08.20.3013: An Unofficial Date
Summary: Carys runs into Edward and makes him take her out to lunch in order to discuss armor. The conversation takes a bit of a turn and lunch leads to dinner and..
Date: 20 August 2013
Related: None
Carys Edward 


Factory District, Volkan Crescent
There is an ever-present clangor of manufacturing here amidst the factories of Volkan. The buildings themselves and the roads between them are made of ash-colored stone, reflecting the heat and ruddy light of Mount Drakas's crater overhead and the rivers of lava that run through the city in transparent, heat-proofed tubing, providing heat and power to the factories. Almost all of the factories are in full operation, but there are a few scattered around that have been re-purposed for other uses. A dozen stories above, the elevated roadways that connect the towers of Volkan to one another cross through the heated air.
August 20, 3013

The main elevated roadway through the factory district of Volkan is bustling with activity and people making their way. A few rickshaws plow through the crowds that are penned in by high rise railings that necessary so that people don't fall over into the manufactorium below. It is hardly a pretty scene, but it is industrious and efficient. A few workers march their way across the roadway with thick steel girders on their shoulders. On one edge of the roadway is a little makeshift stop with a few vending carts, shops, and tables for travelers to sit and rest. Edward works a few feet above the roadway, suspended by some pullies and straps as he works on the side of one of the many factories, a heavy welder in his hand. The man snaps off his shielded faceplate to wipe at his brow and peer at the roadway below.

Carys rarely gets off days but when she is able to afford a bit of time for herself, she takes in some of the sights. Not that this is anything magnificent or beautiful, but it has its own charm. For a girl who has lived her whole life on the Crescent, there is something comforting about the sound of clanking metal, the sting and acrid scent of metal, and the feeling of sweat beading upon her brow. She walks with purpose clad in dark colors. Swathed in a more form fitting ensemble of leather pants, boots and a long jacket, the only soft and feminine article of clothing she wears is the soft grew blouse underneath. Her sword is sheathed at her side and her dark eyes are always scanning around, looking for trouble or hoping trouble is brewing somewhere. Just as she passes some workers, she catches Edward's face covered in sweat and some grease. "Thane." She hollers and leans back to get a better glance. "Is that you?" With a graceful pivot of a well-trained swordsman, Carys turns and heads towards Edward. "I thought that was you. Coincidence I just happened to see you out of the corner of my eye. You're looking, good." There is a grin that stretches slow across her lips with feline amusement. "I see you're working one of your many laborious jobs. How have you been? I have been meaning to contact you about some armor."

There is plenty of sweat, grease, oil, and grime covering the man's face… so he is a bit surprised when the younger Carys catches sight of him and picks him right out of the line up of workers. Then again he is rather easy to pick out at times. He tugs a bit on the cables and coords that hold him up to the wall and slowly lowers himself down onto the roadway with a whirl of gears. He pulls off the shielded face plate and hooks it to his belt, along with the welder after he snaps the arc light off. "Some armor?" he says with a smile, "So I don't have to give you my speech about blades and guns?" he says, and waggles a wrench at her in a threatening manner, harkening back to their first meeting in a small shop he set up where his first words to her were a rather harsh 'No swords. No blades. And if you have to ask, yes your money isn't good enough.' He twirls the wrench before 'holstering' it on his belt and gives a nod to her, "It is good to see you are doing well, finally making a name for yourself?"

Carys steps back some to give Edward room to settle in. She smiles at the tall man and slips her hands into her pockets. "If you want to give me a speech about blades and guns, please, be my guest. I'm always up for /riveting/ conversation about weaponry. Especially if it's about some new make or model. "I've been Knighted not too long ago. It feels good to finally move up from 'squiredom'." The woman shares her recent news rather proudly with anyone who will hear. Someone shouts out some sort of gruff congratulations from the roadway where Edward was just working. Carys tilts her head up and calls back. "Thank you, my good man!" Back to Edward now, Carys cants her head. "Since my money was not good enough before, perhaps /your/ money is good enough now. How about that speech over dinner and drinks? I won't call it a date, but I'll expect you to open the door for me and pull out my chair. Then we can talk a little about some armor and all the business that's involved with it."

