[Luna]

Luna Neaucant walks over to the man across from her, hefting down a large rucksack. Inside were strangely tinted manacles and armbands. “It took some trying, but I managed to locate some aetheric dampeners about your size. This should do about what you're desiring.” she says, walking back to her spot.

[Gair]

Gair Brandt kneels down and scoops up two pairs of manacles from the sack and kicks the rest aside, clapping one side to an arm and another on a singular leg. Letting the chains dangle from his arm, “Shouldn't get in the way overmuch, just a precaution. You know what to do if I lose myself in it.” He shoulders off his weapon now, floruishing it as he assumes a stance. With a little focus from the man, a dark trail of fire follows behind his weapon.

[Luna]

Luna Neaucant draws her own weapon and shield, taking a defensive stance. “I know all too well, but I pray to Halone it is not necessary.” she says, raising her shield in front of her. “Commence when you please.” she says, steeling herself.

[Gair]

“You of anyone I know would weather it, anyhow..” Gair takes a deep breath, his countenance sours as he begins to find his more fury-charged focus. The black fire licking at his weapon growing only faintly stronger as he lashes a slash from his position, a horizontal wave that projects a dark energy right for Luna. Following in close to threaten her with his actual sword.

[Luna]

Luna puts a foot backward and lowers her stance, ducking under the oncoming wave of DAHKNESS. She puts up her shield and thrusts it towards the man's compensation-sized blade, shoving it to the side with a swipe and swinging the flat of her blade against his side.

[Gair]

Gair drops a hand off his greatsword, holding the larger weapon aloft with one hand with relative ease. “Not.. bad!” At being threatened by Luna's swipe on his side, the free hand courses with a fistful of pulsing dark aether. Which he directs in a small blast to deflect the weapon away.

[Luna]

Luna's weapon flies away from the man's side as she holds her grip firm on it. She takes the chance to throw her shield arm behind her, pinning the blade flat against her back. She releases her grip and rotates her hand, grabbing the weapon once more by the hilt, which she throws forward towards the man's gut with no small amount of force.

[Gair]

Gair looked more amazed he actually deflected a blow with his own raw aether, his fanfare was short lived as he lets out the oofiest of oofs when that hilt connects with his gut. The highlander staggers off and to the side a step and twists his greatsword in his grip, with a howl of effort he accelerates his weapon alarmingly fast. Trailed by more edgy shadow, fully intent to smack the outer edge of Luna's shield away and land a heavy blow.

[Luna]

Luna finds herself unable to react quickly enough as the man seems to break the very laws of physics in order to bring a greatsword as if it were propelled by jets. The blade pushes her shield to the side as the dark aether crackles as it trails. As if concealed by the shadowy cloud of energy, she does not notice the follow up as the blade impacts, cutting into her cloth chestpiece but thankfully being thwarted by the chain underneath enough to avoid any more than some stagger.

[Gair]

Gair twists his weapon and presents the tip to her torso, showing his advantage this exchange before pulling back. Though no blood has been spilled yet, there is a distinct scent of it and iron that pervades the area now as the exchange goes on and on.

[Luna]

Luna collects herself quickly enough to throw her shield arm out, grabbing the greatsword by the end of it's blade. Caught in her gauntleted hand, she wrenches towards herself with her considerable strength, yanking blade and man forward. She reels her head back to meet Gair's with a bash. “Do not give up your advantage so easily, Chevalier Noir!”

[Gair]

“Oh, you WANT ruthless?” Gair lunges forward as he lets himself get yanked forward, eager to crash heads with Luna like the oaf he is. Neither truly gaining any ground, but he isn't just going to fight force with force. His left shoots for Luna's own sword, grasping it by the base of the blade. Giving it a twist and a pull as he abandons his own sword to slam his fist on Luna's shield with explosive force. Intent on disarming her by driving her back and grasping her sword.

