Summers Speaking Easy

[Circe]

The old Speak Easy had been remodeled into a tourist attraction, yet its roots still remained. The bar and kitchen were improved, having a good selection that Circe approved of. And yes, it had good mixes she enjoyed to imbibe. Yet, the private meetings rooms were the main draw. Some had more security then others against outside eavesdropping. Circe and others in the mortal underworld appreciated this security, treating it as neutral territory. That it was billed as "private and secure business meeting space" meant it also charged paranoid entrepreneurs desiring to prevent any industrial espionage.


Circe found the Fox Room the most convenient for her needs. Sure, there was an Owl Room she could've used for her Contract baiting, but not for now. It has a good directional angles from back when it was a speak easy. Enough to have a shotgun under the table with plenty of angles covered under said large table. Many criminals knew of this advantage. Including Circe, rocking her business suit whilst she sat at the table, cheese board and cold cuts board waiting as an appetizer for when Jack shows up. A small cart to the side has drinking glasses with several tequila bottles and club soda.


Jack Violet is expected to visit soon. She'd need to talk with him as both Summer Queen and Groundskeeper. Restrain being Kray's friend until she heard Jack's side...Her mantle flares up. Not due to Jack's actions. Not completely. But because the change of whom she was compared to who she is now. Responsible instead of fun and manic.

[Jack Violet]

Jack walked in he was dressed in a button up shirt, slacks and a long coat. He looked for the specific room Circe had mentioned, the Fox Room. Walking into the Fox Room he saw Circe, giving his summer queen the appropriate bow he then spoke. "Greetings Queen Circe, how are you doing this fine day. Mind if I take a seat?" Jack waits for the okay before sitting down. "Is there something you are wanting to speak to me about?"

[Circe]

Circe waits for the door to close. Then checks something upon her phone. Nods. "Yes Jack," she says to him, "Welcome and you can. There are a few things."


She awaits him to take a seat. "We've stuff to discuss. I've a few titles in town. Summer Queen is one. Groundskeeper is another. Not quite a marshal, but security boss nonetheless. Also friend to a lot of folks. Surprising," she gives a large smile as she waves her hands wide, "Given me being ME, but they're ya go. I have reasons to speak with you Jack. One of them is due to the second title. Jack. This room," she waves at the door that is closed, "Is one secured against eavesdropping. Quite private. A space away from mundy ears where we can talk freely about Lost business. Outside that door? Not so much."


She gives a moment for it to sink in. "You've been doing that Jack. Talking about words only the Lost would know around mundies. Normals. We have a lexicon of slang, a club speak, for talking about it around the ordinary humans. This is the first thing. If you don't know the slang," she puts on a PR smile, "You can ask me. I am happy to share though there is no printout. For obvious reasons. But I can talk a lot. Fairly obvious and I've a tab for ordering here too. Lesson and a meal."

She points to the cheese and meat board, small napkins and plates available. Sparkling water too, though no alcohol at present.


This was easier to discuss than the other matter. Official capacity, education, helping hand. It should make the second part less...unpleasant. Sure. Totally will help. Angry Summer will be less angry talking about the person he is angry at to his angry boss lady. Total will work. Just as much as Circe doesn't have projectile weapons on her person.

They are not all guns, so projectile weapon applies, thank you very much.

[Jack Violet]

Jack waits until the door shuts fully, the click sounding louder than it should, before he does take the seat, it’s careful, controlled, like he’s measuring the space between respect and defense.


“Yes, Your Majesty,” he begins, voice low. “Groundskeeper.” A pause. “Circe.”


He exhales through his nose, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “I hear you. And… I apologize.” The word is clean, not rushed. “Truly. If I’ve been careless with our words, with our things, that’s on me. I won’t pretend ignorance erases consequence.”


His brow creases, confusion threading through the contrition. “I thought I was being subtle, skirting around the point instead of addressing it directly.” A quiet, humorless huff. “Seems my sense of the weather was off.”


The pressure builds then, not heat so much as humidity, the heavy stillness before rain breaks. His jaw tightens, but his voice stays even. “What unsettles me is realizing how easy it is for the wrong words to drift, even when I think I’m holding them close. That’s on me to correct. I don’t want loose thunder where it doesn’t belong.”


He reins it back in quickly, meeting her gaze again. “You’re right. Mundies don’t get our truth plainspoken. Not outside rooms like this.” Another dip of his head. “I’ll adjust. I’ll learn the safer turns of phrase. And if you’re offering to teach, I’ll listen.”


