RP: Bob an Apple, Save the World

This is a Warriors Guild RP

Part of the Dissonance Theory arc

Synopsis: An autumn recruiting event at Vigilanti Semper following the Warriors Guild mission to the Demon Archipelago. This edit contains primarily the sparring event. The social event will be linked once it has been uploaded.

INTRODUCTIONS & OPENING

The outside of Vigilant Semper had been transformed by guild members and staff alike, one such vampire had moved the animals away from their normal pasture, goats, horses and pigs moved into stalls and behind a makeshift fence erected to keep them away from the set up outside of the Southwest wing. The grounds were transformed into a fair of sorts. To the right is a waist-high barricade, blocking in a large sparring arena. In each corner is a 15-gallon barrel, each filled with a liquid of some sort but sealed so that it’s impossible to tell for sure what exactly would spill out if broken open. Directly in the center of the arena is a tree that normally provided shade for the animals, today it’s grand branches are littered with decorations - pin-up ghosts and goblins and streamers that move in each gust to distract the participants, higher up in the branches are wind chimes of various sizes, the sound twinkling as they shift in the breeze and the leaves flash their colours. The more cautious staff-members ensured that the proper enchantments were placed on the arena to keep the violence within the barrier while still allowing those who’d come to see what the guild had to offer the chance to watch or participate should they so choose. Just outside of the barricade is a sign instructing those interested to inform Lionel, and when their turn comes, a young boy - maybe 12 or 13 - will come to gather them, freckle-faced and eager to meet the warriors as he leads them to the arena and closes them inside for their turn.

To the left, some who were musically gifted gathered together, the soft sounds of guitar, violin, cello, and a flute are amplified across the grounds at a reasonable level regardless of where one stood. Directly beside the area was designated for Snacks by Khitti and all that it entailed for the guests. Other offerings of savoury food, meats, squash, chilli, and of course mead, cider - alcoholic and not - and other drinks are laid out on tables nearby courtesy of Black Bear and Old Rimby. Then there was the main event, a booth erected for the Warriors Guild to recruit out of. Made out of wood and painted with the guild’s sigil, a recruit is seated there to answer questions while the others are busy - truthfully, he would have been relieved for the chance to summon over a more experienced member, but saying no wasn’t his strong suit. Enclosing the area is a final booth painted in shades to match the trees, this one featuring crafts for the little ones - pumpkins to paint, beads to string together into jewelry for their obviously-proud parents, and wooden swords for them to take home - directly opposite and as far from the fighting as possible. A few soft-spoken men work within it, seated on the ground with the children to keep them busy while their parents socialize. It sits directly beside the makeshift animal pen, and the children are able to reach in to pet the goats that were still convinced hair and clothes were food despite a proper diet and little cups of carrots and apples that were available for them on the counter just waiting to be given as treats.

The trees had started to turn already, painting the world around them and the trees on their grounds in shades of gold, red, yellow, and fading greens where the leaves held their colour. The ground hadn’t yet been blanketed by them, they hadn’t started to truly fall in earnest. The area was well kept, the grounds cleaned up thoroughly by their keepers to leave an even blanketing of grass for fairgoers to walk over where normally the animals roamed. The last chance to show off their handiwork before it was covered in snow for the remainder of the year. It had inspired them, and despite not being prompted someone had set up three more barrels of water, these ones filled up with apples for bobbing of all different colours and varieties. Signs are erected beside them announcing the intention that people bob for them in a last-ditch effort to diffuse the tension that had been rampant through the keep since they returned from their last mission.

The recruit whose poor job it was to service those who came to the Warrior's Guild recruitment booth today was Biggs Wedge, a short, thin young man with brown hair and beaming hazel eyes. He was patently exhausted from a long week's worth of training but stood proudly, happy to be here even if he would have preferred literally any other role. Biggs Wedge was especially fond of the musicians, though he lacked their talent, or at least their degree of skill; someday, perhaps, that would be him up there rocking a cello. Lionel was elsewhere, scratching the nape of his neck because a damned mosquito had decided it was a very nice neck indeed not ten minutes before the event began. Dressed in his usual array of a loose black silk shirt and matching slacks, he moseyed around the perimeter, trying to get his legs used to walking again after a full month spent in a cave talking to two women from a year into the future who had no appreciation at all for the importance of stretching one's muscles on a daily basis. (Not that they were the ones who had restrained him, but Lionel wanted to blame somebody, somehow, in some fashion.) When Jessie Raspberry, a prominent scientist and archaeologist at Vigilanti Semper, tapped him squarely on the shoulder, Lionel was staring at one of those lovely, multicoloured trees, taking in the refreshing breeze. "You're supposed to go explain the sparring thing now," Jessie said -- and not for the first time. "OK," the Imperator at last acquiesced. "But I'm not gonna take part in it." Jessie was a bit dumbfounded. Wasn't Lionel in a bunch of battles? She had witnessed his impressive agility firsthand several days ago, at the Demon Archipelago. Why didn't he want to spar? "Because I'm not all that into it," Lionel answered her before she even had to ask. "But the folks will have fun. Prizes will be won. And I get to eat food all-the-while."

Lionel arched his back; then he flailed his arms and cracked his shoulders. Sore muscles. Still. That cave did more damage than he'd realized. "Yo," he announced unceremoniously, standing dead-center of the fair now so that he didn't have to raise his voice any louder. "First, I wanna welcome y'all to this big thing. It's a really big thing. And it couldn't have happened without Rilla. So give Rilla a round of applause, and then I want you to congratulate her for becoming an official member of the Warrior's Guild as of the end of this sentence, because I said so, and because she deserves it, and also I'll not take no for an answer." Biggs Wedge and Jessie Raspberry blinked in unison from opposite sides of the fairgrounds before clapping as ordered and congratulating Rilla. "Good, good," Lionel continued whenever the crowd calmed down, be it from respect or disarray or a little bit of columns A and B alike. "Khitti's seriously spoiled us on snacks and Old Rimby and Blackbeard have prepared some fine drinking and dining." "Black Bear," one of the Semper's pub owners corrected, to wit Lionel coughed awkwardly and moved on. "If you're looking to join our little, uh, paramilitary family, then we'd love to have ya, but do remember that we're the beacon in the darkness fighting the foes who stalk the night so that the good folks don't have to. In smarter terms, we kick the asses of the cruel and take all their stuff afterward so that they feel even worse for being stupid. The pay is honestly not the best but this looks great on resumes. And almost everyone is at least half as strange as I am, so if you've ever felt out-of-place, you might be surprised what a little swordplay soup can do for the soul."

