ands at 5’ 10” with long, wild black hair, reaching all the way down his neck. He has a clear complexion and dimples when he gives a kind smile, and his hazel eyes are calm and unjudging. Not being one to workout to an excessive degree, Roy is subtly strong. He has a faint six pack, but he’s not one to show it off. In public, a pair of jeans and plain T-shirt tends to be his wardrobe, and is more often than not unarmed. His gear however, is always in his car when he isn’t home or it isn’t on him.

And speaking of his gear, when he gets suited up, he does so in a way to ensure the people he knows won’t recognize him in the RHG, and so the gladiators and fans won’t recognize him in the streets. When he’s going to a battle, he wears a spray painted black hockey mask under a bone white hoodie. Under the jacket, he has a shirt, and under the mask, a ski one, also pitch black. He still wears his jeans however, only then they have a pair of blowguns hanging from his belt loops, both spray painted gold. On the shirt, he has a sash of darts laced in a sleep inducing ointment, spanning from his right shoulder to left hip.[/spoiler]

��s just a man with dreams and ambition. If he had his way, he’d be an actor, which is a goal he’s been pursuing as long as he can remember. Every year he joined drama club and played a leading role in the plays and musicals. He doesn’t brag about his voice, but he’s a solid singer and knows his way around a guitar. He sees himself as an entertainer, so he tries to make light of situations, and even when he grows afraid, he is able to hide it though what he learned in his acting classes. It’s easy for him to lie, but he’s more of an honest man who would like to create real bonds with the people he interacts with. Naturally social, he easily makes conversation with strangers and doesn’t hesitate to stand up for one. Above all else however, he’s a father figure, and more importantly, brother to the last remaining member of his family. Money’s tight, so he rarely spends anything on himself, just a CD every now and then. Everything else is for his 10 year old brother, Leo, or as he calls him, ‘Little Lion’. Neither brother seems to be fond of combs!

He does not have what it takes to take a life.[/spoiler]

o most warriors. Instead of dual wielding guns knives or swords, he battles with two gold painted steel blow guns, each about a foot in length. Being hollow, he can move them extremely quickly. Between his hoodie and shirt, he keeps a sash from right shoulder to left hip lined with the darts, each one laced with a special toxin. Once it gets into the blood, it rapidly causes a deterioration of alertness, ending with loss of consciousness within minutes. It has no long term effects, but is rumored to cause horrible nightmares while within the bloodstream. The target will slowly awake after roughly an hour depending on the dosage, but it can take a few days for it to drain entirely out of one’s system.

He dual wields for the sake of up close combat considering he cannot unload darts like a machine gun. Additionally, considering the speed at which the darts fly, it is ineffective anywhere past twenty feet, unless his foe is unaware of his presence.

Although he has no magic, he can move quickly and silently, and considering he fights basically in disguise, he can abandon his outfit to slip into a crowd if the situation is dire enough to call for it.[/spoiler]

extremely vulnerable target, and when his hood’s down or his jacket is just entirely off, there’s about a foot of hair for someone to grab if he tries to make a break for it. Additionally, his darts have very limited piercing ability. They can get through one’s clothes, but if they're wearing too many layers or any armor, they’ll be utterly ineffective.[/spoiler]

o encouraged him his entire school career and fully supported what he wanted to make of himself. In his junior year of high school he landed his first job at a local forest themed restaurant, the Between the Trees Diner, where he became a waiter until he moved for college. While there, he excelled in his classes, and even played a part in a small independant movie. After his first year however, all his plans were shattered by a phone call at a friend’s grad party.

“Leroy Hope...this is officer Stanley Nevers. I don’t know how to tell you this...but...there was an accident. Your parents were killed in a head on collision with a drunk driver... You have my deepest sympathies for your loss.”

It felt like his heart stopped. It had to be some sick prank from a classmate… but… somehow… it was real. And inside, it killed him.

“Do you have any next of kin?”

And in that exact moment, it suddenly struck him that his little brother had suddenly become an orphan. Both of his parents were an only child, and his grandparents had all either passed away or were in a home. There was a pit in his throat, but he forced words to come out.

“N-no. I-I can take care of Leo.”

It took time and effort, but Roy was able to become his brother’s legal guardian, and even moved back home so Little Lion wouldn’t have to lose all his friends too. The Between the Trees Diner took him back, but suddenly having a mortgage and taxes to pay, a waiter’s salary just wasn’t enough. He lost the house and had to take his brother to an apartment, and for a while, that was enough. Money was tight as a noose, but they could still breathe. One final near tragedy forced Roy to take a leap of faith however. Over the course of several weeks, their puppy, the companion that never left Leo’s side, never wavered, was always a smiling face in the darkest of days, grew deathly ill.

