11:05:3013: Mixed Signals
Summary: Klaudea and Lincoln are joined by Ronan for pizza, and Klaudea gets confused about flirting, then embarassed when her confusion is noted and flees.
Date: 3 October, 2013
Related: None
Klaudea Lincoln Ronan 


The Bazaar Blue District, The Ring
Stepping off the lift and into the Blue District is almost like stepping into another world. The senses are assaulted with a complexity of scents, sights, and sounds. Light that abscribes to the same hours as the rest of the Ring glows from insets in the dark metal ceilings. The Bazaar is one of the central hubs of the Blue District — also known as the Entertainment District. There are dozens of shops and emporiums that clutter around the outer edge of the bazaar with stands and kiosks making organized chaos of its center. There are some shops that have been there for generations, including the famous — if not a little infamous — Gregor's Strange Meats. This is the place to find the weird and the bizarre. It is known that the Blue District hosts the impoverish and underworldly inhabitants of the Ring, making it not only the most mystifying but also the most dangerous district on the space station. There are several corridor-like thoroughfares that branch off from the Bazaar, leading deeper into the District
5 November, 3013

Lincoln's original plan was to make pizza, but funds have been low. He's waiting for his tips to clear. Buying Ithaca's groceries and such have taxed him more than he thought they would. He told Klaudea to meet him here for the best Ring pizza, which admittandently isn't the best. He's dressed casual, comfortable, a loose tunic with his necklaces and pants that are tight in just the right places. He worked the day shift, so while he's tired, he has the rest of the night off, thankfully. He's sitting at a booth, leg propped up so his knee is against his chest…and some how he makes that look comfortable. He's looking at his tablet, eyes slowly going over what ever is on it.His hair is stylishly messy, bangs hanging in his eyes.

Klaudea isn't as good as Lincoln at making a stylish appearance. She's braided her damp hair loosely to one side, and, as usual, there is no makeup, except for maybe some tinted lip balm. She's trying a skirt again, with a belted tunic and some sturdy boots that are also pretty good looking, partially because they reach almost to her knees. A smaller version of a messenger bag is strapped across her torso, with one hand resting on it as she navigates her way through the crowd to the place Lincoln mentioned. When she sees him, she smiles, and slides into the booth across from him, pulling the strap over her head and pushing the bag to the inside. "Hey," she says quietly, not wanting to disturb him to much in the middle of whatever he's reading.

Lincoln gladly is disturbed. He looks frustrated at whatever was on his tablet and will give Klaudea a crooked almost relieved smile. "Making mom happy again?" He'll nod to the skirt. "how's it going? Anything new?" He'll tilt his head back to rest against back of the booth and gives her a soft smile.

Klaudea blinks at first when Lincoln mentions her mother, then her mouth rounds in an 'o' as she realizes what he's saying. "No. A friend told me I look good in skirts," she shrugs and sets her forearms on the table in front of her, lacing her fingers loosely. "I'm sorry I'm late. Sir Thalo got a little carried away with our sparring, and we lost track of time. I really needed to take a quick shower before I came. How are you? Something wrong with your tablet?"

Lincoln chuckles and nods, "Shoulder all better now?" He'll not ask from what, she wanted to keep that all hush hush. He'll nod again, "It's fine, no worries. I'd rather you be comfortable and a little late." He'll glance down at the tablet, "It's fine. I'm just tired of these lines. They'r giving me a headache. " He shrugs, swiping it closed.

"Oh, yeah. Sir Thalo doesn't hold back that much in sparring, since the Hostiles won't hold back. It leaves me with bruises and sometimes makes it hard to move for a day or two. Nothing unusual." Klaudea gives another shrug, then a sudden grin breaks out. "In fact, what is unusual is that I'm don't have any specific bruises today. I'm relatively injury free." She glances down to the tablet. "I guess you don't want me to help you go over your lines, then."

