[b]Man on the Moon:[/b] [i]Bar//Dojo Village[/i] Michael Drake put the bottle down with a thud, the glass making a resounding [i]crack[/i] that echoed throughout the dimly lit room. With a nonchalant gesture with his prosthetic hand, he waved at the bartender for another round, and then returned to his tired reverie. Once upon a time, he drank in celebration. Then, he drank to drown his ever-cumulative sorrows from consuming him. Now, he simply drank for the hell of it. Outside, the calm whirring of his [url=http://m.imgur.com/qvQuDtS]ship's[/url] engines could scarcely be heard over the droning conversations in the room. People from all over the universe came here, to Dojoville, to compete against one another in a never-ending contest to achieve superiority. Hell, he'd probably know some people from the NTR here--this was an often frequented area, after all. He'd have to be careful--while he wasn't wanted here, nobody would bar an eyelash if someone were to snuff him in the middle of the night. As he drank, he considered why the hell he came here to begin with. He wasn't the best of fighters, and he wasn't likely to win honor or greatness here, so why did he find himself in this sinkhole, mere miles away from the hub of champions? With a wry smile, he realized that he had answered his own question. He'd come here to do something with his life. And to make some new "acquaintances"--that too. [spoiler]Open to all. [/spoiler]