Finally seeing Sparky wasn’t going to get better on his own, Roy took he and Leo to the vet, who upon examination explained that the dog would have to undergo surgery, estimating the cost would be well over $1000. It just wasn’t something he could afford, he was already behind on rent as it was. When his brother asked, he was at a loss of words, and as gently as he tried to put it, tears welled in his little brother’s eyes when he said he was going to have to put Sparky to sleep. He’d never seen Leo cry so much, not counting when he spoke at their parents funeral, only that, he could do nothing about, and they both knew it. Leo begged his brother to do something, anything, he didn’t care, he just wanted his dog to be okay. Trying to dam the waterfall in Leo’s tear ducts, Roy racked his brain for an answer.

The independant movie he was in, Samurai Slaughter, was an action flick. He wasn’t the lead, but he was a leading good guy, Phantom, a ninja who had mastered the blowgun. Roy wasn’t a master by any means, but he dedicated three hours a day to it the entire time the movie was filmed, and even decided to keep at it as a little hobby when it ended. He wanted to be able to do his own stunts, and he did. So...maybe the stunts he learned could be enough keep him alive if he took a risk for a better life.

Perhaps what he had taught himself could make him a halfway decent gladiator, and more importantly a brother who could actually provide for the last of his family.[/spoiler]

ptionist looked up at me like I was some kind of joke before bringing her gaze back down on the sheet of paper dangling in her hands. Annoyed and kinda insulted, my hands slid into my pockets as my irritated eyes scanned the RHG recruitment hall. “...And you fight with blowguns. That’s fantastic. You left special abilities blank.”

Sighing to keep a snide remark inside, I shrugged instead, re-establishing eye contact. “All the examples sounded like magic, I don’t have any of that.”

A long sigh passed through her as she penned a ‘NA’ in the area. “You know this can only end one way, right?”

Through the holes in my hockey mask, the woman could see my eyes narrow, “Look, I’m not doing this for me, alright?”

“Then is this person really worth dying for?”

“Yes actually, he is.” Crossing my arms, I held a constant glare on the receptionist, “This is my only option, and I’m taking it.”

“Listen, Hollywood, of the last ten people who tried out without any magic, two survived, and one of them was hospitalized. I don’t want to see another youth throw their life away for glory or whatever it is they think they’re fighting for.”

“I’m fighting so my brother doesn’t have to live on the street.”

Pushing up her glasses, the woman leaned slightly across her desk, looking directly into my eyes. “Then what happens to him when you die?”

“I won’t. I’ll make sure I’m in the ten percent.”

About a minute of silence passed, a quiet battle of wills before she finally caved.

“Fine,” She sighed, “If I can’t talk you out of this, your arena is number eight, the fourth on the left. Good luck, you’ll need it.”

Unsure of how I should take that, I simply nodded as I began walking towards the areas. I knew what I was in for, and as much as I tried to hide it, I know what I showed. Fear. Although hooked into my jeans pocket, I could feel a persistent tapping from my index finger against my leg, and my heart was thumping against my chest so hard I was afraid something would bruise. I could hear the thoughts running through my head, screaming at me like a hail of gunfire.

This isn’t safe, you’re going to get yourself killed! What would Little Lion think if he knew you were doing this!? What would Mitch or Dom? What would Janett!? They’d all think you’re insane! And they’re right!

Shaking my head, I let go of a quivering breath as I reached the arena hall. There seemed to be a few others pacing with me by, one double my height, one in a full suit of armor, but I could hear another coming from behind, steadily catching up as his feet pounded on the eerie red floor.

“Hey!” I almost jumped out of my skin at the suddenness of his voice, spinning around in an instant to face him. Chuckling awkwardly as my startled eyes scanned him, he scratched the back of his head. Wearing a long cyan cloak which dragged across the floor as he walked and some kind of one way black fabric over his face from his hood, he was more concealed than I was. “Sorry about that!” He quickly apologized, placing a hand on my shoulder, “I didn’t mean to freak you out! Just figured it’d be good to start making buddies while we’re still in the same boat! I’m F, who are you?”

“...Hollywood,” I replied, scratching the back of my neck, “Do you mean F like the letter?”

