—♫♪ Je Ne Regrette Rien ♫♪—

Was he offering her the sauce?

Pascale blinked, trying to make do of what he was giving her. With a shake of her head, she took a step back to size him up a bit, determine what kind of person he could be. There was a weird, almost forced inflection on his words, kinda like when a kid has obviously done something wrong, but lies anyway. Then it hit her, the way he acted toward her in particular and the question at the end. He though she could get him the goods. By goods, she meant certain chemical compounds people tended to make to get fixed on, get high off of, make their dreams come to a faux kind of fruition. She was a faunus after all and that was one of the many kind of stereotypes that were often pinned onto her kind. Pascale wouldn't condone such usage of harmful substances, but that was by no means an excuse to harshly berate someone for bad decisions. However, it did mean that she could possibly pull off some elaborate prank in which she could get a few laughs out of, even if the mountain of a man before her could splatter her along the walls. If it mean fun, it would most likely be worth it.

That's a terrible excuse to get yourself killed.

Smiling brightly, Pascale put both hands behind her back and proceeded to turn on her toes. "I don't know," she nonchalantly mumbled, keeping her eyes on him, "What do you think it means?" It was just a matter of getting him to fall for it and not catch her mid-prank. The whole pig brains on her head scenario was long out the window. She would never throw out shenanigans simply because she was miffed about something meaningless. Pascale's intentions were that of pure enjoyment that she always gets out of seeing someone's face when they understand they've been played, whether it be one of calm acceptance, extreme anger, or mild sorrow. Though, she did like to anger and irritate people more often than not.

"I know this guy who lives here in Vale, a member of the White Fang. Calls himself the Nezha," she explained, walking toward the storage room now, "Who supplies a few of us regularly with amplified Dust, some chemically enhanced herbs, all that good stuff. He recently gave me a batch of something new. At the moment, it's just a regular chemical name: Miopic Dorphensicate. I think, something like that; he intends to give it some weird street name. I haven't tested it out yet, but if you want to give it a go, then by all means..."

Pascale smiled as the doorway slid open. She leaned against it and folded her arms, "Keep following." With that, she sauntered by a few of the staff and disappeared around the corner.

Tarkus' little trip to despair town was interrupted when he heard someone plop down in the seat beside him, he'd been staring at the gauntlet wondering how to get it off, but he still recognized the voice. It was Morella, he remembered they'd gone to Signal together and shared the same Workshop, he also recalled that she'd been sort of distant, but he never tried to pry into her life story, some things were just better left alone he figured. They'd gotten along well, and he wasn't too surprised to see her on the ship to Beacon, not like an education from Signal could net you any other sort of school, but then again she was top of the class. He somewhat calmed down when she brought up the suggestion he gave to her for the Midnight Shadows. He straightened up a bit and said:

"It's just like I said, Graphite compound is cheaper, is easier to lube it with, and you can make the stuff yourself! Uh...Yeah, I finished up the work with the plasma lathe, didn't turn out as well as I thought, who'd have though tasers and bear-trap fists didn't go together?" He scratched the back of his head with his right arm, suddenly an idea came across his mind as he turned to face her, with a somewhat desperate look on his face as he brought Zoll within her view. "Cindy, you ever seen anything like this? Fits like a glove and I can't find a way to take the thing off..." He said as he tried once again to tug at the gauntlet which was stuck fast to his arm.

As the boy explained how that combat exam went down, Arara closed her eyes again, letting the description play itself out in her mind. Prince Smithing would probably have provided their heir with some metal armor, so she could see how the difference in equipment would have been a bit of a problem. Still, it was a bit odd that the combat examiners didn't provide a set of standardized equipments for the usage of the students, but seeing how there was less focus on 'martial arts' and more on 'personal fighting style' here in Vytal, Arara accepted that as a cultural difference, not a fault of the exam itself. Smiling a bit about his comment regarding how old his weapon was, she said, interrupting him for a second, “Just so you know, my weapon here is a few centuries old, and I'm fairly confident that a lot of kids use inherited weapons.”

