[nathan67003]

Nathan was sat at his computer. Someone had linked him a vid of the recent news bulletin. Patiently, he listened as the people spoke, not really caring what they thought of him. What he did care about, however, was the face of the obviously manipulative douchenozzle that was somehow catalyzing the mass into believing his lies. He just couldn't believe they didn't see the obvious.

Sighing, he got up, walked over to his bed and threw himself backwards onto it, landing perfectly sprawled on it. I can't wait for that hollow-hearted prick to get what's coming to him.

[Uncouth T-Rex]

There was a heavy knock at the door as Marlon Murk let himself in. He leaned on the bed, looking down at the smaller man, one hand in his pocket. "Pardon for lettin' myself in." He sighed, heavily, before drawing his hunting knife and cleaning his nails with it.

"Ya know, in all the ruckus leavin' the Match, I never did get to ask ya. I'm no wet-behind-the-ears pup, and I know what Saggio's semblance does to him. But I still need to ask, man to man." He put away his knife again, straightened, and crossed his arms, fixing Eau with his eyes. "Was there any chance in Hell ya saw Saggio's aura go down and shot him anyway, or did ya just do like I'm hopin' ya did and pull the durn trigger on trainin' and reflex without knowin' he didn't have aura to stop it?"

[nathan67003]

Nathan's gaze slid over to the small giant that had just deformed his matress beyond belief. With a face so blank it would've made a sheet of paper cry, he answered with "He came out of the smoke really fast. His Aura shone and, like, shattered, but I'd already been pulling the trigger. I didn't know his Aura had actually shattered." He let out a breath, turning back to the ceiling. "Honestly, if I hadn't hit him with those slugs, I still wouldn't have known. Until I sliced an arm off or something." He mentally thanked himself for having marginally decent aim at that range.

[Uncouth T-Rex]

Marlon grunted. "Knowin' how Gray is when he's got his semblance runnin' you'd be the one missin' a limb if he'd got close enough." Clapping his hands together, he turned to face away from Eau.

"Well, that does it then. I'm takin' ya at your word. So it don't matter what Mr. Loosebritches says, it don't matter what the other students say, it don't matter what the News says. I'll stick like a stone on this and any fool thinkin' otherwise is in for a rude surprise." He looked over his shoulder then, his expression grim. "Folks aren't gonna let this drop. They're gonna worry at it like a dog gnawin' his bone. Ya know how many of them still talk about Skaos losin' his head that one time? And the only one who got hurt was himself."

[nathan67003]

A pale facsimile of a smile appeared on Nathan's face at Marlon's words. "Thanks, bud. Appreciate it. And no, I don't have a single clue about how many people still blabber on about how I shattered Izzy's sternum." On that note, he propped himself into a sitting position, his knees and feet slightly brought back towards himself. "Still, I would've thought that at this point, someone would've seen past the acting, what with the critical mistake he made while trying to antagonize me to the whole of Remnant."

[The Mythic Scribe]

Just as Marlon finished speaking, Mauve rapped her knuckles on the door. This, though, was only for the sake of being polite, as she hurriedly entered the room immediately afterwards, not waiting for someone to invite her in or open the door for her. This would probably be because 1. this was her dorm room too, and 2. she was preoccupied. The latter would be thanks to the scroll being held in her hand and the earpiece-well, the location of that would be obvious. As she looked up and noticed that they apparently had a guest over, a few muttered words were exchanged between her and some woman that, if you looked closely, had a slight resemblance to Mauve herself. Pressing something on her scroll, the video call ended, and all of her attention was now on the two occupants of the room.

"Mr. Murk, it's a wonderful surprise to have you here!" she said, closing her scroll in the process. Her face housed a pleasant expression as always, but now you could see the concern on it, which she tried to cover up, which made the expression look more doll-like than usual. "Now Nathan, I know you don't think much of others' opinions and all, and as good a quality as that is, it's more important than you might think. Additionally, you're not my mother's favorite person at the moment, though she's still only neutral, mind you, and she also thinks that your actions have negatively affected my standing. Truthfully, they have. So far your story is that you didn't know his aura was down, which is honestly very reasonable. But you still injured Gray, and the press will not relent now. Especially with that Pettibone going and making a mess of everything. Hmph. Debacles and the such are his favorite activities, that I know." Hearing a ding, Mauve opened her scroll again, pressing a few buttons while continuing, though now looking down. "Luckily, you have me on your side. Again, I have no idea why people won't simply accept the fact that you didn't know." Whatever had appeared on her scroll seemed to anger her, as she let out a huff and aggressively worked on something. "I sincerely apologize that I cannot use my full influence, but it's too early now, and it would just damage my reputation further. For now I will have to deal in favors and friends in the press. They hold the most power right now, which is why Orabel's news report was so devastating. A top social figure as well... Not to mention that even the Chansons disapprove of you, Nathan!"

