Oatmeal and Politics

Oatmeal and Politics

Setting

Serenity Crisis Center - Hell's Kitchen <Public TR>

Hardly a palatial affair, Serenity Crisis Center is modest not only in means, but in size, as well. Upon entering the facility one finds themselves standing in a modest waiting area, plastic benches and chairs lined up neatly along the walls. To the left of the door, stationed opposite the plastic benches and chairs, a wooden desk that has seen better days boasts numerous pamphlets and client intake forms. Above the desk, a black and white TV that has seen better days has been bolted to the ceiling. Beyond the desk, taking up the majority of left wall, privacy screens have been arranged to provide clients a measure of privacy during interviews. To the right of the door, blocks and wooden toys take up most of the floor, the area obviously set aside for the use of children.
Opposite the entrance an archway opens onto the facility's main room, long tables and chairs arranged both for the comfort of the clients and to provide a serving space for when meals are available. Three hallways branch off the mainroom leading North, West and East respectively. To the west, closed doors lead to the Center's various offices and a modest kitchen, a staircase at the end of the hall leading up to a private apartment.To the east, private rooms are provided for therapy sessions and medical services. To the north, the hallway opens into a barracks-style shelter, the long rectangular room boasting a number of doors into rooms reserved for family use.

Cast

Scene

Grady follows Wolfgang in on a lumbering step. A huge axe is in his left hand, the shaft way out behind him and the head way out in front. Despite the fact that Wolfgang is much taller than the Ogre, the girth of the monster still manages to make him come off as somehow larger. His one good, green eye darts about constantly taking everything in rather than there being much head movement.

Yes, it's early for a Sunday morning, unless, of course, one is a church goer. Red is not a church goer. Instead, she is in the mainroom of the center, an apron tied about her waist (and few clumps of oatmeal clinging to her hair— she doesn't know, don't tell her) as she goes about the business of cleaning up after the morning meal. A few of the temporary residents are also present, although for the most part they seem to be either making thier way out or, in a few rare cases, assisting in the clean up. For the most part, the mood seems fairly light, the overall emotional tenor of center being one of familiar activity in progress. Of course, the sounds of fussing children can be heard from the back area of the center, the voices of stressed out mothers attempting to remain calm subtlely interlaced. Welcome to Serenity!

The ogre's led in by the chimaera-coated Wolfgang at a casual ambling, hands tucking into the pockets of that selfsame coat (if one can call toothless beast-mouths pockets) and his head turning slightly in a habitual sweep of the room to check for trouble. After that check, he walks himself along over towards the woman in the apron with a low growl under his breath, "Red." Closer, he lifts a hand to try and clean out her hair of oatmeal bits, rumbling in irritated tones, "Hold still. Y'r embarassing me."

"Oh no, no! I'm quite certain this place has nice food." Peony is saying as she leads in a bent over gray haired man, and judging by his torn and dirty clothing he is probably homeless, and not a Lost given the way he looks completely normal. The flower's eyes get wider as he asks her something under his breath. A shake of her head is given.

Apple enters hesitantly not long after the guys come through, looking as nervous as usual. She spots a few familiar faces and raises an arm halfway, about to make a friendly salute before thinking better of it and shoving her hands in her pockets as she looks around. Seeing that Red looks short-handed in cleanup, she carefully begins to help without a word. She looks rather disgusted, though, and gingerly handles the dishes and rags that she's required to touch.

Grady continues to follow behind Wolfgang and comes to a stop only when his guide does. His axe is placed on the ground, or at least the head of it is and he grips the haft with both hands leaning forward on it like a wizard with a Staff. "Well now… and well met… the infamous Red… who keeps vagrants fer pets." He inclines his head toward the woman which is sort of comical given he has very little in the way of a neck. This close it also further emphasizes the fact that he is only an inch or two taller than she is but easily that wide. "I thank ye for the hospitality… and I'm looking fer a palaver." He glances around and catches sight of other Changleings among the people and seems curious before looking back at her. "Seems others do too."
Grady speaks in that odd New York-Irish native only to these shores and it tends to emphasize his sing-song way of speaking, that mostly rhymes.

Rather then be taken aback by the rather intimidating Wolfgang picking oatmeal out of her hair, the smile Red turns on him is warm and easy, dark eyes crinkling at the corners as she exhales a wryly amused laugh. "We had a momentary food fight outbreak from the children," she provides. It is as she stands on her toes to attempt to see around him, that she flashes the self-same smile at Grady, and then just as easily toward Peony and finally Apple. "Welcome, all of you," of course, her greeting makes the picking of oatmeal out of her hair more difficult, but that doesn't stop her from attempting to bustle around Wolfgang's considerable bulk. "We still have more then food, so please, help yourselves." The offer, of course, is coupled with a bit of muttering from the people cleaning up. Despite that, they do leave out plates and bowls for the late comers. It is in response to Apple's disjointed greeting, however, that Red's smile broadens and she extends a hand toward the bewinged girl. "I'm so very glad you found your back to us, Apple."
Grady's greeting, however, serves to draw Red's attention and a light laugh spills from her lips as she affords him an easy smile. "Hardly pets, I assure you, but aye, I am Red. Although, I am not so certain I lay claim to any form of infamy, sir." Inclining her head, she affords a graceful, albeit truncated curtsy— which, no doubt makes the picking of oatmeal still more difficult. "Well met, please, make yourself at home." To which she adds, "Wolfie, fetch our guests coffee?" Heh. Wolfie. Fetch.
(To: Red and Wolfgang) Peony pages: If you two don't mind, I'd like to have Peoy been a "repeat" visitor on occasion. ;) To pick up food for herself and other homeless.
You paged Peony and Wolfgang with 'Certainly, feel free.'.