[Luna]

Luna feels the eruption of energy impact her shield, pushing her back a solid foot as dirt pushes up behind her boots. Her sword is wrenched away from her as it happens though she is quick to let go. She uses her newly created spacing to lower her stance, rushing forward to grasp Gair by his waist. She tenses her entire body as she goes to lift him clear of the ground and bring him to the ground behind her.

[Gair]

Gair's own inner darkness has no real means to help him grapple, or at the least any means he can think of right now. Steel and weapons clatter down onto the dusty silt of Thanalan, a grunt of pain as his entire world goes upside down and he finds himself flat on his back. Both hands held up as he conceeds, “Alright, alright! I think.. that's as much as I can take for now.”

[Luna]

Luna stands straight once more after having bent backwards to Suplex an immigrant, taking a moment before turning back around to him. “Your darkness does not seem to supply much ability once your foe is in such tight proximity.” she says, offering a hand to help him back up.

[Gair]

Gair takes the hand offered and comes to his feet. “It's not exactly that, I've just had the luxury of cuttin' loose against larger things I mean to kill.” He dusts himself off, his hands resting on his sword belt. “It's a little frightenin', I'll not lie.”

[Luna]

“Perhaps you need such training more than I thought. If you are so used to fighting monstrosities and beasts, you need to learn how to combat humans once more. Perhaps without those one day.” she says, gesturing to the dampeners. “You might as well shed those for now.”

[Gair]

“Or even someone I do not intend to actually cut.” Gair indicates the tabard he ripped up with his greatsword with a pointed finger. “Last thing I wanna do is hurt my sparrin' partner, or worse, hurt then and then succumb.” He trails around and hooks his foot under his greatsword, kicking it up into his hand.

[Luna]

“This incision is a proof more of your hesitation. This should be a wound that brought me low, not a mere annoyance. I appreciate how you do not wish to injure me, but to give up such an advantage so easily.” she says with a sigh.

[Gair]

Gair scratches his chin. “Well.. it's progress of some kind.” He relents with a shrug, not wholly satisfied himself. “Alas, such a tussle has left me somewhat spent. Should we head back and hang our swords up?”

[Luna]

“I believe so. I shall produce some earned energy in some meats prepared, if you desire.” she admits, refastening her gear after picking it up.

[Gair]

“All that distance?” Gair grunts. “Lets just pick up something quick at the markets and drag it to my place.”

[Luna]

“Fine by me. I shall ply my pan skills in your apartment then.”

[Gair]

Gair slides off his baldric and props the weapon right against the entryway. “Theeeere we are.” And with a couple haphazard clicks, he unburdens himself of most of his torso armor.

[Luna]

Luna carries the bag of groceries to the counter near the stove, sorting through it idly. “I hope you are in the mood for some chicken.” she says, removing her gauntlets carefully.

[Gair]

“If it's meat, I'm in the mood for it.” Gair steps up to the counter, snatching a bottle of rum off it it before he backpedals and jumps over the back of the couch, sprawling across it before he comes to a seated position.

[Luna]

“Must you drink already? I did not take you for a daydrinker.” she says, laying out the fowl flesh upon a cutting board. She picks up a knife and begins slicing.

[Gair]

Gair takes a swig by the time Luna already complains about his habits. “It's just a little bit, calm yourself.” He sets the bottle down on the table in front of him. “So, how was havin' the kits over?”

[Luna]

“It was a bit enlightening, I suppose. I did not expect to speak of such things in front of her children. They are still so young.” she says idly, using practiced and powerful slices, cutting the chicken handily.

[Gair]

Gair stretches languidly and lounges back on the couch. “Thasri and Natha, right?” He bobs his head. “Gyr Abania is a rough place, Tera still has that old tribal mentality where she ain't gonna spare the kids from the truth, no matter how ugly. Hell, she saw what Garlemald did to her tribe..”

