Summer Smithy Showoff

[Circe]

This open space within the Hedge is a floor of tamped down blackened earth, bordered mostly by the Thorns but a few areas are a little more, reinforced. Hedgespun boards against the Thorns with clay packing facing inwards near the forge. The forge itself was dark grey stone with veins of blue running through the rock, save for one discolored area that is all blue from the repairs to re-forge said forge.


To the left of this is a boarded up section with lights hanging from the seemingly makeshift roof. The shack is actually quite durable, Circe just too lazy to make it pretty as it is meant to hold mundane tools and equipment. A magical forge was great for forging but gunsmithing and aught else required a different set of tools. There is a tall armoire with a metal mech door, pad-locked, containing several foot lockers that also have padlocks to help secure her armory. This lets her check to see if anything became a token at random.


Further left around the circular Hollow is a bulge outwards. The edge of this bulge is lined with fencing and barbed wire, meant to protect the small garden of beneficial goblin fruit trees. To the right is another little shack, just as well built, with some camping gear and supplies. Plus a military cot, a little hidey hole if needed. Halfway to this spot there is an odd discoloration on the ground. Curtesy of some past experiments done by Circe into electrification.


And then there are the doors. A perfectly ordinary service door leads out of the Hedge to Iron Side while the doorway into the deeper Thorns?


A heavy duty hedgespun door that Circe has reinforced the frame, body of the door, added several dead bolts locks, and a moveable heavy weight to block the bottom of the door that can be slid in place. With brackets to lock it in.


The Summer Queen is relatively, dressed down for work in her Hollow. Cargo slacks, boots, and a Funderland decaled shirt. She was inspecting her armory as she awaited her guest. It seems the resilience of Soviet super exports even applied to fae wyrdness, for it was still just a gun-gun.


Eh, if Jack was looking for some variety to try, she has some glass bottles somewhere. Its a classic.

[Jack Violet]

Jack walked up to the door, hoping he had the right directions as he approached. He was wearing a sleeveless hooded cardigan, with a T-Shirt underneath that said What Does the Fox Say? With a cartoon fox head on it. A pair of dark brown baggy cargo pants tucked into some Doc Marten Boots. He opened the door, knocking as he entered, "Hello Queen Circe, you here?" he said in a loud whisper, not sure how safe the entrance was.

[Circe]

Circe pops out from the gun shed, holding a rifle that seems to have an extra thick barrel on the end and a scope upon it. The SKS carbine is still just Soviet surplus, no token-ification yet. Had someone knocked on the Ironside door? Worth a check, though she grabs a different option than the rifle, that is put back.


Jack finds the door to her Hollow opened with Circe's face barely visible as she eyes him to ensure that it was an expected guest. "Ah, Jack! Get in here," she opens the door wide with a welcoming smile. The swinging door revealing two things to Jack. First is Circe's Hollow. The second is that she had some type of one-handed machinegun in her off hand. She is still being jovial and cordial with him.


Circe will usher him inside before closing the door and clicking the safety on the gun. "Right, you want a seat?" She should have a few folding lawn chairs.

[Jack Violet]

Jack surveyed the Hollow, eyes wide with genuine awe. He’d heard rumors of Court-owned territories being impressive, but he hadn't realized a singular Lost could carve out something this spectacular. "Wow. I didn't know one person could pull off a place like this," he said, before nodding toward the weapon. "And nice piece, by the way. Really glad I knocked."


He waved off the offer to settle in. "Actually, what I’m after doesn't really need a formal sit-down. I don't want to derail your day." He paused, glancing around the unconventional space with a smirk. "Though... where exactly would we sit, anyway?"

[Circe]

Circe clicks the safety on the Beretta to on and slings the submachinegun. "As am I. I'd have to use most of my fruits to heal your legs if you surprised me too badly, oh ho ho ho," Circe sort of jokes to Jack. Sort of.


