[ The Admiral has seen many things during her lifetime. The establishment of a free nation made of Eorzea's most savage pirate crews, the destruction of - not one, but two - fell Primals within the same Umbral Era, the fury of the Elder Primal, Bahamut, raging across the land and razing all in his wake.

Nyoi-Cho is a new experience altogether. And, frankly, not one she's enjoying.

Merlwyb stands head and shoulders above the natives that escort her from place to place, taking one stride to their two or three as they chatter inanely in mockery of a tour; to which the Admiral makes no great effort at a response beyond a dip of her chin or a muted hum of acknowledgement. It's no secret she greatly mislikes these 'townspeople' from her body language - watching like a hawk from the corner of her eye should any of her guides turn hostile in hopes of blindsiding their charge.

They might as well be mammets as far as Merlwyb is concerned. Utterly brainless save for whatever purpose they've been tasked with, and next to useless even when performing said purpose. ]

Seven Hells, but I tire of this poor comedy. Be silent. [ Her sharp command cuts off one of her guides mid-sentence. The Admiral instead turns to whomever else that may be within hailing range - probably you, knowing how these things tend to work out - pale eyes blazing with thinly veiled impatience. Merlwyb is not a woman that enjoys being lead around in circles. ] You there! Be so kind as to answer my questions.

[ What will you do? ]