Her smile faded slightly at the mention of a malfunction then, wondering whether the judges cared about in-match weapon malfunctions as well. The strategy was sound, if a little bit odd. If she remembered correctly from that one kingdom-wide competition, the heir used an axe, most likely two-handed. Yet this boy before her managed to match it with one hand, apparently, using the other hand for a suicide attack. Interesting...perhaps she should help him after all.

At his last comment, Arara decided that the judges were incompetent after all. If a loss resulted in not being qualified for joining Beacon, no wonder she didn't need to do the Combat Exams. To think that the judges were so black and white about such things. Atrocious.

Flicking out her wallet and drawing out a black credit card, Arara asked, “Seems fair enough. I'd give you three pieces of information then. One: take better care of your equipment before important dates. Two: you can resolve this issue the fastest, if he's truly an 'honorable' person, if you rematched him and either won or lost in a fight without suicide attempts. Three: if you want to provide blueprints for your weapon, I can request a shipment of weapon parts from Prince Smithing and it'll probably prevent your weapon from malfunctioning. The irony will be delicious anyways, if you beat him with weapons constructed from his factories.”

Her smile turned just a shade darker, as she playfully rolled the credit card on her knuckles.

Grizel seemed frozen in her smiling expression as the previously-meditating student made her views abundantly clear. Well, it was hardly the most surprising thing in the world, there were bound to be a few idiots in the airship. Oh well, it just meant Grizel had at least one face to re-arrange for the greater good.

When the girl strode past, the faunus only chuckled, as if she were some villain planning a hero's downfall, Her way of warning the girl that she wasn't going to take any crap, from her or anyone else. What kind of Huntress would she be if she couldn't even stand up for herself?
Well, it was best to save the conflicts for their arrival at Beacon. More room to maneuver on Academy grounds and all that. For now, best to just wait out the last few minutes and..
Grizel's ears picked up the sound of a harmonica. Curious, she turned her head towards the source of the noise, eventually, spotting someone on a bench. It was shortly joined by another player, who seemed to be matching the song pretty well.

The wolf-eared huntress drew closer, smiling at the tune. She wasn't an avid listener of music, especially not when it came to harmonicas, but she associated the little things with decent, if maybe a tad reclusive, people. The likelihood of these two being anything like that girl were fairly low.

"Whatta twat." Rygar was surprised, to say the least. While looking for an insider for his drug habit was something of a side quest he planned to carefully do, he had not exacted this fauna girl to actually have any drugs for him. But he didn't know a thing about this Miopic Dorphensicate thing, and even than he was (Mostly) loyal to his brand, Mamitas. Worse still was that his "This is a Sting!" senses were going nuts. But at the same time, his "Payday!" senses were going off as well. Rygar was conflicted to which he should follow. Obviously he doesn't want anyone figuring out about his drug problem... But than again... Who actually knows? As far as his papers go, he's strait-edge now. And who'd bother to report him if he does start doping again? And surely Pascale knows were he comes from since she was able to detect that he was a druggie so easily... Which in itself made this even more suspicious. But now he was thinking too much about it, and all he cared was to see where this went. So he followed her.

While his devil-may-care swagger may indicate that he had his guard down, he was on high alert. Anything that might tip off that was a sting, that the school was checking to see if he relapsed (Which he already has), or if this entire thing was just a scam or a trap to blackmail him. Killing wasn't a strange thing to him, and he only worried about how to hide the body if she turned out to be an officer. "Does she still have my brain paste? Might be needing that soon..."

IC:

While Alistair was already paying careful attention to the advice being given, when Arara pulled out a black credit card, his eyebrows cranked up a few notches. His eyes traced the card's path about her fingers carefully, distinctly aware that she was holding in her hand more money than his family had likely possessed in their entire lives.

On one hand, the offer was very, very enticing. On the other hand, someone offering to pay for things was something to be cautious of. While it wasn't a very trusting thought, it was realistic; Ulterior motives were very much possible. Best to know what he was agreeing to before he agreed.

