[img]http://i.imgur.com/2uDBgEK.png[/img]
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[b][u]Thaum's Square:[/u][/b] 

Estelle’s fingers drummed along the hilt of her sword, as she sat atop the very edge of the fountain, her eyes peering around her surroundings for any sign of Marcus, Atlas, and their client Dr. Dream, to no avail. At first Estelle wasn’t too troubled, enjoying instead a variety of savoury treats and [url=http://www.laweekly.com/imager/mmm-chicken-balls/b/original/4215780/c470/002jff.jpg]small nibbles[/url] in place of a proper dinner. But as the minutes toiled, and no sign of any of three men appeared, worry and doubt began to set within the swordswoman’s heart. Something wasn’t right. Her fingers drummed along the top of her sword’s hilt quicker still. 

The rest of her companions didn’t seem quite as disturbed or upset as her, instead resorting to confusion and boredom as the hours passed, making up small talk amongst them instead to keep them busy. For some, they had apparently seen a talking, bouncing rabbit, but Estelle at the time had not, instead her thoughts had been focused solely on Marcus. She knew… knew there was something wrong. Originally she was going to walk up to Lute and ask him if his friend, Atlas, had a tendency to be late, but that wouldn’t excuse Marcus. And she knew him implicitly well enough to know that he would never be late, unless there was a good reason for it. And even then… even then there would be little to make him late. He’d always try to make it on time, no matter what.

Something was very, very wrong. 

“Big Sis?” Estelle was broken out of her reverie by Don, who looked towards her with concern. He could read Estelle’s expression, and sense the tension and anguish within. He smiled, flashing her a thumbs up. “Don’t worry, Big Sis! Mage Bro’s awesome, he can take care of himself! Remember Tabul? He got me, Josey and all my other bros out without a problem! He’ll be okay!”

Estelle looked back towards Don, and then smiled at his efforts. The worry dissipated from her shoulders, and when she next opened her eyes, they were replaced with another emotion altogether. “I’m not worried, Don.” Estelle began. Her fingers left her sword, clenching together in a tight fist raised in front of her face. “I’m mad! How dare Marcus be late! When he gets here I’m going to give him a big fat piece of… my… mind…”

What Estelle saw next took the words out of her mouth.