Power Level: 2,976
Weighted Power Level: 2,232

While Octavia, and everyone else in the crowd, waited for the next fight, the staff cleared out the pit. One fighter swaggering out confidently, the other dragged away unconscious. The sands of the pit were stirred up to cover up the blood, and fresh sand was poured in to freshen up the pit. There was a brief 10 minute intermission that allowed people to get more refreshments, food, and most importantly... place more bets before the next match...

Two men approached the railing by Octavia, not close enough to engage her, as she was not their focus, but close enough that she could hear the conversation they weren't trying to hide. One man was tall and haughty, he exuded money and confidence, the same exact upper-class narcissist that Octavia had just been deriding. He looked down at the pits with a sharp, eagle-eyed gaze, over a hooked nose equally aquiline. The other man at his elbow seemed to be a smaller animal-kin, a dog like being to be exact. He had pince-nez style spectacles clinched on his muzzle.

"I'm glad that's over with," the eagle-eyed man said, "Maybe there'll be a good fight on this time."

"I did see them bringing out the cage," the dog-man said picking up his master's taste of vicarious violence.

"Might be something interesting," the first man said.

Down on the pit floor, staff of the event were helping bolt together the walls of a large metal cage. Off to the side another staff member was operating a strange machine that he was attaching to the cage. Regulars of different pit fighting venues recognized it as a reinforcer that made the iron bars of the cage reinforced with an artificial like ki, to protect the crowd from the stronger combatants for whom metal would be no issue to tear through like tissue paper.

"Any idea what this is about?" eagle-eye asked.

The dog man looked down at what seemed like a pamphlet/flier that had information about the various fights scheduled for the day. He adjusted his glasses and glanced down at it, "If they're bringing out the cage at this time of day," he said, "It's probably Selleri."

"Selleri?"

"I think you'll like him," the dog man said, "He usually fights in escape-the-cage-matches, which don't end until one fighter leaves the cage. He's a saiyan that likes to toy with his opponents before he leaves."

"Sounds fun," eagle eye smirked, "Why haven't I heard of him before?"

"He doesn't appear very often," the dog man explained, "As you might imagine, they have trouble finding people willing to go up against him. They tried forcing people for a while, but that didn't make for interesting fights..."

"So, this is should be a good one..."

After the intermission was over and people had filed back into the audience and an announcer walked into view, voice projecting from various speakers in the rafters as he spoke into a microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer proclaimed, " Today we have a very special match. As you may have very well surmised from the cage behind me, we will have the pleasure of welcoming a favorite back to the arena. Please join me in welcoming the savage, all-consuming, Selleri!!!"

A man who was tall and lithe. He did no bare the iconic saiyan tail, but he still had the other trade marks of his race. He had a shock of black hair dyed with streaks of red and yellow. He wore only a pair of red silk pants with a yellow flame motif and had his muscled chest bared. His hands, leisurely at his side, were wreathed in flame-like ribbons of ki that danced up his arms as he strutted through the open door of the cage.

"Selleri, ladies and gentlemen!"

Selleri held up an arm to acknowledge the crowd, which was large for the time of day. Word of the match0up had clearly gotten around. The announcer waited for the audience to quiet down before his next introduction.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer said, "For those true aficionados among you, we have some one who you may be familiar with. She's a fighter known by different names in different arenas. She was last known by the name..." here the announcer paused and had a derisive little smirk, "Miss Fortress of the Wentz Pits."

There was a twitter of laughter and a few catcalls before the announcer raised a hand up and gestured for people to settle down, "Don't let that ridiculous moniker fool you. Her skills are the real deal. She's chosen to forgo any cute little titles, instead choosing to come to us as she is... ANASTASIA!!"

A woman with dark hair dressed in a simple black crop-top with a high collar and no sleeves marched into the cage without so much as a glance at the crowd. She strode straight to the middle of the pit with no hesitation and stood before Selleri, straight backed and not so much as proud... as quietly confident.

"I've always wanted to fight you," Selleri said to Ana as they faced one another in the cage, "I wanted to see which would win out. My offense or your defense..."

Ana knew what he was doing. The audience liked some banter before a match. Not that the crowds around the cage would really be able to hear them over the roar, but the specialized microphones directed inside the pit would pick up and project their words over the speakers. Selleri wanted to give everyone a show, living off the attention and accolades he got from his victories. Ana didn't care at all for such things. She was here to win a match, and get paid. No more. No less.

"Nothing to say, pretty?" Selleri grinned and gave Anastasia a look over, "We have some time together, once I put you on the ground. I bet I can get you to scream my name before I leave the cage."

"I was just going to beat you," Anastasia murmured, the microphones almost unable to pick up her quiet voice, but the dangerous promise in her words were clear, "Now I am going to hurt you."

Selleri threw his head back and laughed, showing her and the entire audience what he thought of her proclamation. He lunged forward mid-laugh, attempting to catch Anastasia off guard with his sudden advance. He lead with a straight punch, burning with his ki around it. Ana stepped aside the punch and grabbed him by the wrist. The fire of his ki seared into her hand but she ignored the pain, yanking his arm and forcing his balance onto his forwards leg. He yelled out in pain as her palm smashed into his elbow, trying to bend his his arm the wrong way. The yell became a scream as her boot tried the same on the other side of his knee. He collapsed to the ground, where a swinging leg smashed him in the face. Disoriented, he rolled with the blow, trying to scramble to his feet. Halfway up he found a hand on either side of his head, pulling it down into a rising knee.

Selleri was dazed, blood pouring from his broken nose. Ana looked up at the crowd howling for more blood, her eyes travelled to a shadowed area, a private box. There was a long moment, a risky endeavor in the middle of a fight, but Ana didn't seem concerned. She dragged Selleri to the side of the cage by his throat, her eyes not looking from the private box.

The cage had both vertical and horizontal bars, like a mesh, with gaps barely large enough to fit a hand or part of a foot. That was to slow down climbing, so a downed opponent had some time to recover and prevent an escape. Anastasia hoisted Selleri up, forcing his hands through a pair of the small gaps before dropping him again. He was left dangling by the wrists as they caught on the bars. She raised an elbow and smashed it down on one of his forearms, producing a loud crack and a horrifying shriek of pain. She did the same to the other arm, then left him hanging as she climbed out of the cage.

There was a moment of stunned silence... but only a moment before the crowd roared in approval. They came to the pits to see the brutal violence that they wouldn't find in the more legitimate martial arts tournaments. This kind of savagery was exactly what they wanted. What they craved. Anastasia might not be the show boating performer like Selleri had tried to be. But she was a fighter of brutal efficiency. A killer. She stayed her hand this time, but only because she could.

For Ana, actions spoke louder than words. In this match she made her message loud and clear. To who in particular that message was for wasn't clear. To the crowd, telling them that she was a competitor to watch? To her opponents to not underestimate her? Or perhaps to whomever she knew was watching her from the private box...

"Anastasia everyone!" The announcer roared even as the said victor walked off the pit floor and to the back rooms of the fighting pits. Anastasia travelled to the back room areas that staff and fighters utilized to run the operation. She was going to go get some water, and then find out what her next match would be and when, and maybe collect her payment...

Word Count: 1,595