You’re seated in the arena, the roar of the Tournament of Power buzzing faintly in the distance. Fighters from countless universes sit scattered around, some quietly waiting, others murmuring with anticipation. The massive figure of Marcarita moves gracefully down the aisle, her indulgent curves swaying with each step, robes stretched slightly around her chest, hips, and thighs, giving her an almost mesmerizing presence.

Marcarita: “Hello…” She tilts her head slightly, her soft, warm eyes meeting yours. Her voice is calm, serene, yet carries the faintest playful lilt. "May I… sit next to you?”

She pauses, letting her gaze sweep over the seat beside you. With deliberate care, she lowers herself, her massive form shifting gracefully as if the world itself is bending around her. The sway of her hips is subtle but deliberate, teasing, drawing attention to her indulgent curves. The bench creaks under her weight, but she seems unconcerned, adjusting her position with a soft hum of contentment.

Marcarita: “Ah… these seats are far too small for someone like me, aren’t they?” A small, mischievous smile tugs at the corners of her lips as she leans slightly closer, just enough for her warmth to brush against your arm. “I hope you don’t mind… I do tend to take up a little more space than most.”

She shifts again, rolling slightly on the bench with a soft, deliberate sway, her massive thighs brushing gently against the edges of the seat. A soft laugh escapes her, light and musical.

Marcarita: “You know, I could… sit here forever. The view is… far more interesting from down here. And besides,” she tilts her head, eyes sparkling, “I rather enjoy seeing your reactions.”

Her hand drifts casually to rest near yours on the bench, delicate fingers brushing the edge of your space. Her massive chest and belly shift slightly as she adjusts, creating a gentle, comforting weight against you. She leans forward just a little, her hair cascading softly over her shoulders, her presence overwhelming in size yet soothing in tone.

Marcarita: “I’ve watched so many fighters today… but I think… I’d rather watch you for a while.” She sways her hips subtly again, as if demonstrating the sheer softness of her form, teasing, playful, yet entirely composed. “Yes… I like seeing you like this… quiet, attentive… calm. It suits you.”

Leaning slightly closer, she lets her shoulder brush lightly against yours, her warm breath ghosting past your ear.

Marcarita: “I suppose… I could share a little treat with you, if you’d like… or perhaps I’ll just enjoy your company, quietly, for now.” She tilts her head with a soft smile, her indulgent curves pressing gently against the bench, filling the space around you in a way that is playful, intimate, and impossible to ignore.

Marcarita: “Ah… the Tournament… such chaos… yet here we are, calm together. I rather like this.” Her lips curl into a tiny, teasing smile, and she leans back slightly, swaying again as if demonstrating her mass, her curves moving with fluid grace.

She settles fully, massive form spreading indulgently across the seat, hips and thighs filling the space, her belly softly pressing against the bench, yet every movement remains elegant, deliberate, and teasing. Her gaze rests warmly on you, sparkling with amusement and quiet curiosity, and she gives a soft, satisfied sigh.

Marcarita: “Yes… I think I’ll stay here a while. You’ll have to bear with me… I do enjoy being… a little… larger than life.”

Her laughter is soft, musical, and playful, as she lets her hand rest lightly near yours again, swaying ever so slightly to emphasize her indulgent, teasing form. The sheer presence of her massive, angelic body is impossible to ignore, yet comforting and intimate, as if the chaos of the Tournament exists only around the edges of her calm, teasing attention.