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[indent][indent][indent][color=gray][sub][right][color=#dc143c][b]Location:[/b][/color] Wayfarer's Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria[/right][/sub][/color]
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Leaves was already too much of a chatterbox for Graves's taste. She was one of those people who you could just nod and give a one word answer to and they'd keep on holding a conversation all by their lonesome. That was a lot for someone who spent most of their days alone. Then came the sight of a mammoth stampeding toward them, shouting at the top of her lungs. [color=dc143c]"Oh God,"[/color] he groaned. A hand moved up preemptively to massage a headache he was sure would come. It was weird: he could spend two hours knee-deep in combat without stressing at all, but those two just [i]talking[/i] made his head spin. If there was anywhere better to sit he would've gotten up and left.

They'd spent far too long sitting 'round, jerking each other off. He was anxious to be off. There was a whole new dungeon waiting out there to be conquered, and he'd get to be one of the first to plant the flag. He had to admit it was a romantic ideal. That-- and the loot-- were the only reason he had skin in the game. Nobody here mattered to him in the least.

Aaginim finally spoke for the first time. All eyes were drawn to him. This was it. Despite himself, Graves felt an excitable grin creep up along his face. The last details of the plan would be drawn up, groups would be divided, and they'd be on their way. 

He gave a smug glance over toward Rael when Aaginim reiterated a rule that was for her and [i]only[/i] her. It was almost impressive how many people she'd gotten to hate her. He had to wonder how, despite that rep, she kept ending up in raids; was she really that good? Or did everyone just keep buying into her bullshit hype?

Benkei wasn't a name Graves knew. That wasn't surprising- he only knew people who mattered, and there were staggeringly few of them. Hopefully he wasn't completely ass. Callouts, leadership, those weren't skills Graves would ever have. All he could hope for was someone that was decently competent and would [b]stay out of his way[/b]. Graves was an artist: he needed room to paint his masterpiece.

Things broke down when Aaginim started listing out the groups.

[color=dc143c][i]'No. No, no. No god damn way.'[/i][/color]

[i][color=D2D586]“Group B will be Benkei, Rael...Graves,...”[/color][/i]

Graves threw his hands in the air. [color=dc143c]"You bastard!"[/color] He didn't bother lowering his voice. Aaginim knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew exactly how Graves would feel about it, yet he went along with it anyway. Was he trying to get a dig in at Graves, or something? Did the two of them have beef that he didn't know about? He wasn't supposed to be an asshat. Aaginim was [i]good[/i]. He was supposedly one of the better raid leaders in Pariah. Even when his guild, Prophecy, had gone tits up, people like Einhart were always talking him up-- and Einhart didn't compliment you unless you deserved it.

So there's no way he fucked up. This was purposeful.

He leaned his back up against the wall, staring. Watching. Mulling over whether it was worth it to even continue.
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