The blazing, imposing gaze is so firm against my side, powerful and questioning; but not necessarily reprimanding, just watching me. It weighs on my shoulders and my arms twitch for the pressure it invokes onto my mind, the hefty feeling on my mentality it creates coming forth physically. I know the stare to well, and there had been a time in my life where it hadn't made my skin itch; when I hadn't cared what my grandfather thought of me or anything I did. That's inbetween a time where I absolutely craved his approval, and now; where I'd rather not have his disapproval. Guessing why he's focusing so intently on me isn't in the cards, because I know why, and its unfair of him; because he seems to think that it doesn't rattle around my head continuously. The meed I've ordered isn't soothing any of the ache my shoulders are feeling from the pressure that he's inflicting, even as I make myself take a longer swing then really smart- because some of it runs down my chin and onto my shirt. There's that stupid flaring of nerves running up my spine the longer he says nothing. He's not wrong in saying that I'm more stubborn then an adamantium wall, but in this case I have to mention something- if only as a minor distraction, even if that distraction is a topic I want to be brought up anyway.

"Natsu is going to get in shit." Its pure candour and anyone with a physical body could tell. Around us, though they ring in whispers and little embittered giggles, everyone is saying something about Natsu's appearance. Gramps had only quelled the situation for the moment, maybe for a few days in luck, but it was too big to fade into the background and be lost. No one could ignore it if the little dragonslayer stays true and keeps on wearing what he wants- it'll be a continuous reminder. Already, he had been brought to tears with whatever happened yesterday, and despite his raised chin it had affected him. That type of thing will happen again, and more then likely in a less controlled environment then an open arena. Both I and the master of the guild know this with such a striking clarity that makes the Crystal Waters of Altera look black. There has to be some form of protection, a type of barricade that will stop things from becoming horrible.

Natsu is good with fists, fire, a fight of the body and magick. A fight of words, embitterment, rejection, disgust, and possibly hatred aren't any of those- its a fight within mentality, and they burry into your brain until everything starts to be smothered by the storm clouds; lightning depression striking down. Natsu isn't good with mentality, he doesn't understand his emotions most of the time -even if he can read other people well enough,- and that's exactly the problem; he's too emotional, not sensitive, not quite. Yet, hearing those he trusts, loves, considers family, spern him for what he sees as a harmless choice will beat down on him. It will affect him. Abandonment hurts everyone in some way- even if you had secretly wished that person to leave, a small part bites at the back of your mind for months, years, decades; just the fact that they left makes you feel as if you were worthless to them; just as his father. Like Ivan.

The urge to glance, only glance in his direction to see what he's doing- how he's dealing with the weighted situation baring down on him, it has me turning to look. He's talking with his fellows, Wendy is laughing all childlike at something one of the men had said, Natsu along with her but his smile is crooked. Steel is leaning slightly over the table, arms crossed and his forward into Natsu's space; but he's not exactly smirking in that leering way I saw before, I doubt he's flirting or anything of the like actually- which, good, but my glare is still automatic in his direction. In all, it looks like just a normal conversation, simple and peaceful between companionable guildmates; it makes me shift slightly because you rarely see the three talking together at all, so its strange.

Then a little light clicks pieces together in my mind, because logic had been blocked by my own irritation; all three of them had dragon parents, and they can't understand strange gender normalities or social expectations as those of us who've had it hammered in with a pummel. That makes sense, really, its stupid I haven't considered it earlier. So staring at them now just chatting along with each other, I can actually see the red eyes glancing about with sharp focus; searching for anyone who might be approaching with less then kind intent. I can see the way that the little girl pauses every few minutes, just for a second and her face turns into pure concentration, more then likely focusing her hearing in the same type of surveillance her metal counterpart is doing. They're defending Natsu, and yet, by providing easy, unjudgemental conversation of those who understand; they're also comforting him. In true fashion however, I doubt my idiot notices it.

So he's not entirely defenseless to the scorn at the moment, but neither of his dragonslayers-in-arms can stand guard for him all the time, and that's when things will get messy. No one with a drudge of brain would go up to all three dragonslayers and spout their mouths off, but if it is just Natsu, they probably could and will, because they have words to fight with that'll cause damage he can't fight, and therein they won't be blocked by those who can and will come to his defense before bullshit can come pouring out their mouths. Really, I should be there too, I should be using whatever damn credibility I have remaining and stop things from getting unmanageable for him, the ropes- they's so taught around my limbs. My teeth are grinding and I'm staring at that one table with only three people, watching them, and glancing around just as the iron bitch for any perspective problems.

