Meeting Summer's Monarch

[Circe]

Circe smirks, "A blade ya need? I can forge ya one that'll help ya go from backup to front stage," she holds up a hand as she waggles a blue finger, "But it's on ya to become a diva. Not a token, a gift." Another pun. Circe hoped Colonel Worm would understand she meant Hedgespun. "Or sap gloves. That's pretty much," Circe shrugs with a scoff, "Easy. Cut open glove, add pellets, sew glove, and done."

"Ah, the Khornish dancing style," she jokes with Worm and snaps her fingers along to his shimmy. That was amusing.

As for the rest? She nods along about the nurse thing but doesn't joke about outfits. ID, glad he understood. Circe gives him a n approving smile at the undergrond pun. "I can recommend who I paid fer ID when ya need one, but that is about as far as my contacts in that area go," Circe feigns shame, "I focused upon getting access ta Tommy Guns instead. Maybe a bazooka at some point." As for the dress code, Circe had her reasons. "Yes, a dress code. Uniforms suggest organization, power, numbers, and help ta hide weapons. Plus, I like ta buy every new Summer a suit from my tailor." Circe's tone turns matter of fact, "Good guy, like ta give him business. Has silk linings."

"I would swear on scout's honor back ta accept," she raises her hands palms up and shakes her head, "But I got kicked out fer black market trading thin mints. Almost got a Porsche but they made me give the money back." She then slams her hands upon the table. She smirks, "Glad ta hear yer promise. But if that coulpe request a threesome with ya I shall buy ya a drink whilst saying damn."

Because even if she shipped them, the lovey dovey-ness could get irksome to her at times. Circe leans back into her chair with a sigh, "Hmm," that was a good question. "We ain't sickly. All four branches of the club have members, but we ain't exactly, flush?" Circe taps her chin, "Flush a good word fer healthy? Seems kinda toilet humor. Don't want ta say we're shitty. More clear. We got a lot of transients," Circe laughs, "Oh ho ho ho, I won my crown by being the only angry club member fer a while. But everyone has members and we have a solution fer when we don't."

That was where I was going but with the bonuses going to money.

[Colonel Worm]

A gift? Worm loves gifts! He's never one to turn them down. Accordingly, he looks delighted at her offer. "Wow! Yeah, I mean: thank you! I'll take whatever you're in the mood to forge, whenever you're in the mood to forge it. I've got my own collection," all of his little babies, "but I'm always looking for more sharp and pointy things." The more you have, the more holes you can poke.

The Khornish style? Sure, whatever. As long as she's laughing. "Oh, you like that? You should see me when I'm on my feet." And surely she will, the Colonel tends to dance through this wicked world.

Worm nods along at her offer concerning the ID-man. Some day, some day. But not now. A bazooka, though? That gets his attention. He looks like a kid who's just been told about a particularly large piece of candy. "A bazooka you say? Ever get your hands on one? Ever used it?" Man, what he wouldn't give to blow something up. Visions of concussive explosions, of the Red Lords vaporized, dance in the Goblin's head. How sweet, oh how sweet, it would be.

"I'll keep you updated on the threesome front," he replies with a comical wiggle of his eyebrows, obviously joking. "But you can buy me a drink anytime, don't have to wait on that." A pause: "So, what about you? Got a special someone?" She's one fine-ass Elf. Can't blame a Worm for inquiring.

The status report on the Freehold is pleasing. Worm leans back again, considering the information Circe's provided, scratching at his chin with dirty, Goblin claws. "So, you were on your own at one point? But not anymore, right? We've got soldiers, is what I mean to say." Please tell me we've got soldiers. "What's your sense, are they worth their beans? No offense, I've just seen some rag-tag folks in my time. When do I get to meet them?" Worm's a friendly sort, obviously. But he's also serious about the mission of the Summer Court. He wants to get an eye on the troops.

[Circe]

If he wanted a free blade, well she needed to practice to make that stiletto she kept dreaming up. No harm in sharing. Not the good stuff, he'd probably get something mundane at best. She didn't have the parts to just hand out Hedgespun blades at will.