Lincoln nods, "Well…that's goof then. A day free from bruising. You deserve that." He'll huff at the tablet, "well…not now. I just want pizza and an ale. It's like…the more it run then, the more pressure there is." He'll force a smile, "Maybe later? What do you like on your pizza again?" They've gone for pizza before, but he's not remembering what he liked.

Modesty isn't a burden that Ronan has ever really known. Tonight, the young Iah knight is dressed all in black. While for some, this might be obscuring, but for Ronan it is quite the opposite. With his milky white skin, the contrast is all the more noticable. The black leather pants might as well be painted on, and the black silk shirt is opened up almost to his navel. Of course, when you live where it's always cold, just about any other environment is warm enough to strip down. He walks past, pausing, for a moment. "He's right, you know." he says to Klaudea, "The Hostiles don't… anything and everything to harm, both physically and psychologically." He looks at the two, then flashes a grin to both, "Hello again…"

Looking at the table, Klaudea reaches across and takes a sugar packet from the little bin on the table, her fingers twisting and fiddling with the packet. "I can understand that. I bet if you look at them long enough, the lines all seem to blur into one big mess and then you can't get any memorizing done. Whatever you want, it changes daily," she adds. Ronan's interjection brings a good natured smile as she looks up. "Oh, I don't disagree with him at all, Sir Ronan," she replies. "Although I admit there are days when I wonder if I will survive to fight the Hostiles."

Lincoln smirks to Klaudea, "You have no idea." He'll look up to the noble, Linc's one knee is pulled up to his chest, he's kinda lounging on his side of the booth. "Evening, my lord. How goes?" Linc's hair is fashionably messy and he'll look through his bangs up at the noble.

Ronan laughs, "The best teachers are like that… Hell, when I was thirteen my mother handed me a backpack and a spear and told me that I wasn't to come home until I had killed an ice bear." He grins over at Lincoln, "Oh, you don't have to worry about the lord bit… I'm only 'my lord' when I'm in a formal setting… And things go quite well. Hopefully things are going well for you as well?"

Klaudea chuckles. "Then I think I am very glad there aren't any ice bears in Obsidia, my lord," she observes, not seeming to realize that she's just used the formality that Ronan offered to dispense. "Although, being tough and becoming a knight wasn't exactly my parents' idea. I'm sure they'd be happy enough stashing me away in a cubicle somewhere answering phones or some such," she shrugs with a self deprecating smile. "They certainly weren't going to try and entice ties with a minor minor minor vassal on my looks."

Lincoln doesn't add to the topic, anything he'd say about when he was 13 would most likely just upset Klaudea. "Wanna join us for pizza then, Ronan? It's mediocre at best, and I'm considering a new game of throwing things at Klaudea." Even as he says this a sugar packet is tossed at her.

Ronan grins at Klaudea, "Well, I could always invite you and Sir Thalo to come to Niveus for training… I certainly wouldn't want you to feel like you have missed out on anything." He looks over at Lincoln and smiles at the lack of title, "Sure you don't mind? I would hate to interrupt anything…"

<FS3> Klaudea rolls Athletics: Great Success.

Klaudea chuckles. "I've heard it's pretty darn cold on Niveus, at least, up where the ice bears are." She drops the sugar packet she was stangling, and her hand comes up to catch the packet Lincoln threw, twisting it, and then flicking it back from between two fingers. Due to the rather casual return, it doesn't have any great accuracy, but it is headed back over the table in the other direction. "Although, I imagine Sir Thalo doesn't often pass up a challenge… if he thinks I can learn something from it."

Lincoln shrugs, motioning Ronan can sit on either side of the table, "Nope. Just pizza." he will scoot his foot an inch closer to his rump, as if that will make more room for the noble to sit, if he chooses. He snorts at Klaudea's catch and throw, his hand going up, but there's no need for deflection, "See that? Training. I'm gonna tell Sir Thalo." He doesn't move to throw another packet, but there's one in his hand and he's smirking. "What's your poison on a pizza, Ronan?"

