Greater Easthaven Roll for Perception

[Hailey Watts]

Hailey stood just inside the entrance to the Renaissance Fair. Once past the threshold, the event enveloped her in a vibrant array of costumes, ranging from magical to medieval. Several attendees already held giant turkey legs in their hands. To her right, a booth offered costume rentals at what she was sure was an egregious rate, but she couldn’t help but consider trying on a tunic.

Diflu Woods provided a welcome reprieve from the city. The woods were a refreshing break, especially in autumn, with leaves changing colors and a chill filling the air that made her long for a cup of tea. Upper Fens had certainly charmed her, particularly the Ink Pot, but working third shift was... interesting.

The area had plenty of hotspots for teenage shenanigans. She received frequent calls about kids sneaking into Eden Cemetery past sundown. No matter how many times she went, she always managed to get turned around in there. Then there were the visits to Mottershead Park and, worst of all, Mottershead Asylum. On both occasions at the Asylum, the kids had come running out, screaming, and she was grateful she had never had to set foot inside.

That was life lately—handling accident reports and chasing after teens to return them to their wealthy parents. It wasn’t exactly why Hailey had joined the force, but it was a step in the right direction. But this? This was a nice break.

With her map of the fair in hand, she pondered where to go and what to do first. Stages for plays, jousting, archery, and other activities were clearly marked. The map even included a network of hiking trails and designated areas for live-action role-play. Hailey’s eyes lit up; as a D&D player herself, she couldn’t wait to see it in action.

After idling there long enough, she turned to the costume rental booth and picked out a navy blue tunic that fit over her clothes, cinching at the waist. She took a selfie and sent it to her sister.

“Okay, time for a beer,” she declared. Just like that, she felt transported to the 1500s as she headed toward the tavern, eager to encounter whatever adventures awaited her.

[Max Kuryakin]

Strike (Preternatural senses) Exceptional success

Max hadn't been to all that many ren fairs in his life. A couple of visits to King Richard's Faire when he'd been a teenager, a joust once, in Germany, but he barely remembered them. He'd been casually curious about the whole thing when the flyers had started popping up. He remembered it from last year too, but he'd been too busy to pay attention to it.

Now, Max was both working on the festival grounds and keeping an eye out for familiar faces. He'd spent the first half of the day at the medic's tent, occasionally heading out to deal with minor emergencies. It was mostly dehydration and minor injuries, nothing truly alarming. Although, there'd been a close call near the blacksmithing tents when an ember had almost set the woods on fire. A few reminders on fire safety to the young apprentice blacksmith and some additional preventative measures dealt with that.

Now, moving past afternoon, Max had been relieved by the next shift's arrival, finally freed up to wander the grounds himself. He was still in the uniform, although more relaxed than any emergency response ever had him. His suspenders hung down around his hips, his uniform trousers black with bright yellow markings, and his shirt declared him as one of the medics.

Checking his phone, he saw nothing new was waiting for him, just the text exchange he'd had with Em about being at the fair, teasing her about coming to keep him company at the medic station, and the one from yesterday with Hailey. She'd mentioned she'd be coming, he'd mentioned he'd be working until now, but they should find a time. From the time she'd given him, he figured she had to be newly arrived unless she was running late.

Max tucked the phone away, heading towards the entry area. The whole place was bustling, a riot of colours with the cloaks and the tunics. Some of it looked more fantasy, while others went the more historical route, but Max's understanding only went so far. He probably missed out on the nuances. The miasma of the place added to it; wafting body odour, cooking food, smoke, and wood sap. He caught the cloying sweetness of cotton candy too. By now he was used to every scent and stink of a city clogging up his nose, so it was a little easier to ignore it all out here. Still, he wondered if he could catch familiar scents even in all of this. Or unfamiliar, considering he'd only had a short meeting to take in Hailey's scent in person. Was she even here?

He took a moment, standing out of the way of the incoming and outgoing foot traffic, but then he caught what he thought might be what he remembered from that meeting at the coffee shop. He followed it, craning his neck to look over the heads of the crowd and following what he'd started to think of as the 'main street' of the place. It led straight to the tavern, and as he got closer he finally spotted Hailey, queueing for a drink, maybe?

“Hey, Hailey!” Max called, catching her attention as he caught up with her, grinning as he stepped up next to her. “Blending in with the locals?” he teased, reaching out to tug at the sleeve of her tunic, a stark contrast to his very modern uniform.

[Hailey Watts]

Hailey heard her name and turned to see Max. “Isn't it awesome? I couldn't resist!” She reached down, grabbing a piece of the hanging fabric and running her thumb over the embroidery along the edge.

It was just a simple tunic and belt—hardly a full cosplay experience. But it was enough to help her fit in, to feel part of the atmosphere and, in her own way, add to it.