"Now, I was raised not to look a gift horse in the mouth," He began, gaze transferring from the card back to her face. "But where I'm from, such an offer usually has a catch. Does the same hold true here?"

A pause, a slight smile growing on his face. As he began speaking again, he held out his right hand to shake. "Regardless of the answer to that question, however, I've forgotten my manners. I'm Alistair Thorne. Pleasure to meet you, Ms....?"

Daiki raised an eyebrow as someone joined in on his playing. He looked up and spotted another boy playing his own harmonica and harmonising with Daiki. Well, he wasn't about to stop the song just cause someone else did - he was rather impressed actually, for the song he was playing had been taught by Daiki's father. For someone to listen and harmonise by ear was impressive.

When the song ended Daiki looked up and gave a nod of acknowledgement. "Nice playing." He commended the other guy.

It seemed the poor were simple-minded after all, mused Arara, as she watched his eyes follow her black credit card. Being the heir had it's advantages, unlimited wealth being one of them. Sure, something insane like purchasing a country would still be out of her range, but still. The power of wealth was pretty extreme, pretty abusable. She normally wouldn't show off like this, but unlike the past, she had a concrete goal this time: tracking down her brother, who's location was unknown as of now. At least her money was clean, even if it wasn't her own.

The boy managed to restrain himself enough to ask about the possibilities of ulterior motives though, and for that, Arara forced her smile into a frown, as she smoothly snapped her credit card back into the wallet, the symbol of luxury hidden from sight once more. “Oh,” she asked, an expression of hurt appearing on her features, “Don't you trust me?”

She let those words hang for a moment, watching his reactions out of amusement, before smiling once more and accepting his handshake, grasping it with uncharacterist strength and shaking up and down three times, before releasing. “You may address me as Lady Arara Sakanade, Alistair Thorne. And my condition is simple. Just...be my friend. If you're interested in this proposal, find me after the entrance ceremony.”

And like that, Arara left. The airship definitely should be landing soon. Unless five minutes was another way of saying an hour.

As the excitement died out Addica was left standing in the middle of an empty space, everyone else having left as fast as the whole occurrence had happened. Addica moved towards the rail next to the window, but kept his focus on the mass of students milling about rather than the impressive sight of Beacon out the window. As he stood there with his back to the rail he searched the crowd reading as many people as possible as fast as possible. Sometimes the ability to read people's emotions got annoying (especially because it wasn't something he could shut off) but at other times it was comforting. He could tell that most of the students, like himself, were nervous about Beacon and those that weren't nervous were for the most part excited. Sadly he didn't recognize anyone, at least not well enough to approach them. Looking over the crowd Addica saw a few people that were alone, a boy in a long black cloak with dark blue accents in his armor and clothing (Tirren), a girl with long red hair (Sayuri) and a faunus girl sitting alone (Casterly). Deciding that he should at least try to make one friend before they landed he pulled his phone out and opened an chance simulator, much preferring to let chance make such decisions for him (read: I rolled a dice to decide who to throw Addica at). And so the red haired girl it was. Addica slid his phone back into his pocket and pulled his remaining earbud out of his ear and thrust the earphones in his pocket with the phone. Straightening himself up he brushed his jacket flat then crossed the area to the girl. "Hey... ummm... I'm Addica and I saw that you were alone and ummm," Having no idea what to say Addica began stumbling over his words, he felt weird just randomly approaching someone but how else was one to make friends. Catching himself he restarted, "Hey, I'm Addica." figuring that the simple introduction was better than something outstandingly creepy; he let it hang in the air before he flashed a smile and offered his hand out for a shake.

she smiled and nodded for him to look though it "that is my sister, she should be turning 7 next month...i drew that the last day i seen her and the house is the own our family lived" it made her alittle sad to think about it, the girl in the drawing was around 5 like she said, Casterly looked to where the voice was coming from "i guess we are almost there, id be lying if i said i wasnt nervous" she looked around the deck at everyone else. she was happy to have her mind focused on talking to someone new instead of her past.

with another smile and watched as he flipped though her book, all very detailed, pictures of a forrests, a lake, a village, what seemed like a dark room with a single window, she watched him look though then hand the book back to her as he told her he would be back "o...oh okay" she slid the book back into her bag and zipped it up to be ready for when the ship lands "its....not to late to leave...but i cant go back home...i need to do this." she stood up and slid her arms though her backpack and looked out the window then started walking around the deck, when ever she would pass a human she would give them a bow and continue on her way walking around.