Ronan takes a chair and turns it around backwards before sliding into it. He grins over at Klaudea, "Oh, you have so obviously never visited my delightful home… It's not a matter of where the ice bears are… it's all cold… That's why we have to be creative to get warmed up… " He waggles his eyebrows just slightly. He shrugs slightly, "Whatever… pizza isn't really something that I really eat often…"

In case Ronan hasn't noticed, yet, Klaudea blushes easily, so she tries to hide it by raising her eyebrows to Lincoln. "I was going easy on you, but if you would like to add 'throw things at Lincoln' to the game, I would be happy to oblige," she informs, the dropped packet being picked up again and smoothed into a proper launching shape.

Lincoln looks to Ronan, now amused, "How do you survive?" He'll straighten up , lifting a hand to get the attention of wait staffer. "Large with the works, and a pitcher." the hand that was up goes down to point at Klaudea teasingly, "I was helping you, young squire. You never know when sugar may attack." The line is delivered with an honesty, except there's a twinkle in his eye.

Ronan grins over at Lincoln, "Oh, there are lots of other things that I find to fulfill my cravings…" His eyes linger on the other man for a moment, before he leans back a bit, looking at Klaudea, "So how is it that you found yourself to be a squire if it was not planned?"

"I have a feeling that now you are /helping/ me by toughening up my digestion," Klaudea returns after Lincoln orders, although she grins with the words. "With help like yours, I don't need enemies." She shakes the packet threateningly, then she lets it fly at Lincoln when Ronan asks his question. "My family is in manufacturing, so knights aren't really the expected path. Something more along the lines of business or management would be expected." She folds her hands back on the table and lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "I chose it. A cousin of my father's is one of the," she pauses and winces. "/Was/ one of the few who chose to pursue knighthood. He was visiting around my thirteenth birthday, and we had some long discussions, and he took me on as his squire."

Lincoln has no problem eyeballing Ronan back. He's not at work, he can now. He'll grin, leaning back some into the booth. He'll laugh at Klaudea and lets the sugar packet strike him. He'll gasp, both hands going to his chest, "Gods, woman! Be careful with those! You could put my eye out!" He's teasing and will glance over as a pitcher of ale is set in the middle of the table, "Thankfully, ale cures most woes." He'll reach for one of the 3 mugs thats set next to the pitcher.

Ronan watches the two play with each other. He arches a brow, "Um… you sure I'm not interrupting anything?"

"Positive," Klaudea replies, pulling forward a mug and reaching to try and grab the pitcher before Lincoln. "Notice he wasn't worried about putting /my/ eye out with a sugar packet. It's okay for squires to have scars from sugar packets, but actors have to protect their pretty faces."

Awh…She called him an actor and not a whore. BFF! "You may be witness to her stealing the ale, Ronan. So unknightly. Not the actions of a Squire! Sir Wall would be disappointed!" He'll make a grab, but lets her have it first. Shaking his head, Linc turns to Ronan and smiles, ignoring the theft for the moment, "So…what are you doing out here tonight? I mean, not that your home doesn't sound cozy with all the fun ways to stay warm and all."

Ronan looks positively aghast. "Speak for yourself, Squire. This knight is too pretty for scars, from sugar packets or otherwise." He grins slightly, as he primps his hair. He chuckles, "Besides, aren't Khournas knights suppose to be all scarred up… Their scars are the roadmaps of their conquests or something like that?" He looks over at Lincoln with a slight shoulder roll, "I was told to take some R&R and stay off of patrol for a few days."

"I'm just making sure that Sir Ronan is served first," Klaudea claims loftily as she pours the ale into the third mug and pushes it towards the noble in their midst. "It's called proper manners, and boys can't be counted on to practice them." She then reaches across to pour Lincoln's mug, her grip on the pitcher steady, even with her arm extended. Finally she fills her own mug, and sets the pitcher down so she can take a sip. "I don't know about that. You'd have to catch them without their armor and asleep to scar up their faces."

