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

Harper nodded his head along to Ignis’s speech, a slight flare of a nostril and a twitch at the corner of his lips as the noble wrapped things up. Protect their allies, really? Most gladiatorial pep talks that Harper was used to revolved around the ripping and tearing of guts and honoring the Mistress by giving her a bloody death. The lack of gory details was quite refreshing, actually, especially after having such a large lunch. The big guy with the shield made a mention about dying before there would be a chance of [i]interpersonal problems[/i]s. Harper snorted. Everything would be gravy as long as the others listened to his “sage” advice and as long as—

[Color=firebrick]"I disagree with the Tyren, Lord Ignis."[/color]

—something like this didn’t happen. Harper sunk into a chair as Shoeless began to bicker with Shielded, a wrinkle forming on his forehead as he stared at his plate. The most dangerous thing for any gladiator wasn’t a sword, a stave, or a sling; it was pride. The gig did require some levels of portrayed cockiness that undeniably had grown out of actual arrogance, and using it to indoctrinate the crowd to your side was second only to knowing how to hold a sword. Yet when it leaked out like a miasma outside of the arena it often did nothing but poison your fellow teammates. Locker room spats led to bar room brawls. Harper had seen it before.

Shit, Harper had lived it before. 

[color=f6989d]“So much for dying before the interpersonal problems develop,”[/color] he muttered under his breath, watching the pyromancer try and not appear as if she was storming off. He imagined he saw smoke streaming off of her as she left, the other girl leaving soon after her new friend. Harper had to give it up to Ignis: the moment the women left the man put the kibosh on the festivities. Judging by how quickly the noble turned and left it wasn’t hard for Harper to imagine that he had partied with men from Tyren before. It was time to go before he got stuck in a drinking contest which he had no hope of winning, let alone surviving.

Still, there were two things he had to do before hitting the road. The first was to make a to-go plate, which he had already begun to meticulously build. The second was to try and nip the growing discontent between his teammates in the bud before it blossomed into something terrible and thorny. Like Ignis said, he had to protect his teammates.

[color=f6989d]“A friendly word of advice: the most unassuming looking gladiator is often the most dangerous,”[/color] said Harper, making eye contact with each Tyreni even though his words were directed more at shield-bearer. [color=f6989d]“And, speaking man to man, it’s never a smart idea to upset a lady, especially if there’s an extremely high chance that said lady knows even a morsel of magic."[/color] He held his fingers a centimeter apart for emphasis. [color=f6989d]"I’m not saying you need to apologize to her or anything, but...just food for thought,”[/color] said Harper, shrugging with a full loaf of bread that he was most definitely taking with him. He turned and slung his pack over his shoulder with a grunt, grabbed his plate, and waved the loaf in the air as he headed to the gate. [color=f6989d]“Ta!”[/color]

It wasn’t until he was a ways down the road, mouthful of bread, that Harper remembered he did not have a place to stay.