Carth's magical adventure, ROUND TWO, MOTHERFUCKERS!

[Anastasia]

"Very well. Non lethal stun bullets will be provided, but a weapon will not. You may use any non energy gun model you wish. Please proceed to the D bracket locker room. You will be called when your match is ready." the robot says. "Next?" it says before you even get a chance to move.

[Carthrat]

Carthrat whistles as he walks off to find the 'D' block room. "Efficent! I start to remember why droids bug me so much," he mutters..

[Anastasia]

The D bracket locker room is smallish, with a few rows of small metal lockers and low benches. The smell of sweat and minimal cleaning assails your nostrils.

Various scruffy looking humanoids and beaten up robots lurk around, killing time until their match.  None of them take and special interest in you when you enter.

[Carthrat]

Carthrat twirls a 9mm on his index finger, unloading the clip.

Suddenly, he has an epiphany!

I'm *so* glad I skipped all the high school classes for P.E.. stupid teachers.

[Anastasia]

An half hour passes. None of the other competitors make any effort to start a conversation with you, keeping amongst themselves.

Finally, to break the boredom, a service robot comes in. "Will Doga and Carthrat Tanewaki please report to the match ready room? Thank you." On that, an 50ish, washed up looking human stands, limping out of the locker room, the light flashing off his bald head.

[Carthrat]

Carthrat reports to the match ready room, keeping a level expression on his face and sizing up the other man..

[Anastasia]

The other mand is a bald human with a bad leg, his caramel colored skin sagging under the weight of his loose shirt and pants. He looks like nothing more than a washed up bum.

In the ready room...

"What arms will you be using for this match," the robot asks.

[Carthrat]

"9mm Glock 20," replies Carthrat, producing the spoke-of weapon.

[Anastasia]

The other man produces a .37 caliber gun.

"Very well." The mech scoots off, soon returning with two clips of stun bullets each. "In the event that this array of bullets is not enough, hand to hand combat is permissable in that event only. Should one's gun be disarmed, one must retreive it. Should it be unretrieable, you shall forfiet the match. Are there any last questions?"

[Carthrat]

Jamming a clip into his gun, Carthrat shakes his head, making a note to deactivate his personal shield. After all, that just wouldn't be fair.

[Anastasia]

The robot goes on. "Thank you, and good luck to the both of you."

A few minutes pass...Soon, a man comes in, sweaty and happy. A minute later, a red skinned alien is dragged in, it's nose broken and blue blood all over his face.

"The next competitors may enter the arena now."

[Carthrat]

Carthrat strides into the arena, looking to pick out Rachels face in the crowd..

[Anastasia]

Fron down in the battle pit, you find that it's hard to see the crowd, let alone one face...

The arena floor is covered with red sand, and is a bit soft to stand on. Metal walls form a rough square, while above force fields allow watchers to be protected.

Once in, you two face opposite each other while the annoucer rolls off the match details. The crowd seems mostly apathetic, you note.

"Ready," the annoucer says, "BEGIN!"

[Carthrat]

Carthrat cartwheels to the side, kicking up as much sand as he can as he does so and using his cloak to distract the man.

There's *always* time to show off in a gladiatorial bout. Besides, if the people like you, then they'll put more money on you, which in some convuluted way leads to more cash for *you*.

[Anastasia]

The man makes one shot, which is lost in the whirl of sand you propel upward. He looks around frantially, obviously not expecting something like this, and is further puzzled by your cloak gambit. He's more or less open for an easy shot now.