The man in the suit shifted, glancing over his shoulder when the blue flash provided a sort of backlight to the rest of the central hall, then back to the display... and lingered there for a moment after the question was asked.<br/><br/>Another moment's silence.<br/><br/>At last, he straightened from his squatting position and half-turned away, addressing the air: "Oi!  There's another... new..."<br/><br/>Then, quite definitively, surprise, as he looked around the room.  "The furry little bastard buggered off," he mumbled, scowling.  "Fuck me rotten."  And, with that, he rounded on the newcomer and gave him an appraising glance.  "You're here," the man began, trying to remember what he'd heard, "because you've been chosen to fight in this place.  It's called the Arena of the Nexus of Worlds, or something like that.  The only way out is to become an Eternal Champion, and then you can either go home or make a world in your honor.  You challenge people.  You win, you get a piece of the loser.  Lose enough, you get made into a slave.  Win enough, you get to -have- pets, make the people you beat more to your taste.  You can turn down a fight, but it always costs you points."<br/><br/>He indicated the seeing-mist with a thumb.  "No holds barred.  Fight 'em.  Fuck 'em.  Charm 'em.  So long as they submit.  Someone gets cacked, they come back here no worse for wear, though they still get to suffer having lost.  Pick someone, challenge 'em, and that's how the games work.  Any questions?"