#baronyofthesilverwolf

A burn of fire spreads over her tongue! It would make a weaker woman reel or keel over, but Gwen is STRONG!

Her eyes burn a touch, but she weathers it - and as the heat fades, she can appreciate the lingering sensation, balanced fruity heat with vinegar, though not really her favorite.

It has nothing on Marigold's au poivre peppercorn sauce - hot, sure, but lacking a bit in complexity compared to the Boggan's fare.

"I've had better," Gwen finally says and betrays no sign of weakness... "I can see how those who confuse heat for flavor might revere it."

Even though sweat does bead a little on Gwen's brow

Art grins, finally able to pause from fanning his mouth./

She rolls her eyes. "You ain't, you're just loyal."

"Let me respond to your commentary with a brilliant rejoinder: 'Have to!'"

Art laughs! Citrine buzzes over and leans in for a sniff.

"Easy, Citrine, think of this like a bug zapper on your innards or eating a firework."

She tilts her head, contemplatively pinging one brain cell off another, then dips a hand in, licking it off as though it were honey from a bowl.

"Oh dear. I tried." She ponders how THIS will work on a Cyber never.

There is a faint sizzling sound, and a wisp of smoke.

Citrine considers, gives a disinterested chime, and goes to check out the cherry cola.

Art's chin drops a little.

"Well, I'll be."

"I confess, I'm impressed." Gwen admits "I just hope she didn't melt something internally."

"Hey, I built her right."

"Gotta be at least a little fire-resistant here."

"True, your Kiln beats that sauce even," Gladiola sees her point.

As they settle in and nibble at the food, Art swipes a bit of (NORMAL) sauce from the corner of his mouth with a napkin, then glances sideways at Thistle.

“So,” he says, curious, “have you picked your electives for senior year yet?”

"Art, of course, then AP Chem, AP Physics." For all that Thistle talks about not going to college, she's consistently pulled high grades.

"We're gonna make trebuchets in Physics, Mr. Weisl promised."

"Whoever launches their pumpkin the furthest wins a prize."

"Are you allowed to add exterior powered propulsion, or simply leverage principles?"

"Oh hey, there are contests among the fae for siege engines too" Gwen perks up.

"The powered propulsion is for the potatoes." A shark-toothed grin.

Gwen remembers that class! She specifically remembers that one of Chuck's friends snuck a rotten gourd in that showered a group of teachers and made him miss graduation. Oh, JB, where is that guy now?

Gwen's brow knits as she recalls JR and some others, she's hasn't completely lost track but she has let things distance a bit.

Let's see... Pam went to cosmetology school, surprisingly, it turns out that she had a flair for hairstyling. JB... last she knew, they were still on again off again and he was working at the local grocery store doing midnight stock. Honest work, if not glamorous.

Still, the pumpkin exploding was funny.

Art goes on, "then you could use tater tots, perhaps frozen, for a smaller handheld projectile gun?"

The conversation carrying on as Gwen reminisced

"...the right fuel could cook said tots as they were fired."

"JR launched a rotten gourd, and he is working at a grocery store. He might be a supply of great ammo and some ideas," Gwen mutters aloud.

"Like, bam, hot tater tot distance delivery?"

"I dunno - rot probably leads to an unbalanced shot. If anything, you might want slightly underripe for distance..."

"He might have ammo for that too," Gwen shakes herself back to the here and now "Sorry, got distracted down memory lane." The old her would feel like a bad friend, but she's been working on forgiving her self and reaching out isn't just one one person.

It occurs to Gwen that friendships are two ways. If she hasn't reached out, neither have they. Though, she does have numbers on her phone if she wishes to check in. It

It's summer, after all!

"More symmetrical the better, really... probably wanna run tests to find ideal load weight and then pick the most standards-compliant gourd..."

"I wonder what the mystery prize is this year." Art muses.

The sauce is set aside and she reaches for a nearby sketchbook - one of the ones Art gifted her, if he notes the cover.

"Mm?" Flipping to a blank page and scribbling notes while the idea is fresh.

"If you knew, would it be a mystery?" Gwen points out.

"It's more about winning than the stuff."

"Yup, you've definitely been influenced by the Ailil here," Gwen teases Thistle.

Art laughs.

"Hey, the Baron's cool."

Snort. "Imagine if we were Gwyds."

"He is," Gwen does not deny, "And I have seen Troll Gwyds, there's a lot to respect, but man they are uptight. Make ME look relaxed."