Summer's Respite

[Saber Sloth]

4 days left! Get your last posts in!

[James Turner]

John and Rhodes seemed to be on the same page, as he nodded his agreement. "Yea, it sounds wonderful. I'll bring a thermos of coffee, it'll be nice." He usually liked his bouts of nature paired with nicotine or caffeine and he figured the tree wouldn't like the fire. "Always best to be prepared, if you ever go on Patrol it'll be good to know what Predators are usual and which to look out for."


"Hey Gerrit, pleasant enough time. Yourself?" John offered a warm smile in return to the Ogre as he joined, looking over to where the eating contest had been to see what destruction might be left and then turned back to the group. "Tyrants don't have the luxury of friends either. I'm going to keep an ear out either way." His mantle bristled, soft puffs of air escaping his lips before it settled back in. "This market is more permanent, yes. Assuming the original owner doesn't return but if they do we have bigger problems."


John quickly shook his head when asked if he was going by the rules. "I think I'll stick with a fork and knife but thank you Circe. Cold cocked huh? Sounds like someone has ambition." He chuckled softly really hoping it wasn't a sore spot. "You could do Bocce, croquet, something dream related. It's still really festive and original, you guys pulled out all the stops." He raised his glass to Circe and smile before killing it.

[Liam Gelt]

Before Liam can form a thought of protest be blurts out, "Great! How's about [date]; [time]?" Though the Giant is flexible in arranging his future appointment with James and Rhodes. I'll really need to find the time to clean out the apartment...and the Hollow. "I'm sure you'll like it."

And finally Liam gets a good, long look at Gerrit. How is it that we get mixed up so often? Liam wonders to himself. Though not out of unkindness; even with the pinkish, scabbed skin and shorter build he could see Gerrit had a welcoming smile. Maybe it was a compliment? "Hey, Gerrit! Not quite Summer, I'm Spring actually; I just thought I'd help out with the Coronation. I'm working on my bartending chops as a way of getting to know folks in and out of the Freehold. Anything you'd like? If alcohol's not your thing then I can make you an Arnold Palmer." He motions to iced tea and lemonade set next to the other inebriating beverages.

Seeing things begin to wind down, Liam bellows out "All right! Last call! All ashore that's going ashore!" He pauses, wondering if he made the right choice of words. "Or, going a-wet? Awash? Anyway, come and get your drinks." He certainly wouldn't complain if he had less to carry home.

[Gerrit]

Suddenly Gerrit felt very stupid for wearing that paper crown. "Thank you John, I'm having fun." Of course he didn't need a roaring applause or praise from anyone, but he maybe would have expected any kind of reaction? Do they think I am just wearing it for fun? Should I just take it off?

Then he got what the others were just talking about and was embarrassed for making this about himself again. Anatole's tale about the market was chilling and people being traded or enslaved was really more important than eating watermelons quickly. Plus, hearing that made a dull anger grow in Gerrit's guts. This wasn't right. This wasn't right at all. "Sorry I've just joined this conversation: do you- uh, is there anything you want to do about this?"

Yes, Liam belonging to Spring made more sense. Nice of him to help out here and bartending was a really.. interesting profession to have. Gerrit again realized that he hasn't really talked to the newcomer of the Freehold yet. He definitely needed to get out more. "Oh, uh thanks then I'll have the Arnold Palmer." How considerate of the Giant to offer a non-alcoholic option straight away. "You seem to know your stuff. Uh, I know it's getting late but I'd really like to sit down and talk to you a bit more. What do you say?" Of course, half of the work when making such plans was actually following through. He hoped that suggesting this here would get him to actually do that, as if he was keeping a promise.
The things it took to make him more social.

[Colonel Worm]

His workout with Viv at an end, the Colonel strolls toward the bar, uncapped flask in hand.

His other hand holds the technicolor suit jacket thrown over his shoulder, leaving him shirtless; his scarred, red flesh visible to all. The exposure does not seem to bother the Goblin in the slightest.

"Gentlemen!" He announces with great, good humor. Clearly in high spirits. Flushed with recent exertions. And booze. "My Queen," an elaborate bow to Circe.

