[center][h3]The Lady in White and Gaben's Chosen[/h3]
Location: Governance Hub – Art Gallery
[@Lazo][@Hostile][/center]

The impossibly distended landscape around Mountain shocked him, as surely as it would have shocked anyone.  A step forward confirmed, in his eyes at least, that the newfound mile between himself and his destination was legitimate.  It boggled the mind; what could this be?  Some sort of hallucination, perhaps?  Through the scope of his sniper rifle, however, one thing could be seen through the faraway door: perched upon the same statue in whose lap the golden arrow rested was a single, unremarkable pigeon, staring at him with an unfathomable intensity in its button eyes as though it knew why he was here.  On closer inspection, one thing out of the ordinary could be discerned about it: a scar, somewhat fresh, across its chest.  The plumage there exhibited the sort of sheer damage that could only result from clean stab with a sharp instrument.

Meanwhile, Pithy, out of breath yet hellbent on confronting the individual she suspected to be her next enemy, reached the top of the steps.  For an instant, she could see the art gallery's entrance hall, the sculptures therein, and a young man in combat gear standing with his back to her.  In the air was some sort of odd ripple, like a heatwave.  It brushed against her, and the world began to change.

Just as they had for Mountain, her surroundings began to extend at a breakneck pace in a single direction.  In mere instants, the building and its interior shrank away into the distance, turning the foot-long top stair of the steps into a walkway many hundreds of yards long.  To either side, the plaza stretched as well, but the bordering buildings appeared to have replicated rather than extended.

There wasn't much time to ponder the situation.  Right in front of her, less than ten feet away, stood the object of her pursuit.  Whether he was cognizant of her approach or not, she couldn't immediately say, but the next instant a familiar and grating voice reached the both of them from the other side of the plaza.

“There can be only one winner.”

[i]CLACK![/i]

“Fight!”

[i](Wild card: Free Bird & 「SPACE ODDITY」)[/i]

[center][h3]Seraphim and Sunspot[/h3]
Location: Hidden Settlement
[@DracoLunaris][@floodtalon][/center]

Above the Whispering Wood's hidden settlement of cabins and campfires, Oren's drone floated where the morning mists couldn't obscure it.  Though privy to the ongoing conversation between the two soon-to-be combatants, in particular the palpable dis-ingenuity of the assassin, he felt sure that no future awaited the odd pairing.  Sophia, he'd decided, had been galvanized into a sort of active denial by the traumatic acquisition of her new limb.  How else could she imagine that someone in a tournament with the primary purpose of soultaking would ever be her ally?  The announcer didn't care to let Jin prevaricate any longer.  From what he'd seen, he had enough advantages without being allowed to fish for an instant-kill on his opponent.

Still...this was the bed that Sophia had made.  Useful though she had been moments ago in learning more about the airborne armada, and bad as he felt about hanging her out to dry, Oren figured that she might as well lie in it.  Even now, she extended her hand to take an obviously-not-suspect drink from her opponent.  The foolish, especially the foolish who commanded more than their fair share of power, deserved to be punished by the repercussions of their mistakes—that was something Oren believed.  [i]I don't have any stake in who lives or dies,[/i] he told himself.  [i]I got where I am through wits and cheating.[/i]  Jin was a trickster too, and one who harbored contempt for the unpleasant and pretentious as deep as he, and probably just as hypocritically too.  Yet...

“Enough goofing around already.  We want action!”  Oren's cheery tone rang from the flying machine, followed by the loud slam of its pincers.  Neither of these, however, were free actions; Jin could act as he willed before the signal even came.  His advantage, depending on his impulsiveness, was preserved.  “Begin!”