[i]After around ten to fifteen minutes, a loud racket outside of the Starbucks drew costumer's attentions. Just outside the gate there were four people; three men, and one woman. Two of the men and the woman were closer to each other's sides; the other man was in front of them. The one man was between the other three and the Dojo gates. The man that stood between the other three was Valentine; a newcomer to the Dojo. His clothing was still the same as it was when he first arrived a couple days ago; tattered and torn. Tears and gaps in the fabric of his once-black t-shirt revealed dozens of scars and bruises. The scars looked old, however the bruises were fresh; they looked to have come from melee combat with other people. Valentine's light brown skin and dark hair were drenched in sweat and small amounts of blood. His lips were parched and bleeding, parted and gasping. His stance was tired; he looked worn out, but he was still standing; barely. The other three were grinning, the woman cracking her knuckles threateningly.[/i] "You're still standing?" [i]One of the men laughed, stepped forward, and slammed a thick fast into Valentine's temple. He staggered backwards, but didn't fall, and didn't make a single sound of pain; although from his expression, he was clearly in agony, both mentally and physically. The man made another move to punch Valentine, but he sidestepped nimbly, and charged; Valentine's shoulder rammed into the man's chest. While it wasn't all that powerful it was enough to stagger the man. A swift motion could barely be seen; Valentine's left hand moved to the man's pocket and back to his side so quickly, one might believe it was their imagination. The man who was shoulder charged quickly regained balance, and his the corner of his mouth twitched. He struck Valentine's gut hard enough to send him flying into the Dojo, knocking him over. Valentine stayed down, his eyes closed. Anybody could see that he was feigning unconsciousness; but the group of three clearly weren't the brightest. They laughed, and left the Dojo. When they did, Valentine's eyes opened, and he was grinning. He lifted his left hand, holding a wallet. He laughed a short chuckle, and got up. Valentine looked around, then went towards the Starbucks, ignoring his blood, sweat and bruises. He entered, sighing as the air conditioned atmosphere hit him. He ordered a cold frappuccino and a ham and bacon sandwich, paying with cash from the wallet. getting an odd stare from the cashier, and sat down, sighing, a content look on his face.[/i]

[i]"You know, it ain't every day you see someone get back from a situation like that. So mister-fister, who're you?" Inquired one particularly curious cowboy, who proceeded to stand up and approach the table Valentine sat a with a grin on his face. The cowboy most certainly looked intimidating naturally, though by no means was he making a threat towards Valentine unprovoked. His long, brown duster was tattered and torn on the very bottom, riddled with a set of six bullet holes along his torso from engagements in past years of his life. Beneath that was a simple pair of jeans tucked into his brown boots and a slate grey tee shirt that tightly hugged his muscular frame. He bore a badge on his left breast, indicating that perhaps he was of some importance to some. The Marshal's face was obscured by a light shadow but his facial features were still distinguishable. His face looked somewhat young as if he was in maybe his early thirties, although the brown scruffy beard on his tanned skin added another year or two to him. He had a cowboy hat on his head to cast the shadow, and a small set of cuts on his lips from prior engagements, which had given a slightly rugged appearance to the man. In terms of guns he was loaded. A black and gold Winchester rifle sat on his back beside a tri-barreled shotgun, a blackish lasso was on his hip with his two revolvers, he had a pair of jagged swords, and a strangely ornate knife on his belt. Otherwise, all other weaponry was hidden, primarily through augments.. Some were visible, like his charred black prosthetic left arm, which he has dubbed the "Cyber Pariah's Arm" after booth the previous owner and the current. And finally, he sat down across from Valentine. [/i]

[i]Valentine took one look at the cowboy, and knew that it would be a bad idea to pick a fight with him. He grinned back, yet the grin looked painful; it tore up his dry, parched lips, forcing more blood to come out. From a closer look, Valentine was seriously skinny; The tears in his shirt revealed a famished, bony frame, and the skin of his face hugged his skull tightly; so much so that bones that normally aren't visible could be seen beneath his lack of flesh. His cheekbones were naturally sharp, accentuated by his boniness, and his appearance was that he was of Asian descent; part Chinese, part Indian, and some Caucasian mixed in.[/i] "Name's Valentine," [i]He replied to the cowboy, counting the bills in the wallet.[/i] "And I didn't just get back from that situation;" [i]A glint shown in his dark brown eyes as he set the wallet down on the table.[/i] "That guy's gonna be real mad when he can't find his wallet." [i]Valentine laughed, borderline hysterically, and it became clear; he wasn't exactly... normal. Mentally.[/i]

[i]"Kid you're definitely a few bullets short of a magazine," JT said as he took a sip of his drink, setting it on the table shortly after. He looked to Valentine and leaned back in his chair, one hand still on the table while the other was over the back of his chair. "So, what brings you 'round here?" [/i]