A faint edge of dry humor slips through, rain tapping stone. “Summer learns best under pressure.” Then, softer, earnest again. “I don’t want to put the Freehold at risk. And I don’t want to put you in a position where you have to tend ground scorched by my mistakes.”


He settles back, hands open on his knees. “If there’s more, I’m here. And I’m listening.”

[Circe]

Circe nods slowly as Jacks says her two titles, face serious with her long ears flush against her skull. Then a large, friendly smile when he says her name, elfin ears bouncing happily. Camaraderie is preferable to her instead of command.


And he seems to get it. Step one, success? Already? Surprise Circe! She nods, "Admission is the first step to rectification as they say. Aaand I've a career that requires innuendo too, so I have a leg up on this. Still," she claps before she does the Italian trait of gesticulating with her hands, "I am happy to share and whilst I COULD apply pressure to the learning, not sure if that is a good idea." She shrugs. Then she gets an impish smile, "Oh ho ho ho. Unless you don't mind getting electric shocks when you make mistakes," she folds her hands together to finger tent in front of her on the table. "It works in comedies for rapid teaching, and I do have a taser."

A short list of Freehold Slang

Backyard: Hollow
Club: The Freehold
Club business: Often used to indicate a mission to help the Freehold or official tasking.
club officer: usually a monarch, but can apply to any titled position in the Freehold
Club speak: Freehold Slang for "Freehold Slang."
Cold: Used to indicate Winter Court
Crafty: Hedgespinner
Evil Twin: Fetch
Flea Market: Goblin Market
Game Face: Strengthened Mask
Giddy/Joyful: Used to indicate Spring Court
"Go for a hike/walk in the park...": Journey into the hedge
Have A Temper/Anger Management: Used to indicated Summer Court
Hiking Trail: Trod
"I had a really bad dream once...": Describing one's Durance
Mellow: Used to indicate the courtless
Mundies: Mortals
Needful Things: Spring Courtiers
Noob: Newly escaped changeling
Norman/Norma: Mortals
Party/Social/Gathering: Coronation
"Once upon a time...": Describing one's mortal(pre-Durance) life
Old Club House: The Four Seasons Hotel - former freehold commons
Them/They: True Fae, etc.
Scary: Used to indicate Autumn Court
Wonderland: Hedge, Arcadia
Yard Sale: Goblin Market

Holding a pistol to his head wouldn't work. Primarily because Circe figures her diplomacy would mean Jack would doubt that she'd pull the trigger. No pressure from an empty threat.


"Alternative? You could carry around some roleplaying game books would help excuse saying a LOT of weird shit," she offers as a suggestion. "Knew some that tried that at my last Freehold. Or they were into the game about hating communists and loving evil computers, I don't know," she shakes her head at the memory. The explanations she got we very weird, even by Lost standards. Although, the name of the game was ironically fitting for Changelings to play.


"There is another matter. One I wish to keep from escalating. Our club has a fascinating relationship between its officers. Affects the last thing folks call me in the club," she practices the words with Jack. "I have yet to have anyone from another section of the club reach officer status without being on friendly terms with them first...Huh," she drops the finger tenting to rub her chin. "Now that I think about it, that is shocking. I really think of my self as an ass, just one that admits to it."


She is getting off track. "Tangent! Right. I know its odd for one of our temperament to act as peace broker in a club, but here we are. Was my first act when I first got the crown." She shakes her head, elfin ears bouncing from droop to perked, "Not tangent again yet. You and Kray," Circe is going to be blunt on this. "You're starting to pick a bone with each other. Given vulpine and cannibal, bone picking could get someone bit."


Circe gives a dark chuckle. "Worries me. Especially since we don't have a sticher or, uh, white mage anymore. Reattaching limbs could be difficult, and whilst the flea market has a pun-ishing arms dealer," the amusement stays dark. This does not stop her from making puns, "Whilst handy, and I can foot the bill by spicing things up, I'd rather not have either of you complaining about the new bits feeling different."


Jack Violet may be a fellow Summer, but she had the feeling Kray has more battle experience. Still, better to phrase both at risk. "You pissed at him. I heard his why. I want to hear yours. Like I said, peace maker. Well, broker. Peacemaker I've got the guns for, but not the choreography nor pet bird of prey."

[Jack Violet]

“Well, I will study the talk and be more cautious in the future when it comes to my language,” Jack says first, a small nod accompanying it, “especially in front of the mundies.”


And there it is. The other weight in the room. He’d felt it pressing in since the Solstice, the way storm clouds gather long before the rain ever falls. Jack rests his chin briefly on his folded hands, eyes dropping to the table, then lifts his head again as he commits to speaking plainly.


