"Hey, Loraine." Marche tapped the viera assassin on the shoulder. She halted mid-sentence and slowly, cautiously put her tankard down.
"What is it, chief?" she asked quietly. He sighed.

"You know I hate it when you call me that, Lori," he commented. She turned, her eyes glinting before she shook her head and grinned condescendingly.

"Well, what is it?" she asked. "Surely you didn't just interrupt my game just to be insulted. I was on a winning streak." She gestured at the table of two vieras, a moogle and a human. Etoile, a sniper, one of aforesaid vieras, smiled, shook her head and said, "Not any longer, Lori. Four aces. I win."
"What?" snarled the summoner, Katarina. "You evil, evil little lamia spawn! I almost had a full house!" Pulling out her mythril staff, she whacked the sniggering sniper from across the table just as Etoile's hands had started reaching for the piles of gil situated around the thick, beery pub table. The moogle, a gunner, had started laughing so hard that he was in danger of spilling his drink, adding to the table's stickiness.

"Um, ladies, we'd better not fight-" began Darios, Clan Nutsy's illusionist-turned-blue-mage. The assassin sighed and shook her head, turning back to Marche, as a brawl broke out between the vieras, the unfortunate human 'who had the audacity to call us ladies' and the gunner, Basil, 'who had the audacity to laugh'. "So what is it, chief?"

"Lori..." he said. "Ritz has Clan Archmaster cornered in the Uladon Bog."

"Clan Archmaster..." whispered Loraine, her face suddenly a dark picture of uncertainty. Marche watched her worriedly and dodged a thrown cigarette, coughing as the waft of smoke came up behind him.
"Hey, boss," whispered the voice. Suddenly, he realised it was Ingg, ninja and spy of the group. She was also the one who had trained him, back when they were both soldiers.

"What?" he asked, struggling to keep his face straight. She was teasing him by digging her chin into his shoulder plate. Yet this time, the movements had a kind of deliberateness, a kind of slowness to them, as if she was tired.

"Ritz says...if you're going to go, you better get your ass there fast or else the next time she sees you, she's gonna nail it to the wall for even asking her to do this bloody mission. One of her elementalists is down..." The ninja sighed and crumpled into a heap on the floor. He spun and winced. There was a huge, jagged slash across her side, reaching from shoulder across to hip, and a stab wound in her stomach. Her breathing was coming across shallow and soft. Slowness...she was tired...wounded.
"Kat! Break it up, get over here!" With difficulty, the belligerent summoner detached herself from the group and hurried over. Like Marche, she winced.

"Doesn't look good. Might have to amputate..."

"What...you're gonna...chop off my torso and leave...me as limbs and a head?" Ingg asked weakly. "Thanks...lots, Kat."
"Welcome," replied Katarina, "Unicorn!"

"So Ingg got nailed too, huh," sighed Loraine, coming up behind Marche. "You right, partner?"

"Been...better," groaned Ingg, and promptly fell asleep. Darios hurried over, now sans a tooth and with various bruises, prepared to carry her to their camp outside the city.

"Repeat after me, Darios. I, Darios..." began Marche.

"I, Darios..."

"Solemnly swear that I shall not try to make any advances towards the ninja..."

"Hey!"

"Repeat it!" snarled Marche threateningly, drawing his Target Bow off his back.

"But when have I made any advances toward the ninja?" protested Darios. "I'm not a pervert like some of the people we've had in the clan!"

"I'll accept that for now...but Basil! Go with him! And shoot him if he tries anything!"

"With pleasure, kupo," grinned Basil, pulling out his Lost Gun and one of the evilest smirks you could see on a living soft toy approximation. Ever.

When all was settled down, Marche went looking for a certain assassin. He found her a few minutes later, sitting on the Card Keeper's shop.

"Marche, can you please get her off my roof," sighed Ezel. "She's creepy to my customers."

"Anyone brave enough to buy antilaws shouldn't be creeped out," shot back Marche.

"Lori! Get down here!" he yelled, fifteen minutes later, after being solidly whacked about the head by Ezel by staff (times this happened: 38), antilaw cauldron (times this happened: 5) and suspiciously heavy hat (times this happened: countless).

"But it's so fun to see you getting beat up by someone your approximate shoulder height!" she called back innocently.

"Lori! Down! NOW!"

As she slid down the drainpipe and made her way to a battered-looking clan leader, Ezel sighed and made his way inside after dropping an antilaw on Marche's head and saying, "There, here's that Skills antilaw you paid me for yesterday, now don't let her on my roof again."
"'Don't let her on my roof'...huh, you'd think I was some kind of animal." Loraine tapped her foot, sighed and dropped a Potion over Marche's blond head.

"You are. But that's beside the point. Are we going?"

"Waste of a good potion. Yes, we are."

"Are you going to be okay about it?"

"No," said Loraine mournfully. "But what the hell."

And her mind treacherously led her five years into the past...