"You are abusing my nature to be a gentleman…" he says as he thumbs one of the many pouches on his belt, "But dinner with you sounds better then a moldy sandwich for lunch…" he says and turns back to shout up to the other workers, telling them to cover his shift and he will pay them all back with the next round of drinks at the local tavern. They let out growls of annoyance as someone aims to pelt a hydrospanner at Edward, as they all know he doesn't drink! Edward dodges the makeshift weapon before using Carys as a shield, which dissuades any other tools being tossed at them. "So. Dinner on me? Sounds good. Could we skip the weapon talk? As riveting as the kill capacity of a Mk2. Headsplitter is…" he says and rolls his eyes as he starts moving down the main roadway, hailing a rickshaw to take the two of them to somewhere where they can get some good food and not workers gruel.

Hands and arms rise up defensively to avoid any wayward tools raining down onto her head. Edward moves Carys so fast, she doesn't have much time to protest except with a "Hey!" of annoyance. Good thing he's buying dinner. Skipping backwards until she turns around to walk beside the armor smith, Carys groans beneath her breath. "Smooth, Edward, smooth. Have you seen my brother Brandon lately?" Brandon is the brother who focused his career on armoring and weaponry. "I haven't really had a chance to catch up with him and I know he's busy. I didn't want to ask him about my equipment because I know he would be too nitpicky and before I know it, I wouldn't get anything that I want. He'd have to make it all about himself." Because Brandon was always like that. "And I can really used a good steak. Been training a lot lately and I can't afford to lose muscle."

"Well you can give a few bits and pieces to me and I can get to work on them… from what I recall your bother did get to involved in some of his projects…" the man says with a shrug as he drops a few coin in the rickshaw driver's hand and tells him to take them to the nearest 'decent' restaurant. The driver gives a nod and with a quick breath is racing down the roadway with his charges in tow in the little two wheel wagon. Edward leans back a bit and wipes the last bit of oil off his face, trying to clean up for this little 'not-date' that he has with Carys. "I imagine you will need a new shield, something with your sigil or mark?" he suggests as he looks over Carys, chuckling a bit at her talking about losing muscle.

The Public House, Volkan Crescent
Tucked into a corner of the commercial district, this dive bar has low ceilings clouded with smoke, a collection of round tables, square booths, and a bar with stools along one wall. It can do greasy pub food, and has a fine selection of beers, whiskeys, and scotches, but not much more than that. The bar stools are the swiveling type that are bolted to the ground so they cannot be used as clubs in the event of a brawl, and the chairs are flimsy things that make poor clubs in their own right. At the back is a shuffleboard table, two pool tables, and a couple of dartboards, often with a good deal of side betting going on.
August 20, 3013

The two talk some shop on the way to the Public House. Carys mentions something about the House sigil but isn't exactly sure just yet. She wants to see what sort of twist she can pull with her new set. They get to the establishment and find an empty booth inside. "You need not worry about your appearance here, Edward. Everyone's a little greasy and sooty. Good place to grab some meat and potatoes, maybe even a mead or cider. I'm not much of a beer drinker. Makes me feel fat."

He grunts a bit as they take their seat, idly fingering the menu before he flips it open. "Fat is better then most things." he says as he glances over the menu, looking over Carys, "Though you're hardly fat." he says. Ah yes the classic Edward form of compliment, flirting, and flattery. 'You're not fat!' The man can be a real charmer at times. "Well… order whatever you want, I imagine this place will clean me out of a month's paycheck…" he says, the sarcasm dripping as he places his own order and looks over to Carys. "But the only reason you would worry about getting fat is if you haven't been doing a good bit of fighting… sitting back and taking it easy then Carys?"

Carys arches a brow over her menu at Edward while he goes on about fat and how some extra is better than not enough. Once she decides on a burger, fries and a decadent milkshake, she props her elbows on the table and gives her companion a scrutinizing look. "I've always been thin. I was, for the longest time the smallest in my family. They used to call me 'Scrappy' until I got a little bit bigger and started using my boney elbows to barrel my way through things. Once my father started to teach me how to use a sword, I relied on those scrappy techniques to get leverage on my opponents. He would laugh at me, I was still smaller than those I was training with and he started calling me /Raffine/, which is a bully swordsman. I would always challenge people to fight me and any reason at all would cause for a duel. I have a total of seven brothers and sisters. If we wanted something bad enough, we had to fight for it." Carys smirks and hands the menu over to the waitress. The woman has her eyes on Edward the whole time. "Um, here you go." With a slight jab to the waitress' arm with the corner of said menu.

