Enter the bloodsport

The stallion gave a light snicker. "Well, in fairness, I also walked out here. I don't live here, y'know." He held up his hands in mock surrender. "But I take your meaning. So I'll tell you what." He said as he relaxed completely, no longer in a fighting pose.

He looked the mare in the eye, and sat down, resting his head on his hand, giving the mare a bored look. "I also expected a good fight. Or, a good fighter, anyway. So, how about this? I'll hit you. But only after you hit me."

The mare seems to be angry about the proposals. "I Don't take freebies. Either get up, or I'll put actual effort in this fight, And You'll not like that." The Mare said grasping her metal arm with her left hand.

The drunk gave the mare an incredulous look. "'I'll put actual effort'? Well, aren't you... Well, intimidating isn't the word I'd use." The drunk said, still resting his head on his hand. "Childish maybe. Dunno. I'm not a dictionary." He said with a sigh.

He then gave an overexxagerated yawn, followed by him wiping his eyes, like he was tired. "I'd hope you put in some kinda effort." He said, through another yawn. "I mean, I'd hope you didn't wake me up for this." He said, motioning to the mare.

The mare sigh annoyed. "Am I the only one in this building that not a full blow idiot?" 
She dashed at high speed And aimed for low left back fist to the side of the fighter's face with her metal arm, swinging left to right.

The drunk mumbled to himself about the rudeness of the mare, before squatting forward slightly as the mare dashed. Just before she swung out at him, he slid forward, going between the mares legs, before launching himself into a frontward somersault to put distance between him and the mare.

Upon landing, he clapped twice, sarcastically. He did not turn around before doing so, however; he didn't turn around at all, he just kept his back to the mare, as he began to speak.

"Good effort. Gotta be a little quicker, though. Think you can manage?" He said, finally turning around. If the mare was observant, she'd notice that he was looking a bit less relaxed. Not tense, but more observant, and cautious.

The mare pivoted on her left leg and using the momentum from the swing. Spun around and dashed forward at the fighter slightly faster than her original dash. "If you want speed. All you need to do was ask, just don't cry when you can't keep up." The mare said mockingly as she swings her metal arm with a hammer fist, to the fighter's chest.

The drunk raised an eyebrow at the mares taunt, before getting into his loose fighting pose, preparing himself for the mares attack. When it came, he sidestepped slightly to her open side, and stuck out his hands to catch her arm on both sides; the top and bottom. Instead of stopping it, however, he attempted to use her momentum against her and throw her forward, where he was initially standing. He also stuck his foot out to assist him, by tripping her.

The mare smirked. The arm made a small *click* noise and just slip right off Leaving the drunk with a very heavy metal arm. The mare did trip but she just tucked into the roll and jumped to her feet. Looking at the mare would show that her right arm is completely bandaged from her shoulder to the tips of her fingers. "Now with my heavy handcap off. how about you drop the arm and start this fight, It about to get a lot more entertaining." She taunted as she rolled her shoulders, And getting forward stance.

The drunk dropped the arm slightly, as a result of a heavy object suddenly being in his hands, before stabilizing. He looked at the arm, then at the mare; specifically her now uncovered arm. After a minute, he looked the mare in the eyes, and gave her a pleased smile.

"And here I thought you didn't have any tricks." He said, tossing the arm away from him. It hit the ground with a loud thud, which he, upon hearing it, cut his eyes to it, then back to the mare again. "I'm guessing you'll be faster now. Hopefully, anyway." He said with a shrug. "Fine. But just so you know, if we're gonna be dancing around each other..." he started, casually walking to where he was sleeping, where he found his drinking gourd. He picked it up, and did a toasting motion in the mares direction. "... I'll need to be a lot more drunk than this." He said, before chugging the contents of gourd, determined to get every drop of his drink from it.

The mare dashed to the fighter, and he was right about being her being faster, a lot faster. when she was in range she went for a right shovel hook punch to the side of his face.

The drunk saw the mare coming out of the corner of his eyes, but didn't stop drinking until she was right on top of him. When she threw her punch, he stopped drinking, and, with the arm with the gourd, pushed down on the inside of the mares elbow, while using his other hand to push her forearm towards her. He then took a step back, pulling the mare forward, before then hooking his back leg around her front one, pulling it back, removing his arm from the mares elbow, and attempting to push the mare backwards.

