Jett was happy to see Ishtalle laugh at his jokes. Most competitors were simply annoyed by him and never took the time to stop and chat, let alone get his pristine humor. He grinned gleefully--and then something happened that he had never experienced before, either. 

Ishtalle made a pun too. 

Jett chuckled, and for once, it wasn't at his own joke. He smiled, looking at her with admiration, "Aw, man, that's hilarious--you guys are great, I too wish we could have met under better circumstances," He watched Ishtalle dematerialize, and then both men were alone again. He glanced down at the 250 karat diamond that was held between the man's fingers, tilting his head in awe. 

Then, as the wind blew through the both of them, the landscape started to grow colder. Jett knew that things were getting serious, yet his smile refused to waver. As he watched the diamond transform into a sword of varying forms of carbon, Jett's excitement for a good fight suddenly grew tenfold. With a bit of distance between them, he too got into a battle stance. At the same time, he examined the man's armor, trying to find any sort of weakened areas that would be a good area to attack. 

"I guess it can't be helped," He lifted a hand up above his head, and in a sparkle of lights, a sword similar in size to Corban's formed in the man's grasp. The hilt was made with intricate designs, representing an artist's touch. The blade itself was a deep black, almost like an obsidian, however it held an ominous glow. Jett's eyes glimmered with a mischievous tone, [b]"I have a tournament to win."[/b]

The wind blew again, except it came from the speed of Jett's body as it hit the jagged pavement, leather jacket kicking up around his frame as he moved. He cut the gap between them in less than a second, his glimmering sword slashing at Corban--Carbon? The element is Carbon!--within the chest area. He didn't intend to harm him yet, only to see just how durable the armor was. At the same time, he watched the hand that held the sword carefully.