The journey to finishing the Flag had been a challenging one:

Looking back she couldn't quite understand what had motivated her, to act so boldly, to be so...

"Mrs. Waynecock?" May said, composed, of course, she was a Lady, "I think...I need your help."

Mrs. Waynecock lived in a small house within town, a cute dog, walls filled with pictures, mostly of her with an incredibly handsome man - a military man. Her husband, now passed.

"May, come in dear. You're just in time for tea."

"Thank you." May said, hardly glancing at the antique furniture, tasteful but worn. Oatmeal carpeting and a grandfather clock as Ilene Waynecock invited her to the cozy seating area.

Mrs. Waynecock was a gem, a woman of stature that May had come to rely upon - her ability to both allow and occlude, to offer tea and a listening ear, wisdom and companionship. Mentorship - she both played the game and was too good to care who won, for her it was all just life now.

Maturity and Wisdom with age and hardship - perhaps?

"It's just chilling to imagine, of course there's the necessity of discretion."

They both sipped.

"And I must say your wisdom in such matters continues to impress me, when you first proposed the idea I never imagined..."

"It's the oldest profession, dear. An honorable one if done tastefully. And necessary. It was going to happen regardless and when you are dealing with nature?"

"It's best to be prepared."

They sipped.

"It's certainly gone well, no injuries or pregnancies. No disease. We'll have to come up with a way to inform you, though, do you want a runner."

"Contracts." May said, "You can use them like a call, when you hear the marble splash?"

"Your market wares - of course nothing there goes for a marble." Ilene paused, "What a lovely idea. Yes, that would work."

"The other girls?"

"Oh, they're all contracted for privacy, and with your Ability? If it can truly do that much? But Hunter implemented our plan even better than we designed it, it's private and clean while still offering safety, hidden bell pull alarms to contact security, the works."

"You did all the true work."

"Perhaps, but it was your wealth and network that made it possible, without a proper Madam handling the business side...I've seen things break down quickly."

May frowned at the term - she preferred subtlety, of course, and she didn't consider herself a Madam...even if it was profitable.

Women's Work.

But of course May didn't consider herself a hooker - as well. But this was Hickory. Certainly it was different, certainly...

Was it dishonest? For them both to be...satisfied this way? Was her plan even possible, was it - risking it all? She thought about all that, but it didn't stop her when it came time...

May heard the marble drop, excused herself -

Putting on a loose hood, a bright red with bare fur trim, a shade garment to quickly move through town, that let her bright blond hair hang down over her face. She reversed it around the corner and it was a blue half cowl, she pushed her fiery red curls out of her eyes -

Fashionable. Perhaps it was an ability, both Gage and Chase seemed to imply it was, in their attempts to pry out her secrets - they didn't have a chance. It wasn't perfect, but it was getting stronger, she was able to change more about herself, even without a mirror -

And with makeup? She'd been taught by the best, Rhonda. Or Randy, when he wasn't on the clock - she didn't need to put it on, but it let her practice, ways to change how she looked -

By the time May was at the Casino, Hickory was only on his second drink - and certainly he wasn't alone, not completely, but -

"And just aren't you handsome." May pouted, sitting down next to Hickory at the bar, a low cut dress, raven black hair, tanned skin that was almost olive, a beauty mark. She watched his shoulders widen as he spun to her - looked, always the eyes first, every time.

Then her finger. Then -

"Now I'll be pleased to get you a drink for sipping and if I could talk you into blowing on some dice it just might be a lucky night."

Jackpot.

Within the heavy stone walls, the founding members gather. Each wise and respected, these arbiters of knowledge, these cartographers of calamity, these Dungeonists of Devilry -

"Are we going to attempt necromancy? Warlockery? Isn't that too far, until we know -"

"No, Mage. I'm trying to set the mood. Raised hoods. Torch light."

"I prefer the fireflies, especially if we're going to keep the doors closed. The carbon monoxide and fumes-"

"The regen far surpasses the minute amount, and if you unlocked a powe-."

