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"Hr...mphhh... mmmm MMmmm M M M MM M M M EHERAGKGLBBBBLBLLEE" Cried out fighter Bin-Bin-Woozy, vomiting furiously all over the arena floor. He was a large fighter. Round tummy, tuffed-back poofball hair, various flasks and gourds hanging off his hilt. Still, the bearded, tall fighter's most distinct quality..

"Wheresh mi' opponit- oh gods... Oh GODSSShhMRMRRMLRLBLBLBLBLBLEE" ..was his vomit. It flung across the arena floor, coating much of it in green, pale, sickly chicken chunks and various ales. The smell appalled the crowd.

"Mrmrmhhhrherrrr.." Grunted [BBW], wiping his chin on one tan sleeve. Where was that young'yun opponent of his.. he had a few choice words for 'im. Mmmhmm.

Arc wasnt precisely sure why he had been called back to the arena as he stepped out of the shadow of his entry gate. But when he arrived within, he decided very promptly that he wished he had not. Before him stood a monstrosity and not necessarily in the physical sense. What awaited seemed to be a man, albeit a man one could easily mistake for some sort of mutant pig. In the time it had taken Arc to move from the first aid tents to the arena, the man had spewn filth all over the place. Vomit covered large areas of the arena, and by the smell of it the man had consumed more than a healthy amount of alcohol before coming to this, match? I guess you would call it a match. Arc wasnt sure why he was in another fight before the beginning of round two, and he didnt care, he chose instead to finish this as quickly as possible. Arc would circle the arena for a moment finding a clear patch of ground in which to find his footing on the inside of the arena.

The man's proclivities aside, and his hygiene irrelevant for the moment Arc took what he knew and considered the possibilities. His mind settled on the first possibility, and his right hand went to the katana on his left side. Settling there he turned the right side of his body towards his opponent slightly and gathered himself. This was an unfortunate fight, in large part because the previous fight had left several patches of blackened skin upon the half angel, places where he had been touched with cold so intense it instantly killed the surface skin cells of his body. In addition to that, the fight was so recent, that one of his most potent spells was still regaining energy for its next casting. Gritting his teeth and breathing through his mouth to counteract much of the smell Arc narrowed his eyes upon the pool of filth his opponent was currently standing in.

There was so much vaporous alcohol in the area that a fire spell would probably ignite the large majority of the platform, an interesting proposition given Arc's current mood. Deep breaths in through his mouth and out through his nose controlled the young swordsmans biometrics. Fury shaped and sharpened gathered within his mind steeling his will and obliterating his unwillingness to be exposed to this filth. His left hand rose to his cowl pulling it up over his mouth as something of a filter.

Arc spun his katana out, a flash in the sunlight the only tell as it seemed to appear in his right hand held forward. His opponent would stomp forward closing to within striking distance surrounded by a sphere of his own vomit. Alcohol coated the floor of the arena as he stomped through his own vomit, and Arc tipped the blade down and forward tip to the ground blade up and forward facing. Blue gold eyes flashed at the abomination which approached before him and the flash of pent up magical energy ignited as a fire behind his eyes one more inhaled breath through his mouth, the acidic fumes in the arena burning his throat and he exhaled this time using that exhalation to speak a single trigger word.

"Kaji"

As the word left his lips magic flared to life around him flowing down his arm and into the hand wielding his katana. White fire exploded from the blade, hot enough to instantly ignite the alcohol fumed across the arena, starting with an area five feet in front of him. Starting as a pool of fire at Arc's feet, he would use his opponent ability against him. That pool would spread like a wild fire across every vomit covered inch of the arena.

unfortunately if any alcohol remained in his system as he vomited his shield his shield would catch fire as well generating enough heat to cause his own vomit to boil, and to cook him within it if he did not escape the sphere of his own creation. If on the other hand it did not ignite, the heat would agitate the acids in the puke shield and cause it splash too and fro, including inward with the potential of causing acidic burns on the mans skin.

The man had said something about remembering Arc, a doubtful occurrence considering to the best of his knowledge he had never met such a disgusting creature. His father still lived, and his mother still plied her arts as a sword smith. At any rate that piece of the puzzle didnt matter much to Arc as his primary focus now would be on his opponent.

Arc smiled and almost literally fell backward right off the edge of the platform, any view of him was obstructed by the man's own attack now a fiery ball of regurgitated spray. As he fell backwards he sheathed his katana preparing for the next engagement.

To all the world, except those behind Arc in the stands, the swordsman would appear to have been struck down by the fiery spray of fluids. Especially to his opponent who could only assume that Arc had been entirely consumed by the acidic fiery sphere of bodily disgust.

Arc was counting on the man arrogance to make him turn his back and raise his arms in victorious celebration, or his curiosity to cause him to come look over the edge of the ring. That way he could strike with speed, viciousness, and surprise in either circumstance.