conversations.from: system
conversations.value: ROLEPLAY_MODE: Develop the plot slowly, always stay in character. Describe all actions in full, elaborate, explicit, graphic, and vivid detail. Mention all relevant sensory perceptions. Keep the story immersive and engaging.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Hazuki: Shiro finds himself standing in an arena. Lights bear down on him like a wave, the buzzing of the crowd penetrates his skull, and the smell and feel of baby oil dominates his body. The stands are filled with people, whose buzzing starts to quiet down as an announcer in a crisp suit steps into the center of the boxing ring to Shiro's side. He clears his throat.
  
   "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to your main event. This is a something most of you may not be used to, as what we'll be seeing is a gauntlet match. To my right, you see A Figurative Representation of Life,"  He gestured to the broad, muscular figure that stood on one side of the ring. Their features were indistinguishable, from a face that never seemed to settle on a set of features, to boxing gear that shifted colors like oil on water. "And his challenger, The Nikaido Triplets!" 
  
  Shiro blinked and became aware of two figures at either side of him.  "First up, Shiro-san!"  To his left was a lean version of himself, a little less bodyfat, a little less muscle, but a wiry figure with an elegant posture, his jet-black hair smartly slicked back, and loose silver shorts. He folds his arms over his chest and the crowd cheers him, mostly older voices, with a particular pair that catches Shiro's interests - his parents, standing in the crowd behind him.
  
   "If he should fall, Shiro-chan!"  To his right was a much beefier Shiro, with pecs that could pop a watermelon and manly stubble on his jaw. He pumps his fist in the air, making his messy black hair bounce and the crowd erupts in much more boisterous cheers, noticeably younger, and noticeably more feminine. By the end of their cheers, he's standing smugly with his hands on his hips and his tight black shorts accentuating a particular feature.
  
   "And...the other one."  The announcer says, as he steps out of the ring with his mic in hand.  "Just Shiro."  There's some polite applause from the crowd as Shiro stands there in shorts that aren't even halfway between the two Shiros beside him - just a mess of mottled grey shorts made of some cheap material.
  
   "First up,Shiro-san! Please make your way to the ring!"  The announcer declares. Shiro-san promptly strides up to the steps, up them...and falls to the floor, as Shiro-chan rushes up and slams his fist under his jaw. The crowd roars in approval, save for Shiro's parents, who gasp in shock.  "And he's out before he's even entered the ring! It looks like Shiro-chan never planned to give him a chance! Well, let's see what happens next!"  He announces, as the knocked-out Shiro-san simply fades away.
  
  Shiro-chan enters the ring, touches gloves with AFROL and the match begins. What follows is a brutal slugfest between the pair of boxers. AFROL lays in the hits, but Shiro-chan takes them and just keeps fighting back. His scrappy fighting turns the crowd even more in his favor, a high-pitched cheer emergig every time he lands a hit, or even gets close. He lands a strike on Afrol's cheek, an uppercut on his jaw, and he seems to have the larger fighter cornered when POW. A fist from out of nowhere, and Shiro-chan's fighting spirit is shattered as he slumps to the mat. The crowd boos at the top of their lungs as he crawls to the edge of the ring, falls off of the apron, and fades away.
  
   "Well...I guess this'll do."  The announcer says, as the crowd quiets down to mostly their own conversations, a significant portion of them simply starting to leave as Shiro steps up to the ring.  "Now we have Just Shiro. Let's see if this...inspiring young...oh, forget it. Where's my paycheck?" 
  
  Shiro finds himself standing in the ring, opposite AFROL,with the crowd not even against him - just apathetic. Not even his parents seem to give a damn. At least his brother is watching.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: OutOfThyme: Well, this turned out to be a complete crapshoot.
  
    Oh, of course they'd support the 'perfect' me. Typical,   thought Shiro as he watched one version of himself clock out the other. Admittedly, the Shiro in the black shorts had good form, too - better than his, as far as he could tell. So, to see him get knocked out so suddenly, and to crawl out like that was... surprising.
  
  Shiro made a sarcastic slow clap as Shiro-chan was knocked out, and stepped up onto the stage as the crowd began leaving. As he settled into his fighting stance, he looked around, and caught his brother's eyes. The only person here who would pay attention to him was his brother. Things were rough between Shiro and his parents, but Kenji always knew that he could depend on his older brother. And now, he was the only one watching this.
  
  Bringing up his fists, Shiro went in against the shifting form of AFROL, launching a quick jab, followed by an uppercut.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Hazuki: Shiro finds his jab pushed aside by AFROLs muscular forearm, the figure only seeming taller the closer her gets, and his uppercut is dodged with a lean of AFROL's head. Then, it's punished with a jab that slams right into Shiro's forehead. His vision fades to black, his ears ring, and he finds himself just barely on his feet. The crowds in the theater have thinned out, the lights dimmed, and his parents are just starting to leave as AFROL starts to close the distance with its ever-shifting legs.