Friend or Foe?

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Bold is Ezra
Normal is Connor

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And just like that, it was over.

The floor of the arena stained with blood, old and new. He planned to stay the night and help clean up the place, to make it shine and spotless, only for it to be splattered by more gore and glory the very next day. At least this time, there weren't any rolling heads or lost limbs.

He moved aside to let the new guy- or what many of the others may call, "the pretty boy"- walk through. He didn't expect such a performance, how clean it was. He was at least expecting a deep gash in the stomach from the newbie when faced against Lotus. Normally a fight against androids would result in bloodshed or flying parts.

He should stop underestimating newcomers.

He looked at the water bottle in his hand, forgetting he was holding onto it and realizing how tightly he was gripping. The fight was captivating and exhilarating and kept many on the edge of their seats.

He decided to offer the drink to the newbie, walking up to him.

"Thirsty?"

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"Huh?" Connor looked up at the other as they offered him a drink, which he gladly took. Mumbling thanks as he puts on a small gear to cover his mouth wound so he could drink.

Once satisfied, he hands back the bottle before grabbing a towel to wipe off the sweat. Mostly getting ready to go home and rest before his next fight the following day.

He didn't expect much hospitality in something like ring fighting, then again, he figured most were only here for money or glory. With a click and hiss, Connor sheds off his damaged arm gear, letting the blood drip down his arm before he used his towel to stop the bleeding as he dug around his bag for bandages.

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Ezra tilted his head curiously at the gear which covered the other's cheek. Wouldn't it be easier to just take the entire mouth gear off to drink water? Maybe there was a nasty scar or mark that the newbie didn't want to show. Oh well, it was non of Ezra's business.

He grabbed back the bottle, placing it aside as he watched the blood drip when the other's gear was taken off. It was a cut that wasn't as deep as others that he's seen.

"What's your name?" His voice was quiet. "Unless pretty boy is what you go by."

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"Pfft, I mean I wouldn't mind." Connor smirked once he retrieved what he was looking for. "The name's Gavin, what's yours?" He starts wrapping his arm, ignoring the pain as he secures the wrap.

He looks over at the other male, arching his eyebrow slightly. Wondering if he'd had seen the man around before but couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Say.... I feel like I've seen you before..."

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"You can call me Strike," he replied, eyes shifting down to the wrap.

"Not gonna rub disinfectant on that? I'm sure somebody has some." He nodded his head to the crowd, especially the people who seemed to have their attention caught by the newcomer.

"And maybe you passed me by in the morning or something? Or a look alike," Ezra said with a shrug. Gavin did remind him of somebody similar as well, but he didn't want to dwell on it.

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'Strike huh? Cute name but fitting'  Connor thought.

"Nah, I got some disinfectant at home along with other supplies, but thanks for worrying." He flashes a smile at Strike, deciding it was probably best to let his memory come to him later rather on distracting himself.

He shrugs before changing the topic. "So how long have you been fighting here?" Connor needed to remember his purpose here. Gain information about the establishment and get a reputation to gain trust in Barstow.

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"Alright, if you say so," Ezra said with a shrug, wanting to smile back but forgetting the mask that covered his mouth. He couldn't let people recognize he was a fighter and an underground brawler. Not only would he lose his job, but he'd also probably lose a mountain of respect from the underground for being a legal worker. He was only choosing to occasionally be an underground fighter because, to be honest, it was thrilling.

"I've been here for about a month or so," he replied, looking around. "Obviously, many of the others have been here longer. Some nights I'm off doing something else though, maybe having a drink or just taking a break from all the violence here."

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"Fair enough." Connor nodded in understanding as he packed up.

"Oi! Striker! 23:22, red door!" Connor looked over to the manager before turning back at the green male.

"Looks like you're up next. You know who're you up against? Or is it more thrilling to figure that out yourself?" The blue male quirked an eyebrow, faking a different personality so people wouldn't recognize him as easily.

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Ezra turned his head to the manager. "Okay, first of all, it's just Strike."

He faced back to Gavin, taking a step towards the door. "No clue who I'm about to fight but let's just hope this will be entertaining." He gave a small friendly wink before heading off to the door, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins, his heart already banging against his chest ferociously like a drum. Still, he tried to remain cool and calm. This was nothing different from other fights. Just make a good show and stay the fuck alive.

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