And it looks like Worm had inclinations similar to Circe's with how he reacted to that ordinance option. Circe grins but lets out a sigh, "Sadly, the answers is yes, yes fer a few seconds, and no." Circe shrugs, "My old crew talked me outta buying it fer more practical and less National Guard attracting options. Like aramid garments." If he doesn't get that she clarifies, "Bulletproof."


It also wasn't technically a bazooka, but webbed feet and bill makes a duck as far as the Summer Queen was concerned. Tubes with rockets that boom is a bazooka.

And well, wasn't that a mood killer. She wasn't sure if one had counted, her last house mate. But that Winter had disappeared. "Call me a bit of a workaholic. That and the last," Circe raises one hand to start counting. Up to five fingers, then down four, "Lot of folks I flirted with weren't inta it. Aside from the monkey girl and grease monkey combo."


Bragging again.


Worm was worried they couldn't fight? A valid worry really. "No," Circe nods her head, "We have fighters. Fist and blade, they have proven competent in battle. They've come back at any rate," Circe smirks, "And the other branches have a few fighters too. The happy Clavinger managed ta take stick it to some rabid mutts amongst the Thorns. And the scary dwarf? Give him props fer going mano-a-mano with a very nasty man eater of a," she spits, "woman."


Sonja Wu could fight but Anatole had Circe's earnest respect from just taking on Iron Meg. The dwarf had serious cahones in her book. "The rest? Not so good at battle but have other skills. Not much point in having a bunch of brawlers if ya can't even find the fight."

[Colonel Worm]

Worm does look sad. Downright despondent for a moment. Who would talk a beautiful woman out of buying a rocket launcher? What kind of monster would not want to see this babe blowing up a car, all outlined in fire and smoke? This is truly a sad world. And then he perks up: "Well, there're always more RPGs in the sea. It'll happen if it's meant to be. Maybe I'll buy you one for your birthday." Say it with balloons? No. Say it with ballistics!

The Colonel watches as Circe tallies up her former flings, realizing that she's currently unattached. So you're saying the Worm's got a shot, he thinks. "Well, if red's your color, I'm always available for anything from light flirtation to more serious endeavors." He makes a smoochy face. "No pressure or anything, just saying: think about it." It's a little creepy, sure. But everything about Worm's a little creepy. It's also goofy and lighthearted. He's not being aggressive, just open. He thinks she's hot, why wouldn't he say it?

The state of the Freehold sounds strong. Though, of course, Worm won't really believe it until he sees things with his own two eyes. Bullshitters abound, after all. Still, he looks pleased with the details provided by Circe.

"Well, that's the good guys. What about threats? What kind of baddies we got on the ground?" Might as well get a full combat assessment while they're at it.

[Circe]

"Oh ho ho ho, I like that thought pattern Worm," she cheers at the idea, practicality be damned. "But avoid Soviet stock. Too old and unreliable." Ironic given her choice in rifles.


"So ya avoidin' the traditional red vs blue? Shame, fun series." Terrible jokes continue. And then he gets into the gritty part. The enemies targets. Circe smirks, "A few less then last year. Cannibal bitch I mentioned is gone. Props ta scary crew fer that brawl. Though her doll making boss is not accounted fer. Yet." The tone and the return of her Mantle should tell Worm Circe has issue with these enemies.


Circe calms down a little before she continues. Well the Mantle is shut off. "We got a Disney Land head honcho that likes ta play out The Most Dangerous Game," that summarized the Huntsman quite well. Worm probably understood the concept even if he hadn't read the story. Circe then smiles at Worm. "But me and the bouncy monkey killed his mutts. And I smashed the effigy that was so deer ta him," she giggles at the pun he'd not know. Then scowls, "No trophy from the latter because wood burns ta ashes. Use bits of the former in my forge though."


