Chevaleresse

"Could you ever, just, you know. . ." The man makes a plaintive gesture as he trails off. "Speak in a way I can actually understand? Honestly, it's as if your using a completely different language. Which would make sense if you've got a brain injury, I suppose."

Masaru frowns and looks at Andre. "Are you ill, Andre? I wouldn't recommend a spar if you're dropping sentences to clutch your head." He isn't the only one that gets a frown, either; Artitha gets her own share of visual questioning. And verbal: "You can't be totally useless in a fight if you're as strong as you look." He wasn't sure if she knew he could feel the sensation of magic radiating from her, or if she felt anything in return; a sufficiently trained mage could pick out a soul with a significant portion of draconic ancestry much as they could detect other mages.

Hoshiko squawked again as Luka's hand strayed places it had no right to be. She was ready to forgive him (perhaps after a lecture) as a merciful hero was ought to do, until his comment. "Disappointing me- You pig, you groped me and then you COMPLAINED ABOUT IT!??!" She hadn't stood up at this point, so poor Keagan likely got an undeserved earful. Made worse when she popped to her feet while standing in place, planting them firmly on the Knight's chest. "Idiot! Lech! Pervert! IDIOT!" The inflamed archer punctuated each word with a fist swung at Luka, and after the last, they picked up speed, becoming less individual punches and more of a blurred flurry; at this transition, she stopped saying actual words and transitioned to a cry of "OraoraoraoraORAORAORAORAORAORAAAAAA!"

"I don't recommend that." He hefts his sword to emphasize his point. He leans over and inspects the gauntlet for a bit. "Interesting. I suppose I've heard of people making wyvern-scale armor, so this would be a natural extension."

Hoshiko, as typical, made a dramatic entrance. The atypical part was that it wasn't accompanied by any of her usual shouting, mostly just panting that led up to a choked-off Yukihanan expletive and a high-pitched yet muffled squawk. She'd run back to the group at full tilt, and in her haste failed an athletics check attempted and failed to stop on the stones of the road, leading to a forward tumble. She slammed straight into Luka, who would, in all likelihood, slam directly into Keagan; what happened after that point was anyone's guess.

"Japan? My homeland is Choukosui, or Kibwe, depending on who you ask. Though I suppose if there's multiple worlds, it stands to reason that there'd be places that are similar between them. Anyway, Masaru would be my given name, and the one you'd refer to me with." She could probably notice that Masaru seemed to be looking at her rather more intently than one might expect; whether it was a reason other than what she was wearing was up to her to figure out. After a moment, he replied to Andre's comments about fashion. "Monster parts? I suppose some monsters have sturdy carapaces and such, but working them into usable gear would be difficult without magic. . . and then you'd likely get better results out of steel anyway . . ."

Hiroki holds

A young girl with light hair and strength beyond what her size indicated. . . It brought to mind someone from home, someone less than pleasant, but she clearly wasn't the other. The eyes were wrong, as was the hair. . . Still, he was cautious. Could she be another phantasmal being, or perhaps of draconic origin? It stood to see, but he sensed a strong magical aura from her. "If you got her the same way I did, you may be in an entirely different world. Past that, I don't know myself." He took a step forward, offering his hand for a shake. "Name's Yamaguchi Masaru."

"You weren't being ignored, I was talking to your spider. And besides, you keep referencing things from your home that I've never heard of. It would be like me grilling you on Nishikism." He rolls his eyes before setting himself into a more serious expression. "Don't trust that spider, by the way. If she means what she says, she doesn't value much further than how good of a meal you'll be eventually."

"You say humans don't understand the circle of life, and you might be right, but tell me this: for all your concern about leaving things behind for the ones to succeed you, how many great works of art are your kind known for? Do you have a great Spider Fortress? What contributions have your people made to learning?" He glares back up at Aurora, his eyes seeming to almost burn. "I've spent my adult life exploring ancient ruins, ruins that became such because the kinds of things you refer to as more 'in balance' overwhelmed the ones who built them, destroying generations of labor, turning their efforts into nothing but dust and bones and crumbling stone for no reasons other than what amounts to simple greed. They dominate the earth, as you say, because it will grind them up and crush them and their children without a second thought because of your vaunted 'balance.'" He shook his head. "Besides, a human civilization destroying the entire world? Unless every person in the world simultaneously lost their minds and decided that all life must be purged, and they all moved with a united purpse, that would be flatly impossible. There simply are not, and will never be enough humans, and the dragons would crush them before they had the chance besides."

"Other-dark-overpowering-self-other. Strong-magic-powerful-other's power. Scary-insane-strong. Looser." The effect seems to wear off; if it said anything further, it was an unintelligible gibbering.

"Want to make more Heartless. Want to fight-win-dominate." Something seemed. . . odd about this statement, compared to the previous and next. "Cloak-Men and Fish-Man put self in machine-fight-Heartless-maker to make work. Machine-self-energy."