Lincoln points to Ronan in agreement, too pretty. No scars. "R&R, huh? Any plans, or just roaming and pizza?" He'll watch the knight a moment before turing back to Klaudea and laughing, "Oh…nice save." He'll wrinkle his nose, "I have to have proper manners all the time. My days off i wanna eat with the wrong fork, I will." His lips quirk and he'll cough politely as Klaudia talks of catching knights without armor and asleep. It's just too easy. Instead he'll take a sip of his ale and look to Ronan.

Ronan grins, "Oh, I don't know. There are a couple of the Khournas knights that playing connect the dots could be rather fun… As far as manners, well, technically I might be the higher of station, but I'm not playing all noble right now. But thank you… Your attention to tradition is appreciated." Ronan shrugs slightly, "Well, I haven't made any specific plans… Well beyond trying to stay warm."

"Well, my lord, you've come the right place to do that," Klaudea mentions, jerking her head in a vague direction of the Blue Nirvana. It's an innuendo that blurts out before she can rein it in, and her face turns beet red as she realizes she's just insinuated something to do with sex, and not so accidentally this time. She pulls her lips into her mouth and glances at the wall away from the two men, before she buries her face in her mug taking a long sip. "So, how long do you think it will take for that pizza?"

Lincoln blinks, Klaudea has now lost any rights to complain about anything Linc say…ever. He'll look over to Ronan and then back to Klaudea, "Well, I'm sure the pizza will get here way before Ronan would have time to get back from the Blue Nirvana , so that may have to be an after dinner activity." Linc will give Klaudea a moment to die and turns towards the Noble, "And if that's not to your tastes, I know there a few good new Halo vids out. If you like horror, I just saw System War Z, Zombie outbreak. Pretty crackerjack."

Ronan grins over at Lincoln, "Not unless the pizza is being made in Landing and even then, it might be cold by the time I got to it." He slowly drags his teeth over his lower lip, "But that being said, I have never had to buy someone's attention before… " he pauses, sitting back, "By the Maiden, tell me that my charms are not so quickly fading."

Klaudea takes the opportunity that Lincoln gives her to die to thunk forehead first on the table. She's not that dumb, and when Ronan seems to worry that his charms might be fading, she groans.

Lincoln laughs, ignoring Klaudea's head butt to the table. poor table. Linc finally pulls his leg down, leaning forward some towards Ronan, "It's not a question of buying someone's attention. It's about quality." And that's all he'll say about that. He's not working tonight, why should he pimp the place to Ronan's if Linc's not going to be a possibility? He'll laugh softly, not taking his eyes from Ronan, "You're charms are fine. Although perhaps mine are the ones fading."

Ronan looks at Klaudea, "This would be the point that you should have so 'Oh, no, Ronan… you are absolutely charming and handsome and it could never fade'" he chuckles. His bright green eyes looks over at Lincoln. "Nah.. not fading… I think you're just used to being more direct and not dancing the intricate steps of flirtation."

It's Lincoln's words the bring Klaudea's head up. "What? Why in the world would you think your charms are fading?" she asks, her brows drawing together, her cheeks having managed to come down to a pinkish hue. "That's crazy talk."

Lincoln blinks, and the sighs. He actually thinks it's the opposite, he's being too subtle, but either way. A small flirtatious smile to Ronan, "Then perhaps I need to dance more? A better instructor." He'll turn to give Klaudea a look that clearly is asking if she hit her head too hard, "I'm not at work. No manners. No charm." He'll reach over and throw another sugar packet at her. It's that or reaching over and shaking her, and that just wouldn't be polite. And then luckily the pizza arrives!

Klaudea must have hit her head. "Why do you need to be at work have manners or charm?" This time she idly bats at the sugar packet, instead of trying to actually catch it. She shakes her head. "I think you're just fine, but hey, what do I know?" She takes a piece of the pizza and mutters, "men" as she lifts it to her mouth for a bite.