The response to that warm smile and laugh of amusement is a sour wrinkling of Wolfgang's brow and a throaty grunt of apparent annoyance as he tries to remove the sticky bits of oatmeal— and then she's moving away, and he gives up, bringing his hand upwards to lick bits of it from his claws as he turns to watch her bustle 'round him and head to meet the guests.
Then he's told to fetch coffee, and he turns a rather flat gaze on her. "I am not," he growls under his breath, though he's turning to stomp over towards the counter, "Your chatelaine."

Grady watches the exchange with interest but sits down at one of the benches as he does so, apparently intent on taking Red up on the offer of the meal. The axe lays across his lap with the haft and the blade each sticking out several feet either way making it impossible for anyone to sit right next to him. "Tis actually good fortune… that bring so many of us here… as what I wish to say… should be passed on to many ears."

Apple pauses in her own cleanup to give red a fleeting, but sincere smile before moving to help one of the workers. As usual, she seems perfectly happy to stay out of the spotlight, and she makes sure she is doing something to prevent her from having to take that position. She eyes Peony, the only Lost in the room she hasn't met, sidelong as she passes by, but doesn't speak directly to the stranger dispite her obvious curiousity. Wolf's response to Red does catch her attention, and she focuses on the two with a rather puzzled look for a moment before returning to her task.

Peony's violet eyes widen toward as they land onto Grady, and then of course onto Wolfgang, a small tremble of her slight form. But there's Red! Who she hurries the man gray haired man toward a smile for the other woman, "Red, please.. He doesn't have to get any coffee for me. But this man, I found him sleeping near the station.. I don't think he's eaten in a while."

She glances toward the gray haired man she's leading, who wobbles a little and mutters under his breath, and then looks onto Red. "You got any Jack girlie?"

"No alcohol!" Peony tells him, though it doesn't really hold much weight.

"Of course you aren't O' fiercest of wolves," Red's teasing words are coupled with the crinkling of her eyes and the barest hint of laughter of in her tones. Even so, there is a hint of caution in her merriment, one should tread lightly when toying with predators after all. Of course, she's busying herself scooping up bowls of oatmeal for all the new arrivals, a bowl and spoon promptly extended to each in turn. "Fellowship," she offers with a smile to Grady. "Is always a welcome thing. Those that occur by happenstance, always a truly welcome occurance." Flashing a playful wink. "You know my name, sir, tis only seemly that I have your own in return."
At the query concerning Jack, Red smiles politely and gives a faint shake of her head, offerng Peony a bowl of oatmeal for herself and the older gent. "I am afriad Jack is off to work this morning, but you'll find the oatmeal tastey enough." Pausing a beat, she tilts her chin toward Apple and then Peony. "Apple, Peony, make introductions, if you would. You would both benefit from knowing one another." And, of course, her attention turns promptly back to Grady.

At the teasing words, Wolfgang exhales a fierce snort of breath. "Oh, shut up, bitch," he growls lowly as he stalks away through the room, pushing open the swinging doors of the kitchen to - no doubt - fetch the coffee despite his objections. He'll be back in a minute.

Grady grunts and watches Wolfgang move off with what must pass for amusement before locking his one good eye back on Red's. "I be Gordygone Spleenripper, monster of olde… a bedevilment to the Gentry for coming centuries untold." He pauses, "Humble child of Autumn and Underlord of New York."
Apple moves instinctively closer to one of the big men as Red calls attention to her, perhaps oddly her choice of "protective" figures is Grady, rather than Wolfgang. She stammers softly, "Oh, me? Oh…" She peers around the man at Peony and says, "Well, as she said, I'm Apple."

Peony's violet eyes are wide and staring at Grady when he introduces himself, only to be shaken from her staring by Apple's voice. She jumps a little and says, "Oh! H-hi. I'm Peony Galen." She lifts a hand and gives a shy little finger wave.

The gent she lead in gives a grunting sound, doesn't introduce himself and shuffles off to find a place to sit and eat his oatmeal. Not seeming interested at all in their conversations.

She chews on her lower lip and glances once more to Grady and then back to Red. She asks softly of the hostess, "Sh-should he introduce himself like that here?" Timid, isn't she?

Wolfgang's response stirs a flicker of amusement to darting through Red's eyes, her lips twitching at the corners in response to what she knows is not an insult. It is upon Grady, however, that her attention, for the most part remains. "Aurora Rotkappchen, better known to most as Red." Forgoing any further formality, she affords a reassuring smile to Peony. "Why just last week we had the King of Brooklyn grace our halls, sweet Peony. Tis is no less grand to have the Underlord of New York make his presence known, as well." Tossing the girl a merry wink, she sweeps her gaze back to Grady and affords a curtsy of the likes seen the grandest of halls. "Well met and welcome, Gordygone Spleenripper."

