"Wait, WHAT!?" Jeanne shouted, her face becoming redder than any of the drunks around her in sheer embarrassment. "Hang on, if he lifts my skirt, I'm gonna kick his face in!"
"Come now, fair Lady Jeanne," Cyrus purred, a look on his face as devilish as Ara's. "Surely, you won't simply allow yourself to lose." He laughed at the reaction his childhood friend gave him as she growled, knowing full well he was playing to one of her biggest weaknesses: her almost unfathomable drive to win. Cyrus, on the other hand, was internally having mixed feelings about this. I don't know I should be feeling overjoyed or awkward at this moment, and the fact that I skipped on the booze and as a result will be able to remember this for the rest of my life isn't helping either. After hesitating, he gave Jeanne a pat on the back, making her flinch slightly. "Look, if it helps any, I promise I'll look away when I do it."
Jeanne wasn't sure how to react to this. She stared at Cyrus as if he were some alien, not knowing him to shrug off a perverted opportunity like this. "W-well..." she hesitated, then sighed. "Fine. If you break that promise though, they're gonna have to ship you out of this building in a hearse." She then removed her armor, with Cyrus's assistance, and began unbuttoning her shirt (her face getting even redder as she did so) as Cyrus rolled up her skirt, looking away.
Fabian looked away as well, downing another goblet of wine as he gave the youths some privacy. He was used to having a lot of alcohol in his bloodstream, but even so, was beginning to feel a bit light-headed.
