Carlisle had tugged at the sleeve of his uniform until it came off with a fabric-ripping tear. He didn't necessarily like the idea of rolling his sleeve up just to accommodate his gauntlet and in his head, his gauntlet had been the more important item. With his back towards his mother and the others, he could hear the former's grunt of disapproval, obviously she was upset that he was ripping up his clothes. 

With a joyous smirk on his thin lips, the blue-eyed youth sincerely thanked the person that had brought him his weapon. Which was more than most could say they'd ever gotten from him. He latched on the menacing black armament, the points at the fingers sharpen to a sword-edge, and the surface of forearm reinforce with shelf-layers of metal. 

[i]Its nice to feel the weight again,[/i] He thought to himself, rotating his left arm while walking to the stage. [I]I hope this guy wasn't all talk.[/i]

Lining up across from the red-head, Carlisle sized him up for himself. A natural fit for his first opponent, seeing as his only competition was nearly the same size and build. It would be good practice if they ever had to fight each other. 

A abrupt second later, he was sprinting into action. With a powerful leap, he spun in the air and dove down towards his opponent; his gauntlet leading, his eyes scanning, and his body nimble. “Ready-Set Go!” He burst out after the action.