As the dust settled below your feet, the sun beat harshly down upon you, causing your skin to moisten with the presence of sweat, which greedily clung to the fabric of your clothes despite having finally sought refuge from the intense glare of the star above. You glanced around, soaking in the odd decor around you and burning it into your memory. For a settlement in the Crimson Waste, it was oddly cozy; welcoming, even.

Your eyes searched the crowd, a feeble attempt to pick out your assignment: Double Trouble. Queen Glimmer wanted you to bring them back to Bright Moon. Why? The reason was unclear, or perhaps you had tuned her out by the time she exposed her reasoning. Perhaps she felt pity; they did aid the Rebellion quite a bit, did they not? Knowing Glimmer, she probably wanted to offer a safer place of homestead than what the Crimson Waste could offer.

Your eyes finally picked them out in the crowd, and relief washed over you. Part of you suspected they had perhaps fled the Crimson Waste to find somewhere more hospitable.

"Double Trouble," you call out, pushing past the people in the crowd and emitting an annoyed huff when a few of them shove you in retaliation. "Queen Glimmer demands that you come back to Bright Moon. I shall escort you there safely."

Upon seeing how serious you're being, they laugh.

"Oh! Such passion!" They exclaim gleefully, sitting cross-legged and smirking as they take a long sip from their chalice.** "Don't speak so openly about your precious Queen; it'll do you no good here, darling."** With a dramatized laugh to close their sentence, they set their empty chalice down and stand.

"Ready to go?" You inquire, your frustration with their need to be overdramatic seeping into your tone involuntarily.

A smirk. They're getting to you, figuring out your character.