Edward raises his hands in defense against the verbal onslaught from Carys as she details her rather vivid history of fighting and surviving, "So you haven't stopped fighting, well then you don't have to worry so much about staying in shape then. Just try and keep your boney elbows away from my vitals, I don't enjoy getting stabbed…" he says with a light smile as the waitress snags Carys's menu with a huff and moves off to put in their order. "And if you're going to be a Raffine you will need some proper armor… I imagine a little more bulk on the arms and legs so you could use those in your fights. Oh, also anyway I can convince you to give up your life of violence and death…?" he asks, giving his token try for pacifism. He never tries to overstay his welcome with his peace loving ways, so Carys likely knows he will give up with only a few words.

Carys rolls her eyes at the waitress but the moment passes and she's back to conversing with her 'dinner date'. "Haha! I promise not to bring my elbow to your junk if you promise not to give me a reason to do so." There's a saucy little wink that accompanies a smirk until it all fades away. "You want to what?" Not sure if his question was really a question or a statement with an inflection at the end. "You want to convince me to give up a life of violence and death? I don't live a life of violence and death; It is honor and valor." Because this sounds much better. "Why pray tell would I do that? You want to make me some little housewife? Some barefoot and pregnant lass in your kitchen, cooking your means, cleaning your dirty clothes?" There's a fire building deep in the pit of her soul. The very thought of this kind of life degrades her and everything she stands for. "Look, I've got no problem if a woman chooses that life for her. We need good mothers to raise good children who will then be awesome adults, but that's not in the cards for me. I'm only twenty-two. I can't be tied down as some wifey and baby making factory, popping out critters every nine months or however it works."

His eyebrows shoot up as now she is talking about housewives, all barefoot and pregnant and popping out babies as they make food! And while Edward loves a good home cooked meal, he is not about to fight sharpened elbows for it. "I oppose all violence Carys, whether it be committed by man or woman. A death enacted by man or woman is equal in my eyes…" he tells her, perhaps hoping to avoid the inevitable argument about the proper place of a woman and female rights, because that is not what he was going for at all! "Oh look our drinks!" he says as the waitress delivers two tall glasses, and Edward makes to hide himself behind his drink of water. "Besides we both know it would take a battalion to tie you down, let alone make you a wife and mother!"

Carys isn't /too/ interested in her milkshake, though damn, that shit looks good. "You are a peacemaker? What else are you since you seem to be a jack of all trades?" She waves her hand at the previous conversation as if wiping it off the board. No one should eat on an angry stomach. This is the opportunity to indulge in that sweet ass milkshake and put Edward on the spot. "Look, I have no problems holding a physical relationship with you. You're an attractive man. You're strong, you work hard, you stand by your ground and are resolute in your beliefs. I admire that in a man - in anyone really. But when you start talking about what I do is wrong and murder, especially when we are being attacked on our land by those fucking Hostiles, I have a problem with it. Please don't tell me that you.." Carys stops herself because she waved the conversation off. It's better not to know if he's a sympathizer or not at this point. The whole meal would be ruined.

"I have little sympathy for the Hostiles… but I still oppose violence. I don't fault you for fighting them, but to often I see knights used as tools to fight other people. And once the Hostiles are gone…" he says and raises a hand, giving a shrug. "The Hostiles might as well be wild, though highly technological animals in my eyes. So even though they still threaten us, I don't make weapons because of how easily those weapons can be turned on our fellow man… or woman…" he says and then sips at his water, "Wait… did you say I was attractive? We should talk more about that…" he says and waves a fork at her before the waitress comes over with their food and he stabs the knife and fork into the food.

Carys listens to the rant go on and yes, it seems Edward did give a speech on weaponry after all. If that's all there is to the great manifesto, then it wasn't /too/ bad. The change of topic is welcomed with a laugh but rather than delve into the conversation, Carys picks up her burger and just dives right into the juicy mass of meat as it drips with grease and fat. Yum. Her milkshake isn't the best thing to wash this down with, so Edward's glass of water is plucked right out from under him. After a few sips, Carys lets out and audible sigh and shoves the glass back at him. "Thanks. Yes, you're attractive. Do you not agree?"