Ronan reaches over and takes his mug up. He smirks right before he takes a sip, "Well, I wouldn't say _no_ charm." He smirks slightly, "I'm a lousy instructor, it's why I don't have a squire yet." The grin stretches a little more with a slight devious hue, "So I might have to repeat myself over and over again… drilling it until one gets it."

Lincoln doesn't answer Klaudea, he may actually shake her if he did. He'll just shake his head and turn back to Ronan, "Well, it's good to know I'm not a hopeless case." He'll reach for his own slice after Klaudea does, "I'm a slow learner. It may be good for both of us then. Repetition is a valid learning tool, right?" It's how he passed most of his classes, anyway. He'll smirk over his pizza at Ronan before taking a bite.

Klaudea chews her bite of pizza and looks between the two men. "Are you two sure /I'm/ not interrupting anything?" she asks, raising an eyebrow before she takes another bite of pizza.

Ronan grins over at Klaudea, "Interrupting, no… " Like before, the devil is in his smile. "There are many dances that have more than just two dancers… " He pauses, "But unfortunately, etiquette would require me having a conversation with your knight for that… which my plans for this evening certainly does not include politics." He reaches and grabs a slice of pizza. He looks at the carbs, the fat, the grease, and briefly imagines the exercise necessary to apologize to his body for it. He then looks over at Lincoln, "Sometimes doing something over and over again is the best way to perfect something… It has been said that I can be a very slow…" he pauses, "learner… I prefer to think of it as dedication to mastering everything I do."

Lincoln looks over to Klaudea as Ronan explains. He's unsure if he's smirking too much or not, but it is funny. he chews the food in his mouth, nodding his head to Ronan, "Well…practice does make perfect. Isn't that what knights strive for?"

Klaudea just /looks/ at Ronan when he jokes about having a conversation with her knight. The devil is in his smile, but the devil has also gotten the best of her again. She ducks her head and sets her slice on a plate, seeming to have a bit of a problem getting the current bite to go down as she swallows and reaches for her bag. "I'm not a knight, yet, so I guess I wouldn't know," she says quietly, pulling the strap over her shoulder. "It was a pleasure seeing you again, Sir Ronan. I hope you enjoy your relaxation," she settles the bag, her hand resting on it, and looks at Lincoln, but then she can't say anything to that damned smirk, so she just turns and makes her way out.

Ronan stands up and moves to intercept Klaudea's quick departure. "Young Mistress Klaudea." His demeanor and vocal pattern shifts to a painfully proper one, "If I have offended you, in my jest, I do apologize. I meant no insult."

Lincoln looks up as Klaudea leaves and sighs. He'll start to stand, but Ronan beats him to it, so instead, he watch the two., his jaw slightly tight.

Klaudea pauses, as it would be rude to run over a knight, and she can't continue as long as he blocks her way. She sqaures her shoulders and gives a shake of her head, which she lifts but can't quite meet his eyes. "It is of no import, Sir Ronan. I am just," she pauses and bites at her lip as she considers, "not like some other squires I know," she glances over to the table. "Just a bit outnumbered tonight."

Ronan takes a step back. "Then I resend my comments. I will strive henceforth to maintain a more proper decorum." He offers her a respectfully deep bow, but not to the point of being overdone.

While Ronan apologizes, Linc sighs in frustration, he didn't do anything wrong. "Klaudea, no one thinks you're like that douchewad, I swear." He's not going to apologize for flirting though, damn it!

Klaudea shifts uncomfortably at Ronan's formality. She knows something's wrong but she can't put a finger on it. She looks up at the knight, "I'm sor-" she starts to say, although she's not quite sure what for, then Lincoln has his little outburst, and she /knows/ something is wrong, but she still doesn't know what. "I'm sorry!" she burst out at him. "I don't know what you- " Then she shakes her head and turns more quickly this time, her head down as she plows her way out the door.

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