[hr] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/4kQDpyB.png[/img][/center] [right][b][code]Reception Room [@Kamen Evie][/code][/b][/right] [hr][hr] Lucas gave a small smile as the flying, talking bat relieved the tension and complimented him in the same breath. Though in the back of his mind it did further his desire to get out of this life as he found himself talking to a large orange bat without thinking it was in any way bizarre. It was deeper than that though, there was some sort of link of commonality, like meeting someone you went to High School with but couldn't quite place… His thoughts (and mild boost of confidence) were broken however as the ever frequent words ran out from the young woman's lips: "Bizby Land". Like a cold splash of water to the senses, it made Lucas barely suppress a cringe, trying not to react too negatively lest it lead to further mockery. Her insults were different than usual however, they felt more, endearing? Or less malicious? Actually they didn't feel like insults at all as she outright asked for his autograph. Had Perry been on the other-line, he would have literally jumped for joy. [Colour=Yellow]"O-oh it's no problem."[/colour] Lucas said with a sheepish grin, fishing around in his bag and retrieving a pen - one with a masked luchador atop the end and emblazoned with the words "This Pen Is Mightier Than The Piledriver!!!!". Lucas, shakily, wrote his name as small and out of the way as he possibly could. [Colour=Yellow]"T-there's no need to a-apologise."[/colour] He looked up at her with another little smile. [Colour=Yellow]"I g-guess I just never r-really saw it as an inspirational story before."[/colour] [centre][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjYwLjAwMDAwMC5USFZqWVhNZ1RXbHNiR1Z5LjA,/domestic-manners.regular.webp[/img][/centre] He took the chance to glance down and scan the other signatures dotting the skateboard. [Colour=Yellow]"Jaden Raldo, Renard Bleu, Rodney Lyte, Wal-,"[/colour] His voice heightened ever so slightly [colour=Yellow]"Oh, wow, you met Walter Duncan?"[/colour] A small chuckle. Not one of nervousness or in an attempt to diffuse a bad situation, but one of sincere enjoyment. [Colour=yellow]"S-sorry I don't think I got y-your name. Are y-you competing o-or?"[/colour] He had enough found confidence to ask the question, but not quite enough to keep the momentum going, trailing off in a way that was painfully trying to seem natural. [hr] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/8dMMVUC.png[/img][/center] [right][b][code]Reception Room [@Wikkit][/code][/b][/right] [hr][hr] For a brief second, Florian was taken aback by the sheer directness of the young woman. He quickly composed himself and let out a chuckle at a pitch so perfect it must have been at least somewhat rehearsed. He took Yazhu’s hand and held it slightly aloft, as though she were a noblewoman at a gala and not an exceedingly young looking Taoist floating a few inches above him. [colour=palegreen]”A spot of both, I suppose you could say!”[/colour] His inflection was vibrant, as though this were some sort of talk show and they were both fated to speak this morning. He released her hand and held both his own behind his back, making him resemble some sort of dignified royal guard. [colour=palegreen]”I’d hoped to get an idea of some of the competition, events like these are such a… how you say… “melting pot”? There is much knowledge to be gained!”[/colour] His head tilted, his smile remaining but with an added touch of sympathy. [colour=palegreen]”Though I feel I must inform you, there are a few immortals attending these next few days if my sources are correct.”[/colour] His chipper attitude returned just as quickly as it had left. [colour=palegreen]”Don’t fret on it however, think of it as a learning opportunity!”[/colour] He added, not intending to be demeaning but doing little to actually convey as such. His expression shifted [i]again[/i] to one of over-dramatic horror. [colour=palegreen]”Forgive me! My manners… I have yet to even introduce myself!”[/colour] He gave a slight bow towards Yazhu, returning upwards with his eyes closed along with an expression of pride and a hand delicately placed on his chest. [colour=palegreen]”My name is Florian Wessington, fighter, athlete, aristocracy, artiste and heir to the Minerva Defense Logistics corporation and any of its associated holdings. I will be competing in this tournament and have no intention of losing.”[/colour] His eyes opened, his smile widened, somehow giving off a glistening sparkle that could blind lesser beings. [colour=palegreen]”An absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance, how might I address yourself?”[/colour] He beckoned towards her with an open palm, as if passing her the proverbial basketball of conversation.