"Just inventory, so derails are welcome entertainment," Circe clarifies to Jack. Then she retrieves from her storage area what look like a couple of large umbrella tote bags. And then pulls out from inside the bags a chair each, quickly unfolding them and setting them out. Compactible saved space. Also easier to steal. "Ta~dah~ chairs! Don't expect cold beers though."


Her Hollow as more functional than form. Her condo had a jacuzzi bath, full kitchen, fiber-optic Internet, and A/C. Why'd she want to hang out in a Hollow constantly instead? Circe plops herself back into one of the chairs.


"Okay Jack, what's up? Need a gun? Wanna try one?" Circe is eager to keep THAT going.

[Jack Violet]

Jack took the offered seat, settling in but leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He gave a short, appreciative laugh at the 'Ta-dah' moment. "No beer needed. Honestly, seeing how you run this place is enough of a kick."


He watched her for a moment, his amber eyes reflecting the strange light of the Hollow. "Look, the truth is, I’ve been spending more time in the thorns. I'm a Woodblood; the Hedge is where I feel like I'm supposed to be, but I'm tired of just surviving it. I want to be someone who guards it." He took a breath, dropping the humor for a moment. "I’ve heard you’re a Hedge Warden. I was wondering... if you'd be open to taking on an apprentice? I want to learn to walk the paths the way you do."

[Circe]

Circe waits and listens as Jack explains his visit's purpose. Warden? Well, it is good that Jack wishes to protect the Freehold and follow a path of a guardian and all that. There is just one slight problem with him becoming a Warden acolyte under the command of Circe. A slight technicality on the matter of the acquirement of said entitlement.


She was familiar with the Wardens enough to believe she'd achieved step 2 to recruitment: invisible stalker in the library or the giant rainbow shrimp with the falcon punches. Still needed a sworn in Warden for steps 1 and 3. Thus, the snag in the request.


"Technically I am not a Warden. I've no blessing of entitlement at my disposal." Circe feels she should clarify to Jack. "I've armor, guns," she pats the Beretta submachinegun, "Contracts, and chemical warfare," she smiles with arms wide. "It is amazing how many things dislike tear or mustard gas."


Circe wasn't sure if she qualifies. Well, she isn't sure if there were any to recruit her. "I don't think I've got anyone nearby to actually induct me into the ranks, though I probably qualify." She shrugs. "I've scienced machinery to figure out what works here, what don't, and leveraged my career against patrols. Wardens earn magical armor and specialized weapons. I just BUY riot armor, reliably durable guns, and a variety of shotgun shells. Shoot the joints, slow 'em down, pick your target. Cazzo cheat, that stronzo invisibile don't count. Also I buy MREs, that would agitate a Warden."


She figures they'd rage from either her disrespecting the spirit of the Hedge Wardens' survival training, or rage for not thinking of it themselves.


She inhales sharply, then exhales. "So, I am not technically a Hedge Warden path walker. More like, uh, have you seen Predator? That tree chopping with guns scene? THAT," she smiles widely, "THAT is my path and I am happy to help you along it. I mean, if you want to apprentice to a Warden," she gives him a thumbs up, "I'm happy to tagalong for the same. The benefits are supposed to be great...uh, thought renewals could be difficult."

[Jack Violet]

Jack blinked, his head tilting slightly like a fox trying to decipher a strange noise. He stayed leaned forward, but his expression was a mask of pure bewilderment.


"Wait... you aren't... but you do the job? I don't get it."


He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to process the Predator reference alongside the idea of invisible rainbow shrimp. "I’m confused, Circe. I’ve heard the other Lost talking; they call you the Hedge Warden."


He looked around the Hollow again, eyeing the crates of gear and the folding chairs as if seeing them for the first time. "You’re telling me you just 'scienced' your way into a role that’s supposed to be a calling?"


A bewildered, half-broken laugh escaped him then the rumors are way off, "If you aren't actually a Warden, it raises a bigger question: if you're just a solo act with a riot shield and a dream, what the hell have I been watching you do all this time? And more importantly... how are you still alive?"