[Luna]

“Yes, Miss A'tasri and Miss A'natha. I suppose I can see the reasoning in her mind to inform her children of the harshities of war, but I am not sure how I feel about it.” she says. There is the sound of an errant slice as she cuts into her finger. She quickly stops her slicing, looking at the cut silently.

[Gair]

“Tasri's a smart girl, and.. well, Natha likely didn't catch any of it anyhow.” After a pause, he asks. “I hope it was helpful, then?”

[Luna]

Luna does not respond, still gaze-locked on her finger as the blood begins to pool and slowly flow out. She has the forethought enough to move the chicken far away from her hand with the other, continuing to stare down, entranced by her mistake.

[Gair]

Belatedly, Gair only just now notices that Luna has been staring intently at something from his distant perch on the couch. “Luna?” He asks, slipping up and off of the couch. It takes a moment for him to notice the blood on the chopping block. “Good thing we ain' squeamish around blood..” And he busies himself stepping passed the partitioned wall, rifling through his desk for some bandages and ointment. “Just hold it there, lass, I'll bind it!”

[Luna]

“I… That's never happened before…” she says as if watching herself from afar. She holds her cut hand up to her face, squeezing tightly. More blood is pushed out from the wound as she squeezes. “Huh.” she says as if amazed, looking at her hand still.

[Gair]

“We all do it.” Gair tells her as he makes his way to the small kitchen, bearing a container with some poultice and bandages. “Miyuki made this, does miracles for cuts! She threw it at me because of all the times I'd ask her to tend every little cut.” There was a twinge of sadness in his voice. His finger dips into the poultice, lathering the tip with a generous glob that he motions to dab over the cut. “It'll stay the bleedin and keep it from festering, give me your hand.” He demands, holding out his free one.

[Luna]

“I…” she says distantly as she allows the man to apply the salve. “Thank you.” she says just as distantly. “I've… I've never made a mistake like that with cooking. It's… so simple.” she says slowly as if completely thrown off by the whole ordeal.

[Gair]

“Maybe the spar took more out of you than you thought.” Gair would take the Yetis hand and do his handiwork, lathering on a generous layer of the gray-green poultice. After he was done dealing the wound, he would set to the task of wrapping said finger up in a bandage. “Perhaps you should sit down and I'll finish up the bird for us.”

[Luna]

“No, no. I can… I can do it.” she said, slowly coming back to her senses seemingly. “I don't know what happened, it is as if I… what do you say? 'Zoned out'? Is that right?” she asks hazily.

[Gair]

“At least let me cut the chicken up.” Gair plucks up the kitchen knife after he wete the poultice and bandages aside. “Elsewise I'll kiss your boo-boo.” The gruff man threatens good-naturedly. “That's what A'tera would do, anyhow.”

[Luna]

The woman barely even reacts to the man's threat as she departs the kitchen, having a seat on the couch. She's lost in her thoughts once more, just looking at the now wrapped finger. “Right, I wouldn't want that…”

[Gair]

The man wasn't a total loss at cooking simple things like meat, slicing it into cuts that were perhaps a little thick. Taking over some, he begins to transfer the meaty cuts into a bowl filled with oil and spices, coating them in that unhealthy tastiness. “Probably not.” After a pause, he asks. “What's got you in such a state?”

[Luna]

“I'm not sure. I am not suffering any ailment or injury. Nothing was distracting me - speech is surely not enough for such a mistake. I suppose I was thinking as well, perhaps I was caught off guard by my own thoughts…” She muses.

[Gair]

Gair takes a moment to prepare a second bowl: tearing up and crumbling a copious amount of bread into it. Which he begins to tumble around and cover every conceivable ilm of that oily chicken in. “Was it something A'tera said?”

[Luna]

Luna pauses in thought, hand to her chin. “I suppose some of what she said has stuck in my mind. It's caused me to think about things that have lay dormant for quite some time.”

[Gair]

After thoroughly breading that chicken, Gair transfers the thickly cut strips onto a pan. The light crackling and popping of meat on a hot surface begins to fill the modest apartment. “Right, you wanted to speak with her about.. relationship things, aye?”

