"A wins a win. Thought you knew something about fighting dirty." They both seem to be on the same page about that at least. Though there's definitely something telling about the fact Kabal hadn't just sliced his head off and been done with it once Len passed out. He may fight dirty, but he wants an actual fight.
"That one," He jerks his thumb to a closet against one of the walls, "Enjoy swimming in my pants."
The closet has a few pairs of pants stuffed into shelves, underwear, socks, a pile of leather harnesses, another respirator, and the only item actually hanging off a hanger is a different mask, one that's only half as big and inset with sharp, too large teeth. Everything is going to be huge when compared to Len's much smaller frame, but there is a belt in there (also likely too big), that has some knives hanging off it. There's not a single shirt to be found in his whole room.
Well there was one he wore when it was actually cold enough to freeze what's left of his nips off, but he hated it and tossed it who knows where after he got back in his room. Kabal has always run hot, ironic for someone who ended up getting set on fire, but the cold never bothered him, and shirts always seemed pointless.
As for the rest of the room, if Len wants to poke around while Kabal lays on the bed and tries to fight a losing battle with himself over getting up and pretending he's fine, there's plenty for him to play with. The cupboards are mostly empty, just whatever was in there when he claimed this room as his own: dishes, cups, some cooking device he couldn't use if his life depended on it (it's a rice cooker), and some bags of chips and crackers and junk that he salvaged from the Whole Foods a while ago.
The fridge is beer and alcohol and random bits of food from things Cho makes during the day. Convenient that someone has taken it upon themselves to feed him, because otherwise he would be making life in the dining hall absolute hell.
Other closets have a rack that is obviously meant for his swords, some sharpeners, oil and maintenance things for his weapons, along with a small toolkit for his respirator and mask. Len's gun is in there, stashed for safe keeping.
But the good shit is just all over the place: there's jewelry from presents he'd opened in a pile on the counter, some very high tech looking tablets sitting next to what looks like a flashlight barrel without the light part, knives, gun parts, computer chips, more alcohol.
If it wasn't nailed down and it looked at all valuable, Kabal took it. And after being here half a year he still hasn't quite realized that he can't actually sell any of this stuff, and that there's no currency anyway. Old habits die hard.
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"That one," He jerks his thumb to a closet against one of the walls, "Enjoy swimming in my pants."
The closet has a few pairs of pants stuffed into shelves, underwear, socks, a pile of leather harnesses, another respirator, and the only item actually hanging off a hanger is a different mask, one that's only half as big and inset with sharp, too large teeth. Everything is going to be huge when compared to Len's much smaller frame, but there is a belt in there (also likely too big), that has some knives hanging off it. There's not a single shirt to be found in his whole room.
Well there was one he wore when it was actually cold enough to freeze what's left of his nips off, but he hated it and tossed it who knows where after he got back in his room. Kabal has always run hot, ironic for someone who ended up getting set on fire, but the cold never bothered him, and shirts always seemed pointless.
As for the rest of the room, if Len wants to poke around while Kabal lays on the bed and tries to fight a losing battle with himself over getting up and pretending he's fine, there's plenty for him to play with. The cupboards are mostly empty, just whatever was in there when he claimed this room as his own: dishes, cups, some cooking device he couldn't use if his life depended on it (it's a rice cooker), and some bags of chips and crackers and junk that he salvaged from the Whole Foods a while ago.
The fridge is beer and alcohol and random bits of food from things Cho makes during the day. Convenient that someone has taken it upon themselves to feed him, because otherwise he would be making life in the dining hall absolute hell.
Other closets have a rack that is obviously meant for his swords, some sharpeners, oil and maintenance things for his weapons, along with a small toolkit for his respirator and mask. Len's gun is in there, stashed for safe keeping.
But the good shit is just all over the place: there's jewelry from presents he'd opened in a pile on the counter, some very high tech looking tablets sitting next to what looks like a flashlight barrel without the light part, knives, gun parts, computer chips, more alcohol.
If it wasn't nailed down and it looked at all valuable, Kabal took it. And after being here half a year he still hasn't quite realized that he can't actually sell any of this stuff, and that there's no currency anyway. Old habits die hard.