Sighing after being shot down by Mollera she notices the conversation between Alistair and Arara and frowned. She walked up to Alister, "She just wants someone she can use you know. I know the type I lived around many of them," she looks him over then smiled, "Hey my name is Sayuri what's yours? Also if you would like some help with your weapons I could help."

She gestures at her own weapon before holding her hand out for a handshake.

Finally snapping out of her intense, romantic daydreaming, KK noticed the spear-wielding girl and the last bit of her conversation with Allistair. "I'll be your friend too!" She shouted excitedly after the girl, somewhat ruining her rather dignified exit. "My name's Kalimay Kay! Or KK... OR KAY! OR KALI" Several heads turned to give the loud, young girl a few odd glances but Lady Arara Sakanade was already gone, slipping through the crowd and deeper into the airship. "She seemed nice..." Bouncing lightly on her feet, her long ponytail got tangled with her flail's chain and with a muttered curse she began carefully unraveling them. After a moment, her large brown eyes snapped back to the tall boy. "Oh, and dating boys shouldn't be looking at other girls like that! What would your girlfriend think? Especially after she came to you when you used your superior whit and cunning to beat that jocky boy in a fight!" Holding the chain-hair tangle up to the side of her head, her voice became very high and seductive in a poor imitation of Lorelei's voice. "Oh darling! Seeing the heart you put into fighting made me realize my love for you but... ALAS!" With dramatic emphasis, she spun her back against Alistair and put an arm over her eyes. "Our love is a forbidden one! For I am betrothed to this... jocky... douche-bag! And our families would never approve of me marrying one of common birth!" Now her voice fell to a very deep tone, imitating Alistair. "My love for you will never falter! I will go to the greatest academy in this land and train myself so that I may defeat this evil suitor and force him to relinquish his betrothal so that only I may hold your fair hand!"

With an approving sigh, she glanced over at the new girl to approach, Sayuri. "Oh!" Jumping up, letting the tangle of hair and weapon hang over her shoulder, she grasped the girls extended hand eagerly, not noticing it was meant for Alistair. "My name is Kalimay Kay! Or KK... or Kali... And this is my friend Alistair Thorne!" At the end she leaned in and not-so-quietly whispered to Sayuri. "He's going through a bit of a love-crisis right now. It's all very stressful."

IC:

For a moment, Alistair watched Arara depart, eyebrows angling upwards several more degrees. Truth be told, that had been one of the more... Odd conversations he'd had in his life, though all things considered, he supposed that wasn't saying much. He would have continued with this contemplation, if it weren't for two very sudden, very distracting things.

First... KK. Just... Kalimay. Talking at a mile a minute, Alistair's mind raced to try and keep up with what she was saying, which was easier said than done when another girl appeared (Which, coincidentally, was the second event), and began talking as well. As KK took a moment to start talking to Sayuri, his mind took the extra few moments needed to catch up to the present, and comprehend what KK was saying.

"Okay, whoa, whoa, let's back up a second here. Time out." He commented, making a "t" with his hands. "There's no love crisis here, there's no love here. I'm not dating anyone, and when I say 'anyone' I mean anyone, not just people who are here, I was not looking at girls in any way that an attached person shouldn't, even if I was attached."

Pausing a moment, he took a deep breath. "Okay, I think that covers everything, feel free to resume. Hello, Sayuri, pleasure to meet you. Pleasure to meet you as well, Kalimay."