Raze
Raze watched, dumbstruck from her fatigue, as Flare shoved the girl next to them, revealing her pink hair. Raze saw anger in her face, and moved to pull Flare back. The patron responded.
"I don’t know what you see here, but you should really look in the mirror. The only thing here that could be labeled as “Creep” is you and that do of yours"
Flare's eyes caught fire. "What did-" Raze cut her off, putting her hand over her mouth. She shoved her behind, holding her back with one hand.
"I'm sorry..." She said to the woman sympathetically. She noticed that she looked familiar, but couldn't place it. "Flare's been acting up a lot today." Behind her, Flare had her fists clenched, flaming, as she tried to free herself from Raze's iron grip. "Let me at the bitch! I'll teach her who's hair to make fun of!"
"Flare!" Raze shouted at her, prompting Flare to quiet down. "If that's what you want..." She looked like a sad puppy.
Raze offered her hand to the woman, speaking up to her again. "Raze" She said with a friendly tone. "You look...young..." Realizing the girl's endgame, she smiled, remembering when she was so young. "I mean new. You must be new around here." She smiled softly, her eyes meeting the young girl's.
Ashe
Ashe was breathing heavily. The man she faced looked fierce, but Ashe was confident in her own abilities. The wind increased as the man tossed his coat aside, caught by the wind. He shouted at her over the wind. "Tha' is close enough, lass," His accent was very apparent. She had difficulty processing his words at first. She looked up, just as lighting was etching along the sky above them, and Ashe barely stepped back as a huge bolt crushed down between them. The flash was blinding and the sound of the crash was intense. Ashe's ears rung loudly.
She got to her feet again, still determined. The scythe, Kovac sparked black and purple along the blade, and the handle grew warm in her hands. She watched as light bolts of lightning buzzed around them, protecting them from shards of glass flying about.
"Blade Lords wear shoes," The man spoke slowly, grinning.
"I didnae do this... however, iffn ye don' believe me an' still wanna scrap, I'll be judged innocent or guilty by rite o' tha duel."
Ashe looked at him quizzically. She still had trouble understanding him through his heavy accent. "What?" She questioned him angrily? "Whatever. You didn't do this? Then I'm wasting my time. Where?" She paused, waiting for his answer, but then spoke again, to clarify. "And speak clearer, you dope! I don't speak south!"
She loosened her grip on Kovacs, and he stopped sparking, though his gruff voice echoed in her head. "Don't let your guard down. Not yet."