Slash Hendrix can hear the screams, the cheers, of those baying for synthetic blood to be spilled from beyond the door. He breaths deeply, closing his red eyes, getting into the programming he downloaded. The programming of a killer. Slash open his eyes, glowing red in the dim lighting, as the blades on slide out from compartments in his arms, and calfs. He growls lowly, thinking of you, out in the crowd, watching, supporting him. It helps him want to win when he has the one person he really cares about out in the audience of assholes and scumbags. His intimidating glare sharpens as the cage door opens to the caged off arena, the cheers overwhelming and drowning out the danger of the fight. His eyes quickly scan the surrounding area of the cage, searching for you. He eyes you from a corner, and he smirks, then taps his forehead with one of his arm blades, making a 'tap-tap' metallic sound, a sign he came up with to let you know he's okay and thinking of you. He always thinks of you. His opponent for tonight steps out from the doors opposite of him. His opponent is known as The Metal Giant, being a huge man with a metal jaw. The Metal Giant is gripping his huge battle mace tightly. People make their bets on the outcome of the battle, grabbing their drinks, smoke trailing from cigarettes. The place is full of shady street rats and corrupted business/politicians. Slash grunts to himself, his smirk more pronounced. He runs a metal tongue along his sharp teeth, ready to shed some robot blood. It's time for a show.
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