"Well, what do you think you could do here Mary?" Spartan asked, The Forge did not have that many things someone could do for a living. Security, Bartender, payroll. Well we could always use more bartenders. And now we might have our own brewmaster... depending on how things worked out with... Spartan turned to What's his name, "So your name?" Spartan raised an eyebrow.
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The grizzled, old wizened raises an eyebrow, a slightly bemused look on his face. "Call me Magnus." His response is short, but he offers the low-ball of whiskey. "Next drink?"
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Marcus's features match his shoulders as they droop in disappointment at Rook's words. Shrugging it off, the metalflesh grips Tom's wooden hand in a hearty handshake.
"Nice match."
Putting his arm around his fellow elemental's shoulder, he leads the way back up to the mez. Giving Tom one last slap on the back, he releases the woodblood before addressing his king.
"I didn't realize there was a time limit. I was just getting started."
"Didn't want you to hurt my new security guard too much." Spartan says with a nod to the Wood Blood. "You will answer to Joanne, try not to piss her off, she has a mean left hook.
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Mary pondered the question, saying, "You have a point, I suppose, so unless you have any ideas I'll just be on my merry way. Any thoughts before I head out?" She swayed a bit as she spoke, her body apparently preparing to leave.
Rook glanced at Marcus as he headed back up to the top tier. To Hell with it. He was tired of watching the other Summers being able to throw down.
"If you promise to watch the sunglasses, I'll go a couple of rounds with you," the Metalflesh offered. He folded his arms across his suited chest. "Just don't knock them off. I'd hate to end up having to explain to a crowd."
With a tongue that won't permit me to lie.
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Marcus considers Rook's offer, but can't quite work out how to avoid knocking off the man's shades during their bout, considering the forceful, full-contact nature of his fighting style. In the end, he simply shrugs at his fellow metalflesh.
"I'm afraid that's a promise I won't be able to keep, mate. But maybe Spartan would let us use the cage after hours."
Not for the first time, Marcus wonders why his fellow courtier doesn't do something to fix that particular crack in his mask.
"We are winding down now anyway. The band looks like they are almost done with there set." Spartan says and polishes off his drink. "Pumpkin, Tom, Ion, talk to Joanne about getting put on the schedule. Magnus, lets talk about getting you set up." Spartan says and walks toward his office.
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End Scene. Great work, guys, this thread was a fun read.@ Steven, I'm totally jealous that I never thought to have Sam simply do a 'Looking for Work' thread
If Spartan and Magnus actually need to have a talk, or anyone else, you can do that as a Hollows.
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