She loved dressing up, even though she didn’t have a creative bone in her body; she was definitely more of the buy-it-instead-of-make-it type of cosplayer. It was a chance to be something other than what she was every day.

She imagined it was similar to how others felt when getting dressed up for a wedding or gala—hair, makeup, dress, the whole nine yards. But she hated formal attire. Give her a Viking outfit and an axe over a dress any day.

Hailey sized up Max in his work uniform and playfully tugged at one of his hanging suspenders. “You, sir, are not fitting in with the locals. Are you off? Can I buy you a beer, then we can head to the costume tent?”

[Max Kuryakin]

Grinning at her enthusiasm., Max took a moment to take in the full tunic, now seeing that there was some kind of trim along the edges. Genuine medieval? He didn't have a single clue, but it looked medieval enough, he guessed. He'd spotted some of the booths with little booklets explaining why their thing was a replication of genuine archaeological finds, but he couldn't hope to spot anything like that without help. “Pretty cool,” he agreed with a laugh before she shifted her attention to what he was wearing.

The laugh faded to a chuckle as she tugged at his hanging suspenders, playfully swatting her hand away. “Costume tent? No way! I'm off duty, but I'm not going native,” Max asserted, grinning as he said it, even if the mere concept of going to some off-the-rack costuming place made his skin crawl. “Won't say no to a drink, though,” he continued, outwardly still all grins and charm, trying not to think about wearing rental clothing that smelled of every other person that'd touched or worn it, the scents that a single wash couldn't erase.

[Hailey Watts]

Hailey was listening to Max, thrilled he had agreed to have a drink, even if he didn’t want to dress up. All smiles, they stepped up to the counter -- he had found her already in line. “What'll it be?” Her gaze shifting to the woman at the counter dressed as a tavern wench. The dress was damp with beer, the corset tight, and Hailey's eyes unintentionally landed on her cleavage. Quickly, she looked back to Max and began her nervous ramble. “Oh wow, yes! A very accurate garb for a bar wench. 'Wench' comes from Middle English and was a common term for girl or servant.”

“I’ve got a line, dear. What’ll it be?” the server prompted, raising an eyebrow at Hailey, who was now avoiding her gaze. “Two ales, please!” she declared in her most narrative voice, cringing at herself.

Within a minute, the server dropped two giant steins of beer in front of them. Hailey paid for both, and they stepped off to the side with their drinks. “Cheers!” she said, clinking her glass against Max's, not waiting for him to respond before taking a big swig.

[Max Kuryakin]

Max's quick answer to her question was a quick 'whatever's on tap' before they were almost immediately confronted by the woman manning the counter. He only caught where Hailey's eyes landed first because he'd been watching her, but the look at him and the nervous babbling that erupted immediately after might've given him a good idea even if he hadn't caught it. He pressed his lips together over a laugh, cheeks ballooning as he watched her babble out the etymology for 'wench' before the woman stopped her short.

They got their ales ordered, at least, and Max lifted a hand to stave off the laughter in the moments they were left waiting, bowing his head as he cleared his throat over the urge. When the steins arrived, Hailey was quick to pay and snap one up, and Max took the second, following her with a snicker as she clinked her glass and immediately started swigging it.

“Yeah, here's to... historically accurate bar wenches, huh?” Max teased, emphasis adding innuendo as he finally let himself laugh. He kept it low, almost rumbling out of his chest, rather than a loud outburst. He lifted the stein, ready to take a sip, but letting the laughter out before he tried.

[Hailey Watts]

“To historically accurate bar wenches,” she toasted, glancing back over her shoulder at the woman before taking another drink from her mug. When she came up for air, she found Max heartily laughing at her.

Without the woman's cleavage in her direct line of sight, Hailey noticed her facial features: dark eyes and brunette hair. Gorgeous.

“Laugh it up!” she chimed in, laughing along with him. “I suck at women. They’re just so pretty—and scary—and pretty.” She rolled her eyes at Max, not minding that he was getting a laugh at her expense.

They moved slowly, not really heading in any particular direction or with any purpose. “There’s a stein-holding contest later. Maybe I can win it and impress her,” Hailey joked.

But she knew there was a slim chance of her winning a game of arm strength. She had tried bouldering once, and that had been the beginning and end of that.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a map of the fair. “Anything you want to do?”

[Max Kuryakin]

Finally stopping his laughter enough to get a sip of the beer, Max tried not to laugh again as Hailey defended herself. Badly, but she was being cute about it, so Max tamped down on the laughter and stuck his nose in his stein, drinking down a solid swallow as Hailey joked about feats of strength impressing the woman. Lowering the stein, Max swiped his hand over his mouth as he chuckled, Hailey moving to change the subject.

“I dunno, hanging around here seems to be in your interest,” he teased, glancing at the woman working the bar, before looking back at Hailey, arching an eyebrow. One corner of his mouth curled upwards. “I can give her your number if you're shy, you know? I'm a great wingman.”