Archer
The white haired former Counter Guardian stood up as the argument between the two women heated up.
Inwardly, he chafed at Amanda asking if Eruraviel was "registered", like she was some exotic pet. As if the vibrant elf was less than a human, not a person even though she was. It didn't seem like it was Amanda's own personal beliefs, but the laws she upheld.
Of course Eruraviel was taking offense to that, which she could not be blamed for.
Archer knew all too well being a servant without will for another more powerful entity. He had made some retroactive suicide attempt in a mostly wasted effort to erase his own existence. And end his contract in the process due to the paradox he'd create.
Except things didn't work that way, but he was here and now with these two women that were going to get violent at any moment.
So between the floor beneath them, he traced one of his favorite swords, Caldablog. He traced it stabbed in the floor between the two women in the blink of an eye. A sudden physical barrier to hopefully draw their attention elsewhere.
"Ladies, I asked you not to come to blows in my house. You're taking advantage of my hospitality, and I even brewed you tea and coffee," Archer said.