A Fair Lunch

A Fair Lunch
Date of Scene:	25 July 2013
Location:	Alexandria - Main Street
Synopsis:	Zack and Margaux have a relaxing lunch and talk about the Zodiac Braves, life, and each other.
Cast of Characters:	Margaux Fleury, Zack Fair

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Zack Fair has posed:
Zack Fair has a lot on his mind right now. The streets of Alexandria are a strange place for him; the medieval brick-and-mortar stylings are a far cry from anything Zack's known before. Zack grew up in a little provincial town, then moved to a great iron bastion of humanity's progress; the idea of a place like this is still as new to him as the map under his shoulder and the messages on his phone.

Still, war isn't new to Zack, and Ramza and the Zodiac Braves are about to dive into it full force with a power far stronger than themselves. Zack's no stranger to fighting losing battles, either - no, that particular memory is one of the strongest in his mind, and during his all-too-brief sleeps, it's generally the one that wakes him. The sound of the bullets racing through the air...the sound of the bullets punching through skin...the feeling of the life slowly draining away from him underneath the rain...

Zack's no stranger to losing battles.

But Ramza is. Most of the Zodiac Braves are. They're good people, strong people, willful people. They're willing to die for what they believe in. But...some of their allies aren't ready to kill for it.

Still, despite the message from the other day, Zack isn't ready to leave the city yet. Something Margaux said caught in his mind, besides the woman /herself/ simply catching in his mind, and curiousity has gotten the better of him. Besides...he's got plenty of time. He might as well enjoy himself in Alexandria, right? She couldn't leave before her sword was done, after all.

So Zack walks down the main street, given no more attention than the moogles and chocobos that wander through; at best, he's an outrageously-dressed mercenary to them, a stranger passing in the crowd. And that's good; that's better for all of them.

Margaux Fleury has posed:
Margaux also knows a thing or two about fighting a losing battle. Afterall, it was Ramza and his Braves which dealt the deathblow to the Corpse Brigade which has all but disbanded in the wake of that rout. But the dancer was a survivor. She outlived the Death Corps and quite possibly could outlive the Braves if she is smart about it.

And so, Margaux de Fleury, "The Pearl of Flowers" remains in Alexandria. She felt no rush to return to the Braves and to the next battle. There was still plenty for her to see and do here. And there were also potential future employers for her to turn to. Any port in a storm was a popular saying and there certainly were storms on the horizon.

The blue-eyed dancer was not much farther down the street in which Zack now walks. She is currently speaking with a plump man who has what presumably was a viera dancer in his company. Margaux was sitting ontop a barrel, legs crossed and only faintly paying attention towards what the troupe owner was saying to her. This act was not quite the calibur in which Margaux desired. Her living situation would be much better than what the Braves offered, but would going back to this life now offer her anything substantial?

It is from her positon on top the wooden barrel that Margaux spies a familiar looking mercenary walking on by. Now this was a fortunate happenstance. The redhaired dancer gracefully dismounts from the barrel and bids her adieu to the pair of troupers. She quite nonchalantly weaves through to the crowd until she nears the mercenary. "Zack. I told them that I was late with meeting my current patron." The dancer flourishes a stage bow to Zack. "Would you do the 'onor of playing that part? You simply need to escort me away from that disagreeable pair over -there-." She offers a faint nod over her shoulder as she remains in her bow.

Zack Fair has posed:
Fortunate happenstance indeed. Zack looks up as Margaux calls his name; a wide grin spreads across his face as she gets his attention. She bows; Zack puts his hands on his hips. "Sure, always happy to help." He laughs and offers her his arm, casting a glance at the disagreeable pair she was talking about. He is, after all, pretty good at sniffing out trouble - and, yes, something about this alleyside situation struck Zack as very potentially troublesome. Even if they were legitimate...well, ShinRa was legitimate, too.

