“My name is Anna, silly, you must listen more carefully.” Her timid smile disarmed the insult in her comment. Xaih already intrigued her up close. She hadn’t expected such a seemingly kind welcome from a relative stranger, though it had been a long time since Anna had anything resembling normal discourse with another person. Perhaps she had simply grown bitter and cynical through forced isolation. She fixed the girl with serious eyes. “I think we may have a little in common, perhaps, but secrets, secrets. Would you sit with me in the corner over there?” Anna was not overly shrewd; however, this room was full of her mentee’s enemies, and paranoia was something she had in abundance.

If the girl was willing to walk away from the main huddle and sit next to Anna, she would ask her a question.

“Tell me Xaih, are you afraid?”

@Xaih

"...yes, you did say that," Xaih spoke with a sheepish smile. Brilliant communication! Her thoughts were with great sarcasm, but she refused to dwell on the embarrassment for long. Anna's tone changed to a more serious one, and her smile faded to resemble a similar tone. She questioned to move to the corner to perhaps discuss future events in private, away from the brutes who occupied the room. She nodded and followed Anna to their destination, to then sit beside her. The secrets would be shared later, perhaps.

Then came a question, perhaps a bit loaded for Xaih. Was she afraid? And what was she afraid of? There was always the fear of failure looming over her every so often, reminding her of its presence, but she assumed it was natural, universal to people, rather. Her opponents didn't worry her in this sense. She would do her best with what she had and what they would eventually throw her way. It was her way of life, after all. Prepare for what you can control, and expect what you cannot.

After a moment, she would finally answer. "I'm anticipating the moment," she said, fixing her eyes back to the other fighters. "I'm not afraid to lose, or to lose my life to them. Death seems..." she trailed off, her thoughts entering a personal territory she felt Anna might not want to know. She turned her gaze back to her and repeated with a quiet chuckle, "Well, I'm anticipating the moment." Quickly, she questioned, "Why do you ask?" She never believed fear to be an absence of courage, or wrong to have, and she hoped there was a mutual respect in that regard.

@MelonHead

-

Anna leaned her head in uncomfortably close to Xaih, she smelled faintly of sea-salt, and damp.

“I ask because you should be afraid, Xaih. Fear isn’t just a tool to be used against people, it’s something we all have inside ourselves, use it.” The strange mentor gave the room a quick glance. “Be afraid to die, be afraid of what these people can do, the moment you are certain of anything is the moment you will lose. There are worse things than death, but not many.” Anna’s look was far away, staring right through the girl she spoke with. “Let them be brash and confident in their abilities, and then remind them that life is cruel but you’ll do anything to keep it.” It was odd advice, but perhaps that was simply the only sort of advice one such as Anna could give.

“And remember, water gives life, but in an instant, it may take it.” She raised one eyebrow, and then patted the girl’s arm. Her fingers were cold to the touch.

@Xaih

Once Liaison was satisfied that his message had been conveyed to all those present, he turned his attention to the modified radar like devices that were scattered along the pristine surfaces of the viewing room. Using both magic and technology, some of which from both classes were restricted to only the highest of members of society, the radars had been altered to detect a truly astonishing amount of transportation methods. Once travellers passed a certain threshold en route to the Lobby, his sensors picked them up - ensuring a issue free entry into the establishment.

As it were, a bevy of visitors were approaching at a rapid pace, with the closest appearing behind him in a masterfully designed suit of medieval armor, but just beneath the surface it was anything but. Welcome, King Averdue, Liaison offered, and was duly met with a Curt nod of a helmed head. The King had seen little of note in the infamous middleman, choosing to decline many of his services in favor of sword, shield, and fey magic. More arrived in toe, including leaders of many burgeoning universes, where might and magic were equally opposed by other world's metal monstrosities.

With all the players in place, Liaison tapped the end of his cane on the ground, a nonchalant action that betrayed no visible actions - but just on the other side of a mirrored wall, a lock released itself. Behind which, a man in a bone mask stood - heavily breathing. Liaison knew the turmoil of the creature behind the mirror, a humiliation most befitting of the man whose life had been dedicated once to ending his own.

A worker brought him his dossiers once more, and once more, his voice blared through his multitude of speakers.

Finally, the time has come to announce the matches that will take place first. He flicked his eyes to the papers. Xiah shall face Dorian; Sutemasu shall face Vallen, while the final two, Rindheart and Pumpkin shall do battle. There was little amusement in the fact that a mouse had been entered into the tournament, but he was not one to question his benefactors. He already had his teleporters set to the specific battlegrounds that would be employed, designed to take advantage of their specific magical talents. Everything in them would be tested, if they fancied themselves the victors - a feat that many often regretted.

Turning back to the elongated table at the bets that were placed, King Averdue had wagered his entire world's martial ability on the man known as Sutemasu would win the tournament in dominant fashion. Interesting.

