"Sure." Despite the half-turn, Izu's story is peppered with simple and energetic movements or representations of things. "Now, keep in mind, this was when I decided to quit, but I still fought a few times afterwards. Knew I wasn't going to be getting better money, and as long as I was able to keep mostly winning I knew I'd be able to fund what I wanted to do."<br/><br/>The elf's words paint a picture of a greasy, low end bar that had one redeeming features. A deep, sandy pit in the middle where every night there was a succession of fights. Sometimes they were skilled fights between two brawlers that would never sell a fight in a respectable venue, but had every eye on 'em in that pit. Sometimes it was two people that had tried to run from their tabs, and the winner of the sandpaper-gloves match would walk out with no tab, a little medical attention, and a night on the house. But the time that Izu is talking about is when a younger, much less modified elf went in an old school match with an old ork.<br/><br/>The gear was armored mostly to protect the simsense gear in the helmet, the top, and the boxers. Very, very light armor, but one that could capture the feel of each punch or toss. The elf in question, because Izu's telling the story in a strange third person way talking about the elf and the ork, had been tossed around two or thee times, and was feeling a bit sore from where the ork had managed to win a grapple and stretch out the elf's back and abs a bit more than was just painful.<br/><br/>But luck and a handful of sand brought the two back to a standing position. The elf knows that the end is basically now. Either the bobbing and weaving works and the ork takes two heavy blows to the head, or those metal legs lead to another painful stretch and then there's no getting out of it. The ork takes the bait, misses two good looking jabs, and goes down to the elf's right.<br/><br/>But, as the ork's going down, the elf takes one cybered-up leg right between the uprights and discovers that the ork had some kind of spikes put in that leg. And after almost getting a very nasty anal puncture (almost, nothing important got cut, luckily), the elf decided that second hand reaction enhancers weren't enough. At first it the goal was second hand plastic on the bones and bad wires and pumps across the body.<br/><br/>And now its, well, metal in the bones, chrome to replace a lost arm, and a few other things.<br/><br/>The tale does lose a little punch because Izu actually ends it with a sudden realization. "And now I'm kind thirsty."