A day at the Derby

[Kray]

The Ogre is having trouble keeping an eye on both the horses he now has an investment in. Needing four to lose and wanting six to win. ''Done. And done it is.'' It might not be one of his pledges but he expects agreements made in fun, goof faith or mutual need to be honoured none the less, and has no reason to think they won't be. The Wyrd is not ours alone, never know when it can snag or twist of something we say better to show such things the respect they deserve, or else find yourself in a situation of your own making.

A eyebrow raising contorts his horrid features. ''Uh. I can in one sitting easy, in one go ... now that might be beyond even my jaw.'' Large and powerful as it was, forced ever open by the chaotic amalgamation of oversized stony teeth. He takes half a step away at the mantle flair. The heat she gives of is impressive. ''Hm. Before we try that lets see how I do in come summer, I think me and Sonnie got a little something going on at your expense.'' The giant looms tall and menacing but seems to be excited by this prospect.

Turning then first to Anatole as he says something odd. Lost. The pupiless bulbous yellow orbs of his eyes follow the Harvest kings gaze until flinty iris settle on ... what might be a distant relative if lost could ever claim such things ... Well now. The newcomer might be smaller then the obese, barrel chested giant but that didn't always mean much. He takes his great grey hand away from between his horn nubbins, off his hat which he had yet to do since thinking Circe was after it again. What can be seen of his ashy skin looks diseased, scabbed and blotchy. ''And who might you be.'' The deep voice is neither harsh nor welcoming, only asking.

[Maggie Magpie]

The fire-veined ogress settled her gaze on the Smith as he spoke, taking the few steps necessary to properly join the group as she studied the Burned Dwarf just as he did the same with her. The twisting shadows, the heat, and the sound of distant, singing metal... it bore an image to Maggie's mind of the descent of Summer and the terrible rise of something new. With the distance closed, the heat of Maggie's own mantle could be felt, though it wasn't stifling at least, a symbol of the ogress' calm mind.

"Think we all are," she answered as he asked his question before her baleful eyes followed the pointed finger, "Nah. People in there are stuffy, s'why I decided to take my bottle for a stroll. 'sides, I'm mostly just here to look at the horses."

Looking back to the deep-voiced cousin among these strangers, Maggie's yellow eyes met his. She was far smaller than this man, but she didn't wilt, though her eyes eventually grew distracted, briefly staring off into space as she followed the illusory flames of the larger Ogre's Mantle.

"Maggie," she said as she refocused her gaze on the large, decayed husk, "and you?"

The feral Lost would briefly glance to the oblivious, exotic-looking businesswoman, not the dry heat emanating from her. Maggie then sniffs loudly, an effect of the plethora of smells around them, and reaches up with her free hand to wipe her nose as she somewhat absently considers affiliations of the assembled.

"Figured I'd run into others," she said, "but I didn't think it'd be so soon after I got into town. How's... things, I guess?"

Finally, the near-forgotten beer bottle finds its way to Maggie's lips once more, the ogress appreciative of the respite from her very stilted introduction.

[Circe]

"Verily," she nods when Kray declares done their bargaining. The goofy faith agreement was made, so the bargain was set for Circe to lose. She expected to, yet didn't care. It would be fun.


Circe smirks and gives an open handed up shrug, shaking her head, "Hey, what is wrong with taking advantage of friends with deep pockets and generosity?" Circe flatters herself. "Not like yer worried about me going haywire just because of a little too much Summer heat. Or setting ya on a quest as recompense." She gives a unsettling smile, "I'd hafta find a goal for that first, oh ho ho ho!"


Then the way Anatole emphasized Lost got her attention. Good or bad, her hand is in her jacket. Oh, she now saw the noob. An unknown noob with fire and weight. Where some might balk at the appearance, well, this was Circe. She was many things, most of them troublesome, but somebody's countenance rarely gave her pause. Probably because she could get along with hobgoblins, despite their horrid hygiene.


"Hmm?" She tilts her head in curiosity. The scary smile giving way to something kinder. Or at least the salesman's smile she uses during business, no teeth showing. She was quite curious about this, well, maybe a Troll or another Gristlegrinder? Seemed like an Ogre for sure to the blue Fairest. Though an unfortunately proportioned Elemental wasn't impossible, given the fiery lines. But civil, so her hand leaves the jacket.