"I'm glad to run into you; I was kinda worried you'd left the city and I'd just wasted a day, and then I'd have to go running off after you, and who knows how many days that'd take?" Zack laughs again; it's just as cheery a sound today as it was yesterday, full of good-natured cheer despite his profession. He's even got the same big, wide grin to accompany his big, wide sword. Admittedly, the grin doesn't glow like the sword - but those bright, earnest green eyes do.

"Listen, I wanted to talk to you about some stuff. I-"

Zack pauses and puts his hand on his stomach. "Uh, okay. Upgrade that. I wanted to talk to you; you wanna get some lunch while we're at it? I haven't eaten since yesterday, I don't think." He laughs and scratches the back of his head, then offers her his arm again - all the while keeping a very close eye on those two Margaux was chatting with.

Margaux Fleury has posed:
Did Zack look like the typical patron? No. But would his appearance be enough to dissuade the pair from bothering Margaux any further with their offer? Definitely so. And for that Margaux is quite thankful. She transitions out of her bow and links arms with newly arrived 'patron'. The pair of perhaps legitimate troupers decide to go look elsewhere for additions to their group as a result.

"The thought did cross my mind. But sometimes, it pays to slow the dance down and enjoy the more leisurely pace." Margaux explains simply as hides whatever she thinks about Zack looking for her behind a cheerful looking grin. The Death Corps member considers the questions and leans her head slightly to the left. "You would 'ave found me eventually at Ramza's camp. But yes, this is quite lucky indeed for things to 'appen this way, no?"

The mercenary now mentions why he wanted to find Margaux. Hmm. A red brow lifts upwards as he trails off into a more enticing offer. A simple chat is one thing, but lunch is an upgrade. "Yes, I would like that. Lead the way, messire Patron. The weather is agreeable and neither of us seem to 'ave pressing matters. What better time for lunch and a little chat?" She asks rhetorically of Zack before retaking his arm. While Zack may be glancing back at the pair, Margaux seems to have forgotten them by her complete avoidance of looking in their direction.

Zack Fair has posed:
Zack didn't exactly have money, either, but you don't need money to dissuade people when you walk softly and carry a big sword. Zack takes her arm, hooking it under his, and casts a grin at the two behind them before turning his attention fully - such that it can be - to Margaux. He is, after all, a SOLDIER; his attention is spread far beyond just the five feet surrounding him. It has to be, or he'd be very, very dead many, many times over. Wutaian soldiers weren't known for being overt.

"It /is/ nice out here, isn't it?" Zack's earnesty leaks through even into a simple conversation about the weather. "Reminds me of home; on a clear day you can see all the way up into the sky. More buildings than home, though; way more buildings. I'm practically a country boy."

It doesn't take long for them to come to a nice little cafe; Zack pulls out her seat, then sits down opposite her, resting his sword against the wall with a thunk. He looks over at the standing menu, pops open his wallet, and goes digging through it.

...maybe he ought to rethink that pro bono thing some more.

Still, he's got enough to get by, and that's something. He looks up at Margaux and grins, snapping it shut a moment later. "Man, I can't remember the last time I had lunch with a gorgeous girl."

"...but...that aside, I do want to talk to you. About our...y'know, our mutual friend." Zack crosses his arms, leaning back on the chair's back legs. "I'm kinda worried about him."

Margaux Fleury has posed:
"Cities 'ave always been my home." Margaux puts a particular emphasis on the 'h' there. "We used to perform in smaller towns occasionally, but some villages were mistrustful of travelling troupes of silver-tongued bards and beautiful dancers." Her smile is deceivingly coy as she continues to walk with the SOLDIER. "But what 'arm could we really cause?"