"Anyway, the biggest thing we've got going on tonight is a bob-for-apples game, but that's just my personal opinion as an avid fan of apple-bobbing. Everyone else is of the sterling opinion that our sparring ring is the real draw and I welcome each and every one of you, including Jessie Raspberry who is just now finding out she's a participant," Jessie sighed dramatically and wondered for the fifth time today why her boss was such a Michael from The Office, "to partake." Lionel began to wave his hands around demonstrably to mixed levels of success. "The way it works, you're gonna love this, everyone who wants in lets me know, and then you all go in an order of my randomly-generated choosing, and then the first guy or gal comes at the second guy or gal with all they've got. And then the second guy or gal on the list defends against the first guy or gal on the list and then attacks the third guy or gal. It keeps going, fourth and fifth and sixth and seventh and eight-hundredth, until it loops back around to that very first guy or gal, who defends the last attack. Someone will swing by and let you know when it's your turn, so have fun doing whatever else it is that you enjoy doing (unless it's bad) until they do. So that's the last thing on my script, so come let me know if you're in and we can get things going, and in the meantime, I have a hot date with some barbecued chicken."

Why was Rilla here? Even she couldn’t be sure. She’d apparently saved a bunch of people’s lives who she barely knew and now she had people who wanted to spend time with her, or ask her opinion on things. She lingered off to the side, watching as people trickled in after setting up the arena and removing the animals that normally called this space theirs. Dressed all in her standard dark colours, leggings and a semi-sheer navy blouse, but armed visibly for a change. A shortsword at her side, a dagger strapped to the other thigh as she moved through the crowd, one eye on Lionel for his cue to begin.. Arms crossed over her chest, she looked up at him when he said her name. For a moment she was unsure about what exactly was going on, and she was absolutely certain that if she could have blushed she would have. She stared Lionel down just a little harder for each set of eyes that she felt on her, but a wry smile pulled over her face all the same and the young vampire raised a hand in thanks for the applause. She waited until he was done, crossing the space between herself and Lionel too quickly, only to elbow him gently in the side. “That’s for the surprise.” She joked as she fell into step with him, pushing auburn curls back from her face. “So now I’m in your guild? Isn’t there usually some kind of recruitment process, or do you just let in anyone who shows up?”

After the events with the Demon Archipelago, it seemed appropriate that Iintahquohae properly join the Warrior's Guild. She arrives as she had before, touching ground at a distance from Vigilanti Semper from the back of her couatl, then walking the rest of the way. She is decidedly less of a haggard mess than the last time anyone from that trip had seen her – Gone is the black goo and Kasyr's likely discarded, bloodied jacket, and she is dressed in her usual black pants, boots, and pale grey button up. Her braids are undone today, leaving her mane of thick black curls to twist in gusts of wind. The serpent tattoo-turned-scales encircling her neck are more prominent now, without the collar of her sire's jacket obscuring them, and a scimitar sits in its black scabbard on her right hip. A new iron bat, since the last one unfortunately was left behind in the Cave of Regrets, rests on the left hip in a makeshift scabbard of sorts, if you could even call it that. The handle's basically tied to her pants with some leather cording through a belt loop. Catching the tail end of applause for Rilla, her gloved hands clap a few times while sidling up to the other vampire, grinning. “Look at you, doin' stuff. How've you been since Cenril?”

Orion and Kailani (OriKai if you will) arrive on the back of a white and heavily feathered white winter griffon..save for the animal's beaks, talons, and wings. The rapid descent of the bunch stirs up a bunch of dust and what not. Grimclaw lands with a heavy thud and Orion hops off the griffon's back immediately to offer Kailani a helping hand. The bardbarian is wearing simple clothing: A winter wolf pelt vest with no undershirt, leather pants with a double bladed axe hanging from his hip, simple leather pants, and combat boots. "This looks like fun," he says to Kailani as he waits for her departure from Grimclaw's back.

Lionel did the thing he does best with the smirking and the quasi-innocent shrug. "There's a booth," he chinned toward Biggs Wedge, "but it's presently occupied. I figured your qualifications speak for themselves. Saving the world is kind of a big deal." Giving Inks a cheeky thumbs-up, Catal's Last Prince extended his smirk. "You're looking better today!"

Futsuka of the Swiftclaw Tribe tentatively ventures into the area known as Vigilanti Semper, dressed in simple traveling leathers fitted with a drab cloak draped carelessly around her shoulders. Also hung around the feline’s frame was her weapon of choice, the yumi longbow, which was clung to by the tiny digits of her pale hands. As she nears the gathering she tenses slightly, never really feeling comfortable among crowds of people but still finding the courage to press on, driven by curiosity. Scarlet eyes appraise those here from beneath white lashes, not yet recognizing anybody. This only increased her unease. Frantically, Futsuka searches for something to distract her from her feelings of shyness, that tug in the pit of her stomach telling her to leave, and she follows the scent of Khitti’s goodie table instead. Savory meats would certainly make her forget her nerves, right? “This is free, right?” The feline seems unsure as she takes a morsel for herself and gives it a taste. It was good- much better than her bland travel raitions.

Kailani arrived! Without the eclectic entourage. There was the bardbarian, a griffon, and a little blue dragon. The dragon was on the druid's shoulder, at least for the time being. Right around the time that Kailani dismounts Grimclaw, the little dragon jumps from her shoulder and onto the griffon's back. Kailani was dressed as one might expect from someone who is seeking admittance into the Warrior's Guild. That is to say, the blue-haired woman is wearing armor...but let's not get too excited, this is how she pretty much dresses on the norm. The armor appears to be composed primarily of leathers and hides, and consists of a cuirass, gauntlets, and greaves -- just enough to offer moderate protection without slowing movement too much. While it might have been Kailani's idea to come on this particular date and time, she was not expecting...Well there are so many activities, foods, music, and worst of all...people. The blue-haired woman was slightly regretting this idea and expresses such to Orion by stepping a bit closer to the bardbarian and murmuring, "Didn't think it would be quite so busy." It helped that Kailani saw a number of faces that she knew, except she was currently experiencing sensory overload and it has not crossed her mind to make rounds and say hello. Look, she's working on it.

