[ There is so much here that registers as incomprehensible—why does everyone have a rectangle, anyway, and why are they holding them like that—that the only thing Marcus can do is focus on what he does understand. Raised voices, threats of escalation. The impatient braying of horns from the other wagons that tell him that they're in error by merely existing here.
Marcus glances to Bastien, mild affront at being roped into a diplomatic approach when he's doing such a good job at this other thing.
But he relents, lowering the blade. If a broad smile is doing the same work as a raised weapon, then he'll ~allow~ Bastien to be the last one onboard. He steps in after Richard, and demonstrates zero compunction about shoving past and over him, a hand planting on his shoulder as he goes with a rustle of heavy leathers and metal. ]
no subject
Marcus glances to Bastien, mild affront at being roped into a diplomatic approach when he's doing such a good job at this other thing.
But he relents, lowering the blade. If a broad smile is doing the same work as a raised weapon, then he'll ~allow~ Bastien to be the last one onboard. He steps in after Richard, and demonstrates zero compunction about shoving past and over him, a hand planting on his shoulder as he goes with a rustle of heavy leathers and metal. ]