#classybrawler

The look he passes cannot be called a sad one, yet the remorse is unmistakeable for reasons unknown as he beckons for her to come closer to the roaring bonfire. He knows this spiral of thoughts all too well, a sequence that flows lower and lower in a spiral of self-doubt until nought but the past remains to be consumed by it. It's a curse, no one of magic but of the mind as it burns, and so he resolves to alleviate it in whichever way is open to him. Oifey cannot claim to be a counselor, yet ailments of the mind are a familiar thing for those who have grown accustomed to war and it's price as he reaches for the thermos pilfered from a colleague.

"Tea?" He doesn't wait for an answer, unscrewing the cap and pouring the dark liquid into it as the young woman settles beside him. He does not judge for doubt, for doubt is oh so common after war, as he offers the cup. "An unpleasant feeling, isn't it? That lingering ember of doubt that maybe if you had've been a few hours faster a family would still have their homes, perhaps a father would have come home if we had of been just a hair faster, an ounce stronger..."

A sigh, steel in his gaze as his head turns, outstretching an arm to pat the young warrior on her shoulder. "Do you know what that makes you Panette? Human, as human as any other. Even now I remember the face of every villager and towns person I met travelling one edge of the continent to the other, you know, always wondering what if..."

“You are putting up quite the good fight! However, I fear it may not be enough.” Panette says, a friendly smirk on her face. The blue haired lad has been exactly the kind of fight she was hoping to get out of this friendly competition; good, solid, not giving in too easily. It ain’t exhilarating if one of the competitors gives in like a wet noodle, after all.

All that being said, however, she seems to have gotten him on the ropes, and with one last push, she emerges victorious.

Letting go of his hand, she offers up her other one for a friendly handshake.

“Well matched. If you would ever like a rematch, I would be most amenable to doing so.”

[Arm wrestling result: 3]

Lex thought himself pretty strong. Given just how he towered over this girl, he didn't quite think this would be a fair competition. If she wanted to try, though, she was welcome to it. He'd said something to that effect before they began their little contest, which probably should have been the first warning sign to Lex. Overconfidence like that could only end one way. He'd been on the receiving end of it more than once. If it was comedically appropriate for him to lose, that was what always seemed to happen. Funny how that worked.

Considering how many times he had been bested in combat by Ayra, Lex really should have known not to underestimate someone in a physical contest like this. This redheaded goth chick hardly looked like she was the strongest person in the world, but that didn't mean she didn't have it in her to succeed. She probably wouldn't take on a challenge like this if she weren't at least kind of strong. That should have been the second warning sign to Lex. Unfortunately, he missed both of those red flags.

Not only did she best him, but Lex was so taken by surprise when she suddenly overcame him that he completely lost his balance. He'd been sitting down, but all of the sudden he found his entire body reeling as his arm was pushed towards the table. His hand wasn't pinned so much as it was removed from Panette's grasp entirely as Lex tumbled to the ground beside the table they were using. He sprang back up almost immediately; nothing was wounded but his pride, and he barely had any of that to begin with.

"Well matched?" Lex laughed, a bit red in the face but smiling nonetheless. "Lady, you kicked my ass! I don't think it was well matched at all. You're way outta my league. Let's go again. I'm gonna win this time, I swear!"

Less people are awake at night, less noise that does not come from waves crashing against the hull and the creaking of wood. Fewer distractions, too. Rinea is in the middle of an epic tale brewing inside her imagination — two women, pirates by trade, engaged in a clash of ideals and swords atop one of the rigging ropes while their vessel goes down in flames under them.

Her two characters are about to embrace in mutually caused death when the chapter ends abruptly on a shiphanger.

A small sigh escapes her and she turns to reassure a fellow night owl. Her mouth opens and —

Rinea forgets it all. Gets over it. The short distance between women is crossed in a flash of blue and Rinea takes the hands of her newly found inspiration, eyes big and full of wonder. The girl's outfit and hair and accessories are so... So...

