Ambrielle stood in front of the mirror, her bare back facing it with her head turned to look at the reflection of the intricate design of the magic marking. The marking upon her back, the one she had been blessed with from birth, the one which she was unaware about its uniqueness until after the first gym class of her third grade, the same marking that she had only come to appreciate seven years ago. She had met her first true friend on that day: Leite, her summon. Up until then she only had maintained cordial friendships, in her mind she had been nothing more than just another unnoticed person. She gently traced the design upon her back with her extended index finger, the tip pressing softly against it, making her shiver from the feel of her cold hand against her warm back. Ambrielle admired the beauty and power of it, the design that accounted for everything and placed them together in harmony, and the raw magickal power it slightly exuded, the Arcana magick.
"Are you just going to stand there and admire something that will always be there?" Her summon Leite, whom she had forgotten was in the room spoke, with a tone that masked the impatience he was feeling. His words however, made his impatience blatant as well as his actions, he kept slithering around.
At the sound of his voice, her finger stopped in place, and she slowly pulled it back from over her head, and put on the purple dress. "Oh yes, because we're in such a rush." Her words had the slightest tinge of sarcasm upon them, enough for Leite to pick up on.
"We will be if you don't hurry up, and I don't want to be late for our fight."
Ambrielle sighed, he was right. She decided she wanted to try a different look for the tournament, so she reached into her drawer and pulled out a hair curler, and began to... curl her hair. The auburn locks of hair fell around the sides of her head and the back, the latter of which reached up to her forearms. She smiled and flicked one of them, giggling faintly as it returned, and she began to twirl it a bit, a habit of hers that automatically happened when she was thinking quite a bit or was transitioning into it. She looked herself over, twirling the lock of hair and adjusting her purple dress. Afterwards, she pulled out some makeup, and applied only the slightest trace upon her face; she never really had much of a liking for it. She preferred brains over beauty, the latter of which she had what she deemed good enough of, yet the former she had plenty.
All that was left was to wait for the person to come and escort her to the arena, since she could not go there on her own, considering she was being forced to wear a mask. It irked her to have to wear this mask, albeit the effect of mysteriousness added to the entire tournament, which she quite approved of. What she didn’t approve of, however, was not having the slightest idea as to who her adversary would be, what they would be capable of, and what she should do. All her life, she had relied on information which she constantly used to formulate plans, to predict the outcome and to get ahead. This mask would be but an ornament and a hindrance, neither of which she particularly cared for.
“I wonder what this will look like on me…” She mused, holding the half mask up, her index finger and thumb rubbing the dark blue silk, squeezing the few purple gems that were on it.
“You’ll know if you put it on.” Leite had continued to wait, slithering around even more now.
She chuckled and shook her head, lowering the mask onto the table, deciding not to put it on until it was time to leave for the match. “Yes, I can totally see what I look like with my eyes covered.”