Sera took that as a sign to offer up the first of her choices, and she wrapped her hand snugly around Sia's wrist to raise her arm into the air.

"I say Sia should go!" she grinned, even as the girl looked at her in stark surprise. "Her magic's come a long way since she joined up with us, and I think she could hold her own against anyone out there."

A rumble of approval spread through the guild, and Oren grudgingly had to admit Sia was a good choice. Her magical ability was impressive, even if her stamina left something to be desired. But if she ended up in a duel and managed to end it quickly, then there wouldn't be anything to worry about.

"Sia?" Varya prompted. Flighty and scatter-brained as she was, their master didn't force her guild members into anything they didn't want to do.

Sia glanced around and likely saw only encouragement (for the most part - Ilias was still sulking) from her guildmates; she drew herself up to her full height, a small smile twitching at her lips. She was pleased to make it into the running, Oren could tell, as it meant the guild thought well of her talent - the only thing she would accept compliments about.

"I'll do it."

"Great!" Varya chirped, swinging her legs. Green, growing things sprouted from the cracks between the floorboards beneath her feet, filling the air with fragrant, floral aromas. It was evidence of just how excited she was, that tendrils of her magic were seeping into the air, the ground, and taking root. "Who's next?"

Oren got the feeling the whole selection process was something of a game to Varya.

Like he'd thought, Lock and Sky were both nominated. Sky accepted enthusiastically before visibly checking herself. She cleared her throat, put on a winning smile, and gracefully informed the guild that she would be happy to take up Starry Rose's mantle and participate in the tourney. Lock, in contrast, had to be coerced into it by Varya.

"Looooock, please?" she begged, having shifted so that she was sitting on her knees and staring directly into Lock's dispassionate gray eyes. "We need you to make the guild look cool!"

He cocked his head. "Really, Rya?"

She nodded fervently, and another round of flowers bloomed from the various pots of soil Varya placed around the guild's main floor.

"Then that's fine. I'll join."

That left five spots open, and entirely too many people who thought they'd be best to represent the guild.

Oren sighed, slouching against the bar. Sera was busy keeping Cross from violating the single rule she'd set down, as his flirting apparently hadn't gotten him anywhere. Sia, rolling her eyes at their banter, sipped from the drink Sera had given as congratulations. And Gideon and Sage...

The Eriksen siblings sat at the bar with Hawthorne, boxing him in. From the look on Hawthorne's face, he was very much not in agreement with whatever they were saying to him.

Oren sat up slightly, angling himself to better hear their conversation.

"Guys, I'm not—"

"Thorne! You are, too!"

"Sage is right, Hawthorne," Gideon cut in, hooded eyes trained on Hawthorne's pensive face. "You're good enough to stand with Sky and Lock. It's just you who doesn't believe that."

"Because I'm—"

"Only good at defense? We both know that's not true."

"Just let Gids nominate you!" Sage added, her bright eyes sparkling and far too puppyish to ignore in good conscience. "You'll do so, so, so, so well in the tourney, Thorne! I just know it!"

Hawthorne still looked unconvinced, and Oren couldn't understand why. Thorne joined Starry Rose when he was young, with barely a flicker of experience in adventuring. But he was determined, at least as far as the story goes, to get better, to compete with the most powerful members of the guild. And he'd succeeded. Maybe he couldn't take down Lock all on his lonesome, and maybe he was still no better than Cross at one-upping Sky, but he'd improved dramatically.

Oren, for one, trusted Hawthorne with his life.

Not that he'd ever tell him that.

Despite the man in question's protests, Gideon looked about to throw Hawthorne's name into the proverbial hat when Cross exclaimed, "Well, since I can't nominate myself" - with a pointed look at Sera - "then I'm casting my vote for good ol' Rhett!"

You could have heard a pin drop, the floor went so silent.

Rhett, sheepish, rubbed a hand roughly at the back of his neck, his sightless gaze dropping to the floor. Kier, still seated atop Rhett's lap, stiffened. He glowered at Cross, who merely grinned, waving a hand, as if to say your move now.

"Why would Rhett go?" Kier asked. "I'm not going, what would be the point? And he might get hurt!"

"So could everyone else!" Cross countered cheerfully. "Besides, they might go easy on the guy. Blind guys get all the sympathy points, ya know?"

"Cross!"

"Ow— Sera, you better comfort me when you put me in the hospital!"

Rhett sighed. With a gentle smile, he eased Kier to his feet and followed him up, raking his fingers through his hair. He frowned thoughtfully, turning in the direction of Varya, who still sat atop the table, legs still swinging, that same gleeful smile on her lips. That smile brightened as she looked Rhett over, reading his indecision as easily as she read the needs of her plants.

"We need more cool guys, Rhett! It's up to you."

Rhett smiled slightly, amused.

"If you'll have me..."

"Rhetty!"

"I'll be fine, Kier," Rhett assured the green-haired man, patient as could be. He'd had a few years of practice, Oren thought, so it made sense. Somewhat. Oren still couldn't quite grasp how anyone could put up with being the object of Kier's obsession . "I'm... sort of capable of handling myself. It's not like I trip over every pebble and crack in the pavement, right?"

