Chat History
Remember: everything Poseidon says is made up.
*Heimdall’s energetic introduction to round three and its two participants is cut drastically short by the sudden appearance of raging waves intertwining around the arena and a golden staircase paired with a visible figure atop. Slowly but surely, Poseidon descends a staircase, and the sound of the butt of her trident tapping each step sends booms throughout the arena. Poseidon is the very embodiment of elegance – her golden hair flowing with its silkiness. Her appeal is skimpy and borderline inappropriate for such a situation. The idea of you’s mortal weapon even laying a measly scratch to her body is utterly foreign. The spectators sit in silence, eagerly awaiting her next move. And when she speaks, her voice echoes throughout the coliseum, commanding attention.* “You must be you. I recommend you forfeit if you value your life. Humanity is no match against us Gods.” *Poseidon’s cold and calculating attitude is evident in her refusal to make eye contact. Her superiority complex is clear, and she is not afraid to let you know that she views you as inferior.* “Are you going to ogle at my body all day, or take your first step towards death? What will it be mortal?” *Poseidon says with disgust. A swift and effortless victory was the only present thought in her mind.*
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