Grady chortles at Peony's comment and looks around. "Even if someone heard me lil'darlin lass… what would they think… beyond me being mad or full of sass?" He shrugs and looks back at Red. "I could get up and dance on the table and call meself the faerie king… and none of them would think me doing more than a lunatic sing." He grunts to Red. "Thank ye kindly. Tis a honor to be made welcome." (Repose)

A steel-toed boot thumps itself against the swinging doors to cast them open, and Wolfgang emerges from the kitchen's depths with a still-steaming pot of coffee in one hand and a plastic-bagged bundle of styrofoam cups in the other. On a nearby table he thumps both down, allowing with a grunt, "Coffee."

Apple watches the exchange between Grady and Red quietly, though she gives Peony a polite nod and a flick of a smile. instead of grabbing some oatmeal, she chews on her finger, drawing a little blood in a few places from the ragged cuticles.
Peony blinks a few times toward Red, and mouths 'King of Brooklyn'. She glances toward Grady, only to jump a little more when Wolfgang thumps down the coffee and cups. She nods a little and then scurries to find a place to sit, preferably by herself with her oatmeal.

A twirl of crimson skirts and Red is off to the table, a bowl of oatmeal passed to Wolfgang before she goes about the business of pouring coffee for herself, the wolf, and her guests. One by one the cups are passed about, each offered with a gracious smile and polite inclination of her head. And while it seems a simple thing, the doing of the otherwise mundane task is accomplished in a very precise order. First a cup is offered to Gordygone, the second to Peony, the third to Apple. It is with the remaining two firmly in hand, that Red sweeps over and extends a cup up to Wolfgang before raising her own in a polite toast "To happenstance and fellowship and friends well met." It is at that point that she brings her cup to her lips and takes a sip.
Grady returns the toast. "Well met indeed… and too the wisdom… such a fellowship will seed." He takes a drink. "Tis a pity we dinna have a Summer… tis only wrath we lack."

Apple raises her cup slightly and takes a sip before sitting down. She twitches nervously and sits on the edge of her seat, as if she's ready to bolt at any moment. She murmurs into her oatmeal, in response to Grady, "There are many of them in the city. I am sure at least one will find themselves here eventually."

"I heard rumor they were off on the hunt," Wolfgang observes in a low rumble of breath as he reaches out to accept the cup with a slight dip of his chin, bringing it up to take a swallow thereof; swathing his features briefly in coffee's steam as the hot java spills back over his tongue and down his throat. That said, he turns his head to keep an eye on the scarcely-populated shelter (at this hour, at least) to watch for any who might be taking undue attention.

Fortunately, while there are few guests still lingering in the 'barracks', most have headed out to go about thier daily business. Perhaps more fortunately still, the regulars are accustomed to the fact that Red is a seemingly strange, but harmless woman. It is the wake of a sip of coffee that Red settles comfortably at Wolfgang's side, a quiet smile touching her lips. "When the time is right for them to make an appearance," she affords. "I've no doubt they will do so. In the meantime, we have a fair enough company and I admit to being curious as to what you wished to discuss with me Gordygone."

Peony shifts in her seat, bringing her legs up underneath herself. The oatmeal is carefully eaten, it's a slow calm sort of thing. She blinks at Red's words toward Grady, who she then turns to peer at a bit.

Grady nurses the cup of coffee and doesn't comment on the idea of a Summer hunt, although it clearly doesn't suprprise him. "Well… the sooner the better. If'n one of ye comes across one before me… please spread what passes here with glee." He pauses. "I want to talk about the past and the days to come. In this way we can avoid the pitfalls already done." He smiles wide and tusky, snaking out a long, black tongue to clear a tusk. "After meeting Wolfgang here… I gave some thought to some of his concerns and fears. I would avoid the folly of the Scarecrow past… take us to a new kindom that will last. I have an idea that I would like all Courts to consider."
Apple listens quietly, seeming to find some deep thought lost in her oatmeal, for all the concentration she's giving it.

A brief flaring of Wolfgang's nostrils answer the words spoken, rumbling deep in his throat, "'Fears' is a strong word, Underlord," he observes tersely, clawed fingers circling the cup's upper edge as he rests it on the table before him, one brow crooking up towards the draping edge of the goat's upper jawbone and lip where broken teeth rest against his forehead.

Fears? There are some words that Red simply cannot place together— Wolfgang and fears being a more then splendid example of the same. To which, the red haired woman slants a glance up to her companion, a hint of a smile whispering over the corners of her lips. She returns her attention, however, to Gordygone, his words stirring a hint of interest to sparking in her dark eyed gaze. It is in practically cautious tones, however, that she responds. "I make no claims toward speaking for my court, Gordygone Spleenripper. Although I've no doubt that organization of a sort is sure to happen. Such being the case, it would be my pleasure to hear what ideas you've brought to the table and, of course, to pass them on as might be deemed appropriate."