“I suspected this wasn’t only about vocabulary,” he admits. “After the last Solstice… I knew my words had landed louder than intended. I just didn’t expect the echo to bring me here so soon.” A faint, crooked smile flickers. “Still. I appreciate that you’re hearing me before letting it escalate.”


His tone firms as he continues, careful but no longer tentative. “I won’t beat around the bush. Kray and I started off wrong. From the very first encounter.” He tilts his head slightly, thinking. “I believe it was during one of the Summer meetings. Funderland, if memory serves.”


Jack exhales. “Since then, it’s felt like there’s been a thorn between us. I can’t point to a single slight I delivered, no clear insult or challenge that would justify it. But the tension’s been there regardless. Sometimes personalities just don’t mesh, I know that. Summer is full of sharp edges.” A pause. “Still, this has felt… personal.”


He hesitates, then presses on, voice steady but tight, like rain held back by wind. “Then there was the show. Kray and Mina. I stepped back. Gracefully. No scene, no challenge, no attempt to claim space that wasn’t mine.” His brow furrows. “And yet, even then, it felt like I’d somehow offended him simply by existing nearby.”


The humidity thickens. Jack doesn’t raise his voice, but there’s thunder in the restraint. “What brought it to a head was the Solstice. Not the correction itself. I can accept being wrong.” His eyes lift to Circe, earnest. “It was the manner. The condescension. Being spoken down to in public, rather than corrected aside.”


He straightens slightly. “That stung. Not because of pride alone, but because we’re Summer. We’re supposed to be direct, yes, but also disciplined. If I err, I expect it to be addressed cleanly, not used as leverage.”


Jack’s jaw tightens, then relaxes as he reins himself back in. “I won’t pretend I wasn’t angry. I was. I am. But I haven’t drawn steel over it. I haven’t escalated.” He spreads his hands slightly.


A beat. Softer now. “If I’ve crossed a line I can’t see, I want to know where it is. If I’ve earned his ire without realizing it, I’ll own that. I just need clarity, not barbs.”


He inclines his head again, respectful to the last. “You asked for my why. That’s it. No bloodlust. No desire to test teeth or blades. Just a storm that keeps getting stirred when I’d rather see the air clear.”


Jack settles back once more. “I’m willing to broker peace. I just won’t pretend the tension isn’t real.”

[Circe]

"Yup," she confirms with a nod when he guesses correctly at the other reason. Then nods at Funderland, confirming things.


And Jack's explanation is that things snowballed? That is what it sounds like, with a throw in of fuck that guy mentality. Probably both ways. "So, you've been pissing each other off by inches, rolling a snowball bigger without realizing its on an incline, and down here we all go?" Circe blinks, her ears droop, "That was a horrid analogy. I am disappointed in myself."


Her mantle flares as he mentions escalation. But her face is not angry. She is smiling at him with a little pride. She pulls back the mantle as she nods in approval.


"That is good and that is good," she nods, "Summers are direct. Problem is, the others courts are NOT direct." Circe is in education mode. "Good, variety of tactics makes it hard for our enemies to predict us. Bad, subtle de-escalation for one court is totally hidden to another." And that was where it was going. "And I respect not drawing steel, but I'm paranoid. I do not want either of you make it get that bad, hence talk!"


"Right now, you and Kray? Your are trading barbs in a dick measuring contest for the sake of the contest," direct Summer is being direct. "Personality issues exacerbate the situation. Instigate even, then perpetuates. Insanity on both ends," Circe's ears perk up as she gives him an accusatory look, "All of us 'lings are some level of batshit, don't deny. Where was I?"


She keeps track. By ranting: "I was trying to broker peace between fire and water that don't like each others jib cut and keep insulting each other. I will not head desk over the fact that Funderland's talk down angry customer training is fanculo working to help me right now." Jack will hear the annoyance in her voice. They both had actions to apologize for that kicked things up, but it draws back to the fuck that guy feeling as the instigator. Might even be something from the Ogre's instincts seeing the Beast as a meat thief. Whilst said Beast is repulsed by an obvious predator that is bigger than him.


Circe sighs. She doesn't like being smart about this shit. "Just violence is so much simpler than thinking things out," she lowers her head. "But if I'd ever done that, you'd have seen me, briefly, on the news getting perforated by the National Guard."


Self-awareness should be some credit, though the ambition is concerning. "Bottom line, for whatever reason, you and Kray didn't like each other from the start. Things snowballed from little barbs that either of you SHOULD be able to apologize for, yet escalated. Trash talk and on to what most Summers would react to as fighting words. Circular logic of shit talking leads to more, so Imma have to stop it. Fanculo!"