Edward is chowing down on his own burger, watching as Carys devours her food like a hungry Khournas Magma Dog. "Slow down, you might choke. And as much as I would looooove doing the Hemflauchschnauzer Manuever on you…" he starts as his eyes drift down to ogle her in the most blatant and forward way as possible, to drive home his point, "Id hate to see good food to waste and be coughed up." he finishes before he looks down to see his water stolen. He makes a face and motions for the waitress to bring him another glass. "I try not to eye myself up in the mirror to much, I think thats a past time reserved for nobles."

Carys narrows her eyes a bit as the waitress brings over another glass. Once she walks away, the brunette leans in. "I don't have cooties, you know. I've been checked. I'm clean as a whistle. I don't sleep around or..yeah. Are you offended by my lips on your straw?" She might be offended in the assumption behind the motive.

He laughs a bit as she talks about cooties and having been checked out. "You forgot Carys… when I am not welding a factory together, or making sure your armor doesn't fall apart… I'm a doctor. And doctors learn a thing or two about germs. But if it makes you feel better…" he says and snags back his water to wraps his own lips around the straw before he takes a big sip of water. "If my arm falls off from necrotic rot… I'll know who to blame."

Carys grins cheshirely as though she's won this small battle. Her dark eyes skim one of his arms. "Wait, what is..that?" She leans in close enough to slide her hand up and over the muscle until her fingers give him a good pinch. "I did forget you were a doctor. You don't /look/ like any doctor I've ever seen. Most don't have side jobs. They just do, doctorly things." Her fingers grasp at her own straw now and idly turn the thick milkshake a bit. She slowly removes it from the glass and goes about licking the length of it and sucking off all the delicious ice-cream like a kid playing with her food. Sure, it might be considered 'sexual', but that is not why she was doing it. There's nothing really sexy about the way she nearly spills the whole thing all over the place. Smooth isn't always in her repertoire. "What else do you do? So far I'm surprised and impressed. Do you cook and clean as well? I might be looking for a decorator to spruce up my place."

"A rather terrible terrible fate for anyone. Wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy, if I had any alive…" he says with a coy little smile, playing up his dark side just a bit, though there is a sadness to that smile. "Usually comes from cuts and slashes… so next time you get into a scrape… let me know so I can fix you up…" he says as he uses the burger bun to sop up all the grease and delicious juices of his meal before he chows down on the bun. "I don't stay in one place long enough to be a long term doctor… so I make do with everything I can." he says and then goes quiet as Carys puts on her little show of licking that milkshake straw clean… with all the wonderful sexual and non-sexual imagery. "Cook? Now and then. Clean? Don't often have time, so I just do with not making to much of a mess…" he says with a wink.

The meal is finished and the milkshake sucked dry. Carys is a happy camper and lets out a small belch before she laughs in shock. "Sorry. I usually only do that around my siblings. We are very competitive." Her brow rises into a sly little arch. "This has been a lot of fun. I'm so glad you thought of it." A hint of sarcasm coats her words as she teases Edward. "When are we going out again?" Once more, the young woman leans forward onto the table with her elbows propped up. Inquiring minds want to know.

"Tonight." he tells her as the waitress comes with the check which Edward pays without little fuss. "You can bring over the armor you need worked on… we can then go out for a little dinner… then back to my place to take your… measurements… I imagine I will need to update my records to get you properly fitted" he says with little smile as he purses his lips. The man seems amused at the little innuendo he just came up with! "Does that all sounds good to you Sir Morgan?"

Carys glances between Edward and the waitress again, choosing to wait until she leaves before answering. The time gives her a moment to think about things. "All right. I can make myself available. Just don't keep me out -too- late. I have a lot of training to do in the morning." Scooting out of the booth, the newly minted Knight glances back to Edward. "Maybe we can get into a heated debate about why you are a pacifist."

"Don't keep you out to late, and training in the morning… got it…" he says as he fingers his welding mask and tools… he will have to rush this job if he wants to get to dinner on time.. but he has always been good at those rush jobs. "As long as you don't start throwing punches…" he quips back as he opens the door for her before they leave.

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