“Yeah, exactly like the letter,” He nodded happily, extending a hand to me, which after a momentary hesitation, I took with a brief shake, “Project F!”

“Alright, I’ll bite, how’d you get a nickname like that?”

“Like Project?”

I failed to come up with a sarcastic response as my hand found its way back half into my pocket. “Yeah.”

“It’s just something Alpha Dog names all their experiments-”
“Whoawhaowhao!” My open palm blasted out to about an inch in front of the fabric concealing F’s face, “Did you just say experiment?!”

“Yep,” He nodded nonchalantly, “Dog had me ever since I was few years old until, up a few weeks ago. They tested my blood a lot and sometimes shot things into my arm, but they never really hurt me.”

Utterly stunned, I just stared at him for a couple minutes. “...What? How are you okay with that?”

“Just watch!” Slowly, he brought his hands close together, leaving them open with a small circle between them, slowly condensing the air between them and changing it into a shimmering ice ball. “Not too bad, huh!? They helped me get better at it!”

“Yeah, that was actually really impressive,” I weakly chuckled, gazing in awe at the orb F began tossing around. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.” After a moment though, my mind drifted back to the more serious issue of him being a prisoner. “Are you sure you’re okay though?”

“Yeah I am, and I bet you’ll be seeing a lot more of this soon!” He laughed back, passing it to me, “So, what’s y-” A violent, blaring alarm cut him off as his neck shot around to the source. Just over a door, the number ‘6’ was lit up like a christmas decoration. “Well that’s me! I’ll introduce you to James when we’re both all set! He’s a good guy, metal morpher as he calls it! Real nice, you’ll like him!” We waved as he bolted off to his door, but just as I was about to lean against a wall the noise blasted again, only this time, it was my door, eight. Sighing, I rolled my shoulder as I started making my way towards it, eventually placing my hand on the handle and shoving it open.

“Here goes nothing.”

Not even going to lie, I was expecting something much more climactic to be waiting for me. No blaring light, ominous creek, no blood stained floor. The well oiled piece of steel just led to a bland grey room, or rather a glass chamber inside it. Truthfully, I could probably break it with a couple swings of my blowguns, but it really wasn’t something worth testing. Across from me, I could see a man with bright yellow spiked hair standing a solid foot above his head, and glaring amber eyes staring directly into mine. His lanky body was swaying like a snake, but his feet never moved, almost like they were ironed down. It looked like he was unarmed, which meant that if I was right, he’d probably have some surprize waiting for me. Finally taking my eyes off him, I saw the last thing worth seeing. Two men with a woman between them, looking in through a glass window, each with a clipboard.

Taking a step forward, the tired eyed man on the left grabbed a microphone, and after tapping it a few times, spoke to us over the loudspeakers. “Stretch?” He could not have sounded more bored, but upon hearing his ring name, the man across from me gave a long, wicked smile. “Hollywood?” I stand corrected. Apparently he could. In reply, I gave him a salute, “You may begin, good luck, one of you are about to start a journey of fame and fortune.” Geez, at least pretend you believe in your company.

Signaling to the people behind him, the woman pulled a remote control from her purse before pressing one of the only two buttons on it, a giant, bright red circle. Almost too quiet to notice, I heard several small clicks around me go off until my cage suddenly plummeted down like a body tied to a boulder in a river. Truthfully, it took me entirely by surprize, actually jumping back from the start, slamming my back up against the door as a harsh swear slipped between my lips.

“Welcome to the real world Movie Ssstar...” Held in a hiss, Stretch’s amber eyes popped as he suddenly ended the word while he twisted forward. It was however, at the exposure of his fangs from his agape mouth that send the chill down my spine, coating my skin in goosebumps. “Haha, oh you like that, don’t you,” He mocked openly, swiftly closing the distance between us while I finally pushed myself back off the wall, placing my right hand on my left pipe while my free arm rose above my chest. “Oh, you think a metal stick can protect you?”

“I think it can drop you like a rock.” For a moment, I held a straight face, intensity flaring in my eyes, but I suddenly flashed a smile, “And I’ve got some surprises in store.”

“But mine are better!” Still about twenty feet from me, my skinny foe launched a jab, his skin becoming rubber as it stretched the entire distance between us, grabbing me by the collar as my shocked body was far too stunned to do anything more than flinch. “See?” Still for a moment, his arm suddenly pulled me back to him, like a rubberband backfiring. Air rushing through my eye holes brought them to water, but just as we were about to collide, he suddenly