After a long respite from disturbance to Orion's ruins, the future of this graveyard of a city had started to appeared almost rosy to East's less than perfumed view of the world. If fate had possessed an inkling of mercy, the rubble might have remained unshaken and the cave silent as it almost always had been since the moment he'd shrugged off shards of chrysalis and stepped into cruel, uncaring reality. As it turned out, the lady in question had a sick sense of humor, and very familiar thumping bass combined with metallic screeches roused him out of slumber upon a crumbling stone spire.

It appeared the arrival of trouble was going to be a fairly common occurrence in this new chapter of his life, whether through invisible narrator or devious hosts causing a racket. At least when he finally deigned to wing over to the arena and obtain a read on the situation there, no obvious signs of blood sport had made a grisly return yet. Against better judgment and a well-remembered hangover, though, a few shots of alcohol were thrown back in preparation for the worst to come, and naturally the growing fuzziness at the edges of perception convinced a usually more rational mind into ill-advised action.

"Hey, fashion show," East called out as he alighted in the stands near a fox-imp attendant. Tipsy, he swaggered toward them, somewhat unsteady steps scuffing talons over stone. "Mind lending me a Lesser out of that bottomless pit you call a hat?"

If these games slipped sideways into murder trials, at least he might be able to smuggle one of the creatures casually distributed out to safety. Otherwise, if the innocent veneer present stayed unblemished and truthful, there wasn't any problem in playing along with the crowd for now.