Zipper’s verbatim

outfit but no hat

Cam frequented this place more than they wanted to admit. However this time they didn't want to just watch. They wanted to participate. So they plopped their name into whatever list, bowl or board was required to be written on and waited their turn. Which did not seem as though it would be super long as they were called up into the next free ring.

They readied themselves in a defensive stance. Hands wrapped as they had convinced (paid) someone else to do it for them, but that was about as far as it went for protective gear. Hands raised to guard their face, but a playful shit-eatting grin could likely be spotted behind it.
How had Caleb gotten here? He couldn't really say now that his stomach was full of alcohol and his head swam in a different world entirely. He'd signed up at some point in the night, though he clearly didn't remember it as his name was called up to the "stage".

A loud whoop as he staggered from his seat and shimmied up the steps, well, fell up the steps really, as he called up to the person who'd also been announced. What was the name? Tam? Bam? Sam? Eh, who cared it wasn't like he needed to know to collect whatever prize he'd won. "What we win?" He asked, glancing back to the other winner to see that they were preparing for... A fight?

Huh? Another glance at the "stage" and it became clear that this was a ring, which totally explained why people had been fighting earlier. "Oh shit." His hands would pull up, only quite a bit less confident than his opponent.
Now, Cam hardly ever felt deeply bad. They didn't even feel bad totally here when faced with a guy who looked like they had no clue what he had been ushered into doing.

You know what that meant for them?

Easy win was likely! Probably a quick fight too, enough for them to consider maybe another after this. So once the man raised his hands into a feeble block they would be quick to swing. One leg right out into the right side of his own legs. Roughly level with the knees for maximum ruining-someone's-day type shit.

How much would that fuck up his legs? Or, y'know, his head if he fell and hit it when landing?



The answer to that question was that it fucked up both a lot!

Caleb could have sworn he'd heard a crunch as their leg swung into him, eyes widening as his whole body just sort of collapsed beneath him and the side of his face slapped hard against the mat beneath them both. Gasping like a fish out of water, Caleb knew instantly that they couldn't fuck with this motherfucker fairly, and so in a blink of the eye, he'd disappear into nothingness.

Rolling away as best he could so that he could have some distance to reevaluate.

Dice were kind and gave him full use of power so no sound/smell and all that jazz.

Just as soon as he hit the floor, he seemed to vanish. It was like the dude had never been here. It inspired a wild eyed amber look in their eyes and a general air of confusion.

Luckily it seemed the crowd was just as confused as they were. An uproar of confused mumbles and "HEY WHAT THE FUCK" being combined. Some people angry about bets they may have placed, others wondering if they had too much to drink.

"Uhhh..." They trailed off, slowly backing up towards an exit from the ring, but not yet fully committed to leaving.
Crawling, Caleb was able to put some distance between both him and his opponent. He couldn't exactly go in on this guy without risking another fucking hit, and so he had to do something else... But what?

Embarrass him? That sounded good enough to him, and so with his new power in hand, he'd go in on ripping away whatever this dude had.

Summoning, Caleb definitely intended to take this guy's pants away from him, but instead, he would pull the left wrap located on the person's hands, and instead, his own pants would take their place.
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