Obi-Wan is aging surprisingly well (obi1) wrote in valarlogs,
Obi-Wan ran his forearm across his face, depositing about as much sweat as he collected. He turned and meant to follow Loras back inside--perhaps to congratulate him--but the fiery eyes of the others in the room made him think better of it. It was probably best that they weren't seen together from this point on.
The second fight was a slightly more even match, against two Obi-Wan didn't know: Jersey Joe and Oscar De La Killya--which was just overkill, wasn't it? But what did it matter? He knew he wouldn't be fighting either of them. He spent the time searching the crowd for Kitty, without any luck. Though, as he stepped into the ring himself, he considered not seeing Kitty a good sign. It probably meant she was safe. Anything otherwise would have caused an indoor tornado of ass-kicking, as she delicately might have put it. He'd witnessed that firsthand.
He had been paired against someone he did, in fact, know, but had never fought: Six Heads. Obi-Wan even knew his actual name: Stan Brinkman. Just two years ago, the name had stood for Stan's ability to take hit after hit, without falling. Now, it looked more like he actually had six heads. The swollen features didn't match. And he bobbed like he had a few drinks in him.
Catching Lozano's bleached smile from the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan knew that the pairing was meant to secure his advancing to the next round.
The bell rang.
Twenty minutes later, six heads was on the floor. And Obi-Wan swallowed hard against the bile rising his his throat.