The sound of a toungue clicking against teeth: frustration. A pause. Follow up - fingers tap tap tapping against a panel of some sort. One two, three four five, one two three four, five, onetwothreefourfive, one.

"On the contrary, Smokeless Jade Fires, you are the one who arrived too late. However true your claim might have been on another day, it is utterly unacceptable now. The wish that I will claim by winning this stupid tournament is so far beyond your ability to compensate me for that the weight of it would crush you to death. Beyond even that I have made a promise to Marcina Villajero, and beyond even that Solarel lies waiting. No, Goddess. To lose a single match with her soul still in danger would be the pinnacle of shame. I must not. Can not. Will not."

The Gods-Smiting Whip stands still, taking in its own reflection in the mirrored glass. Inefficient in the extreme to hunt out the idol of Smokeless Jade Fires in this dense Terenian temple structure. The height of these pillars made her "standard" opening play in this tournament non-viable. Possible that this environmental selection was meant as a penalty for her specifically, then, rather than its apparent status as an equ... ali... zing.

Force. Ah. Well. A new mystery to occupy space inside her mind. How... unideal.

Simplicity, then. Protest. She might spend hours stalking Smokeless Jade Fires and Dala Hunters. Or she could test the sharpness of this new blade. Left foot forward, plant, fourty five degree. Arm straight, draw back. Flick joystick, first form sequence basic macro initiate. She meets more resistance than she expects and almost bounces off the building like a scolded child, but with a flare of thruster fire she achieves the necessary force for edge to defeat engineering.

But is a shallow cut in the end. Matty had not gifted her a blade large enough to slay these titanic spires. Which was, of course, Mirror's fault in the first place. Her tails flare up above and to either side of her in a simple triangle formation. The rain of laser fire does what simple technique could not. The building topples with a hideous screech of rending glass and shearing girders that crashes so loud and so obviously that pilots three arenas over will have her coordinates pinpointed.

If the sight of the skyline suddenly altering didn't manage it, the giant plume of dust certainly would. She stands still once more. Sword held at the ready, and three tails floating lazily behind her.

"In the interest of disclosure, your offer of a game is likewise rejected. There are no prizes I would claim from you beyond the services you already owe me as payment for our previous dance. I take no pleasure from needing to fight you, and you are the wrong sort of food to prepare my Nine-Tails for conflict with the [i]Aetiline.[/i] I would ask you not insult me by engaging me in the manner of your lovesick conquests. I am not a mountain you may climb to prove your divinity, and I do not fit inside your domain."