ain't nothin' but a hound dog

○○○○○ | ATTRACTION ○○○○○ | AFFECTION ○○○○○ | INTEREST ○○○○○ | LOYALTY ○○○○○ | TRUST

Information gathering is a just another run of the mill job in her old line of work. Yunaka's used to spending days stalking a place out, memorizing routines, memorizing faces, and picking up on the right things to say to get to where she needs to be. This is the same in principle, though with an outcome that hopefully won't be as grim as the previous ones.

Still…weird, isn't it?

Yunaka glances over at the two when prompted, only sparing Balthus's expression a brief glance before focusing on the village maiden instead. "Huh…you're sure she said peaceful, right? I had the chance to speak to them myself before we left and…well, there were no giant birds or anything like that, but she definitely told me things were rough here."

A whole town full of bandits, she'd said, just waiting to swindle you. Yunaka had walked in with her guard up, bracing for some kind of obvious ploy, but she had yet to see anything of the sort. In fact, most of the people here seemed more interested in leaving them alone.

…she wonders if the fact this guy is walking around shirtless and exposed has anything to do with that…

"We haven't had anything like that in the slightest!" The woman insists, glancing over from her to Balthus. Repeatedly. And very obviously. Geez… "Honest, this town's nothing but peaceful for most of the year. This festival is the most activity we ever see."

"Gotcha…" Why they would the different accounts be flying around? Yunaka frowns as she cocks her head to the side thoughtfully. Hmm…well there's a possibility, but she feels a little bad asking it directly in front of this woman just trying to live her life.

(unfortunately. how’s a guy supposed to get work done? Then again, she’s probably a better use of his time anyways.)

“It’s been fun, Miss. Sorry for all the trouble— dunno why anyone would be spreadin’ all sorts of lies, it’s making my noggin’ hurt.” A sad, despondent shake of his head follows, a little dramatic for the situation at hand. “Either way, we’ll figure it out. Appreciate what you’ve told us. You take care, alright?”

When they step away, Balthus lets out a long sigh with his arms crossed and brows furrowed to the point of casting shadows over his eyes. “Can’t stand people spreading rumors. It’s how others get caught up in messes too big for them to handle… and they don’t always end in good ways.” Goddess knows he’s heard a fair share about nobles and commoners alike, including his own house. “I’d rather not see this town get wrapped up in some kinda shitstorm they didn’t even start.”

Noble intents and noble desires, but certainly not enough of a plan to do anything about it.

“You think there’s something of worth here? Maybe some big shot trying to drive people out? Bad for business to hear so many terrible things. Can’t make a living, then you’re doomed.” It doesn’t make sense, not when he can’t pinpoint a reason. “But I’m hearin’ some other versions of the story, too. Some girl was whisperin’ something about a… a cougar around these parts?”

Now why would a cougar be here? It’s not an environment they’d particularly frequent, not so close to bustling human settlements.

“Said she felt bad for the poor young guy that got hurt by it.”

awkward doesn't begin to describe it. he's here, and so is she. she knew she'd have to face him at some point. she just hadn't expected it to be today. and she was without picnic basket, which would have been full of the very scrumptious and poison-free offerings she had been hoping to pacify him with for all of the trouble.

“i-i'm sorry. really, i am.” she is. but yuri said it would be fine. and yuri is always right, except for when they're either being too mean to themself or way too nice to her. did letting her borrow their bed count as being too nice to her? well, what if it meant they stole someone else's?

the someone else is right in front of her. he is five times her size (possibly an exaggeration—she can't even look up from his shoes, hunched into herself, wringing her anxious hands) and he must be out for revenge. he has to be. he's a billion feet tall. his shamefully bare muscles are still humongous enough to crush her into a light purple paste. he's...

“he's gonna grind my bones into bread and boil meeeee!” she abruptly wails into her hands, giving a shrill voice to her inner thoughts without even realizing. “nooooooo!”

now, how despicable does this look from the outside? a tiny thing with the knocking knees of a newborn foal, backed up against a wall, crying in a looming giant's shadow? baltie baby's a big man, you see. the king of grappling gets shot more than a few disgusted glances by several passersby, even moreso when bernadetta collapses to her knees.

... Provided those in need of counseling heed the advice.

The tight time frame for the shipment forced the convoy to make a brash decision; a short cut through the side of a mountain via an old tunnel. Nyx made sure to warn her fellow guards about potential cave-ins and to properly prepare, but she knew not to meddle too much with fate, lest she wants an unpredictable outcome.

Despite her cautionary advice, only a few guards prepared well, the others dismissing her advice as childish worries. So when the rumble of laughter turned to the thunder of falling rocks, Nyx's expression only paled, dreading the long hours stuck with this brutish bunch.

Her eyes turn to a fellow guard sent by the monastery. One seeming in desperate need of coin. After all, why else would you not have a shirt on during an escort mission.

"You," she says, staring upwards at a man two feet taller than herself, offering him a pickaxe.

"Fortune says that you here are the most capable when it comes to playing with dirt," And most vexing when it came to conversing.