"Startled-nervous-afraid-wondering-curious? Do not like being restrained. Questions-master-self-wonders?" The creature's voice is discordant, veering between tones a bit too quickly, with words echoing and running together. At the same time however, it almost has a childish quality to it, being high pitched and almost innocent sounding.

"You're not wrong. People can be pretty damn quick to jump to violence. But that's people, not just humans or elves. They're not the only ones to do it. Have you ever seen what happens to a place after an orc warband rolls through? Ever seen how much of a hostage gnolls will leave behind? I won't say I've had an incredibly traumatic life, but when you get contracted to rescue a kid from snatchers, and you find them missing all but one limb because their captors got hungry? You don't forget that." He swung his blade around to his front and thumped the end of it into the ground hard enough that Andre and Mar probably felt the impact. "So don't sit there and lecture me about how terrible humans are, because you're guilty of the same thing. And tell me this; how many of them have you dragged screaming to their deaths? Hm? Or do you not want to answer that, spider?" He placed his other hand on the inner part of the blade, where a crossguard would be if the thing wasn't almost completely rectangular in shape, and moved the one already holding it to mirror it. Masaru took a deep breath, and then sighed, closing his eyes for a moment.

"You've never heard of shapeshifting dragons before? You know, the whole 'that elf maid might be a crotchety old red,' that kind of thing?" He shrugged. "No, a blue dragon - I don't know who, or why - decided that my grandmother was worthy. Or something. Truth be told, I wonder what his end goal was, but my father never actually met him." He trails off ever so slightly, distracted by his own thoughts for a moment, before shaking his head. "Sorry. But no, half-dragons aren't unheard of, so why would quarter dragons be?"

Hoshiko's mouth fell open for a moment. He just. . . ran off. She looked back and forth between the woman and where Luka had gone. And then did it again. And then did it one more time, before turning bright red and whirling on her heel to face the woman. "I'm s-sorry, I don't have any money on me!" She then spun about once again, nearly falling over (the rapid bowing had made her a bit lightheaded) as she sprinted off in the direction the dancer had left.

Masaru jumped a bit at the voice; the movement was very nearly enough to clip Mar with his blade. He squinted into the shadows on the ceiling; sure enough, he picked out the spider-woman without too much difficulty. "You must be Aurora, then; I'm assuming that you're not going to eat me as these two suggested, or you probably wouldn't have spoken to me." He took a moment to appreciate her; the spider bits he could do without, and the silver eyes are a bit odd, but she wasn't exactly horrific above the waist, if a bit skinny. "Anyway, dragon? That would be me, unless the big guy here's the source. A quarter dragon, specifically."

Masaru blinks. "So wait, you don't even know how this thing works? That's. . . probably going to be problematic. Haven't you got any artificers or engineers with a thing this huge?" He starts tobmove in the general direction of the room in question.

Despite the burger, Masaru's brow furrows again - this time in a slight scowl. "You keep saying these things like I should already know what they are. Do I look like a wizard to you?" The man didn't stop to wonder if Andre knew the distinction between sorcerers and wizards.

Masaru looks at the sandwich questioningly for a moment, wondering where the hell it came from, before taking it with his free hand and chowing down. "So what'sh the white room for?" he asks, mouth still full.

"I suppose I could try one. Gonna spend quite a bit of time exploring this place. Though I don't suppose you've got anything else to eat, do you?" Looking at him, he's got somewhat elongated and sharp canines, somewhat like stereotypical vampire, but not nearly as pronounced.

He still looks confused for a moment, but somewhat less so, and it transitions to understanding as he chooses to largely ignore the non sequitur. "Oh, so like coffee, but more. . ." He sniffs again. ". . . Sugary, I think?"

The look of confusion is starting to seem like a permanent feature of Masaru's face. "I have no idea what that means. You're somehow drinking pure energy?"

"Extinction level? I don't think I've ever heard anyone refer to something like that, but I get the gist. Yeah, you're gonna need some organization if you're up against things that are that major of a threat. . . really raises even more questions. . ." He looks at the can questioningly. "What, exactly, is that?" His nostrils flare a bit as he sniffs the air. "It smells. . . odd. To say the least." Indeed, his nose wrinkles a bit; though the drink wasn't exactly the only source of odor in the room. After all, Mar still smelled faintly of viscera, Andre smelled like whatever that Tigrex ate for its last meal, but a week old, and overtop that smell was the overwhelming odor of his body spray.

He reaches out to shake Andre's hand, still looking somewhat confused. Still, his grip was quite firm, and Andre could likely sense the power behind it, if the other parts of his appearance and gear didn't clue him in. "Yamaguchi Masaru. So you've got some kind of monster hunting operation going on here?" He's still got one hand on his massive sword as it rests against his shoulder. One would almost wonder how the damn thing didn't cut him.