Circe then moves on to the other potential threats. As for the rest, "Then the usual suspects. Thorny paths full of monsters, pirates, charlatans, plus once a mundy investigator," Circe chuckles at the last one, "Though if ya know where the club proper resides, it is very easy ta make the mundies back off with a few, hmm, accusations."


Accusing and showing evidence of adults using hidden cameras at a children's theme park. A great way to make any investigator lose their license and possibly get killed in jail.

[Colonel Worm]

Worm taps his noggin with a long, red finger. "One thing about me, Circe? Always thinking." Even if his thoughts aren't always clear. Or what most would call sane.

"I love a good rivalry," he responds. "Sharks vs. Jets, Birds vs. Worms, General Contractors vs. Small Claims Court. But, in this case, I think red and blue can put aside their differences." The Colonel mirrors her smirk. But, before he can continue the charm offensive, they've moved on to more serious matters. No big deal. It's a marathon, not a sprint.

Props to scary crew? OK. Props to scary crew. He kisses two fingers and holds it up. Props.

Circe's mantle communicates her focus on the Doll Maker and Worm takes note. His own mantle seems to ramp up in concert. The vague pattern of heat shimmer around him becomes more intense, more disorienting for a moment. "Ugh. Hate dolls. Really creepy stuff. Always feel like they're watching me," he says with a little shudder. "Any leads on that end? Or are we waiting for her to pop back up on her own accord?" Either way would work, really.

Worm's never read the story, but he has seen the movies: both the 1932 original and the loose remake (which he prefers) Surviving the Game, starring Ice-T and Gary Busey. A modern classic. "Effigy, huh? What's that mean?" Worm is not familiar.

"A normie looking into our business?" Odd. Interesting. Worm is intrigued. "How did that happen? I'm assuming it's been tied off?" If not, Worm will want in. He loves messing around with normies. They're so dang cute.

"Plenty to keep us busy, huh?" He chuckles and rubs his hands together like he's just set down before a delicious meal. "Can't wait to get started."

[Circe]

"Good," she agrees, "Beats being a muscle head." Not the standard Summer sentiment but who wanted to be standard? And wait, did he not get? Right. She'd have to explain it in a more private...setting. Circe's right eyebrow and ear twitch as a grimace crosses her face.


This room was clean of surveillance and mortals. She didn't have to use club speak. Circe sighs, "Been using club speak ta hide fey stuff when I don't need to." Circe inhales, "The dollmaker in this case is makes fetching dolls. Her operations have taken a major blow by us. Her oldest lieutenant is gone, her collection of gates went up in fireworks, eeeh," she winces, "Or got smashed by king scary. Patrols are looking in the Thorns," she nods then folds her arms, "And I'm looking through computers fer any trails. Or pictures of her when I search the camera feeds."


In theory, Circe could create a APB for Anne's mask on some crime that'd get the police on her trail too. Have to ask. Then Circe puts on a smirk that screams I am ceasing this moment. "Effigy, noun, a kind of sculpture." Circe watches Worm's reaction for a moment, drinking it in. Then continues, "In this case, a living wooden deer that he liked which tried to gore me. While it was on fire," blue lips purse in thought, "As was everything around us real quick too." Circe's black and red eyes widen as she smiles, "I won."


As for the mortal investigators, well that was simple enough. "Private eye. Followed club tags as a false lead on something else I think," it hadn't come up ever again and it was the previous Spring Queen who'd gone tag happy. "Put on security badges and jackets, accused them of being pedos fer trying ta film kids, and we ain't seen them again."


Circe laughs as he sums it up, "Always is. Clear out old troubles and new ones try ta fill the void." Circe makes a finger gun, "Target rich environment."


"Excellent," Circe nods in affirmation. Good the gobo was good for violence. "Are ya situated in the city yet? And no," she holds up her hands in an X, "I ain't offering ya my roof. I'd not have lasted this long if I was THAT trusting." She lowers her hands, "But if ya rich enough, I can help ya gobling yer guns."