Sargaso arrives alone and fashionably late. He wears a short-sleeved gray tunic, dark leather pants, and a darker belt onto which he has clipped his canteen, a bit of rope, and a sailor’s knife (his typical travel accoutrements). Step 1 of enjoying fairgrounds: arm yourself. He drops by a food kiosk and arms himself with a beer and beef jerky. Step 2: meander aimlessly. Sarge loiters near the guild recruitment kiosk but, true to his nature, is hesitant to commit. He’s embarrassed to admit, even to himself, that he has enjoyed his adventures on behalf of the Devouts Guild. Life was simpler when chasing skirts was enough. Lately, it’s not felt like enough (not bad in any way, ladies, please, don’t get the wrong idea). That’s when Lionel speaks. He’d seen the guild leader a few times before, at Hudson’s wedding and the Cenrili elections that put Mayor Uma in power. But that’s about it. Kicking evil’s ass but not having to be a goody-two shoes about it really appealed to Sargaso, which is frankly embarrassing. Whatever, maybe he’s lame now? The sailor signs up for the sparring game, feeling a little like a chump, but mostly like maybe he’s a hero type now. Maybe. What is a hero anyway? You know what, maybe he’s over thinking it. He hunts for a second beer. Terra is probably not here to join the Warrior's Guild but after those speeches and the general mood of the place, she likely could be persuaded. Jacobo had mentioned this event and that it may be wise to attend, find allies in the guilds, should she ever need them. Right now, it's quite possible. While she can't decide where to start or who to begin with, she'd rely on the barhands to provide their unique insight AKA whiskey. After a glass of that, she may be more encouraged to make friends.

Mathollak strolled hand in hand with a young fat fingered, one-eyed boy. Who was definitely bigger than he was the last time Mathollak saw him. But he picked him up anyway, scooping Delisho under the armpits and lifting. Haha just kidding, the dense baby hippo wasn't going anywhere, Mathollak knelt beside him after one half-effort. In fact this whole trip was a half effort. Half effort to be a dad. Mathollak has been a bad father. But he was man enough to admit it! This Warrior's Guild recruitment party was going to be one half-hearted effort to rectify his recent behavior. His absenteeism. What better way was there? So he gave him the talk. "Young man," says he to his boy, "there's going to be a lot of people here. Young, old, rich, poor. Big and small. Nice and Mean. You remember what we talked about don't you?" Delisho certainly did, he demonstrated by nodding, and only turning his head a little bit toward the festivities. His eye wandered a lot, but. He was smart enough to know when to nod. "You're going to be nice and kind aren't you? No tantrums. No yelling. No screaming. And only hit them if they make fun of your eye." Delisho had one big eye. He was a cyclops. "DON'T eat them. DO NOT." There was one alleged incident of him trying to eat another kid. "I can't stress this enough. Tell me you understand." Delisho didn't have a solid grasp of talking yet. "Okay let's go bob for apples."

Rorin was manning a small lonely stall along with a half-giant named Frisstoch. Frisstoch, for what it's worth, was pretty friendly, and he took the job with pride. Rorin had a more tired, kind of forlorn look, but he was at least trying to smile. They had plenty of forms and sign up sheets and pamphlets and brochures, but no one seemed to be taking them. Rorin knew why of course - no matter how much "natural beauty" they told people frostmaw had, or how much the warriors loved to fight and drink and fight again- well, it had become somewhat notorious. It was more of a punishment than a promotion to be stationed amid the swirling ice storms with maybe a couple dozen people for months on end and battle drug crazed hobo giants and now apparently the undead. Rorin sighed at some point and went off to grab concessions when he found the sign up sheet for the round robin spar royale. "That ought to bring us some attention..."

Elga had spent the better part of the last few weeks traveling between one place or another - having signed up with the Necromancers Guild in Vailkrin not too long ago. Still, she had need of practice in other areas, and knew the Warriors Guild was the place for her. As such, the Venturilite spell blade returned home for this event with a single goal in mind. Elga's approach into Vigilanti Semper is marked by a confident stride, despite knowing no one she was about to meet. Her forward approach is heralded by the clanking of her armor - a royal blue colored brigandine sitting atop a black gambeson, while a remarkable short spear is clutched by her right hand, and a small shield strapped to her left forearm. Upon entering the area set aside for today, she makes an abrupt stop to gander at everything. Her eyes, and ever-swirling maelstrom of greys and blacks, scans those who have gathered and the booths. Her left-hand snakes up to a singular, thick braid of honey blonde hair and tosses it back over her shoulder. Her first target, despite the celebrations, is the booth where Biggs Wedge is located. Instead, she is interrupted by the speech of Lionel and after having listened, offers her congratulations to Rilla by smacking her spear against her shield. Once finished, she finally makes her way to Biggs. "I'd like to join the Guild." Her voice far too sing song for her appearance.

ROUND-ROBIN SPAR

The boy behind the booth smiles at Elga as she approaches, and points behind her to the arena that was about to open up. “Then I guess you should go show off, shouldn’t you?” He asks, leaning out of his booth to gather up a younger, fresher faced boy with freckles to whom he announced her as the first of the night. The boy then led her off into the ring, front and center to await an opponent. Riros never showed his face at events such as this, but a familiar name had been tossed around in connection with the guild recently and the avian couldn’t help his curiosity. He flew in, landing within the makeshift arena just in time to catch the ending of the announcement explaining how it was played. The flurry of feathers that accompanied quickly settled and then disappeared? Just like the wings from his back which, at a glance, were gone as well. Deceptively human, if not for his height, the straightness of his nose, the pointed ears. “Oh, we’re fighting now, are we?” He smirks, drawing his broadsword from its sheath at his side, a ruby glistening within the handle as the energy within begins to buzz and spark alight, almost audible as he sizes up the other woman in the ring with him. He watches for only a moment before nodding. “Ready?” And with that he’s off, trained footfalls propelling him in and out and around as he looks for his best opening. Focusing his energy, he holds his blade in both hands and the space is almost hotter for having him and his blade in it. With a cracking sound, the energy spills over and the blade erupts into flame and as he weaves in and out, around the tree and the woman alike, he sends off a series of fireballs, each the size of a tennis ball, each at a different height though none higher than head height for the admittedly extremely-tall man. Once his circle is completed, a single fiery ring around his friendly-opponent, he erupts into another flurry of feathers to watch from above and await the final round where he will in turn get attacked and be given the opportunity to practice what is, in his mind, the most important portion of any battle.

