Once he realized the futility of his halfhearted attempts at escape, Elliot simply stood, still as a statue, and waited for the ordeal to be over. He heard everything spoken by the other Wards -how could he not have?- but gave no reply. No attempts at amelioration garnered acknowledgment, and neither did he take up any oaths regarding Alessa's demand for pacification nor push for coherence. However, he neglected any overt hostility, broodiness, or resentment too, which in and of itself said something.

Elliot remained distant as the group, little by little, trickled back to PRT HQ through its more subversive entrance. One nigh-unknown to the public as a hero required little in the way of cautiousness to hide his identity, but the mental energy otherwise spent being inconspicuous allowed him to replay the terrible scene over and over in his mind. He wanted nothing more than to wipe this morning away. Never had he thought he might be confronted in any serious capacity, and in the moment of weakness he'd let the gig up. For a minute or two, the young man showed the depressed little heroes not the Margrave, but Elliot, a worthless entity made of shame, incompetence, and envy, best left buried deep, deep below. It would not happen again. When the others failed to live up to their new resolutions, having realized their pity project beyond salvation, the Margrave would be alone once more.

Eventually the Wards strode reunited into their team's designated area, tucked safely away in the Protectorate's hidden fortress. The others, the Margrave thought, seemed to be awfully eager to restore normalcy, nattering away as if nothing had happened. He had to give them some credit for putting forth genuine behavior after the scene at Little Owl. Nobody in their right mind would want to make nice in a situation like this, with tensions so high and the air anything but clear. The Margrave observed them as best he can, since his normal nature that Collin expected, antisocial and withdrawn, demanded no effort. How calculated, rather than true, was that smile? That laugh? Could the Margrave learn from their deceit of Collin to better understand when he himself was deceived? Their conversation came to a boiling point as Alessa came up with a bonding activity straightaway. [i]No wasting time,[/i] the Margrave noted with a dry smile. [i]Like a funeral the day after the death. Or marriage the day after engagement.[/i] No costumes, huh? In his case that condition came quite easily. He took a deep breath through his nose, then said, [color=8F9779]“Whatever you want.”[/color] How funny that his usual practice of not putting on airs of being a pleasant person meant so much less bother in a situation like this.

For a moment Evelyn's suggestion flabbergasted him, since her manner of speech demanded response and he had hoped to coast through this charade, but he worked together a response that fit his character. [color=8F9779]”Huh? A goody two-shoes saying we should abandon our noble pursuits and skive off to the countryside? Who are you, and what've you done with Evelyn?”[/color] He gave a chuckle, positioning his head in a dramatic manner. [color=8F9779]”That's something more suited for the likes of me, the Margrave. Bringing valiant heroes of the light to my level...what whisperer in darkness could decline? I'm all for it.”[/color]