He straightens. "I do believe that was last call. Good thing I brought my own." A wink to Liam. He raises the flask to his lips only to find it empty. Lifts the thing and peers into it with a squinted left eye, as if he might find more hiding within. "Well shit."

Eyes return to Liam, "Any more tequila back there?" he asks, sheepish.

Continued from (2106) Summer Solstice...

[Anatole]

"I'll take another whisky, gladly."

A cat-like gin sprang across the burned dwarf's effusive curls.

"Add it to the list," Anatole grunted at Gerrit

The wizened dwarf frowned, made a sour face, and then tried again. The big Ogre was a friend, after all.

"As the Winter Sovereign says, we have more important things to worry about. When hobs gather, they trade - pretty much anything. I reckon it must be an unwritten law of the Hedge. On top that, the Market - this Ambrosial Delights - is built on the ruins of another Market, so I doubt that we could keep it down for long: something else would simply appear on the spot, possibly even worse than what is there now."

He sighed, blowing out his moustaches.

"From what I've seen, this Ambrosial Delights goblin market is not a threat to us - at least not directly. Yes, there are Lost there... slaves or indentured (ha!) servants or caught in arcane Pledges they can't escape - I don't know... I got a sense it was more the later - trapped in Pledges so, again, be careful when trading out there. We have other more pressing matters - Queen Anne and whatever allies she has left, for one; I keep hearing the Freehold has attracted the interest of at least one Gentry as well... some Huntsman or something to that effect... So that is two much more major threats to contend with."

He looked sombrely at Gerrit.

"Unless you can think of a peaceful solution that either gets the Market to move on, or else you find a way to buy out the enslaved Lost from the Market's owners, I think we are going to have to live with it."

Somewhere in his conversation, he managed to pivot and give the newcomer @Colenel Worm a friendly nod... Followed by another scowl.

[Circe]

Coffee? Oh, something private. And correct about knowing what predators to expect being important. Circe wasn't sure whom the tyrants of hte market were, like at all. She should learn that. And who was this previous owner? The dragon? "So, who are the tyrants yer talking about John?" Best to ask, "Just in case skulls need capping. I mean, yer sounding like maybe threats with that talk and Imma the Groundskeeper. Plus chief blueberry skull stomper, erm, Summer boss too."


Then she turns to Anatole, "The whore queen is a major threat that needs ta die, a lot." Circe barely holds in her Mantle, "I really want ta get her in my sights and blow that bitch's head off." She drains her booze. "I'll take a refill Liam, please and carrots. Oh! Then there are the mortal monster hunters after that Gentry. Organized guys, so wipeout could be bad. But if they see us as their contact fer fae shit?" Circe doesn't expalin how that could help them, finding it obvious. And more of the Union coming to avenge was very clearly bad.


"We also have more variety of resources then Anne. Markets are Mos Eisley wretched, but Ambrosial Delights prevents backstreet deals so ta speak from bleeding inta Iron Side. Also potentially useful fer trade, information," after a moment she sighs, "Or mercenaries. I'd not object ta posting a bounty fer Anne's head involving a few months of built up guns and ammo. I care not who spills her blood, only that it flows." And spitting on her corpse/head at a minimum would be nice too.
C
irce salutes Colonel Worm with her drink, "My Colonel, how went yer glorious bopper battle?!" Crochet? No, wait, "The flamingo ball game from Alice in Wonderland?" She salutes John with her own glass now, "That'd be something. Not real birds though, too hard ta wrangle."


"Oh ho ho ho! Fun Liam," she cheers at the last call, "And I only started, such a shame, but I've only myself ta blame." If refilled she will sip her alcohol. "Well, might as well get drunk before I hafta handle the clean uuup, ooh," that was a good hit with the cupcakes. "Maybe I should'a thrown down tarps or something fer that. Eh, fuck it," she downs have of the tequila in one go, "Ah, drunk then clean up, best plan!"

[Rhodes]

As Anatole described the route, Rhodes took a note in his book, giving John a small nod. Sounded like a day trip.

