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"On my honor." Lowell winked, aware it went without saying that, while his honor itself was to be trusted, he and the professional peacekeeper had drastically different concepts of trouble. "Now, if you're looking for Trouble, she left for the Arena half-nine or so." He refrained from a distasteful, self-depreciating jape about how he had stayed out of her, as well-- less for the fluster it would have caused the lad, and more affection for the subject at hand. "Said sight of my face first thing in the morning made her 'itch to bash some heads in.' Thinking of waking her tomorrow, too."

“Lowell!” The self-proclaimed ladies man——- well, actually it was sorta proven that he was the top authority on the subject of women in their group. He still took credit for his relationship with Calista.

Zael smiled upon seeing his friend, trailing over to where he stood. “Been a while. It’s good to see you.” He was more than happy to escape from the pomp and circumstance of his new life to visit friends on occasion, those who had become more like family to him than anything else. They were a tight-knit group, though he’d had less of an opportunity to visit, thanks to his duty as a knight of the court, among other, less official things.

“How’ve you been? Staying out of trouble, I hope?” Hardly so, if he were to guess.

The man was a jokester, at times, playing the game so well he could hardly tell whether he were serious or not. Regardless, Zael respected him quite a good bit, often turning to him for advice now that Dagran wasn’t around.

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The mage gave a nod of gratitude, taking a compliment where he could get one, though he'd have much preferred it from a pretty girl.

"Come in from the Arena, have you?"

“You’re not a stick yourself, friend.” Sabin smiled broadly at the other man, hands on his hips.

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“Not much suited to the weather either, eh?” Lowell laughed off his discomfort, though verbal reminder of the sweltering heat had him tugging at the scarf about his neck, further revealing the ghastly scar it obscured. “Call a little island by the name of Lazulis 'home sweet home' for now-- although, I've a funny feeling we ain't anywhere near.”

Raines looked over to the male once more, a bit of a sarcastic look in his eye. “Well, yes. In any case, I have no business with that woman.” He shook his head. “Where are you from, Lowell? You do not look to be from around here. Your clothing is very different from what I am used to seeing, even for something exotic.” The General’s shoulder’s relaxed as he spoke, the tension in the air gone now.

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Chair rocking back from the force of it, Lowell loosed a yelp of pain as his kneecaps made contact with the table, rendering him incapable of chasing after Syrenne even if he had wanted. As it was, his teeth set to stave a curse, retaining what little dignity the vengeful vixen had left him in front of Ariela and her patrons as he wordlessly witnessed her incensed retreat.

Syrenne, taken aback, let her hold on his scarf fail for a moment. Green eyes meeting grey, she actually let herself consider a much more different approach on the subject than she initially had planned.

She actually considered giving in.

Enraged by such a thought that came out of nowhere, gritting her teeth and grip intensifying more than even before, she practically snarled at the man before shoving him backwards with much force as she could manage.

Not even glancing his way after that, she made to leave the establishment with stomps that reflected an equally infuriated mood.

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Though a brow cocked in curiosity, Lowell kept any questions he may have had to himself. A man's secrets were his own, even those of one small as the boy before him. Straightening to a stand, he extended a calloused hand to shake. "Mister's my old man, God rest him. Plain ol' Lowell's all right by me, Vivi."

Noticing that the strong human stayed in one knee to the ground, the boy adjusted a bit his hat so that he couldn’t see too much of his yellow glowing orbs, afraid that might frighten the mercenary. However, he was polite enough to answer his question. “My name is Vivi. It’s nice to meet you Mr, uhm…. I think I forgot to ask your name first”

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(So I'm sure I'll earn Asshole of the Year for this, but I have to pull Lowell from the masterlist. It was impractical and irresponsible of me to join when there's no telling when (or if) I'll have easily accessible internet after moving, so those from Game Over, please feel free to unfollow. As for everyone else, I'm afraid he'll be on an indefinite hiatus until further notice.)

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❖ clawedcrusades started following you

Lowell loosed a low whistle at the other's approach, both awed and amused by the sheer size of him. "Somebody's been drinking their milk!"

