The Dueling Arena ~The RP~

[cheeta-katt]

It was daytime now—but Ghost could honestly care less.
Curled up, the katt was nothing more than a large, furry black lump, his only sign of life the shuddering rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. His eyes, bright the night before with nervous energy, were now tightly shut with exhaustion and soreness from his hike. The legs of his pressed khaki pants, ironed only a few hours before this all happened, were spattered with mud.
None of the inns looked inviting in the part of town Ghost found himself wandering early that morning. Deterred, he decided he would have to fend for himself—something that came naturally to the feline—however, lying there on the steaming pavement, feeling the eyes of spectators burning holes in his back, Ghost could not help but feel lost and alone.
His optimism was quickly dwindling away in this city with no limits. Shifting so that he curled up tighter, Ghost’s only wish now was to get some sleep. Perhaps that night, when the streets were not as crowded, he could make another attempt at figuring out where he was.
He was beginning to drift off now. The low purr that rumbled in Ghost’s throat to sooth himself climaxed; his tail, once drawn close to his legs, relaxed and fell lazily into the sidewalk—directly into the path of a man who smelled of steel, blood, and hand-made soap.
The katt’s eyes shot open. With a frantic yowl Ghost leaped into the air, claws extending to their full as he rounded on the man with a ferocity that could only come upon somebody who’s tail had just been trodden on. A split second later he lashed out with a swipe of his dangerous forepaws, aiming at the man’s face and neck.  

[delbosque]

((Um... is the katt Ghost supposed to be attacking the ronin Battousai from the post before?))  

[cheeta-katt]

((...Yes. oO Going on the assumption that everyone else is inside the arena, then who else would he be attacking?))  

[Takamura Kobayashi]

((I thought so. That was one of the fastest reply's ever.))
The Ronin heard the yowl of the cat and turned, instinctively moving his right hand to grip his katana and his upper body to lean back, avoiding the flying animal. Once the cat had landed, and the Ronin got a better look at it he decided to forgo his sword and instead reached into his kimono and produced a small bag of catnip. He tossed it on the ground next to the cat, making sure that the cat saw it. The ronin then relaxed slightly, hoping that the cat would at least sniff the bag and give the Ronin some time to prepare himself for another onslaught.  

[cheeta-katt]

Through his fury, Ghost was able to get a good look at this man. He was dressed in a simple kimono, but slung along his side was a rather large and pointy-looking sword. If he didn’t know better, Ghost would’ve thought that this man was a samurai. Common sense tossed away this idea almost immediately. A samurai? Seriously now?
…But then again, Ghost realized that he had just spent a night fleeing from a band of what he could’ve sworn were elves. Hmm. This raised new questions.
Meanwhile, the man was reaching for something in his clothes. Ghost instinctively lowered himself closer to the ground, preparing himself to dodge any sharp object that was bound to be thrown at him; however, what came instead was a bag of something that smelled familiar and intoxicating. The threat neutralized, Ghost reached out and grabbed the package from the air, examining it with a cautious sniff. Nevertheless, he knew what it was long before he came into contact with it: catnip.
What was this all about?
Raising an eyebrow, Ghost shot a quizzical look towards the strangely-dressed man. ”…If you think I’m going to roll in this, you’re sorely mistaken,” he quipped, a sour edge to his voice as he gently caressed his throbbing tail.
Ghost stole another longing glance at the catnip. It certainly would be nice if he could escape all his troubles, but, in the spirit of many of the humans, “drugs” were not the best outlet for his confusion. Instead, with a small titter of repugnance, he cast the bag aside near a dumpster; the herb spilled onto the sidewalk where his unsheathed claws unintentionally sliced the container.
”Now watch where you’re walking next time,” Ghost spat, his voice laced with bitterness for his swollen tail as sat back on the pavement, ”Some of us are trying to sleep.”  

[Takamura Kobayashi]

Takamura bowed to the cat as he heard it speak. "I am sorry for injuring you, if you would like I can mend your tail." he replied, seeing as how the animal didn't like the catnip. Takamura wasn't one to harm his enemies if he could get out of it, especially not feline ones. He would much rather resolve the fight peacefully than draw his katana, but here he found himself. He looked up again and sighed at the sheer size of the arena. He knew what awaited him was a place of death, a place where two men entered, one man left.

He turned back to the guard, his face now revealed, and smiled wryly. "So are you going to let me in?" he asked impatiently. The guard, still wide eyed and amazed at the Ronin's speed and flexibility, closed his mouth and nodded as he moved aside to allow the ronin to pass. Takamura reached into his obi and produced a single gold coin and, as he passed, placed it in the guards pocket, for a job well done.  

[delbosque]

Inside the Arena, there were signs indicating the way to a simple table that had been set up with a folding chair behind it.
There was a banner declaring that it was the place to sign up for an upcoming tournament, to have three levels of battles against hostile monsters.

On the table was a simple sign-up sheet, and sitting in the folding chair was a redheaded boy perhaps of the pre-teen years, or maybe even early teens.  

[Takamura Kobayashi]

Looking around the Ronin was even more amazed at the interior of the arena. He saw the table and chair and thought it rather plain compared to the grandeur of the stadium. He walked to the table, making sure to keep his face hidden by his hat, and looked at the paper. "This where I sign up to fight?" he asked the man sitting behind it gruffly.  

