[center][img]https://i.gyazo.com/31440370545d06cd672ff25309222dde.png[/img]
[h3][color=ed1c24]Jonas Highwind[/color][/h3]
Lake Lunks
[@Dirty Pretty Lies][@Plank Sinatra][@Krayzikk][@Altered Tundra][/center]

He had failed.

It was a small, insignificant failure, especially in the grand scheme of things, but Jonas had failed spectacularly at his one stated goal.

Around him, the enhanced acuity of his hearing drove it home, with a half-dozen murmurs and titters entering his register even as the final sentence had left his unassuming lips. All it took was a single exchange. On a battlefield, that maxim held just as true, with totally more dire consequences... but still, it was an immediate and seemingly unavoidable failure.

Such was a chilling thought. This was why he left these things to Dallas. He knew how to work a room better than the larger man ever had, and though it wouldn't be subtle— most of his working mind was spinning the gears towards the conclusion of "Ariana Mossos draws enough attention that the only subtle conversation you could have with her would be behind closed doors", Dallas had the social wherewithal to set much more realistic goals.

And now, Jonas was left with the aftermath of his hubris. He and the Daughter of Aphrodite, fresh off of what could only have felt like trying to seduce a brick wall in public, now held the gaze of most everyone here.

His name left a couple mouths, none of which he was fully certain he knew, nor had even spoken with. They were laughing. They were shocked. Some were upset. Some were sardonic. They ran the full gamut of emotions. How bold could he be to reject her? More shockingly, how bold could [i]she[/i] be to [i]approach him[/i]? He didn't mind it, given that he was the one who was simply trying to politely turn away someone putting themselves out there, but her—

[color=6c697e]"It was pretty bold of her to think Jonas Highwind would actually be interested in her brand of whatever product she was selling."[/color]

Yeah, that was bad. Every dig and every chuckle was just going to make this worse, especially if those assembled were going to put his name in their mouths.

[color=ed1c24][i]Has my reputation really gotten to this extent?

...I [b]have[/b] a reputation?

Half of my efficacy comes from the fact that I'm always written off as Dal's thug. They don't expect me to have a mind of my own. When did [b]this[/b] happen?

Throws a hell of a lot out of whack.[/i][/color]

[color=9e0b0f]"Onii-[i]chan."[/i][/color]

Oh come [i]on[/i].

Stepping out at a right angle, he bladed his body to keep both of the friends accosting him in view, sparing a moment to look his sister in the eye—

[color=9e0b0f]"Ari-chan is good girl,"[/color] she insisted politely, mustering all of her inner strength and her middling command of English. [color=9e0b0f]"But if you want to hang out with your friends tonight, I can hang out with mine. We can both keep eye on things together."[/color]

And confirmed what his experienced ears had long known, from the tightness of the syllables to the distinct stressing of the honorific.

His sister was royally upset— and the Bekah behind her wasn't far off. The latter seemingly not at him, but that strayed from the point. The willowy Japanese girl's eyes were ablaze.

Add another issue to the list of "how this backfired horrendously."

As a preemptively cordoned off part of his mind spun off in about a baker's dozen directions, quickly gauging the severity of the situation and its likelihood of blowing up in his face, his eyes found Dallas. His brother in all but blood. His equal and opposite. The Dante to his Vergil. The Ken to his Ryu. The man who could save him from this mess with a word, a smirk, and a cavalier attitude.

He felt a hint of hope as the Son of the Sun smiled upon him...

And just as quickly found it dashed against the waves as he received an all-out [i]broadside[/i], straight to the face. A torrent of memes and inside jokes, spewing out into the airspace without care [i]nor[/i] consideration of friendly fire. Immortan Joey. The Foundation of what We Are Now. Fucking [i]FRAM CAM![/i] [i]Asshole[/i], 2015 passed us by ages ago. 

[color=6ecff6]"Look at him go. It's like watching Scott Summers try and take a fucking eye exam."[/color]

His "thick brainpan" realized a crucial fact, prompting yet another fragment of his inner monologue to well up, frothing against the tight lid that was his self-control and gift of Courage.

This was on purpose! Looking at his eyes, looking at the laughter in them, the mischief, he could [i]tell[/i]! Forget Danger Close, forget Friendly Fire, this was Enemy Action!

He forced down a shudder in his shoulders, and tightened his jaw before it could loose any sound.

