A Motley of Motleys

[Coco]

Having to change the venue was somewhat flustering, but aside from that Coco felt supremely enthusiastic. How could she not be when the matter of Motley's would finally arise and she would be the one hosting it. One could not ask their host to leave, after all, and so she felt certain that nothing could go awry. After all, the location she'd chosen also had wonderful food, so there was nowhere to go but up. It was amazing what delectable little delights could do to ones mood, and so Coco had already begun partaking, snacking on appetizers as she waited for others to arrive.

It wouldn't be hard for any of the Lost to find where to go. Coco had managed to reserve the patio for them, complete with privacy and wonderful food, and the Host knew to direct anyone with the flier or the name of the party (under Coco, as said on the flier) where to go. Thus all Coco had to do was wait and see who would arrive.

[Malcolm Green]

Plodding footfalls, scrape of boot, not to mention a gargantuan shadow, herald the arrival of the mountain. One hears things. Whether Green heard "motley" or "free food" is up for grabs at the moment as he appears on the patio in a new pair of jeans and a green coloured shirt that is stretched taunt over his mighty shoulders. His face is covered in stubble, too, which gives a certain vine encrusted aspect to his rocky chin.

He grunts. Its about as much as he gives for a greeting. Only a few - possibly only the Gargoyle Gregory - could decipher his full meaning. He pauses while he takes in the ... emptiness ... and the laden table. The he is moving and dropping heavily into a seat opposite the Wasp. Furniture scrapes and groans. He doesn't notice.

Claiming a plate and beginning to fill it treats and delights, the mountain says:

"Uh. So. Still waiting, huh?"

[Coco]

"Oh, well, I imagine the change in venue might have thrown a few people," Coco replied nonchalantly. "I'd though the Blue Note might be open, but it doesn't matter, I suppose, for we are here now! I take your presence to mean that you are looking for a motley, then, Green?"

The Wasp's brows rose in question but she continued to speak nonetheless.

"It's odd, you know. I would have expected Motley's to be far more numerous in the Freehold, but I've only ever heard of two, one of which no longer exists. I mean, I think I might have been invited to join one before Terri left, but that's just a guess. I can't be sure, because she never actually said it. Perhaps that's just wishful thinking on my part."

[Milo Chernobog]

Milo had hoped to find a clique he could fit into for some time. After a year of waiting for others to find him though it was clear this was an opportunity he shouldn't pass up. Unlike the Mountain though there was no scrapes or footsteps to announce his arrival until the Lurker knocked on the door.

"I'm guessing this is the Motley crew?" A smirk crept across his face at his own dumb joke. Milo nodded to his teammate from the Summer games before extending a hand to the unknown. "I don't believe we've met. Milo Chernobog. I work for Ms Jasons."

[Malcolm Green]

"Green," said Green as he slowly extended his chunky hand. "I keep an eye on things for Mistress Byeli. Yeah."

He filled his maw with another treat while he ruminated on Coco's thoughts.

"Can't say I have either. Don't know if that odd or normal though... I was on the road a long time, yeah. Didn't hang around much so it wasn't like I was keeping tabs on how other towns organise themselves, so to speak." He shrugged. "I guess we just a small club; not much call for it."

[Coco]

"I can appreciate caution as much as the next liar, but come now, let us dispense with the double speak," Coco chided her companions.

"Aren't you both tired of having to pretend that are something besides what you are? That you're not a proud member of the Seasonal Courts of Sacramento? That your accomplishments, titles, and beliefs have to be hidden and not extolled by all who know them?"

Facets flicked between the two men opposite her.

"No? Well, perhaps it's just me, then."

With a sigh, she deflated back into her chair.

"Honestly, there's so many things that I'm tired of. Not having a motley to call my own chief amongst them. I mean, I can understand why some of us might have commitment issues, but in so many ways we're all we have! How many other people can truly understand what we've overcome, or what we struggle against? Is it so much to just long for stable friends to support and be supported by?" Coco asked, her voice rising into a whine, the question surfacing too much to be transformed by artifice for one without more steel in their soul.

[Nathan Griffin]

"It can be," the Hunterheart said from the door. He had arrived just in time to hear the end of Coco's speech. He wasn't sure they had heard him, above her voice, but he had made no effort to hide his approach. "I don't think we understand each other as well as you make it sound, Miss Tascioni. I'd like to fix that."

He sat down in the nearest chair and took a look at his potential motley mates. He was wearing a very casual grey sleeveless T-shirt and jeans.

"Green. Milo," he nodded amiably their way. Then he looked back at Coco. "So an acting club, huh? Good morrow to your worship, I am heartily glad I came hither to you."

[Milo Chernobog]

The talk of undervaluing her accomplishments was clearly something the Wasp was projecting, but Milo didn't feel the need to engage that sort of behavior.

"It shouldn't be no." Milo said to Coco. He had already tried to fill that role after the summer games. "Yet I'm willing to bet more then one of us are here for lack of those very things. If that's what we're here for, I'm in favor of giving everyone here a chance if you'd be so kind as to tell me a few things about you all."

Two of the three present he had met in passing, but nobody here were people Milo could claim to know well. If the goal was a stable Motley of friends, then it was definitely worth getting to know each other first. Of coarse someone would have to start that introductory process, and Milo didn't mind being that person once in a very long while. "I've been here about a year, I work as a used car salesman, and my actual name is Michael Foster, or just Mike. I use the name Milo in the Freehold and with some of my mundane acquaintances."

[Coco]

"Verily, I did suspect you would appear, Nathan," Coco replied to the Hunterheart, a smirk appearing at his wisecrack. "But, as I said before, let us speak plain. I'm afraid few people are as adept as myself at dancing around a subject, and it becomes tiresome to watch others fumble. So, yes, let us begin as Milo here, has. As good a place to start as any."

The Wasp cleared her throat and straightened in her seat, preparing to command their attention with her words.

"As all of you must know, I am Cosima Tascioni, oft known as Coco. What you might not know is that I am a master of the blade, and in the year I've been in the Freehold I have used my skill several times against to rid us of enemies. I've slain a loyalist, the foul spirit of a dragon that had possessed a woman, and...well, those are the most notable."

Best not to mention the murder. That, they wouldn't understand.

"Aside from my martial accomplishments, however, I enjoy partaking of the arts, and have begun to dabble in writing a bit of poetry."

[Malcolm Green]

Poetry? Arts?

"Yeah. They call me Malcolm Green but you can call me just Green," he rumbled. It was the name on all his papers, so it must be his real name, right? He'd lost the other one and besides it wasn't worth anything - just like the useless thug who wore it like a rich prize. But they didn't need to know that. "I keep an eye on things, yeah. Work in construction. Been around a while and uh... done a few things."

He left off devouring the tasty delights before them, turned his attention to Nathan.