Grady glances briefly at Wolfgang a grunts. "Strong perhaps… but fair enough. I fear it meself… for the kingdom before was in a rut." He takes another slurp of coffee. A mouth with tusks isn't really designed for sipping. "Me idea… simple though it tis… is for each Court to mind its own business." He smiles ear to ear. "To a point. Each of us should choose our King… and internal affairs to others not bring." He pauses. "But for when problems come to pass… disputes between Changelings of Courts different and vast… there we need a High King… and that will be the one whose season time did bring." He sets the cup down. "What I am suggesting is a High King brought on by the time of the year… with the other King serving as a privy council dear. The High King in matters of discord has two votes… with the each other Privy King only one in rote. This means a total of votes five… and clearly no ties." He brings one hand up to scratch at his belly where it protrudes. "The current High King presides for ceremony as ritual demands… and all are kept happy and can make fair plans."

At the words spoken, Wolfgang listens in silence for long moments, thumb's claw tapping against the styrofoam for a moment before he exhales a rumble deep in his throat. "…so you would not turn over the reins of power each season at its solstice, then, Underlord?"

Apple considers this and says to her oatmeal, in a thoughtful tone, "It sounds logical enough, but in practice it might not work out as expected. Kings have a way of…you know, inventing the guillotine when they get comfy. And then what does a few other votes count?"

Grady looks over at Wolfgang. "Ye dinna understand… the High King… tis the one the season demands. So power does turn over… but power within reason… to prevent another Scarecrow rover."

Grady looks at Apple. "Exactly. If'n our High King is limited by the time of his season and merely having one more vote on the Council… there will be nor more dictorships coming."

Red is silent for a time in the wake of Gordygone's proposal, a downward tilt of her chin serving to bring crimson curls in to partially conceal her features from view. It is behind this 'makeshift' veil that she considers her words carefully. And, only once she has gathered her thoughts on the matter, does she raise her head and glance about at those present. "Your suggestion has a measure of merit," she admits in quiet tones. "There is certainly no harm to be found in all having a voice in what might occur. As I have, I hope, made clear, fellowship I hold in high regard." Pausing a beat, she sets her coffee cup down, lightly smoothing her fingers over her skirts. "I can say this, Gordygone Spleenripper, I think your suggestion sound and fair. It is a proposal I would not shy away from supporting, however, I cannot lay claim to speaking for the Winter Court, such a matter has yet to be decided upon. Although, admittedly, time is of essence." Again, from her expression, that is a thing over which she has little control.

Once the proposal is elaborated upon thusly, Wolfgang brings his hand up to scratch along his stubble-darkened throat, gaze hooding in silent consideration of it. He remains wordless for the moment, however, as the red-haired proprietor of the center speaks, merely watchful and mindful of the conversation. The last of the coffee in his cup is drained, then, his long, pink-red tongue sliding over the sharp teeth in his mouth as he sets the vessel over to one side.

Apple shrugs at Grady's response, looking a bit skeptical, "A title can be much more powerful than a vote. And fear can trump the checks and balances, which you should well know, Mr. Spleenripper." Her voice shakes and is very soft, and she's so pale she looks like she might pass out. She does mamage to scoot a few inches further away from Grady, though, just in case. Her hand creeps to her face, as she begins to chew nervously on her nails once again.

Grady nods and seems content just to be heard. "I dinna claim to spean for Leaden Mirror meself… this tis only an idea I want off the shelf." He looks at Wolfgang again. "To save time… let such ideas ring like chimes. Time is of the essence now. Each Court should organize as fast as it allows." He looks over at Apple. "Titles mean nuthing without the force to back them up. Four Kings prevent too much power and hence a kingdom corrupt. Besides Apple of me eye…" he doesn't seem offended by the questioning of his idea. "Each Court its own internal affairs and struture will decide. Tis only my suggestion… and if not taken… I will have no objects." He cocks his head studying all.

Apple gives Grady a flicker of a smile, then hops up, suddenly looking nervous again, "Ihave to go find a pigeon now. I'll tell them about your idea, sir." And out she goes, almost, but not quite, running.

Peony blinks a little toward Apple's words to Grady, and then continues to pick at her oatmeal, chewing it slowly with her needle sharp teeth. She stirs the oatmeal a bit more, but doesn't say anything.

Grady sits at one of the many tables. His oversized axe rests on his lap so the haft shoots out on the left and the blade on the right, preventing anyone from sitting too close. A cup of coffee rests on the table in front of him and he appears to be chatting with the other Changelings clustered around. (Positional pose for Lise)

Noting Apple's uneasiness, Red extends a hand toward her, a welcoming smile inviting the girl into a position closer to herself and Wolfgang. Of course, Apple is off on business of her own, and the hand returns to smoothing Red's skirts. It is toward Gordygone, however, that she speaks. "Understood, Gordygone Spleenripper. And toward that end I will do what is within my power to see things progess in a timely fashion." It is, after all, all that she can do toward that end.

"'ware the rooftops, Apple Delicious…" A low, warning growl from Wolfgang that doesn't sound as playful as the words might otherwise be; gaze flickering back towards the ogre, then, his chin dips in a slight nod before he drops himself onto a bench at the table on the other side, leaning forward to rest folded arms there, visage shadowed by the goat's head hood of his fierce raiment, "An interesting proposal— but premature, in my eyes, Underlord. Until each Court has chosen its alpha male - or female - there is no council to discuss, and none to discuss it with."

