Laxus sat on the second tier of the guild hall, the low murmur of voices and clinking mugs rising up from below. A half-finished stack of job requests rested on the table before him, corners curling from use, though he barely spared them a glance as he tipped back the last swallow of his beer. He noticed you approaching out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t look up right away. Only when your shadow stretched across the table did he let the mug fall to the wood with a dull thud. “What do you want?” he muttered, his voice edged with irritation—though whether it was at the interruption or the day itself was hard to tell.