Playing god only has its perks when you're ready to accept full responsibility for the consequences of your actions. Zory had ceased to have virtually any interest in pulling strings in anyone's favor as of late. Meddling with time is complicated enough even when you don't have any vested interest in any of the fates you're tampering with.
The supernatural, paranormal and even mythical creatures that comprised the vast majority of the Nova Alliance were broadly and blissfully ignorant regarding what her kind were truly capable of. Zelestial beings were notoriously powerful and often extremely dangerous to trifle with and many knew little else. Of all the fighters she laid eyes on while scouting for potential successors in these underground fighting rings, only one seemed like a viable candidate for ascension.
Heaps of scarred flesh on repeatedly mended bones such as in the case of Ozzy Noiré were a dime a dozen in places like this, but she remained certain that he was far more intelligent than he liked to let on. Of all the things he may or may not be, a mindless brute who reveled in this senseless violence just didn't seem to be one. Zory had been searching far and wide for someone with even half as much potential as her next and likely final charge for umpteen years now.
Zory had spent so many years of her life teaching the best of the best how to hunt the worst of the worst, she wasn't even sure she could truly tell them apart anymore. Ozzy seemed to have all of the right instincts with the exception of one. As his sky blue eyes zeroed in on her, his glaring lack of common sense regarding basic principles of self-preservation was obvious. Stupid is as stupid does.
This spar was over long before his normally piercing gaze had even landed on her. While he didn't happen to be enough of a Neanderthal to assume her gender held any weight in this fight, he definitely was naive enough to assume she had even really been looking for a fight in the first place. A nova class zelestial-type with even a fraction of his combat experience should have been able to sense her lack of intent to attack. Whatever he was or wasn't playing at, he was biting off way more than he could ever possibly hope to chew.
As far as she could gauge, he was intuitive, likely far too smart for his own old. He should have known better than to swing about his weight class, or so she thought. Not yielding in the face of her issuing a challenge was moronic at best. He was far too enthralled with trying to build a new name for himself in this arena to have that much of a death wish.
By the time the man that was often regarded as the hidden gem of the Nova Alliance had even fully wound his arm back to build momentum to strike, he found himself on the ground in the blink of an eye. As he struggled to compute how he came to be sprawled out on his back out of the blue, the strangely absent weight of her clearly standing on his sternum made him hesitant to move. Effortless control of gravity in that sort of capacity was more than just uncanny, it was unheard of. She was on another level entirely.
He became more and more certain he couldn't move even if he wanted to as his senses finally caught up to him little by little. His body was feeling impossibly heavy and heavier still as the chorus of cheers and laughter roared to life around them. Everything about the ruckus in the audience seemed to slow as his eyes finally moved to meet hers smirking down at him with amusement rather than with the triumphant or even smug air he would have expected.
He hadn't even bothered to ask her name and in hindsight, he gathered everyone else here had probably already known it and for good reason. She was quite unlike any other opponent he'd ever made even just a slight miscalculation regarding. It was as if he knew then and there misjudging her was a grave mistake he couldn't ever afford to make again.
She seemed curious as to what he might say or ask and he was only curious as to why someone like her would even care what his response to finally getting his first taste of defeat here would be. While her looks might have been exceedingly plain compared to that of other zelestials her age, her extraordinary gifts were clearly not to be overlooked.
As he heard and felt the earth crack and buckle beneath all of the pressure she was asserting while somehow causing him no further injury, new realization dawned. Her dark hair and darker eyes were in line with the vague description of the title holder he had been well on his way to dethroning. As far as he knew, as the record stood, only one warrior type nova had a winning streak here that had yet to beat. The possibility that this otherworldly woman was the long lost daughter of that man in question was daunting.
"Are you going to yield or not, Ozzball?" She chuckled as she peered his way with a more genuine smile.
The signature move of Arin that no one else had ever found a way to outgun being mastered by his daughter in her likely earlier twenties was a logical assumption to draw. She seemed to be in her late twenties now and had likely felt there was no reason for her to compete when there was no real competition to be found for her here. The absence of any fear in her eyes as she watched him warily coupled with no trace of even slight reluctance in her friendly tone and demeanor was unsettling. It was only then that he paused to notice her uniform.
The referee that had told him to pick on someone his own size was clearly the biggest fish in this not so little pond. She was primed to be the most illustrious catch of open courting season. She wasn't the kind of girl most men could brush off having blown their shot with for the sake of all the other fish in the sea. She was cool as a cucumber while most women who made direct eye contact were easily flustered by him.
"He's too starstruck to function, Zor." Ozzy's estranged but nevertheless useful brother Iz declared.
"Then he's too green still." Zory frowned. "Let's go home."