The cafe is reached and Margaux takes the offered seat with a thankful smile. Margaux does notice Zack's wallet diving, but only gives him a knowing look. When the waiter does come to get their order, the blue-cloaked woman is the one to greet him. "Good day, we shall start with a bottle of 'ouse wine to the credit of Messire Zatil's account. We are 'is newest talent and 'ave decided to celebrate. " The dancer smiles demurely at the waiter as she tucks a strand of red hair behind her left ear. "As for food, we shall 'ave reached a decision -after- our wine gets 'ere." The waiter pauses and looks first at Margaux and then at Zack and his sword. And then departs to get their wine perhaps.

Regardless, Margaux folds her hands into her lap and sits properly despite wearing her armor and cloak to the table. Her smile widens perceptively at the compliment. "'ow kind of you to say so." She replies simply before considering what Zack has to say about their mutual friend. She nods once before idly inspecting her nails as she sits there. "Oh? And what worries you about Messire Mutual Friend? 'opefully he errs to the side of caution if he does not want to wake up on the wrong side of Madame Mask." Margaux flutters her eyes quite innocently. "Or was there something else you were more concerned about then a potentially dangerous lover's squabble?"

Zack Fair has posed:
The emphasis is noted, but lost on Zack. Any significance behind it as lost; Zack's never been very good at accents, after all. The thought is pushed away to the back of his mind, to think about when he gets a better chance. Right now, though, it's not a big deal - probably.

Margaux orders for them, and Zack, again, lets her take the lead. She knows what she's doing; it's always been his policy to let the people who knew what they were doing do their thing. It's served him well in life so far, after all. He flashes a grin at the waiter and gets back down to business, still leaning back on the chair.

"Hey, I call 'em like I see 'em," Zack replies, adjusting a bit (the chair is not exactly made for leaning back in, after all; fortunately, Zack's good enough to keep it from just falling over, and he's strong enough to fall a very long time without actually injuring himself).

"It's...it's complicated." Zack lowers his voice, but the hustle and bustle of the crowd - combined with where they were - meant that it wasn't likely that they were going to get eavesdropped on. The easiest way to avoid being overheard is to go somewhere nobody's listening, after all. "I'm just worried about them. All of 'em. They're not soldiers, not really - they're a bunch of guys fighting for what's right, but I don't think any of them have ever been put into a situation like this. Where they're asked to trade peoples' lives. Where people are going to suffer and die for what they believe in."

Zack shakes his head. "Maybe I'm just being too soft on 'em, but...I feel like these guys aren't ready for what they're about to do. For what they're about to undertake. I feel like if they go in and do what they have to do, they're..." Zack gestures.

"Well...you know."

"And even if our Mutual Friend is ready for this, can he stand it? It's not like taking a life is an easy thing, no matter how bad a person the other guy is. It's not like he doesn't have enough on his shoulders. And...if it comes down to it, he might have to take the life of a good person."

Zack looks over at the street. "That's war. But...war is fought by soldiers. And these guys aren't soldiers, not yet. I don't know if they'll be able to accept anything less than a happy ending."

Margaux Fleury has posed:
Margaux's Ordalian accent was not that noticeable until the worlds merged and suddenly she found herself in both France and Not-France at times. It had a worrying effect on the severity of her accent. But then again, any performer learns a few accents from time to time. It was a part of the learning the trade afterall.

The blue-eyed dancer is thankful for Zack letting her order the wine since Zack seemed to be a little concerned about his wallet. That was no bother to Margaux as she was quite used to drinking and dining on someone else's tab. In this case, it was the account of the pair that she left just a few moments ago.

"I salute you for there are still many who cannot see a good thing even when it is right in front of their eyes." Margaux comments to the mercenary as she uncrosses her legs and recrosses them the opposite way. Her amiable demeanor hardenes slightly when Zack gets to the heart of what was troubling him. She nods solemnly and thankfully the wine appears soon after. The waiter pours a glass for the both of them before disappearing. Perhaps it was the looks on their faces that caused the waiter to flee for now. "You prove to me again that you are very observant." She now takes a long drink of wine before casting her eyes down into the depths of her drink.

