[center][color=saddlebrown][h1]Johannes[/h1]

[b]Interacting with:[/b][/color] [@1Charak2], [@Rune_Alchemist], [@The Irish Tree][/center]

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[color=saddlebrown][b]"What, you didn't bring anything for [i]me?"[/i][/b] Johannes said disappointedly as he sauntered sleepily into the room, sipping a can of iced coffee. He burped loudly and chucked the crushed can into a garbage bin on the far side of the room, scoring a perfect rimshot that caused the metal canister to spin a little. Yawning, he reached over and casually put an arm over the ex-Yakuza driver's shoulder.

[b]"That's cold, man. [i]Real[/i] cold. In fact, I almost feel like crying,"[/b] he said through fake sobs and thick crocodile tears. [b]"I-In fact, I think *sniff* the only way for you to make it up to me is to buy me a [i]big[/i] beef bowl after practice. Maybe then *sniff* I could stop... th-these tears!"[/b]

Grinning, he immediately let go just in time to dodge the retaliatory strike he knew would be coming, backing off to stand by his precious Lady Schwertleite and giving Suisei a friendly raspberry. 

Of course he knew it was training day today. Tuesday. His [i]favorite[/i] day of the week. Tuesdays meant he not only got to fight with the others as much as he wanted (always fun, especially when Suisei was his opponent), but he could watch the two people he respected most, Schwertleite and Camael, in action. They were the only two people here who he (begrudgingly) acknowledged as being better fighters than himself, and their fights were always a joy to behold for a battle-maniac like Johannes, the Twenty-First Century Viking. 

And of course, it being Tuesday was all the reason he needed to rile Suisei up at such early hours of the morning. He wanted a good fight after all, and Suisei just wasn't at the top of his game unless he was properly pissed the hell off. It was something Johannes didn't quite understand, but the yakuza didn't seem to share the friendly enthusiasm he had for the flying of fists. Violent as yakuza men could be, they always needed a [i]reason[/i] to fight, as if the thrill of fighting itself wasn't already enough of a reason. And being pissed off was usually good enough to satisfy them.

[b]"Camael, when are the matches gonna start?"[/b] he asked impatiently, well aware he was the last one to arrive. [b]"You're not gonna pick the names out of a hat again, are you?"[/b][/color]