Grady seems to agree with Wolfgang. "Tis early… but better than late. But if'n such a thing ends up being the the way of things… it gives each Court more to contemplate…" he pauses. "In choosing… that is." He winks the one good eye. "Knowing that one's King canna become a tyrant… makes it easier to choose with a clear conscience. But you are right… that we must walk before we can run… we need Court Kings… before we can choose a "High" one."

In steps a rather short but animated figure. Lise's eyes and head snap around her in sharp jerks as she looks around, "Dirty Steve? Yo! Dirty Steve!" But she doesn't seem to find the partial cross-dressing, bumfighting, homeless guy anywhere. She pauses, however, at the sight of the Changelings seated. Kind of hard not to, especially with the axe, the living coat, and all. She doesn't approach yet, but watches for a moment, hoping her earlier calls for Dirty Steve was drowned out.

"He's gone out, I fear," Red provides in response to the call for 'Dirty Steve'. "But do feel free to join us if you've the mind to? There is coffee aplenty and more then enough oatmeal remaining to soothe the ache of morning." Flashing Lise a smile of welcome, her attention switches back to Gordygone and Wolfgang, one brow twitching faintly in question. "And has the Ashen court taken steps to decide such matters for themselves as yet?" In the wake of her question, her gaze switches to Peony and she cants her head faintly. "And what of you Peony? Surely you've some opinion on the matters raised?"

Peony looks almost frightened when Red says that she has some opinion on the matters raised. A hand lifts and her sharp needle like teeth chew at her thorn like nails. She glances about for a moment and then says, "I.. I don't know. I just do what the other springs tell me to do."

"We shall be meeting," Wolfgang observes with a brief grunt of breath to Red's inquiry, his head shaking ever so slightly, "Those of us whose life was not spread 'cross the Scarecrow's throne… or taken back by the cruel hands of the Lords and Ladies." Dark, his mood and expression now, and he reaches over one clawed, dirty hand for a cup with which to fill another vessel of coffee.

Grady is quiet echoing Wolfgang's sentiment. "We have just begun to talk… slow to start… but we will move quickly once the talking is done."
"Oh…Well, I guess he'll miss out on the sale at Payless," Lise murmurs, peering towards Red before she ventures forward, happy enough to accept some free food. As soon as she reaches the table, the girl opts to place her feet on the bench and her butt on the table before she gestures for her meal. She ignores the current conversation for now, though her ears are perked.

Grady glances over at Lise. "Rumor has it ye peers in Court… are off on a hunt… Hobgoblins to sort?" It seems an almost rhetorical question, voiced in that same New- York Irish sing-song. "Is that battle already done… or did you just miss out on the fun?"

Filling a bowl with oatmeal, Red passes both the bowl and a spoon to Lise. "It is still warm, so your timing is good. Enjoy." Glancing back at Peony, she affords the girl a warm smile noting quietly, "Your opinion is as valid as any of ours, Peony. I, for one, look forward to such time that feel comfortable enough to share it." Drifting back to stand alongside Wolfgang, she glances between the wolf and Gordygone, lips pursing and brows furrowing in an expression that makes it clear she is deep in thought for the moment.

A brief, rough growl that's almost a chuckle spills free of Wolfgang's lips then as he glances sidelong to the burning girl, drawing up the cup in fingers tipped by splintering claws to his lips, pausing as he rumbles lowly, "A vertiable council here already. One from every season… an' who is it that y'usually listen to, little flower?" A tip of his chin, over towards Peony.

Peony's thorns are chewed on a bit more, and she blinks a bit more toward Red and Wolfgang. She looks toward Lise for help now before turning back toward Red. She shifts a moment and says, "Well, it seems to me, that.. is pretty much the way it should be naturally." A glance toward Grady, "I mean, that is. The ruling monarch is the monarch of that season, and we don't really need a council. Just need to make certain no monarch tries to bully the other monarchs, right?" A blink toward Wolfgang and she says, "I, well, I haven't seen the other Springs for a while, but usually whoever is Spring." Or however glares at her the hardest.

"Yea? Fuckin' hell, they never tell a girl about the action, guess that means I missed out," Lise returns, "Unless it is in connection with those Gentry shapeshifters who dressed themselves up as flower-girls and slippped into our special place." She snorts and smirks before canting her head, "Never understood that. Need to find out what we did to the survivors. Any of you heard anythin'?" She accepts the bowl from Red without much of a thanks and dives right in despite the heat, or perhaps because of it. Glancing towards Peony, Lise smirks before murmuring, "Don't freak the Flower-Power out, need her for tomorrow's fight."

Grady grunts and shrugs. "Some of ye fellow hot heads… one by the name of Low-Key… were torturing bogies." He says it as if he finds the notion somewhat silly. "Calling'em Judas Goats or the like…. let them go after forcing Pledges with the edge of knife." He looks over at Red and Wolfgang. "They plan on using them to lure Hobgoblins HERE to Hell's Kitchen for trap and fight. Ye best mind ye pets and keep them close."

Grady adds. "Ye need a Privy Council to prevent any King from getting too high and mighty. Without a check… there is no reason another Scarecrow won't come along."

