I may be a dreamer ...

Suzy looks offended at the rider’s question, her expression knotting as she turns back to him (she’d been offended at Wylan first, but who isn’t). Her tongue clicks and she shakes her head. “I can be as quick or take as much time as you need. What you get if I go fast is what you get. Just lettin’ you know. You got a time limit you best let me know.” There’s a touch of impatience on her features, though the reason why may not be as obvious as one may think.

Wylan, meanwhile, is feeling left out. Two people he’s fancying to bother are caught up in actual conversation and there’s a growing frustration in his expression as he sets back against the wall again. Twice rejected. Those familiar to Wylan’s typical behavior would be concerned in such a situation. Perhaps these two are properly equipped to handle him. The gladiator cocks his head to the side and clears his throat.

“Wouldn’t have guessed you for a mama’s boy. Damn. You really are like my buddy from back in Valm… if you weren’t so scrawny I’d guess you were him.”

Many factors had to be considered when it came to his saddle. Could Minerva be contained without it? Yes. Would she get antsy if she couldn’t go for a flight? Perhaps, but it was nothing that treats couldn’t temper. 

“I’m in no hurry,” he says after a moment of consideration. He fixes her with another unseen stare before Wylan’s comment reaches his ears. A vein in the rider’s neck twitches before he turns to look at the gladiator.

“Scrawny?” His tone borders on insulted as he looks Wylan up and down. Between the two, the one who dealt with wyverns all day was probably the less scrawny one. “I can assure you that scrawny is not a good adjective to describe me. Dealing with wyverns has left me anything but.”

“I don’t want to be that person, but these voting things are usually a sign that there’s a stereotype that’s taken over. And this time you want me to vote for someone most people consider to be a bad guy?” 

She’s dealt with the bunny costumes twice by now. She could handle Xander, she could handle Alfonse, but…Bruno, of all people, in a bunny costume? The summoner stood motionless and silent for a moment, her eyes wide. Until…the corners of her lips twitched once, and then once more. And then…

“YOU?!” Vespera blurted out with a guffaw, hunched over as she began laughing madly. So much so that her eyes watered, but eventually she calmed down, a few stray giggles falling out as she covered her mouth with one hand. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just…I didn’t expect you to be joining in the festival along with Veronica; now that girl I can see getting into costume like this. I-I guess, it’s kinda nice that you’re doing it with your little sister, though?” She shrugged, still trying to suppress her laughter over the bunny eared-hat the Emblian prince wore.

The hand that isn’t clutching his ridiculous staff comes up so that he can run it down his face. News among summoners traveled deathly fast, and if he’d already been greeted by hearty chuckles by one, he could only imagine how much fun other such summoners might have at his expense.

Not that it mattered. He was here for a reason, and by chance that reason left him with some time to bond with his sister. So sue him. 

“Veronica is here, in costume, at my request. I thought maybe she’d enjoy doing something very different for a change. I’m here because I’m looking for something, plain and simple.” And you’re obviously here to get a laugh, he concludes as an afterthought.

“If you’re Loki, go away. Actually you can probably go away even if you’re not Loki. I don’t have time for chatter or I’m going to miss my chance.”

Someone somewhere is laughing however, because of course he runs into a summoner. Shit.

“Summoner,” he says simply. “I can explain.”

& FERN

The gladiator doesn’t say anything in response to that, though there’s a show that he’s been intrigued by the rider’s devotion to their gear. Such a thing was surely admirable, and yet another reminder of his old friend back in Valm. It’s begging the question if the two knew one another. Not hard enough, however, to be uttered just yet. Rather than a quip he opts to observe.

Suzy lifts a solitary brow at the saddle, an emphasized “huh!” as she looks it over, seasoned eyes noting the various trims and rivets as well as the aforementioned etchings. Whether she’s impressed with the craftsmanship or just how much it has been through is up to the judgement of Gerome. Her brief observation complete she wrenches her lip and nods.

“Well, kid, I don’t do a lot of work with wyvern saddles, but I can put something good together for ya. Hmm, but you won’t be able to keep this piece with the etchings on it, see here-” She directs his attention to the seam where the etched piece of leather joins up with the rest of the saddle. “This right here is starting to tear, the hide is starting to dry rot. Not a good thing to bet on when you’re up in the air, tell you that much. I’ll cut it clean from the rest of the saddle and get you a new saddle… say….”

The girl takes a moment to do some mental math, wincing an eye closed as her head cants to the side. “…thousand gold if you’re fine with me reusing the old metal loops and ribs. Hnnnn, and another three hundred if it’s all new.”

“That’s less than you charged for my new horse saddle.” Wylan asks, a bit put off and more than slightly incredulous. Suzy plain ignores him.

It wasn’t good etiquette to make quips at the person examining your gear, but Gerome can’t help but wonder if she can tell how old the saddle is. Minerva had been through a lot up until now: the fight to end Walhart’s conquest, the first battle against Grima, surviving the ruined future, defeating Walhart a second time, and Grima’s actual defeat. Her saddle spanned his lifetime, plus extra. The condition it was in (however depressing) was impressive.

“Save the etchings. Even if they can’t be reattached, at least I’ll get to keep them.” If the new saddle was anything like the old one, he should be able to restart his saddle etching trend anyway. Maybe he could find something to do with the old ones.

If he hears Wylan quip behind him, he ignores it. His mouth jerks up for a moment in an almost smirk however, but it’s short lived before he’s back to his stoic self. Did the man behind know that people had risked their lives for this world? Did he know that complaining about a saddle cost made him sound entitled? Probably not.

[ I’m going to roll with my own first summon because I’m lazy. The first person Pat summoned was a redhead who introduced himself as Roy, from Elibe. This boy was followed shortly after by purple-haired woman on a wyvern who introduced themselves as Camilla.

Desperate to try their new toy, they could only afford to summon two people. ]