[Luna]

“Well, originally it was to ask about 'romance' and such, but it took a much darker turn. She began to ask questions about my past and times as a young lass in Ishgard. With her children there, even.”

[Gair]

Gair bobs his head once over at Luna and abandons the chicken for the moment as it sears delightfully on the open pan. “I'd wager she saw a connection there, in a way. But she knows better than I, wise beyond her years, and she's already got many.”

[Luna]

“I daresay her children do not suffer the indignities that I did, nor would I allow them to even experience a fragment of it. I would hope no true connection can be found betwixt myself and her brood.” she laments.

[Gair]

“I'd meant between your past and your issue with romance and sex now.” Gair comments rather pointedly. As the chicken continues to sizzle and pop in the pan, the Highlanders brow lofts some. “Which confuses me, I'd get having the deed being ruined.. but not romantic love.”

[Luna]

Luna visibly winces at the word sex, drawing her head back slightly. “Must you be so crass.” she says. “Besides, it's not as simple as that. I only told you a small fragment of what occurred when I was young.” she says with a hollow tone.

[Gair]

“It's not crass if that's exactly what it is, you'd say that even if I used another word.” The Highlander complains right back as he uses a knife to toss and turn the skillet full of meat intended for the two. “I'd hardly known it could get worse, most bastards stop after using and branding little girls.”

[Luna]

“Would you consider it worse, then, that he had me convinced we were in love?” she asks, not looking up. She exhales a heavy sigh on remembering, disappointed with herself. “As if I was to be his blushing bride. I was but a child.”

[Gair]

Being among the myriad knives, Gair plunges one of his into the cutting board onto his right at Luna's news. “Are there any next of kin I can carve up, you're certain this bastard is dead?”

[Luna]

“I can not say for certain, it is not something I search out texts for. But I have not heard the name often in quite some time, so presumably he is at the least not active.” She says while finally looking over at the man.

[Gair]

Rather pointedly does Gair dish out the chicken, perhaps needlessly mincing it into smaller slices than before. Not quite losing eye contact with Luna as he asks a cold, “What's his name, then? A bloody duel sounds like it'd be his just desserts, or a chestful of lead shot.”

[Luna]

The woman just sighs. “Lafont Neaucant. But I ask that you do not pursue him. I do not need attention brought to him and by proxy myself. I have no desire to deal with the jeers and reminders of the nicknames I was saddled with back then.” She barely watches the chicken given to her as she speaks, concerned about the possible outcome.

[Gair]

“Lafont, he'll choke on three feet of iron.” Gair tells Luna flatly, plucking up some meat and downing it rather quickly. “And why shouldn't we call this beast what he is? Knights can't turn away when the gauntlet is thrown, and I'll throw it right into his face.”

[Luna]

“Gair, I demand you do no such thing!” she replies with no small amount of conviction. Her eyes and to a small degree her expression betrays her tone, however. There is a flicker of fear amongst her. “To make anything out of that shadow's remaining life would be to invite investigation upon him. To force open the long-shut wounds of the young ward he took upon. I know not how I ever severed the chain betwixt myself and Lafont and carved out a life and respect in the temple, nor do I have any desire to find out.” It could be possible to detect the falsehood in her statements - that the wound was long closed. She had merely buried it, pushing it down until the fester and malignance could no longer affect her outwardly.

[Gair]

“No duel, then.” Gair relents at her distress and fear, he was foolhardy, but what he suggests is even moreso. “Noble men go on rides outside of the city proper all the time, nobody would be the wiser if an armored brigand appeared and slew him.” After a pause, he hastens to add. “And not harm the honorable fellows that are his escort.. permanently.”

[Luna]

There is a pregnant pause as Luna stares at Gair, her demeanor unchanged. “I… have heard no reports of such a vicious brigand. Nor do I wish to. But if I did, I would have to deal with such a threat. Whether I want to… or not.” she speaks cryptically, though she knows he would understand what she meant.