[Circe]

"Groundskeeper is my official title. Head of security. Local marshal that mugs monsters," she clarifies to him. She hums in thought, and cautiously says: "Calling it a Hedge Warden might summarize it. Uuuuh, could lead to mistakes. I have neither the oath nor the extra powers...unless, uh, unless everyone else THINKS I am a Hedge Warden," she rubs her chin in thought. That was possible, given she was doing the job without the powers. Does that mean she is just damn good at the violence? Or the scouting part?


Though she can think of a reason for WHY she'd do the solo patrols. Not deep patrols, nor always subtle, but she certainly can think of a why. "Aside from the Groundskeeper work, I can think of another label I have that is why I do this stuff: Gun Bunny Smurfette," she nods with pride. Then she goes into a lecturing tone: "Ahem. Shots fired, whilst very fun, attracts cops. More bullet, more fun but bigger cops Bad for business. But in here," she waves her hand to the Thorns. "Here? No cops. Just the occasional feral or raiding hobgoblin whose curiosity results in lead poisoning." Thought the bullets aren't lead. "Much like the unstoppable military, I do NOT skimp on the ammo. Tends to work."


The fact that she could leg it faster in riot armor than most could in plate probably helped. Add in kneecapping the foe when additional gains required. Or gas.


"Eh," she waves her hand in the sort of gesture about sciences her way into being a Hedge Warden. "More wondering what shit works in the Thorns leading to me HAVING destructive stuff that works in the Thorns. Might be good the truck didn't work. Oh! And naturally me wanting to USE destructive stuff. Like I said, no cops and since I have a steady supply of bullets, firing off a few hundred rounds a week ain't a problem. Plus I have the gasmask and gas trick, it has been toot sweet several times on stronzi."


Queen Anne and a couple of Briar Wolves. She was pretty sure the scent of the tear gas was repelling some Briar Wolves now. She hums in thought. "Not building death rays, so not quite mad science, but maybe manic?" There is no hint of jest in her tone, she is quite serious about the classification.


As for what he'd seen her do? "Uh, with the puns I guess 80s action-hero? Iron Siders are a LOT more impressive and dangerous than most folks think Jack," she starts to speak with confidence. "Look up badass of the week, mortals and their methods are dangerous enough to make Them decide to hide." As for how she was still alive? "Good question!" She points at him on the question of her survival.


"I am weird in how I worked by the Wyrd for Summer is my answer," she gleefully declares with pride. "Ambush, patience, recon, retreat. I'm tactical with the violence." Circe nods firmly as that sounds more sophisticated than the last summary she gave. Something about running from a fight isn't cowardice as you can just come back with more for another go. More 'lings or kit didn't matter, just more. Or being the ONLY Summer for so long made her very cautious in how hse protected the Freehold. But where is the confidence in that answer?

Extroversion was another factor she would promote: "That and talky hobs like me. And I am quite gregarious with them and figured out lightweight trade good from Ironside: spices."


Circe felt she was good at violence but also at business. Though there are a few exceptions. "I did get mugged once in the Hedge. Just HAD to give the little demands."

[Jack Violet]

Jack’s tension finally melted away, replaced by a grin that lit up his face with a mixture of pure relief and sudden excitement. He shifted forward on the folding chair, the initial shock of her methods giving way to a strange kind of inspiration.


"Well, Groundskeeper," he said, tasting the title. "I guess I still need to track down a proper Warden to get the official title and the fancy thorns. But in the meantime, how would you feel about having one in training by your side? What do you say, Circe? Just us two Summers, taking care of the yard and making the Hedge a hell of a lot safer for the Sacramento Freehold?"


He paused, his fox-like ears practically twitching as his mind caught up to the last part of her story. He tilted his head, backtracking with a smirk. "Wait, you actually got mugged? How did you deal with that? Did you go back later and give them a terminal case of 'lead poisoning'? And speaking of... is lead poisoning anything like soap poisoning? You know, like that old Christmas movie with the kid, the bunny suit, and the BB gun?"