Artemis was sat at the bar of the guildhall, nursing a cold cider. He was here because not long ago, he had bumped into his oh-so-holier-than-thou Grandfather. Who had given him the most gruelling possible lecture on doing more for Silver Wolf. Telling him to do his bit not to tarnish the developing guilds name, and to contribute as much as he could. As much as the talk had drained every inch of his soul of joy for the last few days. He was here, listening to the old windbag. Yet he wasn't exactly doing much to contribute, he was just trying to muster up some sort of idea on what to do next. So far, he hadn't really gotten to know his guildmates much, and he was hesitant to do jobs on account of Morte. He hadn't used Morte's power in a long time, and something told him Morte was getting frustrated by it. The demons bloodlust was start to seep into his nightmares, causing him to lose a lot of sleep. If it wasn't for the cider he was nursing, he doubted he would even be able to sleep tonight. For fear of the horrific play-by-plays the demon showed him.
Art swung around on his barstool, sighing and resting his elbows on the bar, examining the guild. He just wasn't sure if the guild was on his level, he liked to surround himself with fun lively people. But so far, he found that people were very serious about their work here. Not that he didn't get it, like it was important to build the guilds resources. But wouldn't it have been better to come home from a job and let loose a little. Not sit behind a desk analysing the contents of their work without even blowing off any steam. Art didn't just want something fun to happen, he needed it. Because the less he had to distract him from his own crappy fortune, the more he was stuck dwelling on it. It was then that is eyes noticed a guy walking across the room, holding his growling stomach.
It was a teenage boy, a couple inches shorter than Art, with bright orange hair. Art watched with mild curiosity, he hadn't seen the guy before, perhaps he was new. Well he had wanted something to happen, and it had happened. If this wasn't the heavens telling him to get off his butt then he wasn't sure what was. Art pushed himself off of his seat, taking a swig of his cider and striding straight up to the guy. Watching as the guy counted his coins, he spotted a familiar face appear out of no where and get to the guy first. Art stopped, something was telling him that he had met this guy before. But he couldn't place the face. Quinn...Gill...
Then he overheard the guy say his name and it clicked into place. The table stabber. He was with another person.
Art wasn't particularly fazed by Quill's presence and decided to sate his curiousity anyway, he walked over pulling a chair up next to the new guy. "Yo, can we have two meat feasts, on me."
Art called over his shoulder to the waiter, before looking back at the orange haired guy, "Don't worry about paying. Gotta give our newbies a warm welcome."
Art said with a friendly smile.