"Depends," [i]Valentine replied as he grabbed his food. He wolfed down his sandwich in approximately four seconds, downed the drink in three. After finishing, he sighed, and leaned back in his own chair placing his hands behind his head.[/i] "I've not got half a clue how I ended up in this area," [i]Valentine referred to the land of Tatakai.[/i] "And I'm here at this place cause I'm starving, tired, and sick of sleeping on sticks and stones." [i]He had been doing exactly that for the past four years; foraging for the bare minimum amount of food he needed for sustainability, and literally sleeping on a bed and pillow made of rocks, with sticks as a blanket. However, judging from the previous encounter with the group of three, he was gonna end up seriously dead at the Dojo if he didn't figure out how to combat–and fast.[/i]

[i]"Kiddo you're going to end up deader than Bob Dylan's fanbase in 2300 if you don't learn to fight."[/i]

"Sure, sure, yeah, yeah," [i]Valentine replied nonchalantly.[/i] "Who the hell is Bob Dylan?"

[i]"You don't know Bob -blam!-ing Dylan?! Dude where the hell are you from?!"[/i] [spoiler]I read that this dude was from Earth so he [i]might[/i] know BD. BD inspired numerous artists and Jimi Hendrix covered his sing "All Along The Watchtower." Great artist. [/spoiler]

"Shanghai," [i]Valentine said flatly, his grin fading. For twelve years, Valentine had basically lived underneath a rock; forced isolation, and did not even see the city he was born and lived in until age twelve.[/i] "What of it?"

[i]"Shanghai, that shithole in China? Never was a fan of it, too... Cramped. Made for a hell of a Battlefield map though." [/i]

"I don't know what you're talking about," [i]Valentine said, his nonchalant attitude returning.[/i] "The heck's a Battlefield map? Military tactics?"

[i]"Battlefield's a video game franchise."[/i]

"Video game? What's video game? Do they sell for much?" [i]Valentine asked, curiosity spiking.[/i]

[i]"Video games are pretty much virtual worlds, like interactive movies," JT said. He brought up his Tac-Pad, a device built-into hid right firearm, and powered on the screen which resembled that of a futuristic iPhone. He sifted through his apps and clicked on one labelled 'Plague Inc.' because that's the only one him and his writer could stand, and the main menu popped up. "You play them when you're bored."[/i]

"Huh," [i]Valentine thought about that for a moment, growing more interested by the second. He scooted his chair around the table to get a better look at the Tac-Pad's screen. A virtual world, huh? Valentine felt as though the chance to be somebody else was riveting; and it was something that he longed for. So, he examined Plague Inc's main menu closely, making sure his short term memory loss didn't get the better of him.[/i]

[i]"Now, this one here is a game about playing God for a bit. You create a plague and as it spreads, you get points called 'DNA Points' to upgrade and mutate your plague. Pretty simple, right? You can upgrade severity to make it more harmful, lethality to make it kill faster, and infectivity to make it spread quickly and to other countries."[/i]

[i]Valentine raised an eyebrow, and grinned; he liked the sound of that; a little too much. A game about spreading a deadly disease to wipe out the world? Yup, give that to the mentally unstable one and tell him to go wild! Nevertheless, Valentine continued to watch in silence. It intrigued him; a world where instead of being the one beaten up, he could do the beating.[/i]

[i]JT tapped his way into the main game, and tarted playing. I'd narrate but there's too many variables to account for, so I'll leave you with a textart Clint Eastwood. _.--._ ( •_• )[/i]

[i]When JT finished with his textart Clint Eastwood—er, with his game, Valentine was laughing hysterically. He had a screw loose somewhere. He was contemplating robbing some hardware store and stealing a device to try this himself, but of course didn't mention that.[/i] "Oh, that was [i]wonderful[/i]," [i]Valentine said after the outbreak of laughs. Future shut-in couch potato spotted.[/i]

[spoiler]BTW, JT's Tac-Pad ain't in stores. This was a thing everyone got in CP about two years ago, lol. [/spoiler] [i]"Dude you seriously got somethin' up. You high?"[/i]

[spoiler]Still a device, i was referring to like a computer or somethin[/spoiler][i]Valentine smiled coldly at JT's question.[/i] "Oh no, no, my opium supplies ran out last year," [i]He said with a touch of remorse.[/i] "I'm completely [i]normal[/i]." [i]He was lying.[/i]

[spoiler]Oh lmao[/spoiler] [i]"Dude were you takin' opium balls or morphine? Somethin' else maybe?"[/i]

[i]Valentine's smile remained, but something else changed.[/i] "I said no, I'm not taking anything," [i]He stated clearly; his voice was unstable and soft.[/i] "Nothing... nothing at all."

[i]"Damn, chill man, I was just curious about what you dropped." [/i]