[center][h1][color=slategray][i]Oz Morioka[/i][/color][/h1][/center]

Oz hooked his thumbs in his pockets, his eyes focused on the fight in front of him. Both of the combatants moved with a naturalness that spoke volumes about just how familiar they were with this kind of affair. And for perhaps the first time, Oz found himself feeling like maybe he was in a bit over his head. Years of working under Raiha had made him good at slogging through cumbersome manuscripts and picking at the nuances of magic, but what little combat training she had given him clearly paled in comparison to whatever the two figures before him had gone through.

It seemed as though Oz’s question was to go unanswered, seeing as his blond haired companion had yet to say anything. Not that that he was particularly bothered by it, after all small talk wasn’t for everybody and he was hardly the pushy type. But from the corner of his eyes Oz noticed her making some kind of gesture, causing him to shift his gaze her way. His shorter companion had placed one of her hands to his throat, which was adorned with an impossible to miss scar running across it. Oz’s eyes lit up with surprise and his mouth hung slightly agape, the realization that she hadn’t answered him because she was physically unable to dawning on him all too quickly. 

Yet before he could offer any kind of apology, she pointed to the Lifan woman. Oz couldn’t help but smile at her response, bowing his head guiltily.  A brief moment passed as Oz composed himself before he started rustling through his satchel, the noise of which was completely lost amidst the clamor of magic getting tossed every which way. He shuffled past Raiha’s letter, the odd textbook, and even his own relic before he found the notepad he had been using to sketch out different herbs he had been studying on the train.

 It only took him a moment to flip to an empty page and hastily jot something down. Satisfied with his work, he moved to pass off the notepad to his companion. On it he had scrawled out:

[i]I have to agree with your choice. That lady is no joke.

 The name’s Oz by the way.[/i]

[color=slategray]“To be honest,”[/color] he started with a sheepish chuckle while he waited to see if the blond would read his message, [color=slategray]“I’m not sure if this is even more obnoxious for you, so be sure to let me know if it is.”[/color]

Before he could get a response though, the voice of some lady cut through the square, informing delinquent trainers like Oz that he should show probably get a move on. [color=slategray]“Ah!”[/color] the brown haired boy yelped, eyes quickly dropping to the watch on his wrist. [color=slategray]“That’s my cue!”[/color] In his rush to get going, he let go of the notepad. Whether it ended up in the girl’s hands or on the street seemed entirely inconsequential to him.

But as he took off jogging towards the arena, Oz glanced back at the girl once last time and waved. [color=slategray]“If you see me around, feel free to kick me in the shins if you want!”[/color]

[hr]

Oz’s group certainly seemed like a rather rag tag bunch. He immediately recognized the darker skinned youth who had been dueling the Lifanite woman not too long ago, but he had no such luck with the no-nonsense looking brunette or the clumsy looking boy with white hair. The first to break the ice was the latter of which.

[color=slategray]“Nice to meet you Xander, I’m Oz,”[/color] he replied with a smile, his hands tucked behind his head. He glanced between the other two, as if to invite them to go next.


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