On the other side of the arena, another pilot was hyping himself up. Standing in front of a mirror, he adjusted the connection points of his piloting suit. Custom made, well-fitted and<span style="font-style: italic">quite</span>clearly meant to be a bit showy. The black undersuit was littered with metallic ports, and his arms - which were mechanical, artificial limbs - stuck out from the sleeveless first layer. There were small ports along his collarbone and the back of his neck, which clicked into place on matching spots of connection embedded in his cybernetically enhanced body. Nearby, a silver jakcet-like garment and a helmet rested atop a table, upon which were also a few tools.<br/><br/>He stood in front of a mirror, set up in front of a hangar that currently housed a large robot. "You got this. Number one." Muttering to himself, he slammed his fists together, taking a deep inhale. For a moment, he closed his eyes until he heard the familiar little tone of his partner's message alert. "Oh. Well, yeah, isn't that the idea? Nothing new in these tournaments at least." Unballing his fists, he turned to the mechanic. "Besides, how do you know she's military? A lot of Americans just really like camo. You ever been down south, man? That shit's everywhere." Besides, why would a soldier be hanging around and watching them? Sure, they may have stolen a few dozen tons of mecha parts, raided newly-fallen contact zones, and committed tax fraud, but that was police-level stuff. Sending a soldier after them would be a little extreme, probably.<br/><br/>Just before he began to walk off to speak to the woman, he was stopped by another message. "Oh, yeah? That's like, an international incident if she so much as touches me. I'm<span style="font-style: italic">basically</span>invincible here." A dumbass grin crossed his face, and he gave a shitty little half-salute to the person watching them, who only responded by crossing her arms a bit more tightly. "Besides, she's more your type anyway, Rivas. Go on, chat her up. It'll give ya something to do while I'm out there kicking ass." He patted the mechanic on the back of his shoulder, then swooped up his jacket off the table, pulling it on in an all-too dramatic fashion that made it flow in the air behind him. His arms entered the sleeves, which were lined with smaller connection ports, and the sounds of clicking could be heard as everything shifted into place. Finally, he grabbed the helmet. A similarly silver, mostly round ensemble that pulled over his head and exposed his face. The smallest amount of his white-dyed hair stuck out above his eyes, both mechanical blue implants in his natural monolid structure.<br/><br/>The helmet clicked into one final port on the back of his neck, and across the whole outfit, blue lines flashed as the suit activated its technological aspects. "Logged the fuck in," He mumbled, another smile crossing his face as he looked up towards the machine ahead of him. It was a smooth, futuristic-looking model, very sleek and somewhere in the medium weight and size range. "Okay, Keizer! You and me, we're gonna take that trophy today, so don't you glitch up on me." With one final roll of his shoulders, followed by a crack of his neck, he bounded up the stairs that led to a platform suspended near the machine's back.<br/><br/>When he was close enough, he snapped his fingers, a completely needless display as the machine was now linked to his mind. Larger-scale mechanical noises could be heard as the back armour plating shifted out and up, and from behind an extra few layers that pulled themselves back, the cockpit's main seat emerged. When it was close enough to the platform, he hopped over the railing onto the chair, taking hold of the control sticks on either armrest. A simple push forward began to retract the seat into the machine's torso once more. Just before he entered entirely, he stopped and looked back out at the intimidating military woman, yelling to her. "Yo! My mechanic thinks you're super hot!" And just like that, he was gone, hidden beneath the hide of his machine.