It wasn't that Kier didn't trust Rhett, he was just that possessive. He didn't like to leave his side on the days he wasn't trailing after Waverly. And he was right about one thing — he wouldn't be getting a nomination. Kier's abilities were exceptional, but they were also, well, explosive. Literally. And he didn't have much interest in damage control. If Starry Rose wanted to come out of this with their already less than sterling reputation intact (or, gods forbid, marginally improved), they'd need to put their best foot forward. Which meant Kier would be watching Rhett from the stands rather than from beside him on the field.

So Kier pouted and complained and tried coaxing Rhett into staying with him, until Rhett made a point of saying that joining the tourney party was something he very much wanted to do. That shut Kier right up. Oren raised a brow at that. Kier looked almost apologetic, like he'd realized his stubborn refusal was only hurting Rhett in the end.

"I want to do this," Rhett said again, and Kier slumped against a table, arms crossed but mouth shut. He nodded after a moment and stepped in to lean against Rhett's side, acquiescing.

The rest of the nominations went largely uncontested. Sage thought Waverly would make an excellent (and super cute) addition to the party, and while Waverly wasn't there to accept, Varya approved her regardless. Whoever saw her next would tell her (Kier, probably, whenever his Rhett-sized itch was scratched for the time being), and if she took issue with the nomination she'd be free to pass on it. Not that Oren thought she would; Waverly might've seemed apathetic to most everyone and everything at the best of times, but she'd been raised in this guild — they were her family, and not once had she ever shied away from a chance to help them when they asked her directly for it.

Lock's nomination did cause something of a stir.

"Cross should go," Lock said once the murmurs following Varya's announcement regarding Waverly had died down. Varya tilted her head to look at him, smiling brightly, unconcerned, and Lock's own mouth curled up in response. "The kid's good, so long as he doesn't overdo it."

"His magic's rare, too," Sera mused, drumming her fingers rhythmically atop the bar, the glass she'd been drying forgotten next to her. "Doesn't matter what you are — paladin or sorcerer, if you're up against something that unfamiliar, you're bound to slip up somewhere."

Oren didn't want to slide his gaze away from Sera, didn't want to look at Cross, but the demon was making that incredibly difficult given the frenzied movements of his tail as he practically vibrated in his seat; it thumped, loudly, against the bar with every errant flick, until Sera pulled sharply on a lock of his dark hair and he jackknifed to his feet. The smile he wore could put Hawthorne's to shame, and every ounce of it was directed at Lock.

"See?" he demanded, making a sweeping gesture to include all the guild members he'd failed to charm into nominating him. "This is what I'm talking about! I'm vital to the team! The morale would plummet without me there and you guys know it." Cross smirked, either oblivious to the incredulous stares he was garnering or ignoring them. "Lock gets it."

"...Right." Gideon stood from his place at the bar, hauling an unwilling Hawthorne up with him. "I've got the next nomination, then. Does anyone have a problem with Hawthorne taking part in the tourney?"

As if. Hawthorne was a favorite in and out of the guild. No one would contest him being the fifth member, and even if they did, it'd be a minority vote. And Hawthorne knew that, which was probably why he didn't want to be nominated in the first place. He wasn't the type to show off, and he didn't particularly like attention when it was focused on his skill set alone. He didn't think he was worthy of representing Starry Rose.

Which was absolute bull, in Oren's opinion.

Again, though, he'd die before he told Hawthorne.

Hawthorne flushed at the attention, subtly twisting his arm free of Gideon's grip. "I'm really not..." His nose wrinkled in annoyance, probably guessing that point — tired at it was — wasn't going to get him anywhere. "If I'm going, then Gideon should, too! He's just as capable as I am."

Why Hawthorne thought that would dissuade Gideon from insisting Hawthorne participate in the tourney was anyone's guess. Gideon merely shrugged and tipped his head to Varya. "If that's him genuinely nominating me, then I accept."

Hawthorne opened his mouth for a retort, then just as quickly snapped it shut again, avoiding Gideon's knowing gaze. He scrunched up his face, debating with himself, then slumped back into his seat. "Alright, I'll do my best, then. For the guild," he added, sheepishly scratching at the back of his neck. The gathered Roses cheered their approval (Sage the most audible among them) and a bashful smile bloomed across Hawthorne's face as he ducked his head

Hawthorne's acceptance of his position (reluctantly given) marked the end of Varya's game, and, predictably, she let out a giggle of approval, spreading her arms to either side of her.

"Hehe, we're going to be the best team there! They'll never see us coming!"

"Mostly because we've never been there before?" Sera quipped, an amused curve to her lips.

"We've got the element of surprise!" Varya agreed. "And the tourney is in a month, so we've got plenty of time to prepare! Everyone should work extra hard, okay?"

That said, she hopped to her feet, dropped gracefully to the floor, and proceeded to lead Lock around the guild, introducing him to all the new additions she'd made to her impressive collection of foreign plants while he'd been away on his last job.

And despite the newfound buzz of excitement that permeated the guild's flowery air, at least for one last day, everything seemed normal.