"You are perfectly right. 'ee is too idealistic on what he 'opes to accomplish. The last man I followed, was different. Similar in some ways, but different in matters such as this." Margaux looks now up at Zack. "That is why he needs people like you at 'is side. Are you...planning on following our friend into battle?"

Zack Fair has posed:
Zack's the sort of guy who would've paid for her anyway - it's evident in his face and his eyes. He might be a little concerned about his finances, but it's nothing some board work couldn't clear up. Still...not like Zack has a problem eating from somebody else's tab. He's done it before. He knows why people do it.

But that was a question for a later time.

"Well, it's what he pays me for," Zack jokes. He had no idea if Margaux knew that Ramza didn't need to pay him a cent, or that he'd already turned down payment. "Might as well have somebody around who's been around the block, y'know? Maybe it'll help. Maybe not, but you can't focus on the negatives all the time, or you just go crazy." Zack laughs it off as easily as it came.

He sighs and looks up at the sky for a moment. How long has it been since he's just sat outside in a town and stared up at the sky? Even if this town is the enemy of someone he considers a friend, it's still a nice change of pace from wandering the wilderness.

Zack leans forward a little. "Hey. What about you? Are you gonna fight with 'em, when the time comes?" His green eyes stare right into Margaux's blue, and now she can see that, no, it isn't a trick of the light or anything like that; his eyes are very very definitely glowing.

Margaux Fleury has posed:
Margaux did know that Zack was a mercenary in Ramza's employ. She had -no idea- that his contract was for free. The woman also knew that she liked the optimism that Zack eminated. It was a reassuring and welcome change to what was the norm. It reminded her that she too once was the cheerful one of her group instead of merely playing the part of one. "I agree. Too many people do and suffer as a result. I, myself, cannot afford to let such thoughts get the best of me." She giggles easily before gesturing to herself. "A depressed and moping dancer would be hard-pressed to find work, Im afraid." The dancer then displays a look that is dangerously serious. "It would be good if someone like you was close to him, should the worse happen. I, on the other 'and, am not that close to him to be able to provide such a thing."

That was a neat trick what Zack does with his eyes. She will have to divulge what sort of trick he does for them to appear so. The dancer simply has little to no knowledge of the SOLDIER program and its effects on a person. "What a question!" Margaux takes a moment to ponder this over a sip of wine. She looks out over the nearby street before looking back into Zack's green eyes. "We all 'ave our part to play on the stage. I will be there to play mine." She answers quietly to Zack before flourishing a mischievious smile. "A question for a question," demands the dancer. "You are one of the few who can find 'appiness in almosy every situation I see you in. 'ow is it that you are able to do so? It seems like quite a lonely burden to carry by oneself."

Zack Fair has posed:
"You definitely look pretty enough when you smile that it'd be a heck of a shame if you couldn't," Zack agrees, holding up his glass. "Here's to good cheer and looking good." He leans forward, the chair thumping against the ground, and takes a sip of his wine only a little bit unsteadily. Doesn't take him long to find his balance.

"Hey, I'll be there. If he can't do the job...well..." Zack shrugs lightly. "There's more they need to be shielded from than bullets and blades."

Still, her answer apparently satisfies him. Zack nods and leans back again, stretching out his arms - and immediately freezes when she asks him her question.

Then he shrugs. "Practice. Somebody's gotta do it, right? Otherwise everything gets all serious and before you know it nobody's wants to hear anything but their own pity. When people don't wanna listen to other people, well...that's when wars get their worst."

"Besides, I gotta keep some secrets, right? Girls like those mysterious guys with things hidden in their eyes. I'd hate for you to lose interest in me once you got to the bottom," The ex-SOLDIER jokes, taking another sip of his wine and winking over the glass. "But seriously, it's just practice; mix with my winning personality and sunny disposition, and that's the big secret."

"Besides, bottling things up isn't healthy."