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"Pleasure's mine, milady. Sorry to keep you waiting." While the title would have been thought naught but a term of endearment from the lips of any other, Lowell's reputation of consorting with noblewomen easily preceded him, eliciting a round of panicked apologies and hurried dissipation of the circle. Once safely out of earshot from any official, he extended a chivalrous arm and audacious wink alike. "Don't mind that lot-- just doing their job, you know? Most are nice enough chaps, once you get chatting to them."

Maybe she had been pushing a bit too far, losing sight of where it stopped being a mission to become more of a personal matter. Yes, she did volunteer to help Dr. Kadowaki — and to a certain extent, Dr. Odine — with whatever needs came from the recent research on methods to prevent the side-effects of junctions. Truth to be told, from blood samples to field missions, visiting and studying worlds where magic wasn’t as restricted as in her own, Quistis was glad to help — at least most of the time.

Because, knights. Really.  The SeeD hoped to be ignored, even though a small, annoyingly rightful voice inside her head insisted in telling her that it was pointless. (Things never seem to work the way they were supposed to with knights, no matter whose side they are on.) From the moment one of them bumped into her, the blonde noticed something had gone wrong. Still not aware of local politics or behavior code, she went for the universal gesture of keeping her head low and moving on, but it wasn’t enough. A sudden tension was borne out of suspicion, thickening the air between the woman and the knights. And although she intended to solve the situation before it evolved into something worse, she was now fully aware of the familiar weight of the whip on her waist, a hand already hovering over it. What she could not predict was the sudden intervention of a civilian — or so he seemed to be, wearing no armor or uniform even though he did carry a sword on his side. Quistis had never been one to trust anyone so easily, but it was more of a matter of logic; better to deal with one single problem than with a small troop of them. With that in mind, and trying not to betray the fact that no, she was not with him, the blonde nodded at the stranger, possibly looking more relieved than she actually was. “Good timing”, she muttered, getting a step closer to him, but her eyes told another story. She was trying to read and understand that man. “Thank you.”

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If the hot-tempered titian was 'cute when she wasn't trying', as he had teased her once before, she was ravishing when enraged. "And what is it you are in the mood for, hmm?" The suggestive lilt of his tone, while intended to rile, tinged the grey of Lowell's eyes with a sincerity even he could not disguise.

Temper flaring at once with that last comment, Syrenne lost what little self-control she has, and in one fluid motion leant forward over the table to grab at the mage’s scarf.

Pulling Lowell to her with a hand that resembled more a closed claw at the moment, glowering face dangerously close to his, she warned through gritted teeth, “I’m not in the mood for yer bloody games, Lowell.”

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Do you just hit on everyone you see?

“Whoa-oh, not so! A man’s got to have standards, you know. Only the most beautiful women, such as this absolute vision before me, can catch my eye.”

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"H-hey now, let's not bring Junior into this, yeah?" Mirroring her movement to tidy the mess he had made at threat of so grievous an injury, Lowell cleared his throat and set tankard to the table himself, leaning toward her with a smarmy smirk. "If you missed me, you could just say so, you know."

Almost emptying her share in one big gulp, Syrenne proceeded to place, quite loudly, her tankard atop the table. Glaring at him again with furious green eyes, she brought a fist to her mouth to clean any drop of alcohol that should’ve escaped from its container or her own lips.

“Fair share? Fair share?” were she less tired from her battles, she would’ve strangled the man, “I’m the one who’s been getting her hands dirty and her body exhausted at the arena these past weeks, tryin’ to find a decent job for us both in between! The hell were you doing, Lowell? I haven’t seen yer face around ‘ere for too damn long!”

And, as an afterthought, “…If you were flirtin’ with the noblewomen at the castle again, you daft, I’ll personally castrate you!”

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❖ sirzael started following you ❖ ladyoflazulis started following you

"What're you lovebirds doing out and about, then? Don't you have an island to run? This half of it, anyway," he amended after a beat, as to his knowledge, both the Gurak continent and fused Fortress Island remained ungoverned since the death of their king.

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He gave a heartfelt guffaw of surprise, having only ever heard praise of his profession over knighthood from Warren. "Well now, that's a new one!" Dropping to a knee, Lowell took a peek beneath the boy's wide-brimmed hat, largely unperturbed by the unpenetrable blackness he found. "What's your name, lad?"

gallantlowell started following you

“…I was going to ask if you belonged to the Pluto Knights, but you look too cool to be on that guard force” *has to look up in order to look at the man’s eyes*