Taking a deep breath, Mauve promptly threw her scroll onto her bed. "I'm a little stressed, forgive me. Apologies to you too Mr. Murk, I've almost completely ignored your presence save for a cursory greeting. Would you like something to drink? Something to eat? There's certainly some tea somewhere, and I just stopped by that bakery... SweetCakes, yes! The girl at the counter was such a dear, and I believe she mentioned something about it being so nice to meet me outside of class. Apparently a Beacon student."

[Uncouth T-Rex]

Marlon nodded in greeting, taking the time to digest the small woman's many, many words. He was used to it by now, really. Talkative little thin', wasn't she? "Hoi there, Miss Roux. Pay no mind, you're not goin' to do me any disservice. Thanks but no on your hospitality, I'm sure the vittles are grand but I'm not in a peckish mood." He grumbled, almost under his breath. "I still can't shake the feelin' that if I'd just clobbered him in that first durned match, this'd be over with."

"Reports of my disapproval have been greatly exaggerated." interjected the tall blonde man at the door. Arturo Chanson stepped in, his impeccable white suit offset by the equally tailored black one of Mr. Galahad, who wordlessly stood behind him. "Forgive my intrusion and abruptness, but I have to be on an airship to Vacuo in half an hour, something has come up at a Nursing Home Mrs. Chanson champions. Petty easement disputes, what a farce..." He smiled warmly at Miss Roux. "A pity, it is good to see you once again, Miss Roux, aside from the circumstances." He then turned to Mr. Eau, his face once again dour and severe.

"That report of my opinion they're running now is out of date. While it's true that even to my experienced eye things look darkly on you going off of the recording of the fight alone, and believe you me, I have access to the actual footage, looks often are deceiving." He sighed. "You see, I wasn't aware of Mr. Saggio's peculiar semblance at the time when they approached me for commentary. One of my employees, a Mr. Hong, has seen it in action twice now, and is a highly perceptive man. The moment he caught the latest news bulletin he called me directly. Alas, it was too late to undo the damage I've unwittingly done you."

Marlon tried to discreetly roll his eyes and was caught out by Mr. Galahad, who only found his stare matched and disregarded. Just like a Chanson, pokin' around in everybody's barn and complainin' when ya stepped in manure...Criminy! Some people.

[nathan67003]

Nathan's head swiveled when the door opened again, letting in Mauve Roux. A worried Mauve Roux, at that. He still couldn't stop himself from smiling at the plethora of information that started cascading from her mouth. "Thanks, Mauve. Thanks a lot." He wouldn't have minded hugging her right now, but alas, she was too far for that at the moment.

Marlon politely refused Mauve's offer of pastries, pretexting - as far as he understood it - that he felt too guilty to be hungry. Nathan's gaze turned back to the door, thinking of mentioning that it shouldn't just be open like that, just in time to see two newcomers appear. He remembered meeting the one in the dark suit during the time Marigold had the lot of them over, but didn't recognize the second one.

Nathan proceeded to listen to the new participant - all one of them, since Mr. Galahad was as mute as a carp for the time being. The white-clad man, according to his response to... was it Mauve's comment about the Chansons disapproving him? In any case, Nathan assumed the speaker to be Mr. Chanson himself. He intently listened to what the man had to say. "Well it's not that bad, then. If you really are more on my side now, that's what really counts." He paused for a brief moment, his eyes becoming unfocused as he lowered his stare a bit. "...I still don't get how people can't see the mistake Petitbone made. If they did, they'd all be after him." Sighing, he looked back up at the people around him, letting his gaze linger a bit on Mauve's facial features.