Margaux Fleury has posed:
Whether it was the compliment given, the effect of the wine, or Margaux's stage graces, the red-headed woman displays a slight blush. She soon joins Zack in the toast. It had been an awfully long time since she enjoyed a glass of wine. An awfully long time indeed

Margaux is surprised that a mercenary would care so much. But she should know too well then to pay too much mind to titles these days. She was more than a simple dancer herself desite her displaying some of the better attributes of her profession. Zack's answer draws another happy little giggle out of the dancer. "Practice? Yes, well said! There are roles that few people seldom lay and someone must step up and fill that role...even if it takes a little practice to get it right." The second part is considered as Margaux takes her glass and gently swills its contents around by moving the glass carefully. "As for wars, that is the game that nobles play while we die." The Death Corps member glances aside now. "Or at least, it was. Times are much more complicated now even if our mutual friend was from a noble house."

She raises her arms and shoulders at the same time in a shrug. "Who does not like a good mystery? Whether it be a mysterious mercenary with a good 'eart or a beautiful dancer who now carries a sword?" The rapier-wielder poses before taking the bottle of wine up in hand. "And you are quite right, Zack. Bottling things up is not very 'ealthy at all. It is up to us to ensure that we uncork things from time to time." She says with a grin as she pours some more wine from the bottle into her glass.

Zack Fair has posed:
Zack pours himself another glass; after the SOLDIER modifications, there was no way one glass of wine, let alone a bottle, was going to put him under. He knows, he's clocked himself a couple times. It's good stuff, too; be a shame to let it go to waste. Zack raises it back to his lips, his eyes still on her.

"I dunno about that; never been much of an actor. The only play I ever saw was this work thing I went to, and I went to sleep halfway through. Play called LOVELESS. I don't really remember the plot, though, don't ask." Zack makes a face. "Not really my thing. As a kid, I hated sitting still. Had to keep moving, had to keep going. Always in motion. I still barely can, you mighta noticed."

"Never really knew any nobles, either. Never known much about nobility or anything like that. I've known rich people, but not, like, real blue-blood nobles; sounds like stuff that came out of a fairy tale. Still does. Like I fell out of the real world and dropped into some old book about a war." He shakes his head. "So have you known a lot of upper-class people? I mean, a girl looks like you, in your profession, you've probably met a ton of rich ladies and gentlemen. It's a whole different world to me - like twice over."

Zack looks off into the distance. "Maybe three times over. I dunno. Everything seems distant now."

Then he looks back at her, a sly grin on his face. "But maybe that's your fault, huh? Maybe it's hard to look at the world when I'm gettin' all distracted."

Margaux Fleury has posed:
Margaux was a bit of a lightweight, but it would be hard to blame her for being such. She lacked any special genetic modification and was only sleight of build. It didn't help that she only drank once in a blue moon. Today just seemed the day despite it being still lunch time. And yet, she too did not waste the fine charity of their mutual benefactor. She soon focuses back on her own wine-glass as she takes another refreshing sip from it.

Zack's rely causes Margaux to wave her non wine-glass holding hand back and forth. "Oh Zack, we are all actors and actresses. Every moment we step out into public, we step out onto stage. Do I not look good in my costume?" She asks simply before gesturing to herself with a laugh. "What I mean is that we all cannot be ourselves all the time. It is only in private or in the company of those special to us that we can take take off costumes and don are true selves." The side of a wine bottle is tapped. "Or a bottle of wine. Sometime that is what it takes."

Margaux smiles grimly when Zack talks about nobles. Afterall, the Death Corps were formed to oppose them at every turn. "Consider yourself lucky, Zach. To not 'ave met nobles they way I know them." The next part draws a series of nods from Margaux. "Yes, yes I 'ave. I was a dancer nearly my whole life and we constantly performed for the nobility. But we were never treated as equals despite us being welcome into their 'omes to perform for them. That was all we were in their eyes, 'ired performers for their beck and call." Zack's last little comment draws a blushed smile from Margaux. "There are worse things to be distracted by, no? If you like, I would not mind distracting you in the future as well."