The mare was pushed backwards and due to the hooked leg tripped backwards. When she fell backwards, she catches herself with her arms, before she could hit her head. She then went for a kick in the fighter's guts

The drunk stepped to the side slightly, and grabbed the mares leg as she kicked. He raised an eyebrow at the mare, as if to tell her that he wasn't impressed, before pulling her towards him with her leg, while kicking out at her stomach.

The mare did not react to being grabbed by the leg. However, she did smirk when she was pulled in.
She used her left hand to grab the kicking leg before it could hit her in the stomach. she then went to hit the side of the fighter's face with her bandage forearm.

The drunk was caught off guard by the mare, as he thought that she wouldn't switch up her attacks with any real counters, and thus didn't react until her arm collided with his head.

He dropped the mares leg as he spun around from her attack. He attempted to steady himself, but failed as he stumbled forward, holding his head as he did so.

The mare rolled away from the fighter and stood up. "Come on mate, that was notin." She taunted as she charged  at the fighter again for a left hook to his face.

The drunk, his back turned to the mare from being spun around, made no indication that he was aware of the mare's attack. He stumbled forward a bit before she swung, apparently reeling from her hit even still. However, when she swung, he did dodge it by bending over backwards, to where he was below the hook.

He then struck his hand out at the mares torso, aiming directly for her stomach. While such a position normally wouldn't allow for much power in strikes, his did manage to have a good amount of force in it. It also wasn't a punch, instead being a palm strike.

Following the strike, he spun himself around so that he was upright, and facing her. He then leaned backwards while kicking outward with his entire body weight, again at the mare's stomach.

The palm stick hit it marked on the mare's stomach. 
Leaning over in pain she saw the leg lean back for a kick. Before the kick cold swing, the mare threw herself to the side away from the fighter. She then grasps the area she was hit.
"Could you not try to make me throw my lunch?" She mutters to the fighter.
She does seem hurt from the attack.

The stallion falls backwards into a handstand, then onto his feet from there. He then raises his eyebrow at the mare's comment.

"Hmm... Well." he says, shrugging. "I make no promises, but you just reminded me that I haven't eaten breakfast. Or lunch."

He then gets into a fighting stance; a different one from before. It remains loose, but now his hands are lower, cupped, and bent towards him; almost as if he was holding a drink in both hands. He also now stumbles back and forth slightly.

"Oh well. After this, I'll get something." He now is more talking to himself than to the mare. He motions for the mare to come at him, saying under his breath, but loud enough to hear, "A nice victory lunch".

The mare dash towards the brawler winding up her left fist to punch him in the guts. While haveing her right arm hang more lazily to her side.
"Not polite to mutter under your breath."

The drunk raises an eyebrow at the mare's comment. "Well", he says while leaning backwards to fall over, "so is waking someone up from their nap." He then, while laying on the ground, lifts himself up slightly to kick out at the mares legs with both his feet.

The mare continued to dash and jumped a little. Not over the stallion's legs but, so the kick hit her lower on her legs causing her to more or less caused her to fall over onto the drunck.
With the fist still winded up. She went for a punch to the drunks face as she fell over him.

The drunk's face fell as he saw the mare making her move. He raised his head up slightly, instinctively trying to move out of the way, while also trying to raise his arms up to protect his face. He, however, was not fast enough, and ended up taking the full impact of the punch, with his head snapping back against the ground.

He then moans in pain, and raises his hands to his head, not making any attempt to try to stand up or get the mare off of him.

The mare rolled off the body and rubbed her punching fist.
"On the bright side, i didn't have my metal arm on. cause a metal fist at that power would turn your skull into a bowl." The mare said get up and taking a few step away.
"Ya, done?"

The drunk lays still for a moment, before slowly standing, still holding his head. He looks at the mare briefly, clearly considering his next move, before he sits back down, resuming holding his head.

"Yeah. I'm done." He says, dejectedly. He motions to the set of stairs leading to the next floor. "Go ahead and continue, if you want. I won't get in your way."

"Oh, and don't forget your, uh... Arm." He adds quickly, pointing to it. "You'll probably want to put it back on." He says, ambiguously.