(ES1704) A Court without a Crown

[Morgan Bellanar]

Morgan tilted her head in curiosity as Lucian seemed to stumble on his words. Had he changed his mind? Oh, he wanted to know about club speak for glamour? Morgan hummed in thought as she munched another cheese treat. Swallowing and washing it down with water she cleared her throat, "Well, heh, usually if we talk upon glamour in club speak we phrase it as an analogy for aught that it tis: fuel. Filling up or running on empty tis an oft used phrase. When it doth let slip, like saying," her tone changed to high pitched as she said stood on her toes and closed her eyes: "I love me some glamour, tee-hee," and then she went back to normal, "that tis easy to cover up by quoting from Glamour." After a pause to see if Lucian understood she continued, "Glamour tis a women's magazine. Suggest reading it if ye art going to try and cloak thine slips with that trick."

Morgan chuckled at the mention of her first meeting with the Freehold. She rubbed the back of her head, "Well it twas mine first time heh here. Nary an analogy to Cynthia's confrontation," she pointed at the Ogress, "I twas heh defending a new friend who had violated the Oath and uh," she blushed, "I heh hadn't noticed it happen back then. Lo I lacked any spine back then, plus mine lexicon twas most different. And vastly less comprehensible."

Morgan give a dry laugh, "I suspect I twas too pathetic for them to heh hold it against me. Probably took them an age to discern my words too, heh." She sipped her water again. "And I do hath a metal," she grasped something underneath her collar. She pulled out and displayed the bronzed Fire Nation pendant, "That doubles as a catch, heh. And yay to drinking. Lo sometimes seems that we art all drunkards, heh, but tis Spring so tis copacetic I suppose, heh heh."

[Malcolm Green]

"Soup. Soup looks good."

Green rumbled. He tapped the menu with a meaty finger.

Time to put the shaky start behind them. Time to breathe easier as it appear the Freehold Oath held (for the moment). Time not to worry about Dragons, rumours of rival Freeholds, strange Hollow's opening in the Hedge, and dangerous Oaths.

[Mhairi Ankaa]

"I accept." The Summer Ogress Swears the Wyrd lifts it oppressive and expectant weight, and Mhairi's stance relaxes. It was done. "Now, Cynthia. Don't forget the meditation and the yoga."

Lucian and Morgan are talking and Mhairi smiles, their conversation finally filtering through her ears.

Soup! Mhairi can't help but laugh. "The soup does look good, but I think I'll keep to my curry."

And speaking of, the Lurkglider Dinbrane had brought Mhairi the dish, once she was sure that the Ogress wouldn't cause anymore trouble.

"Yum. Thank you."

[Seraphina]

Well, that was unexpected. Sapphire eyes watch intently as the challenge was issued from the new Summer, and quickly, and efficiently handled by Mhairi.

Once it seemed to be defused, it dawned upon her. They had to have a Spring Sovereign, it couldn't be avoided any longer. But who would take the Crown? More importantly, would the Wyrd accept whoever decided to step up?

Sighing and taking a sip of her water, she walks over to Lucian. "Hate to intrude on the conversation, but giving what just happened, I think we need to discuss who is going to wear the Crown." eyes move over the amazing food, wanting to sit down and eat more than discuss this. Her voice, while still angelic, had a more serious tone to it.

[Morgan Bellanar]

Road warrior? Oh, Mel Gibson. She grinned before getting a confused look on her face about his jest regarding Glamour. She took a step back with a look of worry, "Sooo ye art into S&M? Ye might like the Asylum...oh, jest, heh, ye art making. Good one, heh heh," she chuckled as the got it, retracting the step she'd just taken away from Lucian.

Morgan nodded in agreement with Lucian at her standing up for others, "Heh, truth in that. Did its again against the Witch of the Bitter winds. Malory ended up being a nice, uh, good, uh," her face scrunched up as she tried to be diplomatic about the temperental Summer she'd defended against an angry Betony Rue Jonson. Morgan closed her eyes, smiled and gave a nod,"She twas a most loyal friend, heh. That ended better, even if Betony always scared the piss out of me," Morgan would freely admit to being scared of the Ogress that'd run Edna's for so long.

Morgan raised both arms in the "I don't know" gesture as she shook her head in the negative, "Nary ken if lexicon tis the right phrase. Tis more a hybrid of old English and big words. Requires I cogitate as a pontificate. Aught else that worked twas to speak like Yoda." She tilted her head and kept talking, "Looks for that, I have not, hmmm?" she quirked an eyebrow as she grinned, straightening her neck. "Shocking? Depends, did ye want the drink poured upon ye or not? And thank ye, but a whip ye say ye use? Heh, mayhaps thine jest twas heh nary a jest?"

Her tone made it clear she was joking. Sasha's hint made her take up a menu herself, "Aught here tis better then whence I supped upon when I first escaped. Bacon potatoes sound delicious, heh. Do they really need to calorie count all of this though? Nary see the point."

Statements like that always irked norman women around Morgan. The mortal often blamed genetics for her lack of body fat. Unlike some Lost for whom Arcadia gave such a boon, Morgan gained came by it honestly: through her athletic life style. "Battered chicken sounds tasty too, heh."

And hen Seraphina was there. "Oh...if tis to be a private Spring talk I can," she pointed to Mhairi with one hand and Green with the other, "be elsewhere."