"Let us see if all that training is just for show."

Well, THIS guy is certainly not gonna let a single drop go to waste. It only makes complete perfect sense to scarf down the dishes offered for judgment, and Balthus can give no true critique because the only thing coming out of his food-stuffed mouth is: “ISH GHOOD. MMH.” Turns out that’s great for a chef’s self-esteem, but not very good for ranking winners in a competition. Either way, he doesn’t seem perturbed in the slightest, instead completely satisfied by this free all-you-can-eat buffet.

At least until about 20 minutes pass. Then his stomach begins to rumble and his palms begin to sweat. Maybe there was a little too much dairy in those plates? Too much cream? Cheese?

Which leads to him slumped over a trashcan, hurling dramatically with plenty of fanfare in the form of OUUUGGH and AUURGH. He’s paler than a sheet of paper, and when he lifts his head, he sees an unfamiliar face lingering around that he extends a shaky hand towards.

“Hey…. H-hey, pal. Think you could give me a— ough— hand? I’m….”

A wave of dizziness has him flopping to the side into the bushes, groaning.

“Don’t— don’t eat the food, man. I’m not even lactose intolerant and it’s killin’ me. KILLIN’ me. Oh…”

Deep breath. She shall remain the epitome of calm. She shan't cause any scenes today.

Which might be easier to do than expected. As much as being transported somewhere unfamiliar is... nicer words fail her, it is infuriating.

But as infuriating as it may be, it is quite a pleasant place they have found themselves in. A lovely seaside location, refreshing breeze, the orb even gave her an outfit for the occasion! A lovely black one-piece swimming costume with frills just as colourful and jagged as the edges of her usual dress, snazzy shades like the ones Pinet had back at the Somniel, and a lovely lace parasol to boot!

Briefly, she considers testing how efficient of a weapon the parasol would make, but surely there shall be no need for that.

Something she finds herself certain of as the smell of meat and sound of revelry hits her ears; why, it is not a mere seaside location they find themselves in, it feels almost like Solm itself! She can picture herself alongside the Boss and Merrin now, dancing all their worries away around the campfire.

How's she supposed to stay mad at the big lug now?

She gives the others a smile, most excited now to make the most of the time they've been granted here.

"I am Panette, a sentinel of Solm. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, everyone." She bows, before locking her gaze with the big guy's, a grin forming on her face.

"I ought to warn you; I am not one to lose a game of chicken, if we are to play seriously." At the very least, not to a guy like him. Losing to the lady Lachesis (who had the common courtesy to introduce herself, unlike the others) would be tolerable.

baltie baby's still just a man, you see. a man who just has to have what he wants when he wants it, ever indulgent to his own detriment. today it's the horse he picks, tomorrow it's a shiny coin. the day after that, it'll be the once-in-a-lifetime coolest pair of gauntlets he'll swear he'll ever lay eyes on in this life, never mind how many times the big bad wolf ends up crying wolf himself.

from the peace of her saddle, hapi just chews on the noa fruit she's holding while she watches the full spectacle unravel. her mount stares along in like fashion, a sprig of hay undulating from the corner of its snout. aaand... sploosh. there it is.

all right. looks like the mud's finally settled. and for that matter, good thing it was her turn with the weird hat balthus had insisted on sharing between their heads for the occasion. hapi tosses the rest of her fruit in front of her, letting her companion catch it from the air with a satisfied snort.

“wow. yours was a mare, right? not even she wanted you.” figures. big baltie didn't just underestimate his weight; he didn't even recognize the touch of a female. a little tut from hapi and her mount starts trotting forward—but while she does tug her reins to slow beside her ‘unhorsed’ friend, she doesn't come to a halt.

“i'd let you ride with, but i don't want you getting me all gross and muddy.” and she's not telling him to strip. ew. not that he even had on a shirt beneath that coat to have fended off a little more of the grime. “get those steps in, b. that flower's as good as gone, but i'm not footing your bill.”

what's another debt on his head, she could have said, but no. (no, truthfully, she'd never leave balthus in the dust.)

"We know what you did last night. We have proof, and we'll spread it to everyone you know if you don't bring the requested amount of gold. Midnight. 10,000 gold. The location is on the back."

a rhetorical question, of course. they start ticking their fingers up one by one without waiting for an answer. “you gambled away all your gold and then some and now you’re in debt. you gambled away all of someone else’s gold and then some and now you’re in debt—with a very angry collector after your head, no doubt. you made a bet with someone you shouldn’t have and now you’ve landed yourself on their bad side and the bad end of their very pointy blade.”

all of it is so typically balthus—and that’s the reason that yuri doesn’t believe any of them are actually true. bounty hunters after his head is just another tuesday, after all. nothing that would give them cause to raise a brow at him any higher than they usually do.

crossing their arms, their head slants to rest against the doorway. whatever the truth of the matter may be, it doesn’t really matter. balthus likely knows this well enough to have come knocking on their door: yuri leclerc takes care of their own, come hell or high water.