[Colonel Worm]

He definitely does not get what she's trying to say. But he does catch the grimace. "Uh oh," he says, like a kid who knows he's been bad. "What's the old Worm done to get that face?" The Colonel is many things, but subtle is not one of them. Nor does he seem to have much of a filter.

A hike through the thorns? Looking for a creepy doll maker? What fun! What adventure! Worm can hardly contain his excitement. "Oh, that sounds like the good stuff right there. What I wouldn't give to be out there with 'em, looking for the hag." Who knows, maybe he would get the chance? These things take time after all.

"You look like the winning type, if you don't mind me saying" he gives the elf a wink. "But wait...he liked a deer statue? Like: like liked? And it tried to" he jabs his fingers in the air repeatedly, "get you, huh?" He shakes his looking impressed. Wonders never cease. Even if you want them to. "Is he pissed about his...little friend?"

The normie PI? The pedo angle? It's too much. Worm loses it. He laughs long and hard, eyes squinting, sides heaving. Finally, the fit peters out. "Hoooooo boy. That's good. That's rich. Poor dude. I mean, really, what was he thinking? Still. You gotta feel bad for the guy." The Goblin wipes a tear from his eye.

"Oh I'm getting settled, don't worry about the Worm. Anywhere there's dirt, I've got a bed. The truck works too. But I'm lining things up. Hoping to have more permanent arrangements soon." He's been cruising craigslist, looking for shady housing. The shadier the better when it comes to the Colonel. "Wouldn't dream of asking you to put me up. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, after all."

A pause: "So when do I meet the rest of our folks?" Worm thrives on social interaction and it seems he's dying to meet every single Changeling in the freehold.

[Circe]

"Fortunately," she comments when Worm expresses his desire to kill Anne, "I'm not the type of Summer that insists upon my kill, no kill steals." Circe gives a thumbs up, "It is kill helping! Someone kills the bitch, I buy 'em drinks."


"Oh ho ho ho, yes." Is her answer to the question about the deer, "Yes ta all. It did take a poke at me. And wouldn't ya know it," she props her head in her right hand with the elbow on the table. The left hand waves off, "Deerly impatient and decided that since I didn't point ta a hole a be poked, it'd make several."


Circe laughs along with Worm about the normal. "Oh ho ho ho! Hey, ya make it awkward enough, and nobody questions."


As Worm jumps to that old quote Circe can't help but make her own jest on it, "Ya know, the logic of that saying never made much sense. I mean," she points at her chest, "Yer heart gone, it ain't gonna get bigger," she playfully twirls a lock of hair. It keeps Circe from corpsing, "Meat shrinks when it dries. Wisdom that."


"Hmmm," that was a good question. The Freehold's Summer should meet. "Well, there is a training thing. So long as yer get stoned in," Worm gets a large smile, "That'll be pun later," the elf told the goblin, "Ya can take part in the Summer jamboree we got coming up. Weapons, barbeque, booze, shotugns, all Summer things."


Then shrugs, "Failing that, my coronation where simulated violence will occur. Contests of strength, and live action version of Angry Birds, oh ho ho ho!" Circe watches him to see what his reaction to THAT last one is.

[Colonel Worm]

"I like that attitude, Boss," Worm says, offering Circe a big thumbs up. "The job is the job and done is done." Worm is a soldier, not a warrior. A knight or some shit. This isn't about honor or glory. This is about doing the things that no one else wants to. And the Colonel is happy to share the burden.

"Training? I love training! Love to get hit. And to give a little in turn. You tell me when and where and I'm there." A pause. "And I love to get stoned, so sign me up for that too." He says it like a joke, but the Worm's quite serious.

"Summer are my things, no ifs, ands, or buts. Looking forward to it, for sure."

The Colonel glances at his wrist like he's wearing a watch. He is not wearing a watch. "Look at the time! Think we should call it a night?" Worm's getting hungry. His stomach growls, loud enough for Circe to hear. "Anything else we need to cover before I go grub up?" He doesn't want to be rude. She is the Summer Monarch after all.