The phantom figure would fade into nothingness, a slight malicious grin sliding across his maw as he faded back in between the two, dying petals phasing in and falling from seemingly out of nowhere, though still smelling as beautiful as if they were living. Very softly, but harshly, he muttered, Halt.. Do not do this, it is rude to argue infront of your guests. Not that I conciter myself one of higher stands, here, but please, do not fight. Slowly, he lowers one hand to Saphir's blades, pushing down slightly hoping she would put them away. (Sorry I haven't been on, holidays and such.)