[center][h3][color=c2b280]Fleo Plector – Phoenix Wing Hotel[/color][/h3] [@Burthstone][@Zarkun][/center] Always striving to be a kindred spirit, Fleo found empathy to be a fruitless calling once in a while, but for the most part the ability to connect with her fellow man fulfilled her, making her feel as if she were truly living life to the fullest. Following the urges of her guiding light did not always appear to be so easy, but loving her neighbor just as herself always struck Fleo as doable. Her heart hurt, then, when the trembling star before her burned against her. Luna’s accusatory tirade paralyzed her, slapping the dusty woman with a baneful tone even if her words held no true venom. When Luna advanced, Fleo retreated, appalled that someone might think her a threat. It just didn’t compute—how could a woman of dust, so joyous just to be out in the world and experiencing what it had to offer be so cruel? What had she done to deserve these charges? The idea suffused her, though, that Luna did not blame her specifically. She saw herself at odds with Phoenix Wing, though Fleo couldn’t rightly say that what flowed from Luna now was hatred. If anything the sorceress appeared perilously close to despair; this deep, dark rut Fleo knew all too well. Despite feeling attacked, then, she remained quiet, and listened with a tragically upset face to the indictments of Iron Enigma. As she heard the names, Fleo tried to connect them to faces, succeeding only with Deyja and Mark, who represented their guild in the Games. For the first time she felt truly dubious about Iron Enigma, imagining from Luna’s description that hers was a legitimate Dark Guild. When Luna finished, the dusty woman could think of nothing to say. [i]How do I help this…?[/i] Her hesitation allowed Damian and Penny to step in instead. They both attempted to tell her how wrong her guild was, neither quite comprehending the psychological struggle afflicting her. Assertions about Amelia’s nature occupied more of their attention than attempts to sympathize. Fleo proved, however, too slow to come to poor Luna’s aid, and before she could think of anything that might help, other Phoenix Wingers had piled into the hotel and the lone Iron Enigma mage had disappeared onto the street. Feeling like a failure, Fleo withdrew back to her table to sit in silence and think. [center][color=40826D][h3]Jillian Suede – Frenzy Camp Center[/h3][/color] [@Caits][/center] The smile on Jillian’s face eroded like a river’s rock to witness Gabriel’s display. From his reluctance she expected no special grace or fluidity to his movements, but the boy’s behavior went beyond untalented to appear ludicrous and phony. It did not seem possible that anyone could be so completely deaf to perfectly good music as to underperform this drastically. Though by no means a gift of Jillian’s, dancing was something with which she held a comfortable familiarity, and even unskilled dancers at least resonated with something by accident. As she watched it became increasingly obvious that the boy was neither merely untalented or not trying; he was purposefully trying to do badly, in as blatant a manner as possible. Robbed of her enthusiasm and crestfallen, Jillian frowned. Why would he mock her like this? His behavior over the months since his arrival at the guild indicated completely that he preferred being alone. Never did he attempt to socialize with the others, or go out of the way to assist them or being around them. Thinking this to be shyness, a kind of recalcitrance coming from a lack of opportunity, Jillian had been pleased to extend her hand and help him. Now, she watched him throw it in her face, making fun of her with this exaggerated, purposeful show and asserting her mistake in trying to prod him into camaraderie. A few moments later, he appeared next to her. Resolving not to let his jibe get to her, Jillian smiled. [color=40826D]”Nobody gets it on their first try, hon. Just do whatcha feel like; I’m not gonna push ya. G’night.”[/color] Turning around, the elegant soldier waddled off toward the sleeping tents, most likely to turn in for the night. [center][h3][color=c0c0c0]Cecilia Lenin – Frenzy Camp[/color][/h3] [@Raijinslayer][/center] At the sound of a cough, Cecilia didn’t immediately turn away from her book, only realizing after a couple of seconds that someone had made a bid for her attention. Clapping the book shut, the young knight turned her attention to Argus, blinking a few times to focus. Immediately it became somewhat obvious, despite her courteous attempt to hide it, that she did not feel completely at ease. [color=c0c0c0]”Wasn’t it Beardo that helped you into the guild? Anyway, I am happy to see that you’re feeling better, and that you think you’ve made a good choice. I am not one for dancing. My mother’s serious manner is my own. My apologies.”[/color] A strange look passed her face. No shame or doubt should have prickled her for a refusal well within her right to make, but the plaintive expression on the demon’s face made her feel guilty for wanting, unequivocally, to be without his presence. [color=c0c0c0]”Come morning, however, I can have coffee with you, if you wish.”[/color] Cecilia’s face did not lend itself well to smiling, its contours more accustomed to businesslike neutrality or a cynical frown. All the same, she made it apparent that she did not wish to alienate the repentant demon Argus. [center][h3][color=FFCC33]Kumbha Yatta – Frenzy Camp[/color][/h3] [@hatakekuro][/center] A hearty laugh rang out as the various Frenzy Plant members, previously occupied with the tossing of Dalton like a hot potato, dispersed to attend to other little celebrations. Smirking widely, a big-chinned man moved between Enma and Dalton to clap both Oni and Exceed on the back. However awkward the maneuver owing to the participants’ vastly disparate heights, Kumbha’s enthusiasm shone through it all. [color=FFCC33]”What a game, catch with a cat! A hundred thanks to you, my little purple friend. I am truly astonished that you agreed to such a rough sport! You are made of tough stuff.”[/color] He reached out for the nearest table and took a mug of beer that most certainly wasn’t his. Straightening himself up, he quaffed the foaming brew in a few gulps, savoring the flavor as he wondered how Enma could down an entire keg. The sight of Dalton coaxing a pompadour from his grape-colored fur only gave rise to further questions. [color=FFCC33]”You, sirs, are strange ones, but any man or beast who can get hype is a comrade of mine. I know you well, Enma, but you, cat, I know not at all. Tell me: who are you and from where do you hail?”[/color] Kumbha seated himself on a stool and cupped his great chin in a hand, intrigued. [center][h3][color=d8bfd8]Nero the Genie – Shunji Aki Restaurant[/color][/h3] [@liferusher][@oblivion666][@lmpkio][/center] Nero held his arm across Ayame’s shoulders, deadpan, while steely Malice made a scene. He watched her weep and moan, slowly moving his arm upward like a snake getting ready to pounce. Ignoring Sayatachi’s compliment, he snapped his fingers, and a new eyepatch appeared on Malice’s face. This one was a purple ribbon, tight enough to not be lost but comfortable on her skin, and the patch appeared to be raven-black, with a gleaming golden eye of silk stitched where her eye might be. [color=d8bfd8]”Jeez, way to get worked up. Didn’t I say I was good with clothes? Not even a minute ago.”[/color] He followed the others in, swaggering through the high-class restaurant as if he owned the place. The place’s breathtaking ornamentation captured his imagination, firing him up for the design of garments fit for an eastern lord. His mischievousness did not fall by the wayside, however, and as the group seated themselves Nero held up a finger and twirled it around. On the heads of Malice, Sayatachi, and Ayame appeared goofy propeller caps. The Genie’s ensuing giggles lasted until the waiter arrived, after which he whipped open his menu and selected the first thing that looked good, paying no mind to the price. [color=d8bfd8]”A fruit soda and a [url=http://orig01.deviantart.net/ef03/f/2008/296/d/1/d1d1bb6f8a3404ec58be43ad852a5d9f.jpg]Sevenese Pocket[/url], please.”[/color] Crossing his arms, Nero waited for the others to order.