[Gair]

Gair wasn't even eating at this point, just staring down at the food between them. “Then that is where our justice differs, Luna. If he wont be dispensed with in the light of law, then a darker method is made necessary.”

[Luna]

Another pause lingers as the woman fights with herself internally. “I… can not say I would be upset to find out he had suffered far from the shielded walls of Ishgard. It would be unfortunate. But I repeat and assure you. I have heard NO such reports. I…. I pray that it will remain so.” she affirms, the idea of even allowing harm to come to someone by inaction causing her discomfort. “He…. Even he does not deserve such a fate…” she says, unsure if she truly believes it herself, the tether forged so long ago still holding.

[Gair]

“Not yet, at least.” Gair tells Luna candidly. His attentions falling to the food on his plate, a fork jabbed into some savory chicken before he gobbles the bit of meat up. “Save a prayer for their souls, they'll have need of mercy in death.”

[Luna]

The woman looks down at her own food, picking up a fork and lightly impaling a chunk. “I…. Would that you knew the number of prayers I have offered skyward to The Fury to cleanse his soul. Now, and then. He has a hold over me even unto this day, I fear.” she says, her tone turning conflicted.

[Gair]

In the spirit of turning the conversation away from doom and gloom. “That said, all I've managed is to blow a whole hell of a lot of hot air.” After a pause, he tells Luna. “You know as well as I he deserves three fulms of steel.”

[Luna]

She brings the be-chickened fork to her lips and partakes, using the time to pause and think. After she is done, she turns back to the man. “Hot air is definitely a specialty of yours. Of course I know this man deserves the wicked bite of the blade. But… Even now he invades my dreams such as a soul bent on chaos. I still find myself in an illusion conjured by my childhood self. Of being a doting woman, wed to a man and preparing meals and a home for his return upon the slumber of night.”

[Gair]

“There's nothing wrong with a woman who choses such a life,” Gair starts, his narrowing at he sits back and settles in his year-worn couch. The thought finished with his normally deep tones, “But it must be made by a woman, not a girl at the mercy of her guardian.” He props his elbow up on the armrest of his couch and cups his chin in his leathery mitt of a hand, a sardonic smile creeping onto his features as he muses, “Little did he know your wife-like qualities would be rivaled only by your ability to deal death.”

[Luna]

Truly moved by her current plight, she does not respond to the man's comment with any barbed words, instead thinking on it for a second. “Wife-like qualities huh? Cooking, some tailoring… Aught that remains is childcare. This ability to deal death is not one I am wholly pleased to have such use for. But it stays the hand that seeks to snuff the light of the innocent. Until my body rest bloodied on the ground with naught the will to go on shall I strive to protect. I am not sure I could even be a wife.” She pauses once more, “I'm… not sure I *should* be a wife.”

[Gair]

Gair's shoulders lift in a shrug, chiming in at the odd moment to offer his thoughts, “You and most mums, most folk raising kids don't know their arse from a hole in the ground.” His fingernail makes a scraping noise as he drags it lightly back and forth over his stubbly chin in consideration. Lips tugging to his side for the barest of moments when Luna expresses doubt, “I think whether you could or should are irrelevant, what matters is what you want, Luna. The Twelve, the Knight Commander, this cunt who bent you to his will be damned.”

[Luna]

The woman puts her hand to her chin, looking away from Gair for a moment. “What I want? I do not know. I want… No matter as long as I dwell upon it. No matter how much time I spend head on the shower wall as the water falls down my back, I have not a clue. My desires are so tied up with furthering my work. Perhaps I need to really think overlong.” She pauses once more on what he said. “You know, aside from Miss A'tera, I do not know any mothers. I… I can not even speak to mine own for lack of knowledge of her where-abouts, much like yourself.” she says, looking back over at the man for a moment.