"Don't worry about my power, everybody knows later powers are greater powers, it's the rule -"

"Chill."

"Alright, Bro -"

The Order of Secrets meet - within the deepest room, a table waits where they gather, round and rock, they sit. Equal in respect, but each specialists, each chosen for what branching paths of this wide world they seek to unlock.

Charged individually and formerly, appointed to the task of uncovering the mysteries of magic. The secrets of skills. The Providence of Power and the Font of Knowledge. Or knowledge of the Font, what sounds better?

"Are we going to do this every time, because -"

"Just once a month! We already voted, once a month will be a ceremonial meeting, then we'll be less formal for regular meetings."

"Then why are we doing it in the middle of the month."

"Because it's the first official - you have to start with a ceremonial meeting. This isn't Costco, you don't just show up and flash a card, we're building something here. Culture is important."

"You shouldn't complain, it's not like you ever DM."

"This isn't role playing, it's real life."

"Are you fucking serious? We are wearing robes, we unlocked a fucking Order. A Royal Fucking Order! We were charged with a task by the Reigning Monarch of a Province! Real life is role playing! These things matter -"

"Uh, guys."

"No, no, I am speaking. It was me who told him we like fishing for secrets, I'm having my say. I earned this. Its important that we enmesh ourselves, for whatever reason this worlds system -"

"Don't say it out loud."

"No, I'm saying it! If we can't say it here, in the fucking Order of Secrets we can't say it anywhere. There is a Game System running this whole fucking thing, there are stats, there are...spells, hearthstones - God, that was such an overpriced game, they just reeled me in."

"But it was so much fun!"

"Guys."

"Girls?"

"It was fun, and the animations! Incredible, I preferred it over Magic -"

"Vote to evict Druid for Sacrilidge -"

"This is important, I'm saying we need to have clarity, that we have to figure this system out, it's important that we are realistic here and keep -"

"Guys. The book is recording this."

"What?"

"Yeah, it's recording it like minutes from a meeting."

"But I wasn't ready to start. I was - can you erase it? Strike! Strike this meeting from the record!"

"Delete!"

"This can't be happening. This is going to be our first official meeting? All that is going in there?"

"Nobody is going to take us seriously."

"Guys, it's still recording-"

"Just say Secretiers."

"It sounds...I don't know -"

"Girly -"

"Guys, the book."

"It's too late. We'll just restrict it to senior members, I mean, who are we even going to allow to be a member that wouldn't believe that Magic is superior to Hearthstone?"

"Let's just start over, but condensed."

May found herself having fun, doing things - things she'd never dreamed of doing. She drank for the first time in her life.

Alcohol.

Sipping on the sweet drink that tasted like blackberries from a hay straw, a wild strawberry spitted over it. The casino was just an old complex, mostly abandoned, before, it had been an antique shop, a place that sold sandwiches, a florist, and a donut shop.

All of that had been scooped out like a pumpkin , walls busted down. Overhead there had been apartments that were converted, now they were clean rooms, rented briefly -

She'd decorated the casino. Pinned fabric instead of wallpaper, the flooring all removed to be a smooth matching concrete that had been polished with iron brushes to give it a dark sheen -

And of course the gaming tables were superb, pulled from the former Indian Casino, which was now being used as housing for the Tribe, the tables were luxurious and delightful, full of bright numbers and plush felt.

Hickory loved the craps table the most, loved rolling the dice, putting his chips on the numbers, betting on himself, against himself, closing his eye and tossing chips, letting them land where they did.

He also loved it when 'Veronica' blew on his dice, he cupped them in his hand and held it up to her, she pursed her lips leaning over them -

The stakes were high, when he won he kept betting, kept laying the chips out, and it was with dismay, May realized that over a thousand marbles were spread out in bets, from what had only been minutes.

She kissed the warm roughness of his skin, blowing across his palm - he winked at her - a way that said he'd already won, he tossed the dice where they bounced off a rubbered wall, one die kicking back, clanging, knocking a stack of chips over, the other - One.

The spinning red dice crawled across the board, then lazily rolled to a stop. Two.

