[b][i]The gates open slowly as a tired-looking man, mid-twenties, walks out of the dojo. His hair is a dark gray, his skin light olive. His left eye is bright green, but the other eye is the strange part of his head. The skin around the right was completely burnt off, a 3-inch diameter showing the soulsteel underneath. The eye itself was a mechanical, completely red sphere, which acted as a camera, attached to the man's brain. He wore a black, sleeveless shirt, and black jeans, a brown belt with many pockets to store small items strapped to his waist. His arms were completely mechanical, up to his shoulders, and while his legs were hidden by his jeans, it was clear that they were mechanical, as well. In his left hand, he holds an E12 clarinet with size 6 reeds. The tired man looks up to the new (eh) faces arriving at the dojo, sighing. He had other things to worry about, but that did not mean he could blow off his duties. So he nodded, his dark gray hair blowing in the calm, east to west breeze.[/i][/b] "I take it you wish to enter?" [b][i]He asks. His voice was intelligent, like that of a scientist's. It was clear that he wasn't much of a fighter, but would fight for the right reasons. And he would fight well, as in, polished, smooth, and gracefully, unlike many he knew. He was not a bloodthirsty beast, but a refined researcher with a gun or two.[/i][/b]