[Gair]

“I know where she is,” Gair admits with a shake of the head, “But no more words need pass between us, not that they could. In spite of A'tera's best efforts.” He was a difficult read in the moment, the corner of his mouth twitched to the other side as he considered Luna for a short while. Wordless, his head cants to the side and then back upright. “Maybe some introspection, you might have the discipline to meditate on these things. Not that you haven't dwelled on such things before.”

[Luna]

Luna looks at Gair, clearly surprised. “Truly? You had never made mention of such a thing. How did this happen? I perform such introspection quite commonly, nightly in fact. Such thoughts fill my head and threaten to burst out otherwise.”

[Gair]

Gair waggles his brows at Luna, evidently having laid it in his past long ago. Surprisingly flippant with the subject matter, he tells her with a tone that drips sarcasm, “Twelve, I wonder how a boy from Ala Mhigo could have ever become an orphan. Certainly mine is a rare tale, another time.” His opposing hand lifts to wave the questions raised at him aside. “Mayhap because you're settling yourself and meditating in the way you've been taught to look inward. Halone's house is somewhat poisoned for you, what if you ventured east to meditate with the Fists of Rhalgr? Or even the Padjal of the Twelveswood?”

[Luna]

“My word, to think you have kept such a secret for so long.” she says with a half-chuckle. “You sly dog. I dare not press such a topic.” She listens for a moment before speaking again. “I have never thought to convene with the Padjals, nor the Fists of Rhalgr. That is certainly an idea. It might do me good to visit the Twelveswood. I fear I do not seek it's majesty nearly enough.” she says, thinking.

[Gair]

“Nor I,” Gair admits immediately, his head lifting from his leathery palm to raise on the strength of his own neck once more. “I've not the discipline to sit and think so much in a church, let alone in front of trees or under a Twelvesdamned waterfall. But I can't dispute the results, what with the Padjal's healing magicks and the Fist's might, it amounts to *something*,” he offers another shrug, not wholly certain himself.

[Luna]

“You really should try it. I am not much for meditation, but thinking leads to many good things. Many are the difficult decision I have reached while contemplating life and all that lies within it, drenched in the cleansing water of my shower.” she explains, pausing. “Truly, they achieve some great effect, so clearly there is something to be said for what they do. I will have to clear some time in my schedule soon.”

[Gair]

Gair grunts rebelliously at Luna and tells her, “Fie on that nonsense, I do better cutting loose and not thinking overmuch.” His chin lifts lifts some and looks to the ceiling a moment, pensive. “But it might do someone with discipline some good,” he murmurs.

[Luna]

Luna gives a half-laugh at Gair's insistence. “How you of all people could even entertain such an idea that I should, as you say, 'cut loose' is a mystery. That is very much not who I am unfortunately. Though perhaps there might be some value in trying.” she says with an exhale, dreading the idea. “How do you do it? You do not wear the hood of a jester but you possess the calming tactics of one.”

[Gair]

“It may well be impossible for you, I just,” Gair starts, reaching up to scratch his prickly chin in thought. “I don't know? It's not like I *don't* think, but it takes a seat at the back of the saddle. The feeling I carry *is* the solution, if we're talking about a fight.”

[Luna]

“I fear it would be easier almost to just actually not think than to… think, but not in so primary a manner. Every action I make is guided by my thought and consideration.” she muses. After a moment of thinking, she speaks, “The only time I feel that I do not over-think before acting would be when so thoroughly inebriated. But even then, it is the toss of a Gil whether I loosen my tongue or whether I brood from the alcohol's burning bite.”

[Gair]

Gair can only shrug, visibly uncertain as to how he would further explain the concept. “No, my actions are too, it's just- ah forget it,” he relents with a defeated tone and shakes his head. “It's not like getting overly sloshed or the like, you should just stick to different ways to meditate I think.”