Craps -

"Ah, shucks." Hickory said, then turned to her as though it hadn't even happened, knocked back the rest of his whiskey and held his arm out - he headed to the bar, headed to refill their glasses.

May's hands were filled with chips, bets he'd made for her, she had to remind him to grab the ones he left on the shelf under the table, he just waved them off, a tip -

One hundred marbles? Two hundred? She looked down at her hands - certainly, that was enough?

She tugged at him, pulling at his arm, away from the room that housed the bar and instead toward one of the sets of stairs. He looked at them, back at her - a surprised expression, and then.

It was a devilish grin, it was...May quivered, feeling already those lips, that wet bit of whiskey that still shined them. She tugged him up the staircase, around the corner, into one of the suites.

The rooms were clean, of course. That was almost as important as the safety, for it not to be a whore house, for it to be an Establishment.

No sounds of debauchery expounded, no loud music, just a soft jazz, whispering brass and woodwinds, the lighting wasn't dim but revealing and relaxing.

And May felt the passion rising within her, that desire that had grown with each second spent next to him, putting her lips against his hand, watching him, feeling that straw spurt the fruity liquor across her palette.

She felt like a ripe strawberry, filled with the juicy sweetness she wanted to stain his lips with. She closed the door, turned to him and enjoyed his look of disbelief, his face an open invitation of wonder and wishfulness.

He was silent, breathing. The cheers of the gambling, the flirty banter and fiery excitement now replaced with a smoldering anticipation. May swayed to him, pushing him back onto the bed like tossing a log on the fire.

"And this is just why I never moan over losing, that them odds always even out in my favor." Hickory whispered as May felt for her winnings, that heavy stack of chips in his pocket -

"Do you want to bet on that?" May offered, using her teeth to tease, to fascinate.

"I want to go all in." Hickory said.

And of course that was impossible. May couldn't risk him breaking the bank, and with even with how big of a tipper he was?

They were still having a meeting. All wearing matching outfits, a long dark robe with hoods pulled over their head -

"Put your hood on, you're the only one -"

Here within the Hall they would experiment, unlock first the secrets of their book. Their Level One Hold. The first structure of its type. Currently it provided a map of the building. Lists who was within it. Offered basic furniture options for decorating.

It shows a list of formal members and bylaws, an oath taken - and most importantly -

"What portion of the time do we have to actually fish for the secrets, is it metaphorical? Certainly it's idiomatic, he doesn't intend us to spend all our time fishing."

"Have you met him? I think he does."

"I'm thinking...that as long as we focus efforts on efficiency it goes into the spirit of fishing, isn't that just as important? Research on fishing. Of course, fishing, but...that would be the junior members -"

"Or even paid employees, I mean, we have a coffer listed in the book, he said he'd appoint us funding, it's a blank check."

"Certainly, and likely a treasury once we upgrade the structure, I mean, the overlay aspect is certainly civ, but if we apply the fundamentals we could unlock, well - it's a Hall so Member Quarters? Maybe even a guildmaster office?"

"Certainly. The Hearths though, I think they will be different, this draws directly from the Font, we get an allotment of points based on the upkeep of the structure for the furniture and basics so...if the Hearth uses the same?"

"So the marbles are like batteries then? They recharge? Is that what our working theory is?"

"Holy fuck."

"That would...change everything. That's why there's no power source."

"You don't really -"

"They're mirror systems, we've already determined that it's mirror systems! There's alternates for everything. Fireflies, even people don't starve if they drink from the Font, they just debuf-"

"I'm changing my name to Artifice."

"Damn it!"

"I thought we decided that it was photosynthetic absorption?"

"It doesn't matter what it is, what matters is that it's a benevolent system."

"No. That has never happened. Never."

"Because you are fiction fags."

"Rogue! Those bumpkins are rubbing off on you."

"One of those bumpkins is our liege. And I'm pretty sure they aren't even phobes, you know? Nobody wears that much flannel except -"

"Just stop talking like this is a chan board."