He winked out of place for just a moment, and appeared at the head of the table, judging the reactions to the match listing. Perhaps it was a good idea that he hosted this. The favors he would rack up would certainly come in handy.

Anna's sudden closeness caused Xaih to instinctively move her head back, although she still listened, which may have been a mistake. She didn't try to hide her sour expression as Anna lectured her to embrace the fear.

Yet, Anna was right. Xaih knew through her stubbornness, and at that moment her expression softened. With a sigh, she folded her arms, just before she was given, in Xaih's opinion, a bit of fairer advice. Water gives life, but in an instant, it may take it. She pondered on what could be accomplished, and briefly glanced over at her opponents. Anna's icy touch, met with an abnormal amount of heat if she could feel, is what caused Xaih to look back at her. "Thank you." She spoke with an air of humility.

Within the next moment, the same man's voice spoke to the room, at last announcing the first round of the tournament. She stood once her name was announced, feeling a jolt from her nerves enter her stomach from the moment, but it felt satisfying.

Dorian stood up once his name was announced, just like the woman he'd spoken to earlier had. He looked over at her, a grin breaking out on his face once more. Well didn't that just work out perfectly.

"Now ain't this interesting," Dorian commented heartily, "I'm assuming you're Xaih then, right? Unless you're Pumpkin, in that case, lovely name you got there." He laughed a bit at his own bad joke, though he actually had no idea who the hell Pumpkin was. He didn't see a sixth fighter anywhere in that room. "I've gotta say, it's fitting that we'll be each other's first match," he continued, "I was looking forward to seeing what you were capable of, but now I get take a shot at you before the others do. Ha, lucky me." He looked down at Timber and nodded, letting her know that it was just about time to let loose. He then looked back up at Xaih, still flashing that smile of his.

"Let's hope you're good enough to give me more than what I bargained for," he told her as he extended a hand out to shake as a sign of friendly competition, "It's been a helluva long time since I've lost a fight."

Rindheart turned to face one of the noise emitting objects as it announced the matches. He was facing... Pumpkin. Was that the gypsy? Eh for all he knew it could be the old man, no point worrying about it. The only point that was odd was that 6 names had been spoken but he only saw 5 combatants including himself. Unless perhaps one those he had deemed non-combatants were in fact participants? Whatever, it made no real difference, his strategy would unfold as soon as he hit the battlefield. Rindheart ran his fingers lightly over his equipment, making sure everything was in its proper place. Time to see about winning this thing, one step at a time. Pumpkin. Rindheart snorted disdainfully at the name and waited for further instructions as he waited in his chair.

Nothing had stirred the monk. No boisterous vocal attitude, clandestine watery welcome or even loud solemn declaration. None of it. In fact it was not until the end of the announcement did he finally move. He stood up, without a word or concern he carried himself in silence with purposeful swift strides as he stepped toward and into the teleportation device.
There was a bright flash and then he was gone.

-

Sutemasu heard the call outs and listened intently, before seeing everyone else step off to the teleporters. Hm, they were in such a hurry to meet their deaths. He shook his head, and turned to the bartender once more. “One more,” he said, “for the road.” The bartender complied quickly, though with a slight shake of his head, seemingly disproving of the notion of drinking before a fight. Again, Sutemasu slammed the drink down, before placing it back on the countertop. “Thanks, friend,” he remarked before walking off to the teleporters and stepped into one, before disappearing from sight.

No God, dead or alive, could save him now.

The teleportation device in the lobby began to whirl once again as glowing, growing lights began to excitedly swirl around within it. In a bright flash they all came together and a shadowed silhouette of a warrior appeared, forming right in the middle. As the concealing light soon faded, it settled and gave way to Vallen the monk as he stepped out of the machine.

Resuming his purposeful yet paced stride the monk returns to his earlier spot. The movements of his short journey giving no inclination to the battle he supposedly just had. His breath was not exhausted, he walked without limitation or limp, his skin wore no bruise or scratches and no amount of blood could be seen on him.

But one action and one action alone spoke loudly of the truth in opposition to all other indicators.
He dragged the pointy blade of a sai across an unravelled sleeve, leaving behind a thin streak of blood. Soon after his weapon vanished up said sleeve ashe rolled it back in place.

Resuming his meditative seat, Vallen remained silent, patient and humble while he awaited further instructions.

Rindheart stepped through another portal back into the lobby, somewhat frazzled by the heat and his strange fight but none the worse of wear. It looked like the monk had made it back as well, though there were no other competitors. Rindheart glanced at the bloodied sleeve, "Looks like you've got a bit of bite even if ya've got no bark. We'll see how long that continues for ya mute man." Rindheart said, not really expecting an answer as he took a drink of something he'd snatched from the bar.