For a baseline human with a pointy metal stick as his weapon, Jaime appears to be faring quite well; in that, he suffers no visible injury save for bandaging that ties around the knuckles of his right hand where something sharp caught it. He turns at the sound of a familiar voice, casting an automatic half-smile to Jack in response. "Such surprise, whenever that observation is made of me," he remarks, moving closer.

He is probably not the oddest sight in the Arena, dressed as he is in his steel plate, a flatter tone of metallic colour than the gaudy gold he'd flashed on the network that one time. It looks heavy and slow in contrast to many, but it helps that he knows how to move in it. It's also something of a character, one he isn't discontent to assume.

"Come to place a bet?"