[center][h3][color=c2b280]Fleo Plector – Phoenix Wing Stands[/color][/h3][/center]

Looking at Nolan now and hearing his impatience to fight someone, Fleo could see that her team's leader was something of a perfectionist.  Though he kept up a cool exterior, he obviously cared a lot about maintaining as good of a magic, body, and image as possible.  He was the kind of guy that legends would be written about.  Most likely, he cared for his friends with the same fervor, but wouldn't for the life of him show it.  Standing next to him, Fleo almost felt embarrassed.  The intensity and inner drive found in Nolan outshone hers by a huge degree.  She had no unusual goals or desires, no incredible talents, no great quest, and no fascination with adventure.  Except for her Dust Magic and the state of her limbs, Fleo might as well have been a normal person; Nolan, however gritty, mean-spirited, and over-competitive, was a hero.

As the next fight warmed up, Fleo considered for a moment the reasons why a person like Nolan might cast a shadow over people like her.  Was it because of the tragedy in his youth, part of which he'd shared on the first day they'd known one another?  It seemed reasonable that tragic events could have hardened him—steeled his soul.  Did his friends give him strength?  What then if he lost, did that mean that it wasn't enough?  Was drive a side-effect of his power?  She knew that only those who'd suffered anathema could become Dust wizards; perhaps some quality relating to willpower dictated Ash God Slayer magic as well.  

Before long, the dusty woman's head was spinning, and she quickly refocused on the current battle.  It was two guilds she knew little of, Dragon Fang and Tough Love.  [color=c2b280]”Harry doesn't look like much,”[/color] she thought aloud.  [color=c2b280]”And that Zephyr guy has a certain flair.  This could go either way, but Tough Love's been having some tough luck so far.”[/color]

[center][color=c0c0c0][h3]Cecilia Lenin – Frenzy Camp[/h3][/color]
[@Raijinslayer][/center]

Mere moments after Magni disappeared, Cecilia rushed up to where Argus and Heisty Beardo were standing.  She wore a surprised expression.  [color=c0c0c0]”Holy moly!  I knew that Magni was intense, but nearly attacking a new guild member?  I mean, it's pretty obvious you're not totally human, but still.  I'll have to report that to General Sanders, as infighting.”[/color]  She knelt down to check on Beardo and ended up helping him to his feet, though his great size in comparison to hers made it difficult.  [color=c0c0c0]”Oof!  Yeesh.  Any idea why he'd try to kill you out of nowhere?”[/color]

[center][h3][color=007FFF]Indigo Afina – Painting Booth[/color][/h3]
[@oblivion666][@liferusher][/center]

A light laugh from Indigo greeted Isla's flattering comment.  “A beautiful miss?  Heh, I'm almost old enough to be your mother.  You're too kind.  Anyway, yes, I'd like to request a painting, if you'd be so good.  My husband hasn't ever been to Crocus you see, so I think I'd like you to paint the Doma Flau, if that'd work.  Just the building itself.  Sound good?”

As Isla got to work, Indigo cast a look around.  Despite being a large man with a very identifiable presence, Ike was nowhere to be found.  It was strange enough that he'd just walk off to get a picture taken in the middle of the games, but to vanish without a trace immediately afterward?  How bizarre.  The Librarian's eyes drifted over the various paintings that Isla had on display, no doubt meant to showcase her talent and entice future customers.  From the portraits, it was obvious to see that the girl's chief talent was stunning realism, capturing the most interesting details in stunning accuracy.  However, not all Indigo's thoughts were admiration of Isla's skill.  What intrigued her well-developed mind was that if Isla might be taking requests and completing them so quickly, why were so many unclaimed and with no sign of their subjects in sight?

Indigo found herself looking at the prominent painting displayed in the 'hall of fame' spot.  It took her all of two seconds to realize that the picture looked exactly like her guildmate Ike Riven.  A smile found its way onto the Librarian's lips.  [color=007FFF]”That one is worthy of praise indeed.”[/color]  She summoned a book into her hands, still waiting for Isla to finish, and began to read silently.  By now, the painter had to be finished.

[center][h3][color=d8bfd8]Nero the Genie – Antiques Shop[/color][/h3]
[@invisible man][/center]

Before the rocker could switch off her music to hear Eve out, a newcomer danced into the scene.  Nero looked even more smugly pleased himself than usual, like a snake have gorged on a vicious rat.  In his hand was a tiny trinket, a speaker made of bone.  He held it up delicately between two fingers, as if it were a precious stone.  [color=d8bfd8]”Got 'eem!”[/color] he piped up happily, before glancing at the punk girl with thinly-veiled distrust and distaste.  The expression alone was enough to convince her to leave the dark mages to their business.

When the conversation had become private again, Nero was only too happy to explain.  [color=d8bfd8]”Check it out!  This is someone's voice.  She bet against me in a poker game and lost.  Don't worry, she wasn't making much use of it anyway.  Antisocial and a smoker—made her voice all husky and raspy.  Since that was a product of her habit, however, it should be the pure version that you use...if you're willing to accept it.”[/color]  The genie rubbed the back of his head, smiling.  [color=d8bfd8]”I've been a little bit of a tool lately, and I hope this will make it up to you.  I can't wait to hear you talk again!”[/color]  He punctuated this statement by clapping his hands together and rubbing the palms against one another, up and down.