[The Mythic Scribe]

"Oh don't worry Marlon, it's not your fault in the slightest. What would your winning do to stop this? Jack would still have been present and all. Even if he had no reason to, as in this particular scenario he wouldn't be advancing, and therefore would need no reason to further analyze both Gray and Nathan's fighting styles, we both know that Jack would've had some other ulterior motive. He doesn't much fancy the lot of us, now does he?" In the meantime, she was also pouring some tea for herself, lavender, and of course very high quality. She was just starting to take a sip before the new arrivals... well, arrived.

Recognizing one to be Mr. Galahad and one to be Arturo Chanson himself, Mauve perked up instantly, listening in rapt interest, all the while taking small sips of tea. Her state of mind changed quite a few times during his speaking, but her face betrayed no hint of it, still in its slightly doll-like expression, though with only a very slight smile. Said smile fell though, when Nathan responded, before her whole expression softened and relaxed. Shaking her head, Mauve still couldn't believe how unknowing he was in these matters. Then again, not everyone grew up in a high-standing Mistralian/Atlesian family.

"Ah, lovely to see you again, Mr. Chanson." greeted Mauve. "Mr. Galahad, you as well. And give my best to Mrs. Chanson if you would. Truly a pity that you can't stay, but I suppose disputes, no matter how petty, must always be attended to." Thinking again, she added, "And that would pertain to this situation as well, if you think about it. It's good that you now know the real story though, no need to fret. Though yes," she admitted, "the damage has already been done. If you take it back now, it'll seem awkward, out of place, it wouldn't do nearly as much as we need. Not to mention it wouldn't look too good for you either, Mr. Chanson. Oh, and I'm sure some outlet in some faraway place would theorize that somehow you've been swayed by my poisonous words-it's no secret that I'm on Nathan's side, and have a reputation of being quite persuasive, well-versed in these things. And Mother too of course. Even if this hypothetical story had little backing, was from some insignificant little center... Oh, they'd latch on like leeches." She was mad again, but this only lasted a few moments before she was back to calm, normal Mauve. The tea might've had something to do with that. "I feel like I've reiterated my intense dislike for the press enough. But the point is, even if he is on our side now, speaking out wouldn't be wise, and so it's not really what matters now, though it's nice to know, and is appreciated! We need new perspectives. You don't suppose Utsu would agree to-no, I'd better just get a quote from one of the professors in charge. Then I can relay it to some of my reporter and editor... friends..."

She then shook her head, pouring herself more tea. "On to less pressing matters, would you like a cup of tea, Mr. Chanson? Lavender, they say it's very good for relaxation, stress control and the like." She let out a wry laugh before taking another sip. "Needless to say, we all might be needing some right now. Perhaps it will help ease your mind about any farces regarding one of Mrs. Chanson's championed nursing homes? Otherwise there's lavender shortbread, bought at this lovely little bakery in town. Mr. Murk and Nathan don't seem to want any, but perhaps you do? I can even package a few to go, so you aren't slowed down on your trip to wherever that nursing home is. What do you say?"

[Uncouth T-Rex]

Spoiler: ShowHide

Marlon is using the classic sense of the word, he's calling him a dried up turd used for fuel.

"That he doesn't, Miss Roux, though I don't care for the faggot neither. If ya'll can pardon my sayin' so." Marlon rumbled, looking at the floor.

"A cup of tea would be lovely, thank you. And I agree, especially with you involved, I would not risk meddling further. If people start associating us again in any expansive, public way, there is an uncanny potential to drag you and your mother back through grounds best left untread, and that I cannot allow." Both he and Mr. Galahad wore somber expressions for a fraction of a second, but quickly regained their composure. "As for Mr. Pettibone, the boy is laughable. Not to place myself on a pedestal, but he and Mr. Midori cannot possibly be the likely candidates to "replace" me when I fully retire from the ring...However, he's charismatic enough to have people see things his way. As we're already coming to find out. Mr. Eau, I'm not entirely sure what you mean by his "mistake". If I had been present, and did not already know Miss Roux to be a sound judge of character, I would have acted in a similar fashion."

Mr. Galahad spoke then, briefly. "I was actually there. I'm a little intrigued as to your line of thinking. If I didn't know Mr. Pettibone from past experience, and if, like most of the world, I watched you shoot another contestant down and then advance on him with unknown intentions, I'd be a little suspicious of your motives."

