[hr][h3][color=a36209]Abraham Gene[/color][/h3][sub][@SepticGentleman] | [@Mega Birb][/sub][hr]
Ah, so this was very much different from what Abe had expected. A big part of him assumed that they were supposed to kick each others' asses, rather than a competition to see who could kick the most asses in the shortest period of time. This sounded like virtual reality the way that Archie described it. The hype of the train slowed down a bit. Beating down a hundred mooks in safety wasn't the same as beating down ten people who knew what they were doing when your life was on the line. That made the rush all the more satisfying. He couldn't imagine having too much fun with Archie's [i]“Arena Combatica”[/i] – he could throw in as much Latin as he wanted to make it interesting, but a fish is what a fish is... still, it couldn't hurt to try it out. Worst comes to worst, he wins an easy challenge, and he's suddenly popular. It [i]definitely[/i] couldn't hurt.

“You know what, Mr. Davis?” Abe asked rhetorically. “I'll humor you – sure, why not? From one businessman to another, you did alright selling your product.”

“...And you, uh...” Abe started as he turned around to look at Blair. He was squinting his eyes and tapping his forehead. It was clear he wasn't paying much attention to her introduction, only that there was a sickly-looking and beat up little girl who was head and shoulders below him, and who – for the life of anyone, who could know [i]why[/i] – was for some reason down for this sort of challenge. The girl with the gas mask and prosthetic arm.

“...Care van Bear. Whatever, I'll call you Bones – [i]Bones[/i]. Keep fighting the good fight from the safety of a hospital bed. I'll make sure to give you a shout-out when I win.”

He shot her a casual (read: non-flirtatious [she's 16, come on]) wink paired with a finger gun, and turned around to bid his farewell to Archie and finally return the handshake he was first offered. “I'll see you whenever, eh?”