Elga moved upon being summoned, following the boy into this makeshift arena that has been created for those who wished to sign up. Her eyes alight with curiosity when she comes to a full stop, watching her opponent ready themselves. "Of course." Elga's voice is quick to respond in kind, while she assumes a stance for battle, feet shifting wide, her shield placed before her and spear tip gruesomely pointed towards her attacker. With nary a moment to spare, Elga bounds into action, refusing to stand idly by as she is bombarded by fireballs from her opponent. She shifts around the tree, ducking below the first ball that singes bits of blonde hair in passing - leaving behind a gods awful smell in its wake. The decorations strewn about are used to her advantage, leaping up and behind a few to save her hide; where they light ablaze. Though when she lands, she is met by another problem entirely. She has no time to respond as she would like and instead leaps through the ring of fire - its flames lick at her face and gambeson, scorching bits of flesh and her armor. Elga hits the ground with a roll and a grunt, snapping up to her feet with trails of smoke following in her wake. Violent eyes turn to Inks, the next combatant on the list and proceeds to her with a jog that increases to a full run, slithering through decorations in the chance to catch her off guard. Once reaching her, Elga appears at her flank with lethal intent. Her shield is slammed forth for Vampires midsection, to perhaps knock her off balance. Regardless of success or failure, her spear follows in quick succession to perhaps skewer Inks right shoulder - it's deadly tip is specifically designed to punch through armor, flesh and bone alike without discrimination.

Iintahquohae totally waited until Lionel replied before wandering off to join the guild. “You're right,” she replies. “I do enjoy chaos sometimes.” Blame Kasyr for this, she wants to add, but figures the blonde may already be thinking it. To Biggs, she produces a half smile at his joke despite it flying over her head and nods at his revelation. “Yeah, one of the ships is mine,” the seamstress replies, beaming. She leans in a bit to whisper, jabbing an index finger in Rilla's direction. “She's the real hero though. I was sort of there for personal reasons.” Turning in time at the sound of fireballs being hurled, she catches a glimpse of Elga. Clearly unaware that she is part of a list for combatants tonight she hadn't gotten that far into the orientation, it seems), Iintahquohae is caught off guard, as the woman's shield knocks into her, causing her to stagger back. Lacking armor, but not speed (bless you, vampirism), she figures she has two options – just duck to avoid the spearhead from puncturing her, and cross her fingers Biggs isn't skewered instead, or leap onto the spear, and snap it. She stands still, heels dug into the ground as the scimitar begins to fade from her hip, ebon scales encircling her neck slithering down below her shirt and pants to her legs. A pair of greaves of the same make materialize, each with a pair of three inch spikes that dig themselves into the ground beneath her to help anchor her in place to spring. Elga's spear goes for her shoulder, she leaps, one boot briefly pressing down on the spear's middle while her other foot kicks for Elga's jaw. Whether or not she actually meets her mark, she tucks and rolls to the ground behind the woman, then releases the bat on her hip. Noticing that the paladin Sargaso has been pulled into this game of...sparring tag? She isn't sure what to call it, the seamstress decides to go for him next. Bounding over attendees similarly to how she awkwardly flipped over Elga, using the shoulders of folks in the way as springboards to close the distance between herself and Sarge, she thinks twice about going the lethal route with her bat like she did in Xalious on that one night we probably shouldn't talk about. She drops the batInstead she lands directly in front of him and the others he appeared to be mid conversation with, and throws a left hook to his gut.

Elga is a battle maiden, forever light on her feet, ready for any response - pursuing the songs of old glory in her attempts of training. Though the Vampires kick is speedy and well-aimed, it does not meet the Venturilite this day. Instead, Elga's shield, designed to reflect blows rather than absorb them, is raised into the trajectory of Inks foot where it does what it has been created for. Her shield arm recoils in rebound, a sudden stinging pain bolting up her arm in response, but she is otherwise unharmed and taking a big breath of air. When Inks lands behind her, Elga walks out of the fight with a grin, to rejoin the festivities of this event. Soon she is perusing the wares, ignorant of the scorched bits of armor she wears, singed bits of hairs, and a few blisters. All could be mended or healed.

Sargaso is two beers deep and it’s taking every bit of mental faculty to accurately explain what the devouts guild does. In short, he is completely unprepared for Iintahquohae’s vampirically fast left hook. Sargaso is at full risk of taking a vampiric punch to his guts so squarely and badly that he’ll be coughing up blood into next week. But Selene is good! Rejoice! For Selene brings Mathollak’s obnoxious voice right to Sargaso’s ear at the exact right moment. The sailor’s entire body clenches with irritation, and he whips around to see if he heard that right. As he turns, Iintahquohae punches Sargaso’s ass. It hurts like hell, and he staggers forward between Futsuka and Kailani, stunned, confused and seeing stars. What. the. Hell. He had totally forgotten that he signed up for the sparring game. Who structures a game to attack people totally unprepared? This warriors guild is wild, my dudes, buck wild. He’s quickly sprinting forward, albeit with a slight limp as his glutes work through a painful charley horse. Okay, so, he’s supposed to attack Kailani next. That’s what they told him at sign-up. Okay, uh. Awkward. Well. He unlatches his rope from his belt and spits on it then recites a short prayer as he circles Kailani. He throws the rope overhead. From its short 3-foot end a watery net materializes and extends several yards towards Kailani to ensnare her in a watery fishing net meant to ensnare and subdue a single target. The reagent for that water spell was Sargaso’s spit. Just don’t think about it, Kailani, alright?

Iintahquohae , grateful that at least blood hasn't been shed this time around. She's hopes that Elga is okay, unaware that her attempt to kick the woman's jaw did fail until she picks her out of the crowd. Thank goodness. “I owe that woman a new spear probably,” she says to Biggs, extending her hand to shake his. The fact that her punch hit Sargaso's ass instead of his gut makes her force back a laugh at how hilarious this likely looks. “Nice rear, friend,” she calls to Sarge, making a note to try talking to him later. She isn't a fan of paladins, but she is a fan of Selene. Big fan. Tattoo and all. Wasn't there apple bobbing or something going on in all of this? She goes searching for that, serpentine greaves fading away in time with the reappearance of the scimitar at her hip and snake scales around her neck. ...She left the baseball bat behind on the ground too. Hopefully it's there later.