[nathan67003]

Nathan continued to listen to his friends - and new acquaintances - as they spoke on, making sure to not let his mind wander too much. Briefly turning towards Mauve, he said in a hushed tone "Hey, I never said I didn't want shortbread!", although a hint of a smile was present on his face. He then turned back to the others.

When the new arrivals asked him what he'd meant by 'mistake', he looked slightly taken aback - as much as his face was capable of expressing, anyway. "Really? Huh. Here I was, thinking it was obvious." He paused shortly to bring the memory back into focus, the details still cristalline to him. "While I get what you're saying, Mister Galahad, I had been in the process of lowering my weapon. A very astute eye would've even seen Ergia was retracting into storage form, in which case it's as harmless as a police baton. I am, however, aware that the confusion taking place at the time would've made it extrememly difficult for anyone to spot that. But the mistake Alpha Jerk made was that he immediately went in to fight me. He didn't even turn towards Gray or run to him to see if he was okay or attend to him while the medics were on their way, which is what I had been in the process of doing. Even if he'd done that, he would've been in an excellent position to defend. Instead, he immediately kicked my face and remained on standby. He obviously didn't give a damn about Gray. I could've hit an artery, for crying out loud! And when I called him out on his lack of interest in the injured guy, he just shot me this look like he was swimming in raw sewage." Throughout his explanation, his face and tone remained calm.

[The Mythic Scribe]

Mauve listened to the others intently yet quietly, pondering over her options for the moment, and of course Nathan's opinion on what was apparently a flaw in Jack's actions. Interesting. "I'll prepare the tea immediately Mr. Chanson, but Nathan, I'm fairly sure you can walk over and get the shortbread yourself. I'm not your mother, am I?" An eyebrow was raised teasingly as she spoke to Nathan, a hint of a smile on her face before she turned away to deftly unhook a teacup from a rack hanging over the endtable that the kettle rested on. Such a pity that she couldn't cook in Beacon, she'd always like cooking. Mother always drilled into her that even though she'd had a privileged life, knowing how to take care of herself was a necessity. She'd also drilled into her the importance of social standing, and preserving it, which certainly was a problem at the moment. But that was what she was working to fix.

After bringing the cup of tea to Mr. Chanson, Mauve took a seat next to Nathan, on his bed, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving him a small smile before looking back to their esteemed guests. "Well... it would certainly be a good seed, a starting point... Though I'm a afraid it doesn't do too too much. There was already a professor on duty, taking care of Gray, along with medics that could've done their job and I'm fairly sure Jack's no help when it comes to those matters. I could've thought that the calling out on my disinterest was a distraction tactic and my first thought would've been to confront you as well. If," she added,"I hadn't known you previously, and known that you couldn't have meant any harm of course." A placating smile now took place of her schooled one as she turned back to Nathan. "It's a good start though, a good few sentences to slip in during a report, to start the seeds of something. Tweeter would've been a good place to express this, seeing as the short statement that would've gone along the lines of 'I wonder whatever,' would've fit well with the character limit. Short but with the potential to spark thoughts. But I can't use my own, nor can I persuade anyone else to use theirs, not anyone that had any sway. The press was hard enough. Perhaps just posting something with another account might work."

"Well what do you think? About my ideas? Any advice or wise words to set me on this path of restoration?" This was directed to the two older gentlemen in the room. "Any suggestions or such?" This to the younger one. "I should be off soon to gather a bit more intel to pass on to the aforementioned friends I have."

[Uncouth T-Rex]

Mr. Chanson smiled benevolently as he took the tea. "Thank you dear."

Marlon spoke up then, not really caring that he'd sort of been relegated to the position of heavy decorative furniture for a short while due to his reticence.

"Loosebritches knows how to ice his durned ankles when he gets a sprain. He's a stinkin' tourney man, the most first aide ya learn doin' that just teaches ya that there are folks paid to patch ya up on the sidelines, and it's none of your lazy behind's business." The older men scowled heavily at him, but were still unawares that he had absolutely made that a directed insult to the "tourney man" currently sipping on some tea.

"Well, that's...similar to what I would have said." Mr. Chanson remarked. "The tournament lifestyle does not lend itself to much education beyond winning, if approached with improper intentions. That does not mean, of course, that one cannot obtain sufficient medical knowledge to be effective in an emergency. Mr. Galahad and I have had occasion to patch one another up more than once, but he has military experience in the matter and I am an avid student of all things eminently useful."