Eyes Narrowed as Circe Elaborated. "Hmmm. Well. I doubt we can address that until we know a little more of the place. Any more pointers on mortal trade than assault rifles?" He glances over the shoulder to the other summers around the room. "Well, I can only hope she will be civil." And if not? A Dread Lord always had tricks up his sleeve.

Eyebrows twitch as Liam is eager to expose his location. Some are so incautious. Then again, the Wyrdstone was at least a measure of defense here. It was so easy to forget. "Sounds excellent."

Eyes glance between John and Gerrit. "Original owner? Something we need to keep an eye on?" He frowns at the Orge's suggesstion of action, waving a hand to Anatole's quick response. "I would have to agree with my Wizened friend here. We can't afford to start a war, but if they are pulling people from the city, after Meg this could all too easily find it's way back to us. Hobs trading hobs? Well, I suspect that none of us would accept the idea of captivity, but a hob is just as likely to escape as become a slave."

After all, they aren't people.

The whispers of Rhodes' mantle suddenly rise in his ears as a feminine cackle, almost shrieking, and the Dread Lord's head snaps around in fear. Seeing nothing, the Dread Lord wrestles his composure under control.

"Ah.... we... we certainly would need more insight in this... Ambrosia Delights? Interesting choice of name. I would be more than happy to arrange another trip to see for myself." He makes another note in his book. This was turning into a profitable night of insight. But also a good time to test the rumour mill's effectiveness. "From the regular observations of the Dreaming between the Monarchs of Spring, Winter and Myself, the Huntsman has not made himself known in several months. He is either lying low or has moved on, following successful destabilization campaigns against him in the Dream, Hedge and human worlds. For now? Ann is the priority." The Dread Lord mantle flickers an Icy breeze to everyone nearby. "She has overseen the Taking of humans, her underlings caused death and pain to..." MY.. "... our own. I want to remove what influence she has here. Hopefully everyone has heard of the motel over by [location]? A Hedge gate and access to an orchard of goblin fruits producing a sedative liquor - essentially drugging and kidnapping her slave victims. The operation is disrupted, building in flames and We removed Ann's right hand, Iron Meg, in the process through Anatole's plan." Credit. So simple, but what reflected on the Court reflected on the King. "But, there is still much to do."

Eyes snap to Circe. "Mortal hunters? They'll die... Or be captured." Rhodes sounds part curious, part thoughtful. And it would serve them right. Heroes were always idiots. Easier if they found a way into the hedge and never returned. After all, they're only human. Fucking in things they don't understand. "Still, we should be particularly wary if there are mortals looking for Fae. Full masks, and so on...." As if he went out doing anything else. Fear was permanent. "Any idea which parts of town are being searched?" These were things they now needed to know.

BoxingUnicorn if you want to make up a separate scene for that meeting, I'm all for that

[Saber Sloth]

Last Day get your last posts in!!

[Gerrit]

Gerrit felt his face turn hot. They were right: he should learn to pick his battles. It was impossible to safe everbody.

"You're right, I guess." He nodded once at Anatole, at Rhodes. So Anne was the priority and it seemed like the Autumn Court was already working on a plan. Gerrit considered reminding Anatole that he owed the Wizened, but decided to stay silent instead. Maybe bugging him about it would do more harm than good.

He wanted to add to Circe's point about the Grey Hoods, however. "They seem to have made [area] their turf. Same blocks that had the initial problems with the Huntsman a while ago. We saw several surveillance cameras, so they seem to be at least worthy of consideration. Uhm, maybe we can improve our standing with them somehow. Keep them out of real trouble while gaining a source of information maybe?"

When Colonel Worm joined Gerrit pressed his lips together tightly, as if he'd bitten into a lemon. That Goblin certainly was a carefree and dashing fellow.
And he spent the whole Coronation with Vivian. "Hello, I think we haven't met yet. I'm Gerrit." His voice was hard and even, he didn't want to let his irrational feelings spoil the first impression he might make.

But that was all the bonding Gerrit would be doing tonight. "Uhm, it's getting pretty late. Circe, thank you for the great party. Have a good night, everyone."
With that he tried to make eye contact with the busy Elemental again before going home.

Great scene everyone. Here's to Summer!