[center][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjg4LmZiZjgwZS5RWEpoYlNCVFpXTnlkV1UsLjAA/the-godfather.regular.png[/img][/center]

[hr]

	Aram closed the door to his apartment quietly behind him. After the incident that left him drained on the floor of his kitchen, his ward hadn't let him leave the apartment. That had been days ago. He made his way down the stairs at a furtive pace; today was tournament day, and he wasn't gonna let anything get in his way. He needed to prove himself.

    He had a large cloth cover draped over his arm as he made his way down the street towards where the tournaments where held every year. In said cover was his "serious attire", as he called it. His usual, supply-filled satchel would be replaced by an array of padded pockets inside his suit-coat. The lag of the cumbersome bag would grant him more maneuverability for his sword-play. The set of clothes was a dull red, with pinstripes. Additionally, the back of the coat depicted a large transmutation circle, in a dark, emboldened maroon.

A shadow flew overhead as Aram walked drew close to the tournament area. Aram thought to pass it off as a bird, but it was much too large. Next he knew, a girl descended from the sky under the wing of an angel. Andras. She made an impressive show of landing, laughing as she wielded...a piece of bread, as she announced her arrival. [color=fff79a][i]She always did have a certain chutzpah.[/i][/color]

Aram passed her without second thought, waltzing towards the changing rooms within the tournament grounds with a determined gait. [color=fff200]"Get a move on chachka, they're probably waiting on us."[/color] he said.

Shortly after, he would come out of the dressing area in his tournament attire, stretching his arms above his head. It fit perfectly.

[color=fff200]"Let's get this show on the road."[/color] he said to no-one in particular as he made his way to the grounds.