"Your father was too afraid to say or do anything too." The tone is gruff, and some liquid had obviously gone down wrong because it was rasped and followed by a cough. But the words make me freeze, my body is no longer active, and my heart is so pained in my chest that I know it has stopped beating the frozen blood heavy in my veins attributed to that fact. My lip seems to tremble for the cold resting there, I can only assume that the tears falling fast are under that same cause -obvious, only because I'm watching them with little comprehension as they tap against the floorboards. It must be the same cause for my numbed fingers pulling at the fabric around my knees, and not being able to feel any of the in tension against my skin, none of the cloth, nor the clench of my fists. So glacial remains my body, as my mind burns, my thoughts charring through me- that it is only expected that my brain has turned to liquid with the scorching scorn searing through my head with all realization thundering through me shakes quakes my very form. My skin feels sensitive as if frosted over; all as punishment, a self imposed punishment my mentality had conjured up to cast as soon as my denial had broken, and it had broken. My fright still remained, but the ropes of pride are so lose I can shuffle slightly and escape.

It rings in my mind- that same scraping metal sound: "-you were just a coward. Cowering from any action because you were too frightened of the consequences, even though I was the one who paid for your fear. You said nothing, and pretended that hiding me away in your want to ignore the situation and that it would make it all untrue." The entire situation was flipped around, a coward; I had become the very type of coward I condemn. My father in all his disgusting habits, actions, ideals, those that I thought I had nary escaped, for though the toxicity of his homophobia had come to haunt around in my head for all these years. I had thought his cowardice was one thing I had managed to flee from. Wrong, for my pride- my egotsim still blossomed enough to worry for reputation, fearful of display- regardless of the fact that I am one to display myself wide for others to see; a fight requires sacrifice at times, be that by blood, limb, or the comfort of normalicy.

My body lurches upwards rather then simply standing, my legs are still numb in places and by some reason the floor feels heavier under my boots. But theres adrenaline running through me now, part in fear, part in excitement, part in relief. My weight seems a bit obscure as I step, my own feet are slamming slightly on the wood, I'm not tensed though. I thought I would be in standing, but my torso is lax and my footfalls are only coming strong because there's a biting piece of determination battering in my skull -I wonder if this is what Natsu feels so often. Naturally, as the visual guard Redfox notices me first, the smile he had been sporting turning into a sneer within moments as he stands leaning over the table, hands flat on the surface. I've never been good at looking friendly, in fact I almost enjoy the simple nervousness some people get when I approach, now is no different, but I'd rather he wasn't in the way. Wendy is staring up at me, uncomfortable, but her gaze is firm enough. Natsu on the other hand, is staring at me with a margin of surprise in his midnight eyes, and a bottom lip ever so slightly under his teeth; white contrasting so enticingly with the red.

"What do you want?" Its not quite growled out from the iron-man's throat but there is the rumbling at the back of his voice suggesting it was close. I'm resisting the urge to curse him out, because he's frustrating to come across when I don't want to deal with him. But, he's also defending Natsu from what -sadly- could be a threat to his mind, and given the anomosity he- and everyone else, has seen between me and the pinket I cannot begrudge him for thinking my intention is to beat him. We are just staring at each other, I'm scowling, he's sneering, we're both glaring, and I can't say I know how to get him to move aside.

"Laxus?" My focus snaps away toward the very uncertain looking dragonslayer, he sounds calm, hell- he even sounds as he normally does, but his flickering eyes are giving him away. He doesn't know why I'm here when I usually avoid him in the hall to deviate suspicion, from my peripheral I can see Steel deflate a little at Natsu's acknowledgement, but the itch of his stare doesn't leave. When I had jolted myself up from my stool, when walking forward, my mind hadn't landed solidly in what direction I would take, there is many things I could do. The air is thick, and its not magick that is congregating- I know it the bristle of straining combat, and what surrounds now does not match.

What fits, disparingly, is that heavy weighted resentment coming from surveying eyes, tensed shoulders and coiled lips that I know from the slums; the same fog of disgust I'd seen at seventeen, in the wrong place at the wrong time and I'd watched a peaceful protest turn into an excuse for violence and murder. Guild or not, I can't trust in good-will, not when there's a brew of malice sitting heavy in so many stomachs and a target to aim at; theres still conversation going on in that same low pitch of false joviality, but its dwindling and attention is turning back towards the gathered dragonslayers. Perhaps it is plain paranoia brought on by scrupulous propaganda, but either way Natsu is the one the daggers are pointing at.

I can't afford to make things messy, and the less drama made the better. "C'mon." Whispering seems like the best option and just in case he doesn't get it I flick my head towards the door, his eyes are wide and I know he's questioning me. I don't know if he sees what is going on around him, but either way it doesn't matter, its best to get him away for the time being. And if everyone thinks me a supporter they can go the fuck ahead, my pride screams against it, but at this moment I'm finding it easier to ignore.

Gajeel makes action first however, a sudden movement and a loud bang as his knees obviously hit the underside of the table, naturally he doesn't so much as flinch, but his glare is on me and its a piercing of blood red that has my instincts telling me to fight. "Just what do you think you're pulling?!" Its not a yell exactly, his rasp is far too involved to be one- which is exactly it, there's more of it in his tone and it cracks his words with force. Its annoying, and theres spark of irritation definitely building in me from his act of aggression. Mainly for the fact that I don't want to deal with his brand of thick-headness, that considered; his valiant desire to protect Natsu from the situation is admirable enough that my vexation for the man is curbed; not non-existant. Even so, with my forehead twitching I find my palm stinging ever so slightly after having slammed it onto the surface of the table, but I'm more focused on making a point. I am taller then him so even on the other side of where he stands I'm the one learing over him, that doesn't mean he's flinching back however, his does tense more though.