Frowning at the mention of the luring of Hobgoblins, Red slants a glance up to Wolfgang in a very pointed look. "I will be quite vexed if our patrons are harried in any fashion." Of course, from her tone, she's certain that Wolf would be less then pleased, as well. Rather then comment further, however, she slips behind the wolf, going about the business of pouring herself another cup of coffee. It is as she turns her attention back to the group, that she notes to Gordygone, "We will have to make point to keep in contact, so that once things have been decided internally, your proposal can be discussed by those involved."

At that news, Wolfgang's head jerks up; a flicker of yellow-gold flashing hot in the darkness of his eyes as he looks between Grady and Lise, lips curling back from those canine teeth of his in a wordless snarl that rumbles up from deep in his throat. "Judas Goats… a dangerous ploy. An' here? In Hell's Kitchen?" Styrofoam crunches beneath his claws, gaze narrowing as he rumbles out in barely-human tones, "…I'll keep my teeth sharp for their throats, an' my claws for their hides."

Grady nods to the Wolf. "I believe that is what they told them… Hell's Kitchen… seems an odd place to set a trap fer Hobgoblins… when there be so many better." He shrugs. "But perhaps they have their reasons. I jes'thought ye should know something may go down in ye territory. I'm sure they would have gotten around to telling ye."
"Oh no." Peony says nervously at the mention of a fight, her eyes wide for a moment. She looks toward Lise and she asks, "Do you think I should stay in case there will be wounded?" She chews at her thorns a bit more.

"Low-Key? Mmm, need to keep an eye on him, I like his style." Lise returns, "Judas Goats, heh, cute." Her eyes then slide on over towards Wolfgang as she slides her eyebrows upwards, "You sound as hungry as Mr. Sunshine." Taking a huge bite of the oatmeal, Lise chews on it slightly before swallowing the bite. Glancing at Peony, Lise cants her head, "It'll be a boon, but you do what your thorny little heart wishes. Just know that we can't drop what we're doin' to protect ya either."

Less then pleased at the notion of battles occuring in her domain, Red focuses her immediate attention on the drinking of coffee. She does, however, slant a glance toward Lise, her displeasure apparent on her face. "Cute, indeed. T'would be a pity to lose 'Dirty Steve' or any of the others to such beasties." Another sip of her coffee is taken as Red draws back a step and sets her cup down in favor pulling the partially concealed hood up over corkscrew curls. "It seems that organization has just become more urgent then it was a moment ago," she murmurs under her breath.

Grady snorts and still seems to find the whole notion one of distaste. "I dinna mind a fight now and then… but wasting time on bogies only helps the Gentry win. Tis better to tame them… them over to our side… or at least come to and understanding… which keeps them aside." He shrugs and one hand fingers the axe haft on his lap. His one good eye studying Lise closely. "What about it do ye like lil'darling lass… the fact that he is picking a fight… with no profit in it to last?" He chortles. "Or that he chose the territory of another with plenty of innocents around… upon which to hold his battleground?" His tone seems genuinely curious. "It is said in some corners that Summer just likes to fight. Autumn wants to win." He looks back at Red and Wolfgang. "I've know doubt that Low-Key and his Summer crew can handle Hobgoblins few…" He shrugs. "I could handle a brigade of them meself. But there will be ramifications… there always will… and I stand ready to aid you should their wine cup spill." His voice goes lower. "A pitched battle in ye domain… my draw Gentry to the grisly flame. We all know they have a taste fer it."

Peony's eyes are wide for a moment as she looks toward Lise, "I can.. get the wilds to help me if I need. I, I think." She glances toward Red and Wolfgang and then back to Lise. At the mention of the Gentry, her teeth all but rattle and she oozes fear from her pores. She looks toward Lise with wide eyes and asks, "The.. Ge.. Gen.. They won't really be drawn just because of some hobs will they?"

A slow roll of Wolfgang's shoulders lifts first one, then the other, the brassy rattling of the feathers of Stymphalian birds that drape one shoulder of its mantle shifting on their own, the bloodied eyes of the goat's head turning to Lise. "…I've no love for the servants of the Gentry. There's more to be gained from them from their carcasses than their lying tongues. I will defend this territory if your brother brings his fight here… an' may fate help him if that fight harms those under my care."

At the mention of losing the homeless, Lise cants her head, "I hope you don't think I am that neglectful. Just spread the word that they better go to the other soup kitchen and it should be fine." Her eyes flick towards Grady and her hair actually seems to flare up as she watches him intently. "Oh, sure, it's not like we haven't had backstabbers before, right? Lets bring every Tom, Dick, and Harry in. /Great/ winning strategy there." Her eyes then turn to regard them, "There is /always/ a chance of innocents, no matter the place. Better it be in a place we know and have the advantage, and far enough away from our hidey hole."

"Perhaps it would be more seemly to have your fight elsewhere," Red suggests in tones as chill as a winter's morning. "At the moment, your kin tread dangerous ground and this is hardly the time for the making of ill will between us." A glance, as cold as frost follows the words and Red turns her back to begin gathering up cups and bowls. It is tones that are marginally warmer, albeit not by much, that she adds, "The offer of aide, should it be necessary is appreciated and shall be remembered, Gordygone Spleenripper."

