Log:Sacred Order of the Alabaster Bitches

Sacred Order of the Alabaster Bitches
Sunblinding with Backsides
Participants Vorpal Sigrun Clio	7 February, 2018 Vorpal and Sigrun are heading back to the real world when they run into Clio. Figuratively. Many swears later, plans are made.
Location The Hedge - Rainbowside Markets
"...sn't there usually, but if it is, means the manor's open for guests," Vorpal explains as he leads the way through the maze of the markets. He and Sigrun have come from the Mad Garden, where he showed her where the trod leading to his Hollow- when he's opened it- exists. No badass armor this time, just Vorpal in street clothes and his greatcoat with all manner of stabbies presumably laid out throughout his clothing. They're heading towards the Hedge Gate back into the real world, likely after a few skirmishes- Vorpal can't walk the Hedge without dragging attention from the nastiest of the locals. The lack of abundant arms and armor on Sigrun would, if one knows her well, speak of where they're headed. She's also dressed in street clothes, unarmed save for a functional knife strapped to her belt. Despite the relative safety of their environs, she's still got her head up and her eyes on the crowd of hobs as they bustle about and do their business. Like Vorpal, her presence in the hedge is hard to mistake. It's simply drowned out by his own, for the most part. Despite, she glows with defiant blue-white light in spite of his shadow presence. So. Take that! "Makes sense. Good way to keep Hob Amway from showing up trying to sell you toothpaste. Once I've met my court, or as much as wants to meet me, I intend to start setting down roots." Clio has less of a metaphysical presence in the hedge as Vorpal but she isn't hard to spot. Where some prefer sneaking Clio, wrapped in her armor with her trident on hand is a beacon of deep ultra-violet-blue. Her hair is oulled back in a series of braids to keep her feathers and hair back from her face. The Legionaire is out on patrol, making her way along the paths checking the gates and she just so happens to be doing the gate within the Rainbowside Markets. Here those Hobbs are do linger near avoid the petite glowing Harpy, some outright fearful of her." "Makes sense. I'd want to meet my comrades before starting to set myself up as well, truth told." Vorpal pauses as he catches sight of excess light down the way, squinting and hurrying forward quietly, but straightening and laughing after peeking around a corner, waving Sigrun forward. "CLIO!" He calls over the din of the hob market. "C'mere! I got someone for you to meet, bet you two'll get on great!" Sigrun steps around the corner with a curious expression on her face. New people? New people are good. Even if she, in this particular instance, is actually the new person. There's a brief pause to look Calliope over and get the proverbial cut of her jib, after which Sigrun's smile broadens. She even starts forward with a hand extended for shaking. Or clasping. Or whatever it is that is done. "It's always nice to meet a fellow member of the alabaster skin club. I'll know who else to suggest for stealthy winter missions, now." On account of white skin, see. "Sigrun Ljosdottir. Charmed Circle. Nice to meetcha." Calliope looks up from where she's inspecting the area towards the familiar voice. Hobbs near and around her slowly inch out of her view as she lifts her gaze and spots the shadow really before she even spots Johnny. "Fuckin' hey!" She chirps in her cheerflly abrasive Northeaster accent. "How's it fuckin' hangin' V-man." The petite punk makes her way over towards Jhnny and Sigrun as she joins the Godling. "Fuckin' hey, nice to fuckin meetcha too. Calliope motherfuckin' Kraus'." Her strut holds the cofidence of four people twice her size. Up close, Clio's marble skintone takes on a strange backlit quality an occasionally balls of St. Elmos fire touch against her skin - usually when her hair or one of the fireflies spinning about her head like halo touches her skin. "Hah, fuckin' right? I figure we just fuckin' help the sneak one's hide fuckin better." She half-jokes. "To be fair, you guys are both walking outbreaks of mobile -snow blindness-," snorts Vorpal from behind his comfortable, if well-assaulted, swaths of shadow. He stands lookout while the girls get acquainted, a length of stabapple spinning idly in one hand, carving impossible arcs through the air at the behest of the divine fingers