"Besides, getting into a media fight with Jack Pettibone is beyond stupid." Mr. Galahad brushed his employer's disappointment at his rudeness aside. "I know most of what Ergia does. Mainly because I'm paid to know. I have a damn good idea of what you do. Because I have the skillset to. Most of the public is neither paid to know nor has the proper point of view for you to pull that stunt. Not to mention, you expressing anything but regret at the situation makes you the monster they want you to be. Accident or no, you shot a man, and it's going to look ugly as sin if you try and shift any blame to someone who tried to help, however stupid that decision may or may not have been on their part."

"He's right, you know. As someone who deals with public relations as a lifestyle these days, you really need someone watching your back on this for exactly the reasons you've just been shown. For your sake and the sake of those involved with you, most importantly Miss Roux but my daughter as well. Thankfully, I happen to know a man who already was sent to help you by the Academy Staff. I actually called him before coming here, and he was just getting ready to leave a meeting with the rest of his colleagues about this very subject. Professor Hatterly should be here shortly. And I must be going, I need to see Cheri about her upcoming visit to Mr. Saggio's sickbed and her decision to cover his medical expenses before I leave."

He set down his tea, thanked Miss Roux, and bid everyone a fond farewell before making a genteel exit with Mr. Galahad on his tail.

[nathan67003]

Nathan smiled right back at Mauve's playful poke. As she sat next to him and laid a hand on his shoulder, he gently put his hand on her waist. Yes, he wanted to bring her close and hug her, but that would've been out of place, as Mauve had desperately tried to teach him. He freaking hoped a hand on the waist wasn't too much, either. He then proceeded to listen to what everyone had to say, right up until Mr. Chanson and Mr. Galahad took their leave, waving once as a goodbye.

Right. Now, to adress what was said. "Of course I feel remorse. I'm still thanking everything that I didn't hit anything more important. And no, I would never try to go against him in the media. I know I shot the guy. The only thing Petit Bone did was antagonize me to everyone for no reason, and fixing that is well beyond a single person's capability right now."

Sighing, he surrounded Mauve's waist with both his arms and brought her close. "By the way, thanks for the vote of confidence, guys. Really appreciate it."

[The Mythic Scribe]

Sending a quick smile at Nathan for the hand on her waist, Mauve responded carefully to the leaving businessmen. "Of course not! Going against Pettibone would be a terrible idea knowing how much influence he and Orabel have, and that's not even mentioning their families. For now clearing Nathan's name is my main objective, exactly why my name is going nowhere near these strictly backstage plans." As the men made a move to leave, Mauve stood up herself and gently removed Nathan's hand before holding the door open for Mr. Galahad and Mr. Chanson to leave, exchanging brief farewells with them in the process. Once they were gone, she shut the door gently, leaving it unlocked, then returning to her place on the bed before Nathan wrapped his arms around her waist.

Sighing, she relaxed into his arms, leaning back a smidge. "This is much more complicated than it should've been. It's simply one tournament, and however big, Jack didn't have to stick his nose in it. If he hadn't, of course this would've been a bit tangled, but why such fuss?" Another sigh. Mauve reached back to gather her hair over her right shoulder. It'd been straightened earlier, the way it'd been before she'd had it permanently curled years ago, to look a little more like her father and brother, with their natural curly locks. Not now though. "Wait... Nathan, did Mr. Chanson by any chance say Professor Hatterly? As in our Criminal and International Law professor?" Slightly stiffening but not pulling away, Mauve asked worriedly, "Do you think I should tidy up a bit? Prepare some more tea? I'd hate for him to have a bad impression of the place that would negatively affect his opinions of us."

To most people though, this worrying would be strange. At a first glance, the dorm seemed perfectly clean and organized thanks to Mauve and Fortuna, everything in their place and as clearly organized as possible. The little end table shoved into a corner that served as Mauve's tea-brewing table was a little klunky, but otherwise there were only minor things amiss. Such as the stack of books on Mauve's bed, or the stray jacket, piece of jewelry, or sock-was that pantyhose? Not hers, so was it Fortuna's? Fortuna didn't wear much of it. Or did she? Mauve couldn't recall...