<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class='ooc'><tr><td>Timestamp: Dyo 15, 81380</td></tr></table> <span style='color:red'>Pumeal and Tuju Uej walked into the dormitory entrance, carrying a bag full of menlo gear. He and his wife had sacrificed any R&R time for 3 years so that they could finally take a full year off, together! </span> <span style='color:purple'>Tuju had never seen a menlo match so she had decided to come along, just to watch.</span> <span style='color:red'>"Number 0024," Pumeal read aloud, before opening the door and entering. It was empty, "I guess Hishema's off somewhere, and Tucoju's still working. Oh well. They won't mind coming home to their unconscious brother and his wife with a stranger."</span> <span style='color:purple'>Tuju laughed and nodded, "I'll explain the situation to them."</span> <span style='color:red'>Pumeal set of the menlo generator on a small table with a couch and lazyboy on either side of it. He sat on the lazyboy and put on his helmet, priming everything for the match he just had to wait for his opponent to arrive</span>.
Sly paced down the hallway, his oversized black hoodie totally hiding his face, his sharply slanting eyes glowing from underneath, in a very sinister fashion- but he wore a smile. He had a game. and he was ready to go. He even brought a generator, which was in the black bookbag slung over his shoulder. His slightly baggy grey jeans swished as he walked down the long dormitory corridor that was his route. He drew the paper slip from his pocket again, and double checked the number. He was nearly there. He readjusted the bag on his shoulder, then looked up again. The numbers 0024 were looking back at him. He took a deep breath, knocked three times, and opened the door a crack. <span style='color:yellow'>"Hey...?"</span> he said, pushing the door open a bit more, and poking his head in. <span style='color:yellow'>"Is this the right place?"</span>
<span style='color:purple'>Tuju, who had be sitting on Pumeal's lap, but leaped upwhen the door made a sound. Turned to the door, she put arms to her mouth, "Ahh! Someone coming to attack us!" She grabbed her pistol aiming it at the visiter, narrowing her eyes, "Who are you?" She waited a few second before bursting into laughed, "Yes, yes Sly. This is the right place." She walked up to shake his hand, "I'm Tuju, Pumeal's wife, and second-in-command. I'm just here to watch."</span> <span style='color:red'>Pumeal sighed, "Sly, I got the generator set up, you can sit on the couch if you want. Just plug your stuff in and we can start."</span> <span style='color:purple'>Tuju walked over to Pumeal, bend down, and locked her lips on his, while holding him tightly. She released for need of breath, "Good luck, but remember, this isn't a military situation. Try to have fun." She walked to the kitchen and grabbed two cups of water, placing them on the table beside the generator, "In case you two are thirsty before you start, or after."</span> <span style='color:red'>Pumeal returned the kiss then said, "Thanks, I'll try to remember that," turning to Sly, he laughed slightly, "Sorry, we don't get much R&R together, because of the army. It's hard to let the commander, and subcommander of one of the elite squads leave at the same time." He licked his lips subconsciously. "Shall we start?"</span>
<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class='ooc'><tr><td>Sorry! I didn't forget! I've just been busy, and not very creative... sorry if it's crappy</td></tr></table> Sly narrowed his eyes at the gun being pointed at him. <span style='color:yellow'>"How do you expect to make friends like that? ...are you crazy? ...it's not even legal to have that on Acadamy grounds!"</span> he said, arching his left eyebrow, momentarily turning his left eye into a diamond shape. He said nothing more, however, and took his place opposite his opponent. He quickly picked out a card from the carrying case, and set the bag aside. He momentarily sized up his opponent, then reached up under his hood to flip down the single-eye menlo headgear he had on already, causing the glow from one eye to blur slightly, losing its normally definate shape. <span style='color:yellow'>"Good luck."</span> he said, offering his hand. <span style='color:yellow'>"...and may the best man win"</span> he finished, slipping his card into the slot and bracing himself for the stomach-dropping sensation of being removed from your own body (more or less). He dropped onto grass in a crouch, one palm on the ground. The Katar's diagnostic readouts claimed everything was good, but he gave himself a once-over, just in case, flexing his hands, his arms and legs, and then bending his back in all directions. Good to go. He finally looked around him through his visor. The trees were all over- all large enough to provide cover and high enough to climb around. Which was good and bad. He was able to change the color of his suit on the fly- which he did, immediately dapting it to brown- lighter brown for where it was previously grey, and darker brown for where it was previously black. Good. But he had been wasting time... He had to move quick, his opponent already had a headstart on him. He sprinted, silent as a mouse, into the thick mist that covered all but the very most fringes of the level, darting from tree to tree. He couldn't find anyone in this mist. his nightvision was useless- the moonlight on the mist just made his vision all bright green. Heat vision was also moot. Everything, even himself at close range, was heat-masked by the cool mist. Any sort of detection save one's own eyes would do little, it seemed. Leaping against one tree and springing up into another, he crouched down and waited, hidden from behind and the left by two thick trunks. He was patient, and would wait. One katar slid silently out of his wrist, though it was not yet live with it's pulsing yellow light.
<span style='color:red'>Pumeal hated the feeling of entering the arenas but once inside he felt so free. He quickly ran SharpShot's diagnostic program, a tip he'd learned from a fellow menlo player, and when everything checked out he set to work. He knew it'd take a few seconds for Sly to enter to he had to act fast. Well, as fast as he could. His big suit didn't really allow for much speed. He planted a decoy and turned it on, it made the sound of a large menlo suit pacing back and forth. He turned and walked through the trees and crouched in a patch of dense trees 25 metres away. This was HIS arena so he had designed his suit to blend perfectly with the trees. As long as he didn't move, he'd look just like a stump. Now all he had to do was wait, and as a highly trained sharpshooter who specialized in medium to long range weapons, as well as a highly train tracker, he knew how to wait without moving.</span>
<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class='ooc'><tr><td>will edit as soon as I can... later today probobly, maybe tomorrow. Sorry. ^^; </td></tr></table>