Kailani had put her name on the list, but they had not told her who would be attacking her. What is this? Sargaso has unfair insider information, except that information does not seem to be utilized. Both the sailor and the druid are quite partial to the same element. Didn't her blue hair give that away? The watery net that is cast out toward the half-elf is a total flop. As much as Sargaso can try and impose his will upon the element, it seems far more willing to bend to Kailani's wants. The net loses its shape and the path the water is taking completely changes course. Just to be safe though, just in case Sargaso has any more tricks up his sleeve with this, Kailani backpedals just to further dodge the effects of the net. Sorry, Sarge, you can't catch all the fish in the sea. Sometimes they just slip away, as in the current case. So what happens to the water? Well, Sargaso has done half the work for Kailani by summoning the water (not that she needed him to). She could just will it out of existence...but...Karasu is going to become the next intended target. She's really, sorry, Kara. Orion just has really awkward timing. If he could have maybe introduced like ten minutes ago? Twenty? This is going to be a most awkward introduction, for the spellblade that is complaining about fire spells is potentially about to be drenched in water. The water is a distraction. If Kailani's plan works out, Karasu is going to get a bath, the water will pool at the spellblades feet and then solidify into ice, hopefully rooting Kara's feet to the ground. Or at the very least creating some very slippery terrain for the spellblade. Which is about the time that Kailani charges forward, taking the ransuer that has been resting harmlessly at her back into her grasp. Kai's intention is actually to rush past Karasu, utilizing the length of her pole-arm to attack just as she passes the spell-blade. Kailani has no intention of being overly aggressive with this attack, it will not be the bladed end of her weapon that is aimed for the back of Kara's knee. It'll just be a little love tap from the butt end of her weapon. It'll probably barely even leave a mark! Hopefully Kara can forgive her, in most cases she would not just go attacking someone Orion has introduced as a friend. Plus the spellblade does seem like she is itching for fight? Brawl away, yo.

Sargaso doesn’t mind that his net didn’t catch Kailani. In fact, he knew she could. He’s a lover, not a fighter. Fighting is a necessary defense in many instances, but otherwise, the paladin prefers diplomacy (smooth talking) and de-escalation (small talking). Nonetheless, he walks over to the recruitment kiosk, wincing a little from the bruise on his butt, and asks Biggs some simple questions. “What’s it take to join the guild? Is there a training regiment? Does he have to live in the barracks? Is there a Cenril outpost?”

Karasu looks up at the recruiter to chastise them. "Hey, what's the big idea, you couldn't give me ten seconds to greet everyone?" Looking ahead, her eyes widen to see the wave of water headed their way. A flashback plays in her mind, one of a duel where the demifeline is submerged in crocodile-infested waters despite not knowing how to swim. She seizes up with an utterance along the lines of how she'd never swim again, and grabs onto the recruiter's waist. "Hope you're not afraid of heights." Touching at the hilt of her sword imbued with a branch of the Xalious Tree, she exclaims the word to activate an aeromancy spell. A gust of wind blows through, sweeping the demifeline and the poor recruiter up into the air as the water splashes and freezes along. Looking down, she sees the stark blue hair of the druid who draws her ransuer. The spellblade releases her charge so that they may be brought down gently by the passing gust of wind and onto the fabric of a nearby tent. Karasu lands back where Kailani originally stood and draws her whip-blade. Despite the lack of magic, the sword is still powerful enough to react to an incantation of "Hogo!" The blades detach and hover in front of Kailani to form a honeycomb shape of a shield that parries the sword. The makeshift shield suddenly breaks apart as Karasu, thoroughly aggravated by the impromptu battle, aims the hilt of her sword to utter an attack. "Ventus enim cicatricem tib--ee!" Having been so focused on the wording, she failed to note that she was still standing on a slick of ice. The spellblade falls on her rear, dropping her sword hilt. Despite letting go, the spell is still complete and aims for whoever the fallen hilt points to. In this case, that would be the extremely unfortunate Jessie Raspberry, who at this time is assisting to bring out another tray of h'ordeurves. The blades suddenly make a sharp quarter turn as another blast of wind from the skies carries the seven blades out. Even when the blades themselves are missed, the force of the wind is still strong enough to knock most of the decorations and props in its immediate vicinity flying. Unfortunately, that means that the snack table becomes collateral damage too. "The crab puffs!" Karasu shouts in distress.

Thankfully the Warriors guild had thought of this very thing, and as the decorations went flying they crashed against an invisible wall, falling to the inside of the ring as litter on the ground. The crab puffs are safe. Thank the gods.

Jessie Raspberry had been humming a spritely tune, prancing along her way with delicious appetizers in her grasp, when a mighty gust of wind was her only warning that -- in accordance with her failure to recognize spatially that they were knocked off-course she totally thought that seven swords were fast en route to do very bad things to a very innocent young scientist. "Quintessa!" It was the first and only thing she shouted, a name like a godly prayer to a goddess who did not come. She ran, mewling like a kitten, scooped up by the wind and spinning. "I," a spin, "hate," a spin, "this," a spin, and on the fourth spin she shook herself in a bid to awaken from a nightmare. The bad news was obvious: this was reality and she was suffering in it one gust at a time. The good news was that in all her fitful shakes, Jessie accidentally evicted herself from the vortex and landed on the ground with a thud. The swords still came. First, Jessie lifted a beautiful, ornate plate and threw it like a frisbee into the tip of one blade. Next, she tossed a porcelain vase. Her third attempt never came to fruition, because she reached for a giant hunk of ham that a very rude guest snatched up for themselves at the risk of Jessie's own life. That was when it dawned upon the girl that life was but a fleeting dream. "No!" That's not what she meant to think at all. In that lapse, she realized just how amateur she truly was. The blades had flown into the twilit blue, safely from Jessie's person. "I actually kind of need to study those," Raspberry declared, triumph evident upon her smirking lips. And so she ran, she ran so far away, her eyes sparkling with the type of determination that only a true scientist could muster, and in her running she bumped into the woman she was supposed to be going after anyway but forgot all about: Futsuka. The bump was more than a bump; it was a total clash, a mess of the flesh-of-ham she had managed to hack off with pleading fingers before it was so rudely taken away from her forever. The ham would stick to Futsuka's face should it successfully reach the target, smearing greasy dead pig across a feline visage and other fancy words wholly unnecessary in 2020. Jessie's body was slim and small but it would still crash harshly if it was not evaded in due time, which could cause injuries as widespread as a minor sprain to Futsuka's hip.

Kailani 's reaction is similar to Sargaso's, she is perfectly fine with the fact that her plan of attack did not play out exactly as intended. What was more important to her is that she did not cause any serious damage to Karasu, as the goal was none at all. She would not boast the same preference for non-violent action like Sargaso does. Her thinking fell in line with her fellow healer, Futsuka. The druid just had no keen interest in bringing harm to potential allies, not when it was also her job to fix them later. Once her part in the sparring games has played out, she's not quick to return to Orion's side. There are two reasons for this, she's well aware that at some point he'll be tagged into this sparring game. His turn way coming! Also, there was a certain booth that half those participating in the games seem keen on visiting. The one with Biggs Wedge? That's where Kailani goes to share the same bit of information that just about everyone else has been stated, "We would also like to join the Warrior's Guild." We being herself and Orion, the guy she is pointing to. Surely he'll confirm this detail after he's done flexing.