Circe decides to just barge ahead with questions. Might as well do the Fairest diplomacy thing. Or be the annoying cop so the boys could be the nice cop.


She is all good cheer and kindness now, "Fortunately not so lost as to seek scientology, avoid that," she says in her Jersy accent before the Larcenist chuckles at her joke. It'd deflect the subjects around. Though she has to agree on the interior area, "Ah, yes. Soooo many cheap cigars."


The Larcenist purses her blue lips, her name-name is odd in mortal circles. But it can come out in a way if she just does one thing. Be annoying. Easy.


"Circe for fun," she gives a slight bow and flourish, "Though Mary when I have to ironically not be contrary," she introduces herself and her alias to this Maggie. Was this 'ling fresh out of Arcadia or from somewhere else then? "The shortest answer is, well," she taps her chin, thinking for a moment. "The shortest answer would be our lil' club is good. But," she shrugs, "Ya know how it is. Problems always come and go. Club business getting poked, shysters at the flea market, hiking trails infested with poison oak, and group fishing trips keep getting put off." She frowns and lets out a huff at the last one. "I got covered in crab entrails after the last solo trip. It ruined an effective outfit."


She puts her left hand on her left hip, giving Maggie a curious look. "Are you new to our club membership completely, or from another branch outside of town?"

[Anatole]

"Wise choice. Many are here for the horses..."

The Burned Dwarf murmured, watching Maggie as much as his companions Kray and Circe. The Ogre Ashen Courtier appeared to have things in hand, as did the Crimson Queen; which meant that he didn't have to add much more.

"The Wyrd moves... And when it does things line up as they should, I suspect."

His eyes flick again to Circe as she uses her double speak; he stands by, taking the opportune moment to shovel another mouthful from his food. He really needs to find a bin: the whole thing is slowly dissolving into a cool soggy lump.

"If you were looking for guides, perhaps we can help."

He hadn't dropped his name, yet.

[Kray]

The summer queen gets a calculated look. ''Oh. Plenty of ways to get into trouble borrowing form those who have more then you do.'' Live within you means, its safer. But the gatherings had shown to be done in good faith and in his mind different from favours or loans. ''Always know the terms if your shaking hands. But I get the feeling you already know that.'' And bad form on those who don't hold to them.

Hungry gaze returns to the new fiery lost. ''Ah. Yes the horses.'' He had momentarily forgotten, talk of betting and all his focus was not on the actual race. ''Should keep an eye on those myself.'' A few moments to ponder, to adjust to the increasing temperatures. ''Maggie is it.'' A good point of reminder. ''John, although friends have another name for me.'' If she would be a friend, would wait to be seen and if so she would get the rest. And if she's trouble good luck tracing the name John anywhere.

Both sovereigns raise good questions, and he has no desire to get in the way so, civilities observed. He quietens to listen.

[Maggie Magpie]

"Gotcha, good to meet ya, Mary," the feral ogress offered. At her question, Maggie thinks for a moment, piecing together how to put it.

"Not new, no. Joined up after a little vacay a good while ago, but I've traveled a lot since then. To find myself I guess? I just kinda needed to get away and think," they said, "Hit up a few other club locations since then, but I never stayed long. Then I mentioned to some friends a few weeks back that I was lookin' to set down roots. They said the Summer in Sacramento tends to be pretty lit and that happens to be my favorite season. So here we are."

A look is granted to the Wizened.

"Sure, I'd love that," they admitted, relaxing a bit as progress seemed to be being made, "If you know anyone like me, let 'em know I'm around?"

The second part of her statement is accompanied the ogress pointing to herself or, more specifically, the red, glowing core beneath the flesh of her chest.

"Other folks that like Summer would be cool," she offered, in the case it wasn't clear enough, "You know, to make the best connections and such."

Finally, the baleful eyes find 'John' again. His demeanor seemed almost stony to Maggie. Guarded. It was enough to make the ogress smile a little, the errant light of the arena glinting the sharp teeth that accompanied her tusks.

"Fair enough," Maggie replied, "Just Maggie for me regardless... Keeps things simple."