Zack Fair has posed:
"Hey, I can't take my eyes off you, so you must be doing something right," Zack jokes. "Still...even if that's true, I think it's better to be myself in places I shouldn't, y'know? I'm such a bad actor, I might as well not even try."

"So what's it like? I mean, you sound pretty bitter, but our friend's not like that. I mean, he kind of is, I guess; he's trapped in this..." Zack frowns. He's not a poet even on the best of days. He's a soldier and a SOLDIER; he fights, he doesn't art. Except when he drunkenly picked up guitars to pretend like he could play them, anyway. "This...cage of his own ideals. He has these ideas of how the world should be, and I feel like every time it cheats him, he's getting a little further away. A little worse off. I'm wondering if he's not gonna fall out of that cage and lose himself..."

Zack closes his eyes. "But it might be good for him, too. Might be wise to give him a shove and show him how things really are. Ahhh, jeez! Listen to me! Like I have any idea what I'm talking about." He laughs and waves his hand in front of his face, pushing off the table and leaning back again. He really does seem unsatisfied to be in one place for too long. "I've never had to teach anybody anything like that, and now here I am, acting like I know what's best for a grown man I've known for, what, a couple months?"

Zack tilts his head back down to look at her for a moment. "...actually...yeah, I'd like that a lot. Maybe have lunch somewhere a little nicer...and I'll pay next time. Seriously. I'll put something aside. 'cause...every time I've ever had to eat under somebody else's tab, it's because I was running from something."

Zack's grin fades to a smile. "I don't really like feeling like I'm running from something, personally. It makes me kinda uncomfortable, and if I'm feeling uncomfortable, then I'm not giving you the attention you deserve, huh?"

Margaux Fleury has posed:
"That's because I, too, believe in something called practice," explains Margaux with a broad gesture towards herself. One is not able to pull off a look like the fencer's so easily without first being practiced in its application. Armor was a hard thing to 'look' graceful in and even harder to actually move gracefully in. As a dancer Margaux demanded both things from herself or she would be largely ineffective in actual battle. The addition of a rapier to the mix was something relatively new and the place in which Margaux had her biggest weakness. She just was not that great of a swordswoman yet and had to rely on her speed and agility to turn the tables on a more skilled foe.

Or hope that he or she would become pleasantly distracted.

Margaux blinks and soon focuses on Zack when he expresses his concern for Ramza. "You are afraid that our friend will stumble before he reaches the final act?" She muses before nodding when Zack goes on to elaborate on his wishes that it might be good for him. "Failure is unfortunately necessary. How would we ever get better if everything was always easy for us?" She continues to pose in rhetoric agreement with Zack. "Do not discredit yourself so easily, Zack. You are more experience in these matters of war then both our friend and myself combined." The blushed fencer admits to the green-eyed merc. She then takes a hand and points it towards where her drinking companion's heart would be. "Again, do not be so 'umble. Our friend does not anyone else like you on 'is side. You will be needed regardless if he falls, but especially so if he does."

The idea of meeting again for a lunch somewhere nicer draws a broad smile from the woman. "That sounds wonderful. And it gives me the opportunity to wear something a bit more appealing then this armor of mine. Would that 'elp you keep your focus?" She asks with a clear amused tone to her voice.

Zack Fair has posed:
It's noticeable. Even if Zack wasn't checking her out the whole time, he's a trained swordsman - an expert in the field, probably one of the best ever to walk out of SOLDIER. More than that - he's an expert fighter, whether it's a gun, a sword, magic, his bare knuckles...you had to be, to be First Class. It was something you had to learn, something you had to grind to the bone and then grind more. So when Margaux moves, Zack notices it for a lot more than her womanly attributes - he notices it because it's a level that requires demanding, painful sacrifice.