Karasu rubs her rear with one hand as she forces herself to her feet and retrieves the hilt of her sword with the other. "Return." She orders her sword blades. Sheathing her sword, she gives a deep sigh. Thank goodness the crab puffs were safe. Her devotion to delicious crab thankfully spares her of having to observe some deep sexual tension not seen since the tenth of [seagull caw]. Iintahquohae 's eyes light up. Any opportunity to make something was good to her – though this time it wouldn't be for cash, she guessed. She did kinda punch the guy, so. Free jacket for Sarge. “I could do that for you,” she replies to him. “Come by sometime and I'll see what I can do for you.” When Terra approaches, she flashes a grin. This socializing thing isn't too bad, she thinks. “Hey there,” she waves to the blonde. “You joining too?”

Futsuka finds herself momentarily distracted trying to intimidate the ‘Axe of Love’ but so far the spunky feline couldn’t make the man shrink away from her glare. Without her eyes on the little sparing game that was taking place just right behind her, she was in no position to see Jessie Raspberry bump into her. With the scientist’s firm hip check landing perfectly, Futsuka struggles to maintain balance by clinging to the woman who came in contact with her, her clawed fingers hooking into Jessie’s clothes. This would prove to be a mistake for the feline. As Futsuka swings around to cause the momentum to carry Jessie away from her, a hand comes down to smear cooked swine all over the woman’s face, and she cries out in protest as she releases Miss Raspberry, hopefully sending her tumbling away without much injury. Immediately Futsuka wipes the grease from her eyes, looking for a target to ‘tag’ next. Spotting Mathollak almost immediately, Futsuka flashes a fanged smirk before pulling a bola from her belt and aiming it right for the death knight. “Hey you!” she shouts to him right before she arcs her arm to fling it in his direction, the grappling ropes extending in an attempt to trip him up as the feline charges. Chasing after her opening attack, the swift woman bounds into the air and aims a kick with both feet for his chest, hoping the bola could trip him up long enough for the attack to land and send Mathollak careening directly into the barrel of water and apples he bobbed from only moments before. Mathollak spins around to hear who's calling him after winning an argument with such trampling force that the apple vendor literally fell over and died in shame. Her apples and her words were junk. He intends to receive his championship belt, but the person who gives it to him doesn't know how to tie one on, and it lands around his ankles, clamping them together. Mathollak appears puzzled for a moment, forgetting about the sparring session altogether until this moment. "Right!" And she lands her kick, right into his chest, and he flips feet over ass into the barrel of water. It tumbles over, flattening the dead apple vendor. Then it goes over again, landing upside down over him, completely concealing him. Then he needed to attack...who? Right, the dweeb-knight Rorin. He pokes a cork out of the barrel discreetly, and peaks an eye through the hole, scanning for prey like a bloodthirsty predator. The element of surprise was the deadliest element. Everyone knew that. He spotted Rorin manning a stall to the North, looking bored and like a dweeb. Which is what he is. As soon as he spots him, he kicks the other two barrels over, emptying them of water and kicking them toward Rorin's stall. The last barrel, he heaves over his head and charges Rorin with it as a weapon. Only a few yards away, he slams his barrel into the ground. It bounces up and continues bouncing all the way toward Rorin. Three barrels gunning for Rorin. Two rolling, one bouncing. Sure, Rorin could easily leap over the first two barrels, but how will he avoid the third? If he jumps, it will bounce into him painfully.

Rorin was just getting to the good part about how he had to explode his arm to save his lost love before it happened. All of a sudden he could feel a pull and a flash, his attention brought to the hackneyed attack by the lackey of the king which was whack. Using his half elven grace and wit, Rorin leapt onto one barrel- another- a third?! Rorin turned his jump into a spinning kick and smashed straight through! He was awfully wet and sticky now as the barely had contained Apple cider but that would hardly slow him down. He turned to his appointed victim, Orion, as Rorin landed in a big slippery mess. The pilgrim did a spin, a leap, and a roll, diving as he struck out with the edge of a divine shield mounted on his wrist, flinging it like a flail, the momentum of his spinning turning into a whirligig of doom headed straight for Orion’s legs!

Rorin cleaned off his hands and headed back for the stall. “That was fun,” he announces to Frisstoch, who has taken on the role of storyteller in his absence. “All right, what next? Kids good? Still looking to hand out flyers?” Frisstoch was just happy Rorin brought him some cakelog flavored shaved ice. It was his hometown favorite. “Did you tell them about the part where the Academy has to defend its front gates from the insect invasion? Ooh, we should reenact the Suariangate battle. You’ve got those stage puppets right? Triceratops?”

Mathollak finds the recruitment kiosk after drying off a bit, where he finds a man in need of a shoulder to cry on. Mathollak offers him a shot of whiskey from his everful whiskey pouch instead. It's like an everfull component pouch, but it has whiskey. "So. You're the guy who recruits people eh? Have a drink and put on a smile you're making people uncomfortable."

Orion's jade green eyes widen at the incoming Rorin, "Finally!!" The bardbarian charges at full speed towards the pilgrim because why not?! The best defense is a strong offense, right? In passing a food vendor, Orion grabs a freshly smoked turkey drumstick. The bearded one breaks into his own slide while ripping at the food with his teeth. So good. Compliments to the chef! He wasn't fully equipped to take a direct hit from anyone tonight. Avoiding the attack would be his best bet but with a wild card thrown in to throw Rorin off his game. As the rest of the meat is quickly torn off the bone and spit to the side, Orion takes a firm grip on the turkey drum bone. Just before impact with the pilgrim, Orion catches grip on the ground with his boots, sending himself flying up and over the incoming man. At the peak of his leap of faith, Orion aims the turkey bone at the top of Rorin's head and chucks it in hopes of setting in a sense of confusion to throw off his path. Just after the bardbarian lands on his feet and into an immediate sprint, he spots a freshly grounded Riros. The bardbarian starts to pick up speed towards the avian while pounding a fist against his chest, "For Daedria!..And Miss Kailani!" His voice is loud and booming yet again. Orion then leaps into the air. Grimclaw stops whatever the hell he was up to and takes to the sky with his baby dragon sibling holding on for dear life. The griffon does a quick loop in the air and positions himself just below Orion. Orion lands on the back of his compadre but only long enough to springboard off of the griffon. Orion grips his axe tightly as he free falls towards Riros with a bright smile on his face, his beard flowing beautifully against the wind. So majestic. The bardbarian falls into a quick roll once he hits the ground and comes into a kneeling position while swinging his axe at Riros' chest, axe heads flat against the avian though. He's not trying to commit murder just yet. While mid swing, Orion whispers a quiet, "I'm sorry," to Riros. Orion pulls his swing to just a light tap. However, the soft impact would surely send a powerful shock wave into the avian's body to hopefully send him flying backwards. Orion is quick to stand afterwards and searches for Kailani, "Are we in yet?!"