guiding its movements. "Don't know why it never occured to me to introduce you two on purpose." Likewise, Sigrun seems to be etched with nordic runes and knotwork patterns in lapis and greestone. Which is an odd look for an otherwise healthy fleshy person, by all accounts. She is otherwise the very likeness of an alabaster lamp. Suffuse with light from within. "Vorpal has a point," Sigrun points out, "we could just go all Gondor Calls For Aid and have done, if it comes to it." Hand shaken, Sigrun takes a half step back and settles her hands on her hips. "Calliope Kraus. Clio. Oh! Your name came up when we were talking about wrangling the court together to get some cohesion going. Fill some court positions and so on. That hold any interest to ya, or are you avowedly apolitical like Teagan?" She beams as she chats with Sigrun, a gregrious little blue canary nightlight. She chirps out laughter, "Too fuckin' true." She agrees, though only one hand goes to her hip because the other is holding the storm trident made of brass and lightning in the other. "Yeah, it's a little fuckin harder than I'd fucking like it to be. I'm a fuckin Legionaire and I fuckin have to patrol the area since it seems like the other fucker left. I aint fuckin' apolitical or no fuckin' such thing just fuckin busy. Mind you, I am always fuckin down to help." The petite Summer's mantle is a warm cliffside breeze with seaspray and the distant call of thunder.. or a massie amy roaring in a epic clash. Vorpal beams quietly as the women seem to be getting on famously, adding only, "Clio's from back in Maine, where I came from. We've been friends for a long time. Maybe even longer than I've known November. That's crazy to think." He murmurs the last, then gets back to watching everyone's backs- and backsides. Sigrun has a minor freak out when Clio mentions she's a Legionaire. She hops from foot to foot and punches at the air with the excess of her enthusiasm. "WHAT?!" Apparently this is super good news. "Ohmigosh. Okay. So. I was planning to work on opening a place for weapon training. Combat training in general. And, like. That's your whole -bag-. Well. A lot of your bag. Why are you not the Iron Adjutant? Or, heck, the Wroth General? Or the Arrayer of Distant Thunder? You guys are *made* for those roles." Sigrun then considers what Vorpal says, and that seems to clinch it for her. "If you've been friends with Vorpal for that long, and he sweaers by you, then ohmigosh do we need you. Are you in the Harvestmen, by chance?" She sounds hopeful that Clio is. The enthusiastic rhetorical question makes Clio's light flair andshe fluffs up, not to say she gets larger but there's a a sense of it as her wide blue eyes blink rapidly a few moments. "Because.. That was supposedly fucking Omar Thorn. Well up til a few fucking months ago and since he was the fuckin' big dog on campus I kept to the fuckin' side lines. Since fucking then, well, I have shit fuckin' timing." She admits with a wrinkle of her nose. "As for a fuckin' place to learn there's Stoneheart where I go to fucking practice when I'm not runnin the ropes with fuckin Mr. Dangerously over fuckin' here. Also no not a fuckin' harvestman. I it my fuckin patrols while most fuckin' people are asleep. But if folks on't fuckin mind morning or late night fuckin classes I'm always fuckin down to teach some motherfuckers." Vorpal nods along with Clio's explanation, though it's clear the titles Sigrun rattles off go over his head. "Like she said, it's mostly a matter of timing. She's serious about her patrols and it keeps her busy when it's convenient for everyone else to meet and greet. Otherwise, she'd be a prime candidate for Summer and combat leadership. But no, she's not part of the Harvestmen. I am, though." "Stoneheart is only open to members of the Freehold, if I recall correctly. And while I intend to support the Freehold fully, it's hard to recruit and train non-freeholders without some other place to do so. Plus, I am keen to train up the mortals, too. Good source of glamour, for one, and you can never prepare those folks too much for trouble. Fragile little things. Plus, Damion King offered to let me build out a place near his boxing gym. We could end up with a little knot of Summer training facilities, there." Sigrun then ticks her head Vorpal's way, "Vorpal here, he runs Aspire. And he'd said I could start giving self defense lessons there, too. To their members. Which might interest you, or