"No, that's the point! That's exactly how we have to talk. We have to leave no stone unturned! What I wouldn't give for a team of autists -"

"What do you think we are?"

"What?"

"You're parents never told you, that explains -"

"No, don't change the subject because you can't debate. Fiction demands a hostile system! This isn't, this is real life."

"Real life doesn't have stats."

"It does now, that's the difference. That's what's holding us back from development is that we don't believe. It's why the idiots are -"

"Your Liege -"

"My liege isn't so easily offended. He made an Order for us because he knows we're smarter then him. He's going to fund us, spoil us. Weston gave us marbles but Hickory is giving us resources, he's giving us everything. And he doesn't care if I call him an idiot if I also give results -"

"Then-"

"I'm not an idiot, no, I'm not saying it to his face. The point is that they aren't thinking about things rationally. We are, we don't believe it should work this way because in our rational minds it's impossible, we're holding ourselves back."

"So you're saying to drink the Kool-Aid?"

"Yes! That's exactly what I'm saying, I'm saying we have to drink it."

"You know where that came from? Not a benevolent system - also real life, you just -"

"Holy shit - We just got a quest!"

"WHAT! Why does it say!?"

"Damn it, uh - Quest One - "

"There's more than one!"

"Who's shitting in my river?

Reward: 50 Points per offender identified."

"No! I told you this -"

"Quest Two:

I'm almost out -"

"He's using us to make toilet paper!"

"Reward - 200 Points."

"It's obviously how we level the Order, but -"

"Quest Three - Why is the river going down so much?

Reward - 500 Points."

"The river's down? I didn't notice -"

"Damn it, these are the stupidest quests!"

May's plan had gone perfectly, her life had become one balanced, loved. By day she was a flurry of organization, of creativity, channeling her passion into her work, the town, and by night?

She navigated the casino, if Hickory was there, so was she. Intercepting, encountering - making sure no woman got close, she was -

He filled her as she tasted this wild life, one of gambling and grappling - and if that wasn't enough, that in the throes of their interactions, their mad escape from reality and into that small room filled with nothing but passion -

Where she could be anybody she wanted to to be? Where she could be herself?

She heard him, panting, rather she went by Veronica, or Sugar, or -

"Oh, May." Hickory whispered.

It was her - he fantasized about. She'd tested it, no matter how beautiful the woman she became, no matter how wide chested, or exotic - any nationality, any style, any flavor or accent -

He always bit back her name.

He still thought of her! He was just using the hookers to fulfill his fantasy of her! All her fears had been misplaced, her worry that he was straying, moving on -

"Is that what you want to call me? You want me to be your May?" May pouted, turning down the lights again - that he was just a man. Filled with needs, with desires - that this way they were both -

"I don't mind calling you Veronica." Hickory said, "If that's what you like."

And that's when May realized he'd known. That he'd always known. That she'd never felt so exposed in her life, so -

She wasn't a whore -

She was charging him for sex, for - and he paid it! Knowing! How could he do that!

The blush, the shame she felt! And for him to look at her still with - the same...

That was when May saw him - when she finished the flag, not right then, but when she got home and realized -

He didn't know. He didn't know he was her only client. He didn't ask her, or -

His flag. Her. For him.

She'd...have to talk with Weston, have to - he knew. Of course. they all knew - it was...complicated.

She was - in love with Hickory? Starting to be, perhaps, that it started with, had been - Lust. That was her Passion!

It was lust -

What did she do, did she -

Then Hickory had stopped coming to her. Suddenly - and May finally understood, just what she'd passed up, just what she'd missed out on.

Because there was a Lady in Hickory's life. and May had realized that the love she'd given him. That what he came to her for? For her it had been so satisfying, for her it had been enough -

It hadn't been what he needed, what he'd been asking for, what he sought. He needed to love another, to care for them. He had that, now. He had -

Tackle.

And it was horrible! Awful, the most - to watch him treat a horse - better then any person could ever expect to be treated! How happy they made each other?

That was when May regretted what she'd done, that was when she felt like a whore.