Rorin cleaned off his hands and headed back for the stall. “That was fun,” he announces to Frisstoch, who has taken on the role of storyteller in his absence. “All right, what next? Kids good? Still looking to hand out flyers?” Frisstoch was just happy Rorin brought him some cakelog flavored shaved ice. It was his hometown favorite. “Did you tell them about the part where the Academy has to defend its front gates from the insect invasion? Ooh, we should reenact the Suariangate battle. You’ve got those stage puppets right? Triceratops?”

Riros was used to this nonsense, a seasoned fighter who had seen the kind of stuff Rilla got up to in the past, though he wasn’t sure if he’d truly seen her there as of yet. He makes his way into the ring once prompted, past the forcefield where he stood to await whatever it was that was thrown at him. He watched, light on his feet as he shifted side to side, broadsword drawn from it’s sheath and held at his left hand side. His eyes widen as he watches the man fall through space. Did he not remember how he’d gotten here? “Don’t be.” Riros said, springing back from the larger man and inserting the blade of his longsword between the two of them. It erupted in flame, heatless as it was, and using the momentum of Orion’s push in combination with the force of the flames that he sent flying towards the earth to push him back and up and into yet another flurry of feathers that never quite made it to the ground. He circles the ring once more, blade still in hand but the incessant buzzing of energy that it emitted silenced once more before he returned to ground, pushing dark hair from his eyes. He walked from out of the ring, the final defense, and despite his height was quick to blend right back into the crowd to disappear. Was there ever an avian here? We may never know.

IN CLOSING

Rilla stood abruptly, remembering a part of her job that she was neglecting. Why was this her job? Who knows, she has a way of getting into things without even trying. Like clans, guilds, and most often, fights. Having already done one of those things today, she instead disappeared into Vigilanti Semper and moments later returned with the results of a drawing that had been conducted inside by people with better morals than Rilla. Someone should hold the rogue who came out of nowhere accountable, this was a good way. The slight woman reappeared with a weapon in hand, a spear which was far too large to be hidden behind her back or any other thing that Rilla would normally use to build anticipation. She climbed up onto a barrel of cider, balanced on the rims though it was still sealed. She cleared her throat, surprised just to be tall for a change - climbing things wasn’t usually done around others. “Excuse me, I was supposed to give this away and thank you all for joining.” The young vampire called out, squaring her shoulders and pasting a smile on her face. “I’m terrible at speeches though, so let’s just give it away. Stitch, come and get it.” She peeked over the heads, looking for the other vampire to give her the sunstone spear.

Orion pats Karasu on the head, "Little Warrior. Hi." Oops. Turkey meat residue in his hand..now in her hair. He picks a few pieces out though.

Futsuka is just finishing off the crab puffs. Don't mind her.

Lionel was a bit weirded-out by Kailani's reply but took it in stride. After all, no one here was weirder than him. "That's the spirit," he said to Mathollak. "I hereby request your assistance. You're Mathollak, right? I've seen you around before. And as for you two, it'd be great to have you along for the ride." He meant Orion and Kailani, of course. "Free room and board. Customized training. Um, we have a little music group going on here…?" Looking past them and over to Karasu now, Lionel tilted his head sideways a bit. Yeah, he's definitely seen her before, too. "I don't know what they wrote on that brochure but I'm sure it covers the basics better than I can. End of the day, though, all that matters is that you vow to be a decent person. Or, at least, happy to beat up people who aren't." He didn't mind Futsuka, because crab puffs. Jessie, however, ran up to the feline apologetically, having finally returned from her twirls. "I'm so sorry," she breathed.

Rorin gave it another go. “Consider the Northern Academy! We teach all kinds of weapons and have a magical shifting training field to simulate any kind of environment! Sometimes we use it to simulate hot springs or beaches on weekends! Legendary items crafted by our own smiths, and you could learn to be one too!” Rorin offered ice fishing classes, sweat lodge steam baths, and battle training snowball fights with life sized forts.

Maybe Kara and Kai would be able to hash out if they were cool or not soon. Spoilers: they mostly were. I mean, there might be some level of upset if Kailani realized who was behind that tree attack...but she doesn't...So they're definitely cool. She can relate to Kara's shyness. In all honesty, the druid is about worn out from this whole 'being social endeavor'. Orion's crack about the turkey is met with a smirk, "Maybe on the way out. I think what I would really like is some quiet soon." A request that might be easy to accomplish sooner rather than later, as Lionel announces that...they're in! Woohoo! "Sounds great," she says to Lionel."

Elga was right – Spears really are easy to come by, it seems. Iintahquohae hops up to her feet when Rilla calls for her, and moves to retrieve the spear she...won? Did she win this? Holding the sunstone spear in her hands, a distant hiss is heard mingling with her thoughts. Of course she won. She did great, snapping one spear and punching a man's buttocks. This is a fitting reward. The seamstress does a little twirl of the spear in her hands after taking a step back from Rilla. “Thanks. I guess I have two weapons to figure out how to use.” A beat, and she glances at the other vampire again. “Does this one talk or anything?”

Karasu makes a disgruntled noise as the debris comes off in her curls. "Hey...!" She complains, rubbing the greasy food out. Her eyes flicker to Lionel, her expression immediately becoming starstruck again. "So cool...!" Shaking her head slightly, she straightens up. "Yes, of course. I'm hoping to be at least mostly a decent person." She leaves out 'after I get this creature out of the mark on the back of my neck and absolutely slaughter whoever is holding my senpai hostage.'

Orion said to Lionel, "All of that. Yes, sir! However, we will rarely use our rooms. We prefer to be in a more quiet environment. But we will only just be south of here in case we hear any call to arms!"

