Fringe Elements

[Morgan Bellanar]

Copilot? For Asa's sake, he'd better never let the Twilit Page behind the wheel of his car. But issuing messages of challenge? Morgan tilted her head, causing even her Mask to resemble a curious raccoon. Yeah, that was a better fit for her, messenger and all that. Bigger engine means fastest car or something right? So probably the tendons-no-muscle, muscle car. She straightened her head with a crack of her neck.

The Twilit Page smiled at him and gave a nod of her head, "B-b-be ye heh-herald and isssssue challenge? Yada-yes I can-n-n-n swing that." Morgan accepts the the fob, "Tis there any-ny fffolks ye wanna race against oro-or will, uh..." looking around, Morgan points out a blue muscle car : "Will that-t-t car do as thine op-op-op-foe?"

After all, if the handsome man wanted to race someone specific, it would be bad to skip over them. He'd be disappointed and the idea of her disappointing him was itself disappointing.

[Teeramus]

Chuck gave a sly smile at Vivian's response. "Of course." He wanted to go on, but more and more people seemed to be joining the group. Not that Chuck was uncomfortable, but it did make flirting a little less fluid.

He was surprised at just how many people already knew each other and wondered if an established social group had just managed to coalesce around their vehicles. He also noticed the gestures of respect towards the Mercedes owner. Apparently he was known as well.

"The owner of the Mercedes." Chuck said, turning to the smoldering beauty who had just embraced Vivian. "You know him?" he asked. "Name's Chuck." he added with a smile as he spun the Corvette's key ring around his finger once.

[Asa]

Lips widened, the split open in soft laughter.

My... Herald?

An interesting choice of word, and of course the small woman had no idea that in some company it would imbue her with the entirety of his praxis. Not that he was adverse to the idea; after all, he had given that same power to Martha Villiers... it was just the coincidence of the word itself.

"By all means, Herald Morgan, by all means." A thought crossed his eyes, and he leaned closer to speak quietly. "Have you ever... tried singing? It's fairly common for some with speech impediments to be able to sing clearly. Unless it's just part of the staring?"

Asa straightened, again, and looked at the car she'd indicated.

"If that's the one you think we should race, I have absolute confidence in your instincts. Go forth and issue challenges!"

[InvertedMonkey]

She strolls down the lane of parked cars, stopping here and there. There are some truly fabulous vehicles on display. But without a look at the engine, none of them hold her attention for very long. Slowly but surely, she progresses farther from the parking area, and more towards the party area. Which is where she finds someone who stands out, particularly when he's irritated and trying to shed himself of someone's spilled drink. "Green!" She shouts in greeting, and raises an arm to wave. He's not the last person she'd expect to find here, but he's certainly not the first either.

[Malcolm Green]

Surly giant is surly. Now his handkerchief is all wet sticky and red red red. He needs a wash but realises there won't be any facilities out here. Not really.

He could get angry about this. He feels it in his volcanic gut. But what would it serve? The little squirt is gone. No point randomly picking a fight because that is just stupid. He exhales loudly.

He hears a voice. He recognises it. Ramona may be much smaller than he but she is certainly not as fragile as the rest. The mountain grunts and raises his mucky hands.

"Uh. Yeah. Ramona. Yeah! Watch out. Them folks are, like, blind here. Or something."

[Coco]

Aha! Yes! The plan would soon come to fruition! All Coco would need was a thin, sharp bit of metal (oh, say, a scalpel), a distraction, and four seconds near the back tires of Vivian's car. Certainly, such a malfunction would bring a wealth of shame down upon the red headed jilt! Her cuts would be precise, expert one might say, and difficult to detect without soap and water. None would know the difference until it was too late! That is, of course, if none saw her in the act. What would happen if they did. The Claviger's (faceted quatrain) eyes drifted as she walked towards another group of cars, their gleaming metal petals displaying foreign brands stamped upon their faces, their chassis low to the ground, and the men lounging near them. The tell tale glint of something within the waistbands of the men sent a shiver down Coco's spine, and rather quickly she began to re-evaluate her plan. Any mortal foe she was confident she could best one on one, even one with a gun, but a whole posse was not yet within her range of skill (much to her chagrin). Yes, it seemed that once more, her desires just could not be met.

Damnation!

Or, well, perhaps she was merely going about the situation wrong. Perhaps there was another way to strike back at Vivian. Perhaps the mind of another could aid her in finding the right path to pettiness retribution.

Smile completely faded away, Coco turned to David. "My proposition is simple: money for your aide and advice. You must be in need of income if you've come here tonight, though I suspect there is the possibility that you might also be somewhat of an altruistic Wanderer. Either way you shall suit my purposes. So, my quandary is this: your acquaintance Ms. York has abused me and I wish her to feel the same sting of casually inflicted injury which she has caused me. How would you go about this, if you were in my place?"

[Morgan Bellanar]

The smiling raccoon nodded at Asa, "Heh-did do the karaoke b-b-but reeeeally drunk. Drinking d-does kill the stutter too, heh...and hanging from buildings sssso m-m-m-brain causes stutter n-n-nada physically induced." Morgan had figured out her problem came from nervousness not her flesh. Having other things to fear, or being to drunk to be scared, helped a lot to clear up her speech.

She then gave the man a salute, spun on the ball of her right foot, and started walking over to the group around the muscle car. There was a man, a couple of pretty ladies and...crap Cosima was there getting...her face rubbed by one of the pretty mundanes?! Morgan glared at that. She might dislike Cosima but that disdain didn't include the wasp's girlfriend. It was doubly relieving when Cosima left the gaggle around the muscle car.

For a moment, the Twilit Page just stood there, looking from Vivian to Chuck, and then to Angel. After a pause she smiled whilst closing her eyes before trying to speak as cheerfully as possible, "S-s-sorry to interrrupt. B-b-but tis a request. Heh-whom tis the d-d-d-operator of the buff-blue car? T-t-the d-d-d-gentleman over there," without opening her eyes she jerks a thumb over her shoulder back towards Asa Clark, "Ask t-that I issue his challenge that, quote..." She took in a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. A look concentration passed over her face, "T-t-that thine vehicle looks slower than molasses on a winter day, t-t-thus ye are challlenged to race."

She opened her eyes with a relieved sigh that she got it right and was still smiling. She patiently awaited the reply.