not. But I intend to make good on that promise. As well as join the Harvestmen." There's a small pause. "I'm curious why you haven't joined! Seems right up your alley." Sigrun nods aside to Vorpal, lifting a hand in reassurance. "I'm not saying she isn't. The Iron Legion are amazing people, every single one of 'em. I'm just looking for ways to help her out, honestly. Support her in being where she'd rather be. Also, that's awesome. If you could let Dielle know I'd be interested in joining up? You know. Once I'm sworn in and all." Calliope rubs the back of her head and heh's quietly, "Sure, sure. Fuckin totally fuckin' fair." She bobs her head "I know about Vorpal's fuckin' gym and there's been fuckin' noises about me rnning cardio classes." Her lips twist into a cheeky smile and she winks at the shadow. She turns her head back to the Valkyrie, head tilting sharply. "Straight and to the fucking point. I'm not exactly fucking diplomatic. I'm not fucking charming. I don't give a fuck about peoples feelings or fucking drama. I make for a great fucking wingman and friend, but a /really shitty/ drill instructor unless I'm dealing with a group of fucking mena nd women I am literally shaping into Centurions." She explains without even a hint of shame. "I know a bit about fuckin DL, but I haven't had the fuckin' time to meet'r. Vorp was supposed to fucking introduce us." Cordy steps in through the gate, leaving the mortal world behind. Vorpal gets visibly uncomfortable at the discussion point of using Mortals for Glamour. He doesn't call them on it, but he does fidget and turn away, focusing elsewhere while they talk that over. "I can absolutely let her know. I've seen you fight, I've got at least a decent feel for the sort of person you are, you're the sort of Harvestman we need," he admits. "We're short on fighters. Really short. REALLY short." "That's another one of those timing's shitty cases. She'd be happy to meet you, we just gotta get the timing down. I'm sorry I haven't made it happen just yet, really I am." "Well, I'm the charming one," Sigrun admits, touching the golden torc she's wearing around her throat, "that's sort of the point. I can be diplomatic and soothe bruised egos and talk nice and assuage difficult personalities, and so on. That's literally my calling, really. Professional cat herder, yanno? But if we can get this court to stand up and lock shields, everyone is going to be the better for it. Everyone. In every court, all through the freehold. And the humans, too. So, yeah. Let's meet Dielle. Let's talk about becoming Harvestmen. And whe it comes to fighting, I'll follow your lead." Sigrun bobs her head agreeably, then reaches over to pat Vorpal's arm and give it a reassuring squeeze. "You've been a tremendous help to me since my arrival, Vorpal. Don't think I'm not enormously grateful, because I am." Calliope narros her eyes at Vorpal when he says Really short and shifts her weight to one hip and sniffs at him. She seems mroe amused than angry though. "No fuckin' problem, Johnny. You fuckin' know me. When it comes to dealin' with other fuckin' people, comme ci comme ça." She turns her attention back towards Sigrun listening to her with curious eyes and she smiles. "Well I'll try and pop into the Summer parties from time to time then if I get free time." "Eh?" He seems a touch startled that Sig's trying to reassure him, and it takes him a moment to get an idea what she might be talking about. "Oh. Oh, no, I was put off by the- glamour thing. I don't take glamour from mortals. Stupid, but. Feels too much like Them. Rather waste an hour finding fruit than take one step closer. That's what had me uncomfortable." He flashes a grin at Sig and flips a hand up to squeeze the one on his shoulder. He catches Clio's amused sniff, pauses- "Oh, come on, you're not one of us, that isn't even a joke on you!" "That's one way to get glamour. Some of us don't like hunting for fruits alone. Or have hollows with gardens for growing in. So." Sigrun gives one more squeeze, then lets Vorpal be. "On that note, folks, I need to be about it. My social calendar, such as it is, has filled up a lot since I started this whole 'networking' thing. Maybe I'll see you at the meeting this weekend, Clio." Sigrun pauses to lean up and give Vorpal a smooch on the cheek, then starts off about her way again, clapping Clio on the shoulder as she passes the other summer by. "Great meeting you, Legionaire. See you both around."