"... then, I basically slammed his helm onto the ground— I must have done it harsher than I really wanted to, because it went SPLAT and..."

Swordtail continued on, ignoring the fact that you zoned him out a while ago, the gladiator continued boasting about his most recent victory with smug triumph.

He continued to describe the scene, his enthusiasm unwavering, the mech's optics glinting with a hint of satisfaction as he recalled the events with perfect accuracy down to how loud his opponent's voice sounded as he begged for mercy, his dramatic hand gestures and theatrics only made the image more vivid in your imagination...

You just sorta listen (not even) and let him go off, the gladiator telling a story that would usually be considered pretty gruesome and horrifying in nature in such an energetic and animated manner, you find it's weirdly endearing, in it's own sick way.

He relished in telling these violent stories, almost as though it gave him some dark sense of pleasure and accomplishment, the mech almost seemed... satisfied with himself. Despite the brutality he was recounting, you notice that he seemed strangely calm and composed, his demeanor almost contradicting the dark deeds he had just described. At some point he went completely silent, as if wondering something, before starting up again.

The gladiator's boasting slowly faded out into the background as you tuned him out entirely and continued with your own thoughts, but at some point he suddenly stopped talking once more.

"Hey, Doc. Are you even listening?" Swordtail asked, the taller mech turning helm gingerly to not aggravate a wound on his neck, now staring at you out of the corner of his optics as you as you tended to an injury on his upper arm.