[center][img]http://txt-dynamic.cdn.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjgwLmYzZTFhMC5WSEpwYzNSaGJpQkVaV2x0YjNNLC4wAAAA/trinigan-fg.regular.png[/img]
[color=lemonchiffon]♫[/color] Hargeon | [color=lemonchiffon]Interacting with[/color]: [@Milkman] ♫
[hider=Appearance][img]https://i.imgur.com/XTpQgiY.jpg[/img][/hider][/center]
[right][b]Current Song[/b]: [color=lemonchiffon]None[/color]
[u]Repertoire[/u]: [color=lemonchiffon][b]Unavailable[/b][/color][/right][hr][hr]
Tristan fancied himself a good judge of character; there was very little that couldn't be revealed in the first encounter with a stranger. One only needed an open mind and keen sight to recognise it. Renard Sournois was an interesting lad; playful with boundless energy, living on the brighter side of life. It was clear as day the boy was an open book, comfortable with who he was and not afraid to share that with the world. Tristan's smile widened as he shook his hand. He could tell they would get along just fine.

"[color=lemonchiffon]Bah! Nothing but the words of bitter old crows resentful of their own misspent youth![/color]" Tristan sneered, grasping Renard's hand in a firm grip. The boy wasn't shy with sharing his grievances with Tristan, despite barely knowing him. Not one to dally on such thoughts, the Bard simply took it as a sign of trust and did his best to offer comforting banter. With a nickname like 'annoying brat', Tristan wasn't particularly sure how fond Renard was of his guildmates opinions of him.

"[color=lemonchiffon]As charming as that nickname sounds, I think I'll stick to calling you Little Mouse.[/color]"

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"[color=lemonchiffon]When we're finished with this business, I would very much like to hear your, no doubt numerous, tales of drawing the ire of the Magic Council.[/color] Tristan beamed, walking a little bit behind Renard so he could lead the way to the gambling hall. The pair had long since left the glamorous port strip of elegant boutiques, cozy cafes and bustling markets. They instead found themselves in a much less dignified part of Hargeon. The walls were lined with graffiti, garbage was being picked apart by feral cats and seagulls and the looks given to them by the local clientele leaved much to be desired. Tristan met eyes with a one eyed brute who was rhythmically flourishing a butterfly knife in his hand. The man spat on the floor while locking eyes with the Bard, a most unfriendly scowl revealing a row of filthy teeth. The pair quickly moved on, Tristan's gaze quickly shooting forward lest the man decided he didn't like the look of his face.

Renard approached an old warehouse, the walls lined with worn posters and faded printing that suggested the space was once used as a pharmacy. Weeds grew wild up along the wall and windows were shattered, giving off the impression of an abandoned building. Yet the distant sound of idle chatter and laughter was indicative of anything but. Though perhaps the biggest tip off was the beast of a man standing by the door. He was as typical a bouncer you had ever seen; stern, unyielding gaze and built like a mountain. He wore a black bandanna that covered the lower half of his face and his exposed torso was covered in an intricate tattoo of a huge octopus. The tentacles spread up to his shoulders and coiled around his arms up to his wrist. His forearms looked like they'd been used to block many a sword strike, riddled with nasty scars. Tristan noticed he was wearing studded cestus on his hands. Judging by his sheer size and brawn, a haymaker from this fellow would be the last thing one would want.

Wrapping an arm around Renard's shoulders, Tristan quickly forced the boy into a nearby alleyway, being careful not to step in any rancid rubbish.
"[color=lemonchiffon]Unfortunately, you may need to make yourself scarce Little Mouse.[/color]" Tristan began, huddled in close to Renard as to avoid any eavesdroppers. "[color=lemonchiffon]I imagine that bouncer isn't the only security in that place, and we'll need to keep a low profile while gathering information lest we end up on their bad side. Transform into a Rat and hide in my shirt, then when I'm inside you can scurry off and listen out for anything useful. Sound good?"[/color] Tristan couldn't hide the excitement in his voice, despite the seriousness of their task and the very high risk he'd end up with more than just a couple bruises if things went south. It had been some time since he'd been on such an exhilarating mission. The certainty in which Renard had involved himself in this matter was downright inspiring, and Tristan couldn't help but wonder if all of this was par for the course in the lives of a Fairy Tail wizard?