Title: First Impressions
Summary: Arblist Tarl was loud. Ninja Keisuke was silent. Monk Seiko was simplistic. And Buccaneer Dylan was charming. And they are Prince Issiah’s new teammates. What has he gotten himself into?
Disclaimer: I do not own anything of the Etrian Odyssey franchise.
Author Notes: Just messing around with the characters from EO3. Some hinted yaoi, of course. Oneshot. Probably won’t continue, but you never know.
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It had been long standing family tradition. To prove one’s worth, those of royalty must undergo a dangerous task. Success meant that he or she was worthy to carry their royal title. Each task was different. Some short, some lasting potentially years.
And as the oldest child, it was Prince Issiah’s duty to enter the Labyrinth and map the first stratum. But he wasn’t to do it alone. Four explorers, novices as to not be given an unfair advantage, would be his accompanying teammates.
Issiah had accepted this stipulation readily. As the oldest of two romance driven sisters and one overly energetic brother, he was used to being kept on his toes.
He just wasn’t expecting his new teammates to be so…unique.
The first person he met was the guild’s leader, Tarl, an Arbalist with spiky brown-hair and glasses. He was rather tall, easily towering over Issiah. By first appearances, he looked normal, somewhat polite. He walked boldly up to him, a cigar perched between a set of pearly white teeth. Then, going completely against royal protocol, he slapped a hand on Issiah’s shoulder, nearly rattling his bones.
“So, ya Prince Issiah, eh?” Tarl asked, his words slightly hard to understand as he talked around the cigar. “Pleasure to make ya acquaintance!”
Issiah was unprofessionally startled. The man, despite the way his words were slightly impeded by the cigar, he had a pair of lungs on him that could serve well as being a fog-horn for any sea vessel. And his breath smelt of alcohol and tobacco.
“Hope ya ain’t some pansy little princess!” he went on to…bellow. “Ain’t got time to deal with royal performances, I tell ya.”
Issiah wasn’t entirely sure how he should feel about that. He was literally too stunned to speak, never in his entire life had he met someone so frank and, well, he wouldn’t say he was rude. But…by royal standards Tarl was unconventional.
The next person he met was a Ninja named Keisuke. He had dark blue hair, almost black. He wore traditional ninja clothing, a black mask covering the bottom half of his face, his eyes piercing and critical. He was situated at the back of the group, his arms folded over his chest as he simply observed.
He made no attempt to move, or really even look at him. Issiah only learnt of his name from Tarl who had introduced them.
“Don’t mind Keisuke,” Tarl went on to say. “Doesn’t talk much. Perfect in my opinion!”
Tarl then laughed. Loudly.
Issiah barely withheld a grimace from appearing on his face as the noise echoed through his head. He was unable to dwell on it for long, though, as Tarl had taken him by the shoulder once more and manhandled him to face another direction.
Stumbling over his own feet, Issiah nearly fell upon the next member of his new guild. A Monk, short with glasses and his long black hair pulled back into a braid. He looked up at him through his large glasses, innocent interest shimmering in his gaze.
“This ankle-biter is Seiko,” Tarl introduced. “He’s our resident healer.”
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Seiko greeted in return, bowing lowly in a sign of respect. “I hope that I may prove to be of use to you.”
“Oh, ah, yes,” Issiah managed to regain his senses. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”
“Hey, where’s that dumbass, Dylan gone?” Tarl suddenly asked, to no one in particular.
“Now, that’s not very nice.”
A new voice answered, silky and smooth. Issiah turned toward the source of the voice and found himself feeling somewhat nervous (a different kind of nervousness) when his gaze collided with the blue eyes of a Buccaneer. A weird feeling appeared in the pit of his stomach as the dark-haired man sauntered into the room. He didn’t have an obnoxious swagger, but he did have a confident stride in his movements.
And as he moved, his gaze never left Issiah’s.
“Where’ve you been, Dylan?” Tarl asked. But Dylan ignored him, waving a hand idly in Tarl’s direction. He was too busy keeping his eyes on Issiah.
“So,” he drawled, his voice doing funny things to Issiah’s chest. “You’re Issiah, I presume?”
“Y-yes,” Issiah uncharacteristically stuttered. Hardly the response of a prince of his standing. He cleared his throat, pushing back his long blond hair as he mentally berated himself for his unsophisticated actions. “Prince Issiah, it’s a pleasure to-”
Whatever Issiah was about to say, immediately faded away when Dylan slipped over to him, so smoothly, to stand right in front of him. Well into his personal space. He then wordlessly took Issiah’s right hand in his, lifting it up so he could press his lips to his knuckles. And his eyes, a deep, seductive blue, continued to watch him closely.
Immediately forgetting his royal upbringing, Issiah blushed a scarlet red as Dylan’s lips lingered there against the skin of his hand for far too long. When he did finally pull away, he did nothing to relinquish his hold on his hand.
“A pleasure, I’m sure.”
Issiah was speechless. He had never, in his entire life, meet someone so…outrageously charming. He had never been taught how to deal with such flirts. His sisters had. He never bothered because, well, he never expected to be the sole recipient of such actions.
“Well, since we’re all here,” Tarl said, smiling toothily as he planted his hands on his hips, either oblivious to Dylan’s flirty attention. Or was so used to it that he didn’t care. “Welcome, Prince Caiden. Looking forward to working with ya!”
Issiah didn’t know what to do or say, when Dylan wordlessly wrapped an arm around his shoulders, still keeping a firm hold on his hand. He was far closer than royal protocol dictated. Something like this had never happened before.
His sister would be having a field if they knew.
“Don’t worry,” Dylan whispered into his ear, his heated breath ghosting his neck, making him shiver. “I’ll take care of you.”
Issiah couldn’t help but feel a little worried about his future. If it was any consolation, it was going to interesting whatever happened.
