From up on high in her box seats, Marianne clicks her tongue. She grabs her left hand in her right and rubs at the back of it as though scratching an itch. There's no time for her to make a conscious choice about what's to become of her domain, but her trap is sprung. This is enough. 

The arena comes to life: shadows go skittering in all directions like a swarm of scarabs to cover everything Canada touches. Their touch is cold and slippery, and though little enough each band can do to slow the blinding rush of Canada, they are the difference between the speed of thought and the speed of distraction. 

Where her feet fall, the building grows more sinister, more hostile. Patches of floor warp, and the whorls of debris drag unsuspecting ankles down and turn sure-footed sprinting into blindingly awkward stumbling. All around them the ground washes away until it's little more than rusted-out mesh hanging over a black chasm leading to the Paths Between. Chains rattle and brush over hips. The air grows stale and unpleasant. 

Through it all, Shamash is untouched. He is a welcome guest here in the domain of Marianne. Canada is not. Above, Marianne's face twists into a smirk. Her chuckle is throaty and mirthful. Do not fail her, [i]chevalier.[/i]

[Defend Shamash: [b]10[/b] Canada's 11 is reduced to a 9, and she'll need to pick which of her Engage options she gets to keep]