[h2][center][color=f6989d]Ashley Wyatt Harper[/color][/center][/h2]

Harper balanced a plate on his hand as he inspected the food, pretending that he wasn’t absolutely ravenous and ready to just throw away his already miniscule amount of manners and devour the whole platter. He grabbed a strawberry between his thumb and forefinger, holding it up to the sky and squinting at it like a jeweler looking over a diamond before setting it down on his plate, his hand already reaching for another one to begin the whole song-and-dance over again.  Harper had to give it up to Iggy. Even if this entire thing turned out to be a complete bust and a waste of time, the noble had gone out of his way on this banquet. Of course, it paled greatly in comparison to the feasts held during the Festival of the Blue Sun, but then again, everything did. He popped a bit of bread in his mouth and practically shuddered. When was the last time he had bread that wasn’t stale? He took back what he thought earlier: this was greater than any Blue Sun Brunch he had ever been too. 
 
As he chewed on a slice of meat and practically melted where he stood, Harper took a second to replay his meeting with Ignis in his mind. It had gone better than he had anticipated—he was gearing up for being thrown out in the dirt, especially after that old man had piped up—and he silently promised to himself that he would keep his nose clean. He was grateful of this chance, truly, but he didn’t know how to express it to the noble without coming off as even slippier than he feared he already had. He’d just have to prove it in the arena, and as long as Iggy kept supplying him with meals like this Harper would do whatever he can to make sure that they won on the terms Iggy had put down. 
 
[color=9e0b0f]"Well between the two of us, I see quite a few large weapons and a girl has to wonder if that's the only one they've got."[/color]
 
A split-second reaction was all that kept the mountain of food Harper had been balancing on his plate from becoming a blessing for the ants as he choked on a mouthful of food, caught off-guard by the comment that wasn’t completely kept away from the rest of the table. Clearing his throat with a little bit of wine, Harper set his plate down on the table and pretend that he was distracted by something off in the distance, cocking his head ever so slightly to better eavesdrop on the conversation between the two women that was certain to be both fascinating and informative. Their tones grew hushed as they whispered back and forth, and instead of words all Harper could hear was [i]mumble mumble Ignis mumble mumble Tyren mumble mumble Harper THUNK [b]CRASH FUCK![/b][/i]
 
Harper whipped his head around so fast that he heard his neck pop, his eyes shooting daggers at Pops as the Tyreni laid out the practice dummy. [i]C’mon, Harp, you shouldn’t even be listening in on those ladies,[/i] he thought as he leaned against the table and watched the dummy splinter against the ground, his expression softening. The Tyreni was clearly older than the rest of them by a good chunk of change, and the way he was swinging that big blade earlier around like it was twig told Harper that he wasn’t just some failed stonemason trying to earn some quick gold. Harper drummed his fingers on his chin. The man’s style was rough, yet well-crafted. Calculated, yet wild. 
 
The crowds would love him.
 
Harper, right now, loved him, because the man decided not to try and destroy any more of the noble’s practice dummies, which meant he could now completely focus once again on listening in on a conversation that was not his. Aaaaaaand they were talking about deserts. Unless he was missing out on some new innuendo, the interesting part had gone past. Sighing, Harper hung his head, sadly grabbing another chunk of fruit and popping it in his mouth. As if by miracle, his mood was almost instantaneously brightened as he felt the sweet juices run down his throat. How had he gone so long being away from the gladiator life? Damn those wasted days.
 
Ignis was walking over. Harper took a quick second to wipe the food from his mouth and straightened up, trying to appear to be the exemplar gladiator if only minus the muscles and the magic. 
 
[color=fff79a]"Might I have your attentions, please?"[/color]
 
[color=f6989d]”We are yours, my lord. There’s no need to ask for our attention, you already have it,”[/color] said Harper, already leaning back against the table and settling in, his fingers creeping once more towards the food on his plate.