"It's noticeable," Zack says finally, speaking his thoughts out loud, "I'd love to see you fight sometime. Maybe we'll have to go out into the wild and fight back to back sometime so I can see your technique."

Margaux's question prompts a nod from him, and he sits up, resting his arms on the table and folding his hands in front of his face. "You're right. He's gotta trip and fall sometime; I don't have to be the one to push him, just the guy to help him back up. But...what they're currently planning? What they're about to do, and what he might have to do...I have no idea if he'll forgive me if I do it for him, but I don't know if this is a situation where I should protect him from himself or not."

The topic of Margaux crops back up, and it's clear from Zack's face that it's a much more pleasant topic that he'd much rather focus on, because the one that's weighing on his shoulders is already feeling lighter. "The armor's pretty appealing already; I'm pretty sure you're one of those girls who can make /anything/ look good. But I wouldn't mind seeing you in a real cute dress just to hang out with me. Although you might have to give me a bit...don't really own anything but this. Maybe I'll borrow something from our mutual friend's giant nobleman's closet, something really ill-fitting with tons of ruffles and buttons. Can you imagine?" Zack makes a face.

Margaux Fleury has posed:
Margaux welcomes the attention even if it was something as base as checking her out. She already attracts enough notice from the wrong types, so it was pleasing to see that she could attract some of good ones too. The idea that Zack was noticing more than her beauty was something to be happy about as well. "My swordplay may always be second to my skill in dancing, but I not opposed to allowing you critique my skill. That certainly would be one way for you to practice being the teacher," points out the blade-dancer with a demure smile.

Her wine glass now empty, Margaux rests her elbows on the table and uses the palms of her hands as a chinholder as she looks across the table at the mercenary. "I believe it would be for the best if you were the one to pick'em up as opposed to being the one to knock'em down." The second part draws a pursing of the lips from Margaux. "I am unsure whether we may need to intervene on his own behalf. I 'ope to speak with'em privately before battlelines get drawn."

"I 'ave my limitations like anyone else." It's hard to look good in full-plate and ever harder to move with any sort of grace besides 'clunky'. Margaux smiles simple at the thought of Zack all gussied up. "Mmm. I think I would prefer you 'ow you are now. As for me? I think I 'ave the perfect dress in mind." The redhead takes her elbows off the table and gingerly rises to her feet. "Mind escorting me back to the inn? I would 'ate to leave you for when they discover our credit is no good 'ere." She adjusts her cloak so that it bunches up behind her. "Besides, we can discuss either your ruffles or my dress in more details as we walk," offers the woman with a wry grin.

Zack Fair has posed:
"Well, I know my way around a rapier," Zack notes assuringly, casting a meaningful glance at the giant monster of a blade sitting against the wall. "It's not all just big hunks of metal."

Zack dusts off the rest of his glass and sets it down. He's probably drank twice what she has, maybe three times, but it's not like either of them really has much to worry about in terms of equality - not like /they're/ the ones paying the bill. He leans forward as well to meet her. "Well...if you do...be really, /really/ careful, okay? Peace talks are pretty hard to do with guys like that, but I bet you know the situation way better than I do...so...just don't get hurt, alright? If you do get hurt, though, I promise - I'll come rescue you."

Margaux stands, and Zack stands with her, taking her arm in his. "Confidentially, I think I prefer me like this, too." He winks. "Ruffles and buttons are too classy for a country boy like me. But I'd be happy to walk you back to your room; I'd hate to let a gorgeous girl be unescorted." Zack's free hand goes into his back pocket; he unclips it deftly and slides some money onto the table behind his back as they start to walk away. Maybe a little more than the cost of their impromptu lunch, but...well, the waiter would notice soon enough. The wallet disappears into his pocket.

"Mind you, I /am/ a mercenary," Zack jokes as they make their way through the streets, "If I'm gonna take this escort job, I'd need some fair compensation...maybe...I dunno, a kiss on the cheek?"