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"Most everyone does in this suit," Zoe said with a slight smile. "But I can't say most of them look like yours." Her own is like this, and out of sight under her skirt. It's amazing the number of Spades - and former Spades - who think she's unarmed, because of where she came from.

"It does seem like they're more...basic? Which seems kind of weird, if you ask me."

Because, hello, you live in a castle. "Bit of a lost opportunity, there."

"If it's for use, it doesn't need to be fancy," Zoe pointed out. "Most of the work goes into the blade, since that's the business end."

"Tru-ue," she says, slowly, folding her knife back in on itself to put the blade away. "Just don't see how one precludes the other."

Of course, she'd already begun to notice that, around here, despite the castles, people didn't really carry around weapons here in the way they do where she's come from. There it's more about the display, after all, even if it's also something perfectly functional.

Here...she suspects it's far more function than form. She hasn't decided how she feels about that yet.

"Careful. You might hurt yourself with that."

Sage laughs at that and rolls her eyes slightly, "don't worry, I've had plenty of practice."

She'd been helping her father make them for years now. This one was half-hers in that sense.

"But if it's making you uncomfortable, I suppose I can put it away."

"It doesn't bother me." It was a useful tool in the right hands and it wasn't a waste of oxygen, which was a lot more than he could say about the person holding it.

"Planning to encounter tribal warfare around the corner, or is that just for sealed envelopes?"

"They have tribal warfare here? That must not have been on the introductory packet..."

If, you know, they actually gave out intro packets. Which they don't. Unfortunately.

"People use facepaint and put their Suit colors on or are you keeping a hidden reservation of Indians around?"

He didn't know there were introductory packets either. To be fair, he doesn't expect the current muppets pretending to be the Spades' Faces to tell him anything about that, considering their open policy towards newcomers.

"Facepaint wouldn't work when there are two colours among four Suits, now, would it?"

"So you paint on the shapes too," she says in a isn't it obvious sort of tone. Keep up here, Christian.

"Or maybe they could style their hair in the shapes," she says, as if this is anything important to consider. "I might have to try a different Suit, then, though," Sage grins and tugs at a lock of her red hair.

"If someone comes at you with a knife, you won't have time to figure out what shape happens to be painted on their forehead." But some piece of driftwood that's casually meandered her way in didn't have the experience to know that, it seems.

"The Hearts are that way. You'll find them to be more likely to share your concerns about facepaint and hair."

"Paint a big target on their chests then, maybe." She says, pointing at his, but not actually coming anywhere close enough to touch him.

And then she'll laugh again, "are you seriously believing I'm serious?"

He didn't necessarily believe it, but a man could hope. And he might have were it someone with a modicum of maturity, who didn't use speech patterns and mannerisms that she had acquired when she was half her age. As it stands, though, there is little hope left for the bulk of the Spades in general.

"Some of us don't need targets to know where to aim." He seemed so calm, so indifferent. The words might have even managed to not come out like a threat.

"Yeah, I've gotten that idea."

So many of these guys took themselves way too seriously. While she realized they weren't 'in character'...that it was just how they were...well. It felt a bit like some of them had stayed in character too long and forgot how to be normal people.

"You all have made it pretty abundantly clear."

Well then, there wasn't much else left to be said. It wasn't as if he'd purposefully set out to make anyone feel as unwelcome as possible. It was just an effect he had on just about everyone.

"You might want to carry something a little less... decorative." The ornamental part of it wouldn't be saving or taking any lives any time soon.

"Why? It can cut just as well as anything else."

Better, really, than some things. She knew how to take care of her knives, after all. "And certainly better than cheap imported crap that only looks badass."

She could point out that the decorative bits, while perfectly pretty, can make an uncomfortable hold, but she doesn't think it's really a conversation she wants to have.

"Are you from the Outposts?" She asks instead.

"There are Outposts?" It's a genuine question. Which probably answers Zoe's.

So she laughs slightly, self-deprecatingly. "Guess that answered that, huh? No, I'm just new in general."

And, like a polite person, she'll hold out her hand, "Sage. Nice to meet you."

"Safety scissors can cut as well, but you don't see us carrying them around." The answer, obviously, was because toys were fairly easy to break. What a real knife lacked in aesthetics was more than adequately compensated by its simple, efficient design.

Her knife though, while pretty, was hardly a toy. Oh sure, if she had to actually use it in a life or death situation, or put it to hard work, he little nubbly bits on the end by the Green Man's face might break off. But the knife itself? Unlikely. The handle was antler and would hold up to quite a bit of abuse, the blade was Damascus steel and would likely hold up to even more. Of course, one wouldn't be fighting with what was essentially a rather lovely pocketknife unless one had no other choice.

"I said as well as anything else," she reminds him, "I wouldn't use safety scissors for anything besides paper or a bit of string. They certainly wouldn't do a good job on fabric, for instance."

"There are. You would have come through them when you arrived," Zoe says before she extends her hand. "Zoe Fox, Six of Spades."

The rank thing won't be confusing at all, really.

She'll get used to it, eventually. But for now she'll shake Zoe's hand and worry about if there were actual protocol you're supposed to follow later. If nothing else, she'll figure that if there were, Zoe would've pointed it out.

"Oh yeah. There's one for each Suit?"

"One...Six?" Zoe asked, raising an eyebrow. "No, everyone starts as a Two or Three, so there can be several of any rank. Except for Faces and the Ace.

"Haven't you gone to one of the Castles yet to enter a Suit?"

Sage laughs, "no, no...I meant Outposts. There just one for each Suit? More? Less?"

And she'll shrug for the second question, "still deciding. Don't suppose there's a grace period, is there?"

"Oh,. Yes, one Outpost per Suit, though things aren't particularly formal out there." At least that was her impression when she was out there for business, she thought.

"I don't think anyone's going to hunt you down," she adds with a shrug. "But you'll have to decide at some point."

"You take the most inane comments seriously and the ones with any substance to them, you brush off with a throwaway line. Perchance is English your second language?" Because, you know, they don't have to converse at all if she's having a few problems with comprehension.

"I'll have to think about it, then. Do you just decide on a whim? Are there interviews? Introductory sessions?"

It would make sense, anyway, if you were about to make a decision that could seriously determine the course of your life in the Deck, that you have some inkling of what you're about to get yourself into.

"How kind of you to ask, but no, I'm afraid it isn't. Would you prefer I speak in the Queen's English, instead? Is that a more impressive dialect? Or I think I can still whip out a few phrases in Latin if that's more pleasing."

So not only do they take themselves too seriously, they seem to be snobs too. Disappointing.

"Not...really?" Zoe said. "Most people join the Suit closest to where they arrived on Deck. Other people look around and talk to other people before making a decision."

No one held your hand while you were making the decision. It wasn't as if it was irreversible, after all. People did switch Suits.

"I'd rather not. That would sound awfully pretentious, don't you think?" And we wouldn't want that in the Spades of all places now, would we? That would be terrible.