[Luna]

Luna considers the man for a second, tilting her head a bit. “Your actions are too… what? Do not hold your tongue on my account, pray continue.” she offers, curious. “I will consider mine own methods for meditation…”

[Gair]

“My actions are *also* guided by thought and consideration… it's more how they make me feel where I draw my strength,” It took a moment for Gair to exact that thought of his, his shoulders raise in a slight shrug. “As I said, it's all feeling for me.”

[Luna]

Luna leans back as she listens, thinking on what the man says. “Perhaps our methodologies are too starkly contrasted, that it may make understanding such a tumultuous task. Maybe in my pursuit of this new meditation, I shall discover the source of your 'chill'.” She gives a small laugh. “Sometimes I believe Halone and Rhalgr themselves plotted to push us together, that we might cover each other's glaring weaknesses.”

[Gair]

“Azeyma only knows why, we're like oil and water when it comes down to it,” Gair huffs out and plucks the empty plate up, walking it to the sink in the partitioned kitchen to deposit it without washing. Poor Miyuki. He stares down into the sink, pensive. “I don't look forward to the day we need to fight for real, Luna.”

[Luna]

“I suppose that is true. Yet it seems to work, quite effectively.” she respond, though as he goes pensive so too does she, leaning forward and propping her chin up on her hands. “Must needs we fight? For true or false? I… I do not know that I could fight you with the intent to truly harm or *worse*. I can not even bare to entertain the notion of you on the other side of the field, sword drawn and bloodlust in your eyes.” she says, her sentence drawn out and clearly unhappy.

[Gair]

The highlander flashes a rueful grin and waves his hand dismissively, “Not bloodlust, my friend, justice. Be you ready when it happens, because you will get no quarter.” In spite of the apparent promise of violence between the two, he plucks up an opened brown bottle of some no-doubt alcoholic beverage to drain what remains into two tankards that he brings over to the couch. “It's not a matter of if, only when.”

[Luna]

The woman lets out a small polite Thank you at the tankard, gripping it as she thinks and speaks. “Justice? Whatever for? You are not on the run from the peacekeepers of this realm, you are not a lowly criminal even if you skulk about with the impassioned rock of one. You need not seek combat with an arbiter such as myself when you have done naught to earn such ire. Unless….” her eyes, narrow at the man. “What are you planning?”

[Gair]

“A turn of the cycles,” Gair utters and takes a hearty swig of his ale. Swishing the stiff drink around in his mouth before he finally swallows his bitter draught. “You know as well as I do how men hide behind law and custom, using them as shields as they prey on others. They've enjoyed spring long enough.”

[Luna]

Luna exhales deeply on hearing this. “Once more with this. I know I will not deter you, but you as well know I am not hearing such speak. We need not stand opposing at arbitration of justice. That is all I will say on such matter.” she says, ending rather huffily.

[Gair]

Gair's shoulders lift in a faint shrug. “We'll see,” he tells her ere he tips back the tankard and with a few gulps he polishes off the drink. Exhaling a sigh, he lets the container clatter onto the coffee table rather haphazardly. “I shan't burden you further with hot hair, though. I've gone and spoiled dinner, it seems.”

[Luna]

The woman seems to almost scowl for a moment before seemingly accepting it, softening her expression. “It seems you have. I suppose you will just have to allow me to re-create a meal in mine own abode, presumably with you hale and hearty enough to enjoy it.” she says, glaring at the man.

[Gair]

“At least you won't poison me,” Gair muses dryly and makes for his armory in the back, the clanking of familiar steel carrying in the small apartment ere he emerges with a weapon in it's scabbard. “Or would you, under orders from Halone herself?”, he fleshes an easy grin and lays s hand on the door knob, clearly on his way out for the night.

[Luna]

Luna rises, sensing the cessation of the visit. As the man muses, she gives her own wry smile. “Well, lucky for you Halone has no interest in filling you with toxins.” she jokes, giving a dramatic exhale. “C'est la vie.” she adds as she goes to exit the door behind the man.

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