He had expected Greengrass to be generally terrible with the fairer sex, but Barnaby had to admit this was even more dire than he’d conceived. (Not that he wanted Greengrass to pursue Miss Chevalier, of course – or at least not romantically, just... literally – but in general, he hadn’t expected such ungainly incompetence from someone usually so diligent.)

So Barnaby felt it was his duty to assist here, because clearly his presence was making things better and not worse. As Ford tore after her, her torn skirts still bound around his arm, Barnaby unsheathed the rapier from his midriff and jabbed it at a few of the gnomes behind them to stop them from grabbing at Greengrass’ heels. Sure, not so effective as a weapon – but the plunge of ice-cold could freeze any being in its tracks, and even ghost-swords were flashy enough for a little public swashbuckling.

Not that showing off ought to be the priority right now, perhaps... Barnaby remembered the fleeing damsel and drifted a little higher to seek her out amidst the lingering crowds. “Over there –” he instructed, ushering Greengrass on with a nod at that flash of pearly-light hair and, unable to fathom that his presence might be unwanted, Barnaby swanned over to where she was cowering, too. He wasn’t certain what the problem was, anyway – she looked just as well without her skirts.

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The following 2 users Like Barnaby Wye's post:2 users Like Barnaby Wye's post
   Fortitude Greengrass, Tabitha Chevalier