Rilla hands the spear over to Iintahquohae, eager just to be back out of the spotlight. "What -" She splutters at the question, hopping down off of the barrel she'd used to get tall enough to see over everyone else. "No it doesn't talk," she answers under her breath, taking Inks by the hand to lead her back through the crowd. "What's the other weapon? I'm terrible with spears, they're about as long as I am."

The greatest irony here is that, in a bizarro world where Karasu actually completed that sentence, Lionel would have understood. "Well then! You'll get a notice one way or the other as soon as we've scheduled the ceremony to welcome new recruits! But in the meantime, welcome aboard nevertheless!" He handed out pins -- badges, really -- that mostly matched the one he had attached to the left chest area of his shirt. They were shiny, and everyone gathered received one. Even Biggs Wedge, in fact. To Orion, the Catalian smirked. "Perfect! At ease!" That was rarely something Lionel needed to request from those under his command, but then, Orion didn't know him yet. The bardbarian would see soon enough just how Lionel his leader truly was.

Elga finishes her food and cleans her hands just before the winner is announced. As Stitch is called out, Elga claps for Iintahquohae, with a grin on her features. Well done.

Iintahquohae forgot to mention the discovery after their night drinking. Holding the spear in one hand while the other is held by Rilla, she tips her chin down to her right hip, at the black scabbard at her hip and the scimitar in it. “I found it when I woke up the other night after we hung out” she replies, in a half whisper. “It uh...It made those uh -” she pauses, letting go of Rilla's hand to make a vague gesture at her legs while grasping for the word. “Greaves. Those. It keeps telling me what it can do.” She taps the butt of the spear into the ground a few times, as if trying to rattle out a voice from it. “Probably for the best that this one can't talk.”

Kailani nods in agreement with Orion's statement about the rooms. She's pretty sure she's got a room down in the Sanctum of the Divine that she almost never uses. The badges are passed out, it is announced there would be a ceremony, which prompts a cross-eyed expression from Kailani...because that meant she'd have to be social again, aye? The thought is enough to cause her to take Orion's hand, she's really wanting to sneak out but asks in a more round-about way, "Anything else you want to visit before we head out...?"

Karasu is too busy admiring her shiny new pin to notice Kailani and Orion just feet away apparently making Delisha a very happy goddess.

Orion playfully gasped at the holding of hands. We need a censor here! Orion is picking up what Kai is putting down though, "I think that's enough excitement for now, yeah?" Orion says his goodbyes and waves with his free hand. Grim and baby blue are just as eager to head back home. Tonight was a lot for the four of them.

Rilla cannot tug Iintahquohae away fast enough before she says - what else could one say when talking about weapons that speak to you? “It might be smart not to tell everyone your weapons are talking to you.” She suggested under her breath as she turned to watch Stitch with a cautious gaze, hands resting on her hips. “Let’s leave together and you can tell me all about it. For now, this one is … I don’t really know? The jewel in the handle is sunstone, and I’m sure someone who knows anything about mystic anything can tell you about it. Not me though.”

Rorin surrendered when Frisstoch gently placed a hand on Rorins shoulder. “Yeah, you’re right. At least we tried, let’s pack it in and head back to the eyrie for transport. We can have some nice hot cocoa when we get back. I miss the cool breeze already. Goodbye, Chartsend. Come on kids.” The pilgrim, the half giant, and three small griffons began to pack up their stall.

Karasu runs over to Futsuka to show off her pin, excited like a kid getting a gift from Aramoth on Yuletide. "Tia Futsuka, look! I can be in the same guild as my girlfriend here too!"

Kailani is just going to follow Orion's lead on this one, she'll wave goodbye to the people that she knows with her free hand. ESPECIALLY TERRA, who she royally failed at saying hello to. Rilla should not Kailani waves to her on the way out as well.

Iintahquohae is very much aware at how everything she's currently saying sounds absolutely insane, but is just...okay with it? It's her life now. It's fine. Totally not weird. (It's weird, Inks. Stop) Rilla is regarded cautiously when she suggests that they leave. “We aren't drinking again, are we? I can't do that again and wake up with more....weird stuff” she says. Hoping they don't, she links her free arm with Rilla's and starts walking, but lets the other vampire lead the way. “I'll ask around about sun stone.”

That dang ole Grim steals a turkey leg for later just as OriKai saddle up and they take to the sky to head back to their quiet lake! Toodaloo!

Mathollak is too busy to look for his son, but it's okay because Delisho finds Mathollak. "Oh there he is! My best boy, how are you? Did you get enough to eat?" Delisho did apparently, and Mathollak is happy that the only person who remembers there was a halfling watching over him is dead from a heart attack. "This little man would also like to join the Warrior's Guild. He could stand to learn some discipline!" He kneels down to Delisho and pats his full belly. "Isn't that right chubbykins? Yes you could! Yes you could! Ah chip off the old block." Mathollak pulls a chain of thick steel links and hooks it securely to a loop on Delisho's back. "Where do we report?"

Futsuka swallows hard, almost choking on her puffs as Karasu shows off her pin. “G-girlfriend??” Futsuka was now sure how she felt about this news. Luckily, Jessie was still waiting patiently for the feline to notice her and her scarlet eyes flicker over to her. “Oh, do not worry about it. This is normal for human parties, no?” Futsuka shrugs. She didn’t understand the strange sparring custom but she had to admit it was kind of fun. “Am I being recruited into this guild too?” Her gaze returns to Karasu with a serious edge. “I might need to keep an eye on this one.”

Lionel was half-inclined to formally accept Delisho into the guild before his conscience returned and he realized what he was thinking. "We'll make him our formal honorary member," he said with a wink. "We've got rooms and board ready for you starting as soon as tonight!" Mathollak was gearing up already; very nice. "But you can crash anyplace else if you'd prefer. We'll be hosting a formal induction ceremony soon and I'll send you the deets ASAP." Deets. Yep.

Jessie Raspberry glanced at Biggs Wedge for confirmation on whether or not this was how human parties went; Biggs Wedge wasn't sure either. Shame, seeing as they were both humans. Alas, they were *these* humans. "Oh!" Jessie gasped with glee. "I'm sure we'd love to have you." Futsuka, frankly, was the most attractive woman Jessie Raspberry had seen this side of Quintessa Dragana. Funny, that. "Lionel, can we keep her?" Lionel, mid-mead, coughed and stared. "What? She's not a pet, Jessie. If she wants in, we're happy to have her, but please word things a bit more normally." He shook his head, the ultimate pot calling the kettle black.