[color=goldenrod][i][h2][center]Gerard Segremors[/center][/h2][/i][/color]
[@The Otter]

A grunt heralded narrowed eyes and a low, simmering knot to the brow, as the newly polychromatic knight quietly made an effort to adjust to the new distractions in his field of view— the eyes knew how to filter out the blurry, dark lines of black lashes more than well enough after twenty-one years' practice, but the sudden phosphorescence that had been laid onto them was wreaking havoc on his saccades. From the sound of things, that peripheral vision would need to be back up to snuff as quickly as it could.

[color=goldenrod]"[i]The[/i] Midnight Hunt."[/color] he repeated dryly, testing to see if slicking his bangs back would provide a little relief from the burgeoning headache of his eyes forcing themselves to figure out relative brightnesses all over again. [color=goldenrod]"If I heard that one a year ago I would have damn near lost [i]my[/i] mind, let alone hoped to recover another's."[/color]

Her tone had given away the error in his approach— it was less sore that she no longer had somebody in the role of herald, or witness, or whatever, but more... well. If someone he'd met four seconds ago had implied they could replace one of his friends just by doing the same things, he was certain he'd also react poorly. Granted, he didn't have the ability to turn every single hair on their head into a rainbow, but he'd probably just deck them and then swing a few more times until he felt better.

In realizing that? This was far from the worst he could have gotten off when stepping onto a rake of that proportion— and he'd at least learned the value system a little more completely than the admittedly mostly blind guess he'd gone in with. To be honest, he was largely basing things off of the vibe he'd gotten from her Sister—

[color=goldenrod][i]It's getting really annoying making references through relational abstraction like that. When we get out of this, I need to find a way to get that lady's name without pissing her off like I did this one. Maybe if she offers up a small boon for retrieving the token of authority. I'd take that.[/i][/color]

A glance to the side, eyeing the pinkest man he'd seen in his life so far.

[color=goldenrod]"You always told me you managed to nick one of their helmets, Fionn. If you were screwing with me, I'd better know [i]before[/i] I ask for advice."[/color]

In Shilage, the Midnight Hunt was a bedtime story you told kids that you were angry enough with to wish nightmares upon. You rarely heard anything more about surviving, let alone defeating them, than "you'd need Reon herself to step in and put her finger on the scales to pull that off, little shit".