[cheeta-katt]

Ghost stared at his feet as the man replied; from somebody who looked gruff and, to be honest, rather angsty, he was unusually kind to him despite his signs of aggression. Despite this, Ghost was still sour. He did not look up until he heard the doors to the arena close.
Then Ghost realized how stupid he’d just been.
Shaking his head, the katt abruptly stood, looking determined. This man by no means was familiar, though he obviously wasn’t hostile, either; Ghost could almost sense the aura of esteem—no, power—that radiated from him. He was definitely the kind of person who had answers. And by attempting to splice his throat out, Ghost feared he had just made enemies with the very person who held the solution to his many problems that had gathered in this past day.
He trailed quickly into the arena, his stride long and brisk with purpose. The guard opened his mouth to question him, but Ghost brushed past with little less than a mild growl in his chest. He would set things right the only way he knew how.
Seeing the man standing at the main table, Ghost sidled up beside him, putting on a pleasant but stern smile. He slung his hands in his pockets.
”Sign me up,” ordered Ghost blandly, ”We can tag-team, can’t we? If we can, I’m pairing up with this guy.”

He wasn’t tired anymore.  

[Takamura Kobayashi]

Takamura looked at the creature and smiled wryly. "Nice to see your alright." he said calmly, letting his hat ride up and show his face and ice blue eyes. "I'm not so sure about tag teaming, but I wouldn't mind having you as a friend. He smiled as he turned back to the arena. "Can't wait for my first fight." he said to no one in particular.  

[delbosque]

The boy sitting at the table grinned.
"This tournament won't use teams, but if you both made it to the exhibition battle afterwards, you could fight together. Or if you want to set up a match before the tournament starts, you could choose to play teams."
"Your names?" he asked them both, holding a pen ready to sign them up on the paper. "And do you have any titles or other such that you would like us to announce when you enter the arena?"

((btw, does Ghost have the normal size and form of a housecat? And can he only use his paws as much as a normal cat, or does he have more dexterity than that?))  

[Takamura Kobayashi]

Takamura took the pen and put it to the paper as he spoke to the man behind the table. "Takamura Kobayashi, The Hitokiri Battousai." he said as he finished signing, laying hte pen on the table and straightening.  

[cheeta-katt]

((Uh…well, it says so in his bio…xD He’s actually the first one on the 37th page—which, if I’m not mistaken, is the most recent page of bios. There’s even a picture? oO
But to answer your question outright, Ghost stands at around 5’-ish and is bipedal, leaving his front paws open to grab things with his modified thumbs. He also wears khaki pants and a tie? I figured by frequently mentioning the fact that he wears pants, then the message would be direct enough. xD ))

Ghost’s shoulders slumped a little. No teams? That was rather disappointing—it kind of took away the whole point of entering this tournament in the first place.
But then again…
Ghost shifted his eyes toward the poster on the wall. On it was a dramatic picture of what looked to be a gladiator battling a giant reptile-like creature. Across the top was the announcement, and at the bottom the prize of…money.
He blinked, cocking his head. Money? The currency here was unfamiliar, but for this sort of thing the amount must’ve been quite a lot. Ghost pondered this, as he now had two options:
The first was to skip the tournament. This would allow him to continue to search the city, furthering his chances of finding Dustin, or at least somebody who knew where he was. However, Ghost knew that he would soon have to stop and rest, because he was already getting a little hungry, and though he was perfectly capable of hunting that would waste valuable time and energy.
The second was to participate. If he won, then Ghost would get a large sum of money, which he could use to help him navigate the city, get a decent meal, find a good place to rest, and, if need be, use it to get information. If he lost, however, then he would be dead.
Hmm.
A short pause of thinking followed as Ghost weighed the choices. At last he decided, wearing the face of grim finality as well as reckless heroism. He would battle.
”Ghost Perkins,” the katt breathed, tail swishing with anticipation as he also signed, ”And please, I’m flattered. No title for now.”
He turned towards the other competitor, holding out an oversized paw from his pocket. ”You say your name’s Takamura? Well it’s nice to meet you.”  

[Takamura Kobayashi]

Out of Habit Takamura bowed to the creature and spoke. "It is nice to meet you Ghost." he said before straightening. He cocked his head to one side quizzically as he looked at the over sized paw that the Katt extended. Not being used to such creatures he ignored it and turned as he walked toards the waiting area, before sitting on a nearby bench and waiting for his name to be announced.

Closing his eyes Takamura let out a deep sigh as he meditated. He didn't know exactly how he had arrived in this strange world, or how he had come to this place, other than he was wandering the streets of the city and saw the arena deep at it's heart.

He opened his eyes and scanned the arena, the crowed cheering, the smell of food wafting through the air. Everything around him seemed to be alive, yet he felt death. The cold, emptiness of death as he watched the battles unfold before him. He had not been the Battousai in a long time, and he feared that he would have to become it again if he was to make it out alive. A single thought ran through his head as he sat there. Two men enter, one man leaves.  

[cheeta-katt]

Ghost frowned slightly, shoulder slumping as his gesture was ignored. He felt rather awkward and stupid; seeing as Takamura generally bowed to show his respect, Ghost realized that the idea of a “handshake” must’ve been a foreign concept. Looking at the floor, he quickly stuffed his paw back in his pocket, to which Takamura silently stalked off and began meditating.
Which, thusly, brought up a good question:
”Say…” Ghost squinted as he got a better look at the boy’s nametag, his eyes not as sharp in the light, ”…’BillBob’…When exactly does this tournament thing start? I kinda, uh, have a busy schedule.”
Ghost left out most of the details. He felt no need to explain his predicament to this random kid taking names, as he highly doubted he could help at all.