Grady seems to find that reaction from Lise amusing. "I never said anything about trusting them no did I?" He shrugs. "If'n ye treat all as foes… all will be. Sad as it is to say… Hobgoblins are numerous as raindrops and not going away." He picks up his cup and carefully drinks again, getting it past his tusks. "Hobgoblins are turncoats… that is true… but they betray the Gentry just as fast as they do me or you. They be the best alarm system money can buy… informants on Arcadia… with keen eyes." He sets the cup back down. "But have it ye own way… if'n ye like. Slay them at any provocation… fight them with spite." He pauses. "But they dinna be the Gentry… those who wronged us so… they are but animals without souls. I prefer to figh them only when I must." He looks at Red. "The offer is always open maiden of snow… both because ye are hospitable… and also because me friend Wolfgang's esteem you hold."

Peony continues to stare on, obviously frightened. Oh the timidness.

"Too much blood of our courts lays upon the stones since the Scarecrow's Folly," Wolfgang growls deep in his throat, his head shaking tightly, "This is not the time to be… drawing the enemy to us to face them. This is the time to be gathering, organizing, preparing; not inviting our foes into our homes to face us at our weakest."

"Grow some balls," Lise declares openly as she regards them. "The only good hobgoblin is a dead hobgoblin. Every one that drops is one less to worry about. The fact that we actually /have/ unpledged mannikens swarming into our special place doesn't seem to bother you guys, but doing an actual fight against an actual enemy in a none-sacred -…no offense, place does?" She snorts and leans back. "We didn't say the fight is right outside your door. Hell's Kitchen is huge, nearly twenty fuckin' blocks. Hell, they might go for the west side by the Hudson River."

"Let us hope that they do," Red says tones that are still chill. "This is not the time for such things, as Wolfgang has said." Slanting a glance back at Lise as she carries the styrofoam cups to a trash can, Red remains with the shadowy shelter of her hood. "I would think the Crimson Court would be equally concerned with reestablishing a measure of order. But then, perhaps, this is your way of deciding such things?" She cannot say and will not try. "In case, my position and thoughts on the matter have been made clear. Fight to your hearts content, so long as it affects not our charges."

Peony bites her lower lip with her needle sharp teeth, staring onto the conversation. She doesn't add anything to it.

Grady loses the smile and frowns slightly. The drawing down of his lips makes his tusks seem larger. "Ye be lucky that although this dinna be a Freehold… is the territory of those in esteem I hold." His voice is quiet and drips a bit of venom. "Dinna confuse wisdom with cowardice. If'n ye do.. I'll gladly meet ye for a Hedge Duel." His voice is cold and brisk now like an Autumn wind. "Explain to me the profit of this venture… beyond the only good hobgoblin is a dead one… and I will gladly beg ye pardon." His one good eye is locked on Lise. "Kill ten today… fight a hundred tomorrow… kill a hundred more… face a legion by the season's score. It is one thing and smart… to lay low those those who come fer our hearts… but to attempt to draw them into battle is insane… we canna replace our losses… and they can without shame. Even if we kill a 100 to 1… our one loss… is equal to the sun."

A flicker of yellow-gold in dark eyes that fall upon the firey-haired girl, and Wolfgang's lips tug up at one corner to reveal one lupine fang. "You misunderstand my concern, girl. I _know_ that I can defend my territory, should the fight spill here…" A shift of his shoulders, almost a shrug, "…but when a true battle comes t'us? Where will the Iron Spear be? Their blood painting Hell's Kitchen for a fight drawn unnecessarily?"

Lise is eyeing Grady, but Wolfgang's words snags her attention quick enough. "Oh don't give me that, it was the Scarecrow's blood that painted the Hollow last time, so evidently your way wasn't exactly the right way, was it?" At that, her lips spread to expose her own teeth as they pull into a grin that don't quite reach her eyes.

"You, Gordygone Spleenripper," Red notes in tones considerably less chill. "Prove yourself to be a fair friend in both word and deed, such is appreciated in times like these." Drifting back to Wolfgang's side, the maiden of snow turns her regard on Lise, her expression returning to icy chillness. "You are making no friends here, daughter of Summer. While your desire for conflict is strong, one might suggest caution in face of the fact that, at this time, we need one another more then we need discord." Folding her arms over her chest, her words trail off, although that chilly stare remains unblinkingly on Lise.

Grady seems to relax and looks at Red. "True words… and…" he looks back at Lise. "If my temper added to ye wrath… I will be the bigger monster and apologize for that. We all want to pay them back… but valor without wisdoms… and soon our lives we will lack. This is why the Courts need to gather… Kings selected and High King enthroned." He pauses. "So that we all aren't acting and dying alone."
Peony adds meekly to the mix, "I.. I thought the Wyrd chose the monarch."

"So typical of the Iron Spear…" A curl of Wolfgang's lips in a toothsome smile as he leans back slightly, his head shaking slowly from side to side, "…to strike out rather than answer criticism." A dismissive brush of a clawed hand through the air towards the burning woman, back and forth, "Enjoy your massacre, girl, and hope that it is of them, not you. But remember when you find yourself standing alone…" To his feet, slowly, a stir of body and coat rising from the bench, "…that you refused the council of autumn and winter."

