Even if Hugo wasn't the target, he still froze in his tracks when the icy voice of Nehla offered up some scorn. Then, when she turned her attention to him, claws of ice clamped tight about his heart. Hume, already on the case, nudged up against his partner with a cheery expression. “Looking forward to working with you, madam,” he said, before leaning in to whisper to Hugo, “Don't worry, she doesn't know a thing about you. Just a mean spirit. She'll be singing a different tune once the action starts.”

After his words sunk in for a moment, Hugo found himself relaxing. His construct always knew just what to say. With zero idea who he was, Nehla could only be acting out of malice, and such a person had no right to sit in judgment of him. She existed as just another obstacle for him to meet and overcome. At least the birdbrain's partner seemed to be a bit nicer, although from what little he'd seen of her so far Hugo already felt she was probably too extreme in the other direction. Her stuttering introduction left him taken aback. Just what was the right thing to say to a very shy, unsure girl three years younger than him?

Hume knew. While there existed no confirmation that Chidori would be joining them, he greeted her as though she would be. “A pleasure!” he said warmly, looking thoroughly chuffed. “Allow me to assure you: you're in good hands.” A strange sentiment, maybe, from someone who at first glance appeared to have zero hands, but they would see soon enough.

Next, a lurking presence made herself known. Until now she'd remained the sort of noisy and annoying that could be tuned out, but now Emi had set about bothering Hugo in earnest, even if doing so was far from her intent. Her agitation threatened to set him off, but this time he kept a hold of himself without Hume's reassurance. Whoever his friends and foes would be in the coming moments didn't matter one ounce. Only triumph, and earning enough points to give him some peace and quiet until next time. The other captains could take Emi up on her offer if they liked, but if they did not, he didn't mind accepting her. 

Reaching into his pockets, Hugo began to warm up in secret by conjuring coils of cord, then letting them disappear. If his opponents turned out to be quick enough on the uptake that they didn't succumb to his strategy immediately, he'd need to apply a little pressure, and for that he needed a quick lash and precise aim. Of course, the thought of him having to intervene personally to ensure victory meant the possibility of him messing up, and therefore bringing about a loss, and with that notion came anxiety. Saying nothing, Hugo worked to keep it under control. All this time, and he still got nervous earning his keep? He felt almost as frustrated as he did uneasy. Yet, all the while, his face scarcely changed.