OBP/Toro

Though Isaac didn't remember falling down, he stood up quickly and began stumbling around before he could see anything.

"Kent, what the hell!? Are you trying to blind us!?" He yelled as his nose- well, snout -bumped into solid iron bars where he thought he saw empty space.

"Shut it!" A voice called back to him from nearby, not one he recognized though, and it was joined by a small chorus of groans and yells from further off.

When Isaac heard this and realized something was wrong he stood still waiting for everything to clear up. As he calmed he realized that he felt big. Really big. And thick, and heavy, and all the other descriptors pertaining to someone who suddenly found themselves looking through the eyes- or trying to at least -of a veritable giant.

As his vision did clear he found himself in what looked like a jail cell. A grid of iron bars to the front and at either side, a windowless wall behind. The floor was stonework, as well as the wall. On one side a bed of straw and cloth and a rolled linen pillow had been laid on a flat portion of the floor, and in a corner sat a large bucket, well really the bottom half of a small barrel. The whole place smelled terrible, and he realized part of this was coming from his bucket.

His surroundings and the fact that he was imprisoned for some reason distracted him momentarily, but eventually he did notice some things wrong about himself aside from his size. Namely, the two horns growing out of either side of his head, the fact that he could see more of his face now than he used to be able to, and as well the fact that the things he was standing on weren't feet, they were in fact hooves. This all came as quite a shock to him, but immediately he made the connection and realized that he had somehow become his character, Mata del Toro. Though the reason he was in some kind of prison still eluded him.

He shook and pounded on the door to his cell, drawing more yells from what he assumed were other prisoners and another "I said shut it!" from a cell near his.

"Guard!" He yelled, though one was already on his way, "hey! Why am I in here?" He said, sounding a little angrier than he intended perhaps, though probably not without warrant.

The guard laughed, "you don't honestly expect me to believe you forgot! You've only been here 2 years already! Now settle down! You may be a good fighter, but keep up that temper of yours outside the ring and we'll have you gelded and put to hard labor by the end of the day! Now you wouldn't want that when your freedom is right around the corner, eh?"

"Uh, no sir. Sorry, sir."

The guard walked away and Isaac remembered that he put in his character's backstory that not long before the game was set to begin he had been enslaved as a gladiator and had just recently won his freedom.

He took a seat on the bedding. The threat of gelding had him more than a little frightened, he had to admit, and just a little curious. He turned towards the wall and lowered the burlap slacks they had him wearing. A little coaxing and... great glory that looks big even compared to the rest of him! Though a touch more horse-like than he expected. He was half tempted to leave his pants off just to show off, but he decided against it.

• Burlap Slacks