IC:

"Truthfully, it wasn't the fairest way to end a match." Alistair admitted, leaning against the wall. "He was ahead in the match. Not out of skill, the difference in skill wasn't very large, certainly something I could have overcome. Not easily, mind you, but I could have."

"No, his advantage was in equipment." He took Hell out of its sheath, hefting it in one hand. "I put both of mine together with... Well, anything I could get my hands on. Hell here probably doesn't have a single part produced in the last six years, and a few parts had to be modified to work at all."

He almost seemed embarrassed while describing his weapon, acutely aware that compared to almost everything here, his really was a junkyard weapon. He was proud of managing to build them, and he was quite happy with how they usually worked, but it was a simple fact that their parts were obsolete, even if he'd managed to wring a competitive level of ability out of the .

"Even that might have been fine. Match was far from over. Then Hell malfunctioned, wouldn't fire, no matter what I did. Examination later showed that one of the parts had worn itself out, but regardless it wasn't good as anything but a club anymore. Which left me with my other weapon. As it stood then, I wouldn't have been able to win. I might have managed it before, but not after that."

"So I pulled a desperation move. I slashed with Heaven, and when he blocked, I locked the weapons together. And then I hurled a red Dust canister at his chest, so it exploded on impact, taking both of our auras into the red, and thus, force a tie."

He paused, thinking for a moment. "Not the most honorable way to tie. But I didn't really have a choice. It was either try it, or watch as years of effort went down the drain."