"Panette! How nice to see you again!" She greets her warmly, holding out an orange tulip for her. "How have you been darling? Your studies are going well I take?"

Camilla listens intently as Panette gives her polite answers, all the while smiling.

"Panette!"

Erk had wandered off to get some food for the two of them, and Serra happened to be standing near the chocolate table... which is whereabouts she sees beautiful Panette. "Ohmigosh, you look, like, so stunning! Look at you! Wow... My boyfriend abandoned me for the moment, come, sit with me! Let's share some chocolate and flowers and talk!"

Panette doesn't truly have a choice in the matter...

In moment's time, Serra's found two little chairs tucked away, and is offering Panette one of her orchids and opening their chocolate box to find...

It's. It's half full. The look on Serra's face falls into disgusted.

"Um... Has someone else eaten out of this box before us?"

Without another word, she passes it on a table next to them. She's no longer in the state of her life where she needs to go dumpster diving for food. Best to leave that behind...

"Nevermind... Anyway, hi! You look so nice! Are you here with anyone tonight? I'm here with my boyfriend, as I said... Erk, did I mention? What about you?"

For once, though, they match! Serra, too, is wearing black. Head to toe, except for some ribbons accentuating her delicate dress, and dark make-up dots her eyes and lips. She smiles boldly.

"Greetings Caspar!" Panette gives him a cheerful smile after managing to finally flag him down in the dimmed monastery.

"The corn your lands have provided truly is incredible! I have seasoned it in quite a delicious way with my spices, would you care to try?" She asks, opening up a bag of corn pops and illuminating the both of them with a faint, red glow.

“Whoa, did you bring in your own?”

He’s gotta try a bite, obviously!

“Oh, wow, that’s-” Even words that short fail him for a couple seconds, dissolving into a full on coughing fit. His eyes are watery by the time he recovers. “...Intense!”

The wet sheen in his eyes only makes his expression all the brighter. His mouth feels like it’s on fire. It’s awesome.

In the ebb and flow of various dance numbers, Mauvier flits in and out of the cloying crowd. The more erratic, energetic dances, he avoids; he's simply not nimble enough to trust himself to keep up without stepping on a slew of innocent feet.

This one, though...it feels familiar in a hazy sort of way, like something he heard through the mists beyond Destinea Cathedral on the less-dreary of his days in Elusia. It's a somber sort of nostalgia, but he decides to give himself over to it.

He doesn't necessarily expect Panette, of all people, to be attuned to such an old-timey one-two step. He might have expected her to tear up the floor during a song geared toward the younger and bolder of the crowd. Yet, here she is; a lone wolf on the dune, her fangs rendered inert.

Truth be told, it has been a while since Panette has given another woman flowers. Still, this is a game about making new bonds and keeping old ones going strong, and she has just noticed a lady whose appearance pairs quite well with some of the flowers.

Paying the gold for a few of them in a modest bouquet, she quickly moves through the crowd in order to not lose the woman. Catching up with her, she holds up the glowing, pale purple flowers as she attempts to get her attention.

“Excuse me, forgive me for the intrusion, but I had spotted you whilst looking around near the flower stall, and I thought these flowers would be quite a lovely fit for you.” She gives her a smile, hoping the lady shall accept the blossoms.

“Usually I would not immediately give someone flowers without getting to know them first, however as this is an event meant to facilitate new friendships among other things, I figured I could make an exception.” She chuckles.

“I am Panette, it is a pleasure to meet you.” She holds her other hand out in hopes of a handshake to seal this meeting.

To be approached at all is a shock in and of itself; but it’s a precious one, something Karla carefully cradles, along with the flowers proffered to her with a kind greeting. The girl has this vague sort of familiarity to her — as though maybe Karla’s passed her often in the town, or they’re classmates, or something or the other.

“… I’m Karla,” she answers; a relatively small response to all she’s received in such a short amount of time. Flowers. Flowers from a stranger. She’s never been given such a thing — had been the one to give, so many, plucked from the fields, to family members — and now here, the most beautiful ones she had ever seen…