[color=ed1c24][i]Bastard, you're just trying to make me crack![/i][/color]

Busting a gut now would sink this ship outright. No amount of explanation that "no, see, the Fram Cam was this really poorly done shill that showed up a lot during mid-decade UFC cards, and I was laughing at the callback" would fall on charitable ears with a first impression of [i]joining in on the guffawing[/i].

So, he refused to laugh.

Alright. 
Fine. 
He couldn't count on Dallas. 
He would have his head for the betrayal later. 

For now, he would take full measure to regain a handle on this. He inhaled through his nose, lungs swelling with the clean lakeside air, and shepherded his thoughts back to center. Back to baseline. [color=ed1c24][i]Within Cells Interlinked[/i][/color].

First, he would establish a threat matrix. A list, bottom to top, of what in this moment he was worried about the most. Who he was worried about the most. Naturally, the conclusion was that the current spectators sans the Solar Saboteur weren't worth worrying about. Most he didn't know. Most he couldn't hope to control. Doing so would only further exacerbate things. An appeal to any one of them would be poorly placed and poorly worded, coming across as simple panic. That would only further feed into the current atmosphere. Mirth wouldn't be just at his expense, it would be at [i]their[/i] expense.

So in Ariana's mind, [i]her[/i] expense. To tell the truth, he did shove the brunt of it onto her with the simple act of playing dumb. That was on him. But now, that in turn meant that he needed to keep her from flipping out if he wanted to remain true to his original mission statement in any respect. That was also a pragmatic act. Perhaps his firebrand of a mother was skewing his perception of things, but he understood well the old saying about the Fury of a Woman Scorned. With the little he knew of Ariana, mixed with the mercurial vibe he had picked up during their brief conversation, he doubted that she was going to let some of the things being said here slide with a smile on her face. What he didn't doubt in the least was that this would prove a blow to her pride.

Part of him noted that in a campaign of Psychological Warfare, it could potentially be a thread to tug.

The rest of him had common sense and said to both focus on the here and now, not hypothetical battles in which trash talk could serve a purpose towards a victory that escaped his massive skill and physical advantages. If only he'd paid more attention to Dana's friends, he might have a better shot at solving the problems of the current moment... something that could ameliorate an embarrassed daughter of Aphrodite.

This of course lead him to the top of the list: Dana. Dana-chan. Harada Danaye. Five Feet and Ten Inches tall, One-Hundred and Fifteen pounds. A firecracker that could produce strength tripling that of such stature on a whim, and go further, much further, if upset. She was definitely upset. She was making an effort to control that anger, yes. She wasn't dumb enough to start a fight with her own brother whilst on security duty, yes. But she was upset with him.

And in his personal terms of importance, when choosing between an upset Daughter of Aphrodite and an upset little sister, better the devil you know. One hundred percent. Sister takes priority. He could even rationalize it that their shared bond meant that he had a much better shot of cooling her head than the almost total unknown of Ariana. When push came to shove, one girl simply [i]mattered[/i] much more than the other.

He had a feeling he would have eventually upset Ariana anyway, had she continued ignoring clearer and clearer signs. At some point, he would get patronizing and sarcastic. Dallas's influence was what he always blamed that on.

[color=ed1c24]"Wait,"[/color] he began, after what was only a beat in real time.

What could she have been upset about? Surely not rejecting her friend, she knew him too well. Danaye Harada had discussed the subject with him often, so there was no way she wasn't aware of his thoughts on the Olympus dating pool and a prospective dip within. That was right out. His sister was cheeky, his sister was stubborn, but his sister could read the writing on the wall. 

They could keep watch [i]together[/i], she said. They could [i]both[/i] hang out with their friends, she said. 

...

Yeah, that was what Dallas had said. Just hang out and punt anyone who starts something into the lake.

More specifically from her... [color=9e0b0f][i]"If you want to hang out with your friends tonight, I can hang out with mine. We can keep an eye on things together."[/i][/color]

Why [i]if?[/i]

[color=ed1c24]"Dal said you're free to hang out and enjoy the party just like the rest of us, remember?"[/color]

He glanced to Bekah for a brief moment, who inadvertently given him ammunition.

[color=ed1c24]"The whole idea's that you won't be busy, you just need to be around to kick any ass that needs it. It's not like I'd [i]have[/i] to take over for you, you know? Wouldn't be 'slacking' in the least, so there's nothing to worry about."[/color]