I lean a bit further forward, my chin almost above his head, but he doesn't move save from flicking his eyes up and continuing to glare. If there weren't too many people to hear, if there weren't a volatile environment already rich with spleen, I would be yelling instead of whispering."Pulling? I'm not pulling anything. But you need to understand something. I'm not fucking deaf you iron freak, you've been saying some shit that's really been pissing me off. But, because I'm such a nice guy, I'll give you one warning, and one only." Whispering goes out the window as my anger begins to slip through, though I am managing to keep quiet enough so that no one other then dragonslayers can hear the vibration of the words, I'm growling out each one. "You are going to stop trying to stick your dick in where it doesn't belong and you are going to back away from Natsu, he's mine." There's static running over and around me, I can feel the building crackle as it charges down my arms, legs, hands, neck, my body, small sparks forming in the air. He snarls as he jerks back, at the same time; there's a high pitched squeak behind me, in accompaniment with the soft-spoken sound of my own name. Steel is shaking a little, but his twisted mouth and the bloodied intensity of his glaring irises tells me well enough that it isn't through shock more then it is affixed rage. If I did not have such the strong wish to give him a shock, I would be smirking; as it stands my lips seem to just be positioned into a snarl and stuck there, just as I can't seem to snap my eyelids away from a narrowed state.

I get myself to pull back and stand straight, rigid straight, but no longer leaning over the table in threat at least. That doesn't stop the flashes of white sizzling around me, we do break gazes. However, his turns abruptly to the pinket sitting just adjacent to me. "Seriously?!" There isn't a reply, not verbally, because the man does deflate slightly, but he doesn't sit back down. "Fine, fine." He stares me down once more, and I know it isn't in actual acknowledgement, but he jerks his chin up with a fine polished glower and eyes depicting his element perfectly. I know exactly what he means by it too, a clear, unspoken; 'for now.' Punching him in the face would do nothing with the atmosphere around the hall being venomous as it is. My mood was already bad, now-

I'm not conceding, but I do break my stare first, grabbing hold of the back of Natsu's pretty violet dress collar and drag him up. He yells in indignance as I throw him forward, but he's not actually fighting me so much as upset at my method. He does stomp out of the bar ahead of me without any true protest after all, his arms are crossed over his chest and theres a thick bottom lip poking out in a pout, accented as if it were a petal breaking from the rose. The curve of his ass isn't particularly obvious under bellowing fabric, but my eyes aren't exactly gazing up at his curled hair or slouching back. The air brushes cool against the heated anger under my skin, and I match Natsu's step as we walk towards the hotel. Because I need to, for my own nerves and for some form of comprehension, I gently grip his shoulder and turn him towards me.

Its night out, theres a street lamp just to the side of us casting just the slightest of light, and it reminds me much of our frist time walking together in the park, yet, by some malody of cruel it is far more silent around; even in despite of the many people just walking past in groups of friends talking, drunk men and women looking for a night, couples, anyone- just walking by. He is staring up at me, and as I could only expect with the little light, with the dark of night, with the shine of the moon- the stars that he possesses in his eyes are scintillating, but so is the bottom of his eyelid. His eyes are widened and theres something softened in the upturn of his lips even as he is gazing at me with confusion, but knowing what he's confused about- I twirl one of the bouncing pink swirls over his forehead around my finger. Twisted, much as my mind, I know not wether to comfort with placation, condemn their actions, or brush it away as an incident that will contrive to nothing in the morning. The later being both impossible and the easiest. He leans into me, and just wraps his arms around me, my hand somehow finding the back of his neck my fingers automatically playing with the curls there. His chin leans on me as he looks up and I look down, a grin so familiarly placed on his visage even while his eyelashes are shining with something more then light.

"You actually told off Gajeel." The heat which the breeze had brushed off returns over my neck and upon my face, its very disproportionate. For all the twine that had been restraining my arms and legs, for all the ice that had pierced under my skin and frozen my mind from proper action; I can deal with the rope burn, the cracked skin as it peals from my hands- I just had to get him away. With the gaze he gives me now, I hardly think he's considering that fact in with the knowledge I had told his ex-blow to stop chasing what he can't have. Then again, I could expect nothing else, even with the vicious reaction he had seen with Grey, repudiation from Erza, and Lucy's aversion; its more then possible he thinks it will all be gone within a day or two. Natsu knew that his guildmates had- don't- fully believe that he was raised by a dragon; he wasn't in denial of that fact. In the face of full rejection- and feasible hatred however, he was either negating the prospect or entirely unaware of the malice that had followed us out of the bar just now. I don't know which is more likely, and both those possibilities burn somewhere deep in my subconscious.