Flicking her grey eyes onto Red, Lise cants her head once more. "Friends? Why? Because I you what I think? I am a Fireheart under the bright sun, do you really think I would sit back and plot and plan things out? You guys may do that for as long as you wish, until then I would rather busy myself in ensuring that you have /time/ to plot and plan out. Boredom with the heat of the sun on my back is as bad as, well, idle hands being the devil's play things." Her eyes then flick towards Wolfgang, "I would rather die in such a massacre, then in my bed," she admits.
Peony chews on her thorny fingernails, peering toward Lise with wide violet eyes.

"Unfortunately," Red points out to Lise. "You are not merely sharing your thoughts. You are acting and by such acts, you are endangering us all. While I am more then willing to say have at and have fun with your bloody antics, when it has the potential to involve those of us less inclined toward bloody massacre? I can only say that steps have been taken out of bounds. Still," she adds with a pointed glance at Gordygone and the others. "All the more reason for organization to be of paramount import for the rest of us."

Grady grunts. "And it would be a death in vain would it not?" He has shifted his eye to study Lise again. "Tis the Gentry that ye owe… and it is they we would see rot." He adopts the smile again, perhaps out of politeness… it is hard to tell. "If'n ye are going to sell ye life… dinna do it cheap. Give it when it has purpose… and leads to the Gentry's eternal grief. Boredom is hardly a worthy reason for a battle." He looks at Red and nods in now silent agreement to her words.

That wolf's smile lingers unwavering upon Wolfgang's visage, teeth gleaming in the shadow of his goat's head hood as his own dark eyes watch Lise's own; his only addition to the conversation right now a low, rumbling suggestion of, "…I can think of some ways to change your mind there, fire-heart."

"I'd rather choose what is in vain and what isn't. If I lived my life to your values, it wouldn't be much of my life would it? While I appreciate your concern about how I should die, I would rather follow my own." With that Lise glances towards Red and Wolfgang before placing the oatmeal back onto the table. "Look, I'll talk to Low-Key and make sure it's nowhere near your place, deal? You're right, if it's a fight that is mainly a Summer court's concern, then you shouldn't be involved…" She trails off and cants her head towards the wolfman. "I'd rather not be a patch on your coat, as /lovely/ as it is."

"Should you manage such a feat," Red assures Lise. "There is safety for you here, should you ever need it. It is not our intent to tie the hands of the Summer Court, or to suggest that you follow our own ways. Rather it is a cautioning that such acts be done in a fashion so as not to bring doom upon the heads of all of the courts." At Wolfgang's statement, Red slants a glance in his direction, her expression unreadable. Rather then comment, she looks back at Lise and notes. "I would, on a personal note, rather strike acceptable accords between us, but again, such things can only solidified once order of a sort has been established." And, true to her words, the chillness both in the air, and in her tones, fades.

Grady throws in while now looking down at his coffee. "And that if'n ye and ye Court wish to terrorize goblins… and excute them grand… dinna do it in the Freehold. Get ye own quarters fer that. Until a High King sits there and commands it… it is inappropriate place fer that." He looks up. "A Freehold has to mean something… both to Changeling and them creatures of the Hedge with whom we must deal. When they come in arms against it we kill them… but otherwise we should deal."

A bark of rough laughter from Wolfgang, brief, sharp, before he reaches out in a swift motion to wrap his fingers about the handle of the now-emptied coffee pot (save for the dregs, lingering black and lonely in its depths) and sweep it from the table's surface. His head shakes slowly as he walks away, 'cross the center's floor and towards the kitchen doors once more, heavy boots thumping with every step.

At Wolfgang's laughter, Lise smirks before she glances towards Red, bobbing her head in understanding until Grady speaks. She blinks and just stares at him, looks towards Peony to see if she heard the same thing, then back towards Grady. "You…do realize that one of the reasons I gave for picking Hell's Kitchen is /because/ it's far from the Freehold? That's what I've been saying for the past…aw hell, nevermind."

Grady chuckles. "But that dinna be where they were threatening the bogies life… extracting pledges at the edge of a knife. I found them doing that in the Freehold."
Peony blinks a bit more, most of the conversation seeming to go over her head. She frets with her thorns a bit, and then goes to finish her now very very cold oatmeal. She looks toward Lise with wide eyes and raise eyebrows.

Having made her point on all fronts, Red glances after Wolfgang before looking back at the others. "If you will all excuse me, I have other matters to which I must attend." Affording each of them a smile, she sweeps a polite curtsy before stepping toward the hallway that leads toward her apartment. "Feel free to make yourselves at home, however." And with the invitation to stay extended, she inclines her head, hood billowing and slips out for the time being.

Grady lumbers to his feet as manners demand when his hoste prepares to leave the room. "Thank ye kindly o'maiden of snow. Hopefully I can return the hospitality before the new season grows old."

At that, Lise actually facepalms, slapping her palm to her face before muttering, "Yes, you were definitely not listening. They /snuck/ in, they broke in, we caught them and stopped them from, you know, fucking us over. That's what I was talking about earlier -…He did it there cause they already /know/ about the fucking place. It's what I was complaining about allowing every Tom Dick and Harry. Fuckin' Hell." She then lifts her hand up and waves towards Red.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License