[h2][center]Kumozaki Keisuke[/center][/h2]
"The Berserkers, huh...?" the Enforcer mused as he looked at the two Servants in question. "Well, I can't deny that they're certainly... Physically imposing and a tad rowdy, for sure, but I'm not seeing much else yet. Raw physical strength isn't always the solution to problems, though, but... Hm..."

His Servant's mention of Meleager, though, caused Keisuke to pause momentarily as he processed the name in his mind. Meleager, Meleager...

[i]"Wait, wasn't that the guy who killed his relatives to give the pelt of that demon boar thing to Atalanta?"[/i]

Though mythology wasn't any particular strong suit of his, once the call had come in for him to travel out here one of his colleagues had tossed him a few books and patted him on the back. He hadn't made much headway by now, though; Ovid's Metamorphoses was really not his style, but it was the only one he had managed to read, so the information was at least somewhat fresh in his mind. Hopefully, that comparison wasn't anything like an ill omen. Was it supposed to be a compliment?
...
Probably?

"Er... Yeah, sure. Meleager. Well, if I've said it twice now, I certainly don't think I have to say it a third," he said with a shrug. The memory of the piece, though, finally gave some reason behind his Servant's ears and tail. Turned into a lion by the gods. Right.

Gods were pretty weird with their justice, weren't they?

Atalanta's sudden declaration of a competition caused him to almost choke of the last bit of rice in his mouth, though. With a few coughs and a few moments of pounding on his chest with his fist, Keisuke turned to look between Atalanta and the two Berserkers.

"...Geez. Hope this ain't gonna end with a giant mess to clean up. Staff are never happy with giant messes after meals," he muttered under his breath as he slowly completed his meal.
'bout damn time, too.

[hr][h2][center]Sakata Kintoki[/center][/h2]
"Uh huh. Uh huh. Aight, gotcha," Kintoki said, nodding his head in understanding... Or, well, what he assumed to be understanding. "So. Big bad incident. You're here to make sure things don't go 'kaboom' on us, then help fix that mess. Or is it 'messes'? Well, whatever. Point is, though, there's a lotta people here, which means that there's gotta be a lotta stuff to stop, right?"

It was a really big generalization, granted, but for Kintoki it was a good enough explanation to get the gist of everything. The only problem was probably the fact that he didn't know any [i]specifics[/i], but he could leave that to his Master to deal with if the need ever arose. It was then, though, that he heard someone call out to him from somewhere not within arm's reach. Which meant they were at LEAST talking above everyone else. Which meant...
Probably something to listen to, right?

"Hm? A competition? Athletics?" Kintoki asked, perking up as he heard the cat-eared Servant across the room, his head turning to face the source with a single eyebrow raised. His eyes were still covered by his shades, granted, but the curious smile painted on his face was information enough to know that his attention was caught. The call of another Servant caused the golden Berserker to turn once more, somewhat amused by the boasting coming from over there.

"You kiddin' me? There's a reason [i]this[/i] guy's got GOLD written all over him!" he yelled back, getting out of his seat before realizing that his Master hadn't authorized any of this.

Until she did, of course. Oh MAN, was she a Master with a heart of gold or what?
...
Well, like, that'd be cool and all, but it was more like... Well, half stone and half gold? Gold ore?
Eh, good enough.

With that grin from earlier now turning into a large smile showing off his pearly whites, Kintoki cracked his knuckles and his neck before casually strolling to the center of the room. He was aware that any [i]actual[/i] wrestling might cause some problems (namely, damage to the food still around the area... And maybe the floor. And the furniture. And the bystanders, probably), and thus thought for a moment before pulling an empty table to the space in front of himself, dragging along two chairs in the process. Turning to the Berserker who had called him out rather than the catgirl off to the side, Kintoki took his seat and motioned towards his opponent to take the one opposite his own.

"Arm wrestling. I ain't messing with the food by doing anything serious, so worst comes to worst, we'll just break the table. That golden with ya?"

Though he remained rather humble compared to the other Berserker, Kintoki was still quite confident in his own abilities. He had long since learned not to judge a book by its cover, though, if his escapades on Mt. Ooe were anything to go by.

The other Berserker swaggered on over to the other side of the table and took the seat for him, and thus the stage was set. Kintoki smiled as he and the other Berserker locked arms, elbows planted firmly on the table.

"Name's Kintoki, by the way. On the count of three, we go, aight?"

The Japanese Berserker counted down slowly, which was strange considering his mannerisms, but once he had shouted 'go!', both men seemed to tense up as they braced themselves.

It didn't last long, quite frankly. It only took a few seconds for Kintoki to gain momentum and a few more after that for him to go the rest of the way. Luckily, the table didn't break, but it at least showed the difference in strength between the two.

"Phew! That was fun!" Kintoki shouted, pumping his other arm in the air in victory.