He moves around the edges of the crowd. Knows how to keep his head down, to slip among the figures watching the fights and pressing in closer for a better view. The noise rises in a vibrant hum that catches under the skin, spiking in cheers when a particularly vicious blow is landed.

Jacob's got himself handled. He's having a good time, and Charles isn't here to get in the way of that. But he's here if needed, always. And it's not unheard of for someone to be 'tagged in' to the match.

Guess it depends on who's coming out to face him next, and Charles settles in near the edge of the ring, arms folded, content to watch...for now.