"First thought that comes to mind, probably not best, I take any suggest, but first involves both of you partially apologize for being dicks as part of a non-lethal challenge setup by me," Circe is gesticulating with her hands. She is very Italian sometimes, "Direct excuse of I will not help if you don't apologize for a few things to each other. Challenge though? Eh, probably a filet mignon or steak eating contest." Circe's hands shoot up in a placatory gesture. "Yes, yes, giving the Gristlegrinder Ogre whose stomach is at least thrice the size of your own an easy win. I am thinking on how to bribe you two into apologizing to engage in a challenge you might not care if win or lose. Kray," she pats her stomach, "I've bribed afore. Spit balling solutions, throwing it all the wall, see what sticks. Modification! What is you favorite protean source Jack?"


A stupid idea that works is a smart idea that sounds stupid. Fortunate that Circe is open to suggestions. And she needs to breath now after ranting that long.

[Jack Violet]

Jack blinks once, then huffs a short laugh despite himself. “I walked into a snowball metaphor, a dick-measuring diagnosis, and a culinary intervention. That’s… efficient.”


He lifts his hands slightly. “You’re not wrong. Inches became yards. And yeah, I’ve been swinging back instead of stepping aside.” His expression sobers. “That part? I can apologize for. Easily. I let irritation feel like justification.”


At her paranoia, he nods once, firmly. “And for what it’s worth, I hear you. I don’t want this turning into a steel-drawn problem either. Not for pride. Not for audience.”


Jack leans back a touch as she pitches the challenge, eyes glinting with amusement. “I’m not beating an Ogre in an eating contest unless he’s already dead. Even then it’s a gamble.” A pause. “But I’m not opposed to a stupid idea that works.”


Then, more serious. “If the challenge gets us both to swallow a few words we should’ve said earlier? I’ll play along. Just… make sure the apology comes before the contest. Not after.”

[Circe]

"Vulgarity, metaphor, and problem solving in one fucking package," Circe gives Jack a thumbs up. It was quite efficient.


And it was good that Jack wasn't interested in vengeance for the sake of it over petty matters. Be it a little pettiness or a petty pile, she was relieved he wasn't screaming for blood.


"Depending on the results, after might involve puking whilst apologizing," Circe can't help but snark. "I should be able to get Kray to agree to apologize for things escalating. He is a dour and serious Troll, but gluttonous too," Circe nods as she considers it a feasible plan. "Explaining you've conflicting personalities and bad social habits resulted in a snowball effect could work. And the lure of food should get Kray to apologize for the escalation." Circe looks at her smart phone. Eye widen as she clicks through things, licking her lips. Then whistles as she does the math. "Glad I got a Costco card, but maybe dropping a grand for 40 lbs. of quality steak is a bit much. Mixed maybe. Chicken or pork good for you Jack?"


It is a plan, albeit a expensive one. Maybe starter 4 each on the steaks and rotisserie chickens? The rest just chicken, pork, or whatever is on sale? Chorizo or bacon? Once they have that settled, there are two other things she has questions about with Jack. One standard, the other a regular disappointment.


"There are two Summer matters I need to discuss with you as well Jack," she leans back and puts away the phone. Arms on the table, fingers interlocked. "One I am suited for asking, and often a good fit, so long as we iron out the details so we do not get tied down in any wrinkles." There is no hiding her amusement. "I've a tailor. You want a suit? Closest thing Summer gets to a uniform, cut with good pockets for hiding small weapons, flasks, or tools."


And light body armor too, which was why she kept them in busines so well. Bullet holes got patched without question. "And the second Summer matter..." She leaves it hanging to draw him into asking.

[Jack Violet]

Jack lets the tension bleed off with a soft huff of laughter, shoulders loosening as the topic shifts.


“Well, if we’re spitballing challenges,” he says, amusement threading his voice, “a taco-eating contest has strong cultural precedent. Pizza’s a classic. And ramen…” He tilts his head, thinking. “I’m fairly sure people do those competitively, yes. Usually with a lot of regret and a stopwatch.” A brief chuckle. “Plenty of nonlethal ways to humble pride.”


When she mentions two Summer matters and a suit, his brow lifts with genuine interest. “Honestly? I could use a new suit.” A faint grin. “Just point me where to stand and when to hold still for measurements.”


He listens as she pauses on the second item, the humor ebbing back into attentive focus. Jack straightens slightly, posture easy but ready. “I’m in, whatever it is,” he says simply. “So go on. What’s this other Summer business you need my help with?”