Ampere pulled his hat slightly lower over his face as he observed the other Duskwight's approach. Despite their similar physical characteristics, the presence of other Elezens actually made the lancer somewhat uncomfortable. Especially when he was meeting them for the first time.
After all, while their Wildwood counterparts were a more common presence in cities, there was still a small chance this Duskwight woman was a native of Ishgard. Ampere himself had been born and raised in that wintry kingdom, but the less he thought about his homeland, the better his mood tended to be. A fellow Ishgardian recognizing him and asking about his heritage was one of the least desirable conversations he could possibly think of.
When it was no longer a question that the newcomer was walking up to their table directly, the lancer had to ponder what had drawn her over. Perhaps it was the sight of someone from her own race, or maybe it was the fact that they seemed to be the only table not breaking out into drunken fist fights every ten seconds.Â
Whatever the reason, the woman seemed pleasant enough as she asked for a spot in one of the empty chairs, and Elle appeared to defer the decision onto him with the shrug of her shoulders. Ampere glanced at the woman again, allowing the brim of his hat to lift over his eyes ever-so-slightly.
People usually only entered the tavern for two reasons. To hire others for somewhat more underhanded dealings, or to get severely inebriated and fight equally inebriated opponents. And though the female Duskwight certainly seemed dressed for combat, she didn't strike the lancer as the aggressive sort, which was fortunate because the sword that hung at her side did not look like it was only for show.
So either she had come to strike a deal, in which case Ampere could use the opportunity to make up the gil he had lost from the missed Peiste hunts, or she was seeking shelter from the rest of the havoc currently being wreaked inside the tavern.
And if it was the latter reason, the hat-wearing Elezen simply couldn't find it in his conscience to turn her away.
"Well, if you're looking to sit at one of the few non-violent tables, you've probably found the right place." Ampere eventually responded to the woman in an attempt to sound welcoming, while taking a backwards glance at the unconscious body that still adorned the floor. "...With minor exceptions, of course. And you should still keep an eye out for a projectile beer mug or two."
Waiting for their new companion to get seated and possibly even introduce herself, Ampere glanced back at the Miqo'te across from him, who seemed to be clutching his quill pen with a lack of certainty.
"Also, you weren't interrupting anything in particular. She and I were simply working out a..." The lancer paused as he took a sip from his mug. "...communication issue."
After all, while their Wildwood counterparts were a more common presence in cities, there was still a small chance this Duskwight woman was a native of Ishgard. Ampere himself had been born and raised in that wintry kingdom, but the less he thought about his homeland, the better his mood tended to be. A fellow Ishgardian recognizing him and asking about his heritage was one of the least desirable conversations he could possibly think of.
When it was no longer a question that the newcomer was walking up to their table directly, the lancer had to ponder what had drawn her over. Perhaps it was the sight of someone from her own race, or maybe it was the fact that they seemed to be the only table not breaking out into drunken fist fights every ten seconds.Â
Whatever the reason, the woman seemed pleasant enough as she asked for a spot in one of the empty chairs, and Elle appeared to defer the decision onto him with the shrug of her shoulders. Ampere glanced at the woman again, allowing the brim of his hat to lift over his eyes ever-so-slightly.
People usually only entered the tavern for two reasons. To hire others for somewhat more underhanded dealings, or to get severely inebriated and fight equally inebriated opponents. And though the female Duskwight certainly seemed dressed for combat, she didn't strike the lancer as the aggressive sort, which was fortunate because the sword that hung at her side did not look like it was only for show.
So either she had come to strike a deal, in which case Ampere could use the opportunity to make up the gil he had lost from the missed Peiste hunts, or she was seeking shelter from the rest of the havoc currently being wreaked inside the tavern.
And if it was the latter reason, the hat-wearing Elezen simply couldn't find it in his conscience to turn her away.
"Well, if you're looking to sit at one of the few non-violent tables, you've probably found the right place." Ampere eventually responded to the woman in an attempt to sound welcoming, while taking a backwards glance at the unconscious body that still adorned the floor. "...With minor exceptions, of course. And you should still keep an eye out for a projectile beer mug or two."
Waiting for their new companion to get seated and possibly even introduce herself, Ampere glanced back at the Miqo'te across from him, who seemed to be clutching his quill pen with a lack of certainty.
"Also, you weren't interrupting anything in particular. She and I were simply working out a..." The lancer paused as he took a sip from his mug. "...communication issue."
