Judge exhaled slowly, eyes scanning the chaos of fists and flying bodies before them. "Amber."
"Yes, dear brother?" she asked, as though they were having afternoon tea and not standing on the precipice of an all-out alley brawl.
"Let's try not to use any principles."
Amber raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Because," Judge said, watching as a man took a wooden plank to the head and crumpled like a poorly structured sandcastle, "if we go full force, we might kill them, and that would be very rude." He dodged a flying bottle with a casual tilt of his head.
Amber sighed, "What's your plan then? I don't think diplomacy wouldn't work here."
"I just meant using your two good old fists," Judge sighed more heavily, punching a guy's gut lightly. "Besides, think of it as a learning experience."
Amber sighed dramatically. "Fine. No principles." She rolled up her sleeves. "But if someone stabs me, I'm lighting them on fire."
