[url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/771564]Camil Desverte[/url], the Nature Summoner. --- It would be a lie to say that Camil wasn't nervous, despite the way he was sitting with a slightly bored look hanging on his face, head propped against the make-up dresser in front of him with his arm. The room he was guided to couldn't be anything more than plain in his standards, with minimal ways to entertain - or perhaps to distract - him while he was waiting to be called to the stage. In some ways he did expect the waiting rooms to be plain; it was a temporary waiting place unneeded of any special care. What he failed to predict was just how long he would have to stay here. seconds seemed like minutes, and he wasn't allowed to wander around, lest disqualified. Of course he could risk a chance and send [i]them[/i] off to scout, but he decided it wasn't worth the gamble; knowing what the other contestants looked like and what they were doing in their own standby rooms will only be of use to judge their appearance and light personality. He would have every chance to do exactly that during the main event of the day. Camil moved his free hand within his vision. Neon green light particles danced upon his palm, trailing down the length of his white sleeve, some of the lights playing hide-and-seek behind the button gaps on the edge of the sleeve where it meets his wrist. The lights traveled down on the dresser, then flew back up, looping around to his shoulders. His eyes followed this movement with little emotion, though his eyes stopped at the reflection of his handsome face against the mirror. There was everything he wanted to see staring back at him; the sharp, clear eyes, each lash on his eyes straight and even; the hair brushed in unison, leaving not a single strand of hair out of place; and most of all, his skin was seemingly clear of freckles, unwanted hair and damages, much like a living porcelain. It was so perfect that part of him felt like it was such a waste he had to cover it with a [i]mask[/i]. [i]It is just like putting glasses,[/i] he had reasoned with himself earlier. [i]Just like there are people whose appearance are boosted with glasses, this mask will appeal to the audience in its own way.[/i] Camil stood up suddenly, the lights which were resting on his shoulders and the dresser instantly flying up into the air with him. He held the plain white mask in his hands while looking once more at the reflection of his uncovered face. With a careful motion he placed the mask over his face, playing with the material which held it in place. After a small inhaling of breath, he looked at the mirror once more. The mask did compliment his mostly-white attire well, as he had assumed earlier. The black outlines of his suit, as well as the darker clothing under the jacket and vest did leave room for critiques, however it was bearable. He did, however, went down to his luggage next to the dresser. He had co-ordinated and perfected his attire before leaving his place and so he knew there was no room for untidiness but just in case he did bring a limited selection of replacement outfits. It took him almost no time to replace the vermilion tie with a greener one and stood in front of the mirror once again. As if on cue a number of the lights which were hovering in mid-air came to land around the mask like dotted outlines, making intricate patterns of green light. Yes - that was more like it. The masks will most likely be optional once the battle starts, which meant he only had to bear it during the introduction. That much he could allow; he had Phosper, after all, to cast a shade against anything unsightly about him. Now to wait for the show to begin...