02.15.3014: Peeling Back the Layers
Summary: In the warmth of Ignis, Luke starts to get beyond Rozlyn's outer shell.
Date: 23 11 2014
Related: Fight Night
Luke Rozlyn 

The Mead House, The Pit, Ignis
The Mead Hall is dark, with low ceilings and veins of soft, luminous orange running along the corners where the walls and the cathedral roof. Circles of the glowing orange march up the roof, linked together like archaic chainmail. Heavy tables of dark wood line the hall in two rows, with benches on both sides. Mead and hearty meals are delivered from the kitchen in the back. A space at the front of the hall is cleared for speaking, contests of skill, and the occasional drunken brawl. Pictures of members of the Ash Legion line the walls, organized by an arcane order known only to the proprietor.
Saturday, February 15th 3014

The Evening has come. It began easily enough with meeting the Lady Rozlyn Orelle at the Ways, and then saw that she was taken to Red House first, and shown everything, including her room should she stay the night. Once the formalities were taken care of and guest right offered, Luke, quickly made way for the Mead Hall.

As far as dates go-this is probably one of the more unusual ones. Still once they break the door the sights and smells of the room overtake the two.

It is warm inside, which is likely, why Luke is dressed casually. trousers that bloom for short scuffed boots, and a hooded tunic with the sleeves pushed up, allowing for some of his tattoos to show. A wave is given to the bar, and two fingers lifted as a silent drink order is given. A turn and the knight now studies the woman with him, clearly watching with intent.

"Pick a table and bench-they fill in a hurry."

As far as dates go, well… Rozlyn won't be putting a name to such. Nobles don't date- not officially, at least. They court, in a strange dance, and hope perhaps the families notice (or don't, in some cases). Still, a visit from a Paramount to a vassal? That's never going to receive a batted eye. In fact, Rozlyn's family is like as not thrilled that she's getting out. Especially with the Issues as of late.

The woman dressed simply, yes, but there's still an understated elegence to it. She wears well-fitted, black trousers that tuck into soft ankle boots, with a light-weight grey blouse over, the fabric and sleeves billowing with movements. Her hair is caught up in a pinned-up braid, leaving the back of her neck bare, save for small wisps that end up free.

A single eyebrow quirks over the Orelle's eyes as she looks sidelong to Luke. She's bemused by the sight of the hall, that much is obvious. Still, where a laugh might surface in another… her mien remains smooth. There's a gesture at a nearby table, "Would that suit? I hear tales of hierarchy in seating in such places."

Indeed, likely news itself has gone throughout the moon, let alone to both heads of houses. All the same, no one here inside the small pub seems to be batting an eye when the nobles come in. Folks are already huddled down into their plates and into their mead. There's laughter, and music playing-giving the place a warm if not noisy feel.

"There's no real hierarchy here, save that Legion members are often served first." Luke states before he is nodding to the long table. And so he reaches his hand out to the small of her back, and seeks to direct her on to said table. She would be on one long bench, and Luke would move around to the other side to sit on the other- a sergeant is nudged out of the way-which gets a back of laughter for the smaller of the men, before the knight simply sits without ceremony. And as luck would have it, two mugs are clamped down onto the table, before the server is headed off in another direction.

"I am glad you came." said finally, almost blurted out, before he is reaching for his drink. "I really am-I know this is likely out of your comfort zone, but I do hope you enjoy it, as I do."

There's a slight stiffening of Rozlyn's back and shoulders at the initial touch. However, it's more that armor she bears… for it only lasts the space of a couple breaths before she relaxes and lets the Knight guide her.

The woman settles into the bench, casting a look around the hall to take it all in. Surely she's heard of the place, but having actually taken a meal there? This would certainly be the first. Dark gaze takes in the glowing veins of orange that provide the low lighting, the various groupings across the long tables. The place at the fore, currently empty of any bravado.

When her attention returns to Luke, it's at the words that he offers; of appreciation. Then, in that moment, there is a small smile from Rozlyn as she extends a hand to grasp at the mug before her. "It is… interesting to see the sort of places a Knight enjoys themselves in."

"It's usually quite entertaining here. Last time, we were having a contest.." Luke says with a glance to where usually the feats of strength are in full swing. A pause as the knight chuckles, and lets his eyes drift down to his cup, of which he takes a conservative sip. "A game-called Roshambo-in which you had one hit to take another down. Each man gets a turn, unless-of course you're knocked cold on your ass." snorting the Lord turns and is making a motion back over to a passing server.

"Does that sound like something you would be interested in, Rozlyn?" a tease there before he is taking time to order two of the daily specials-since it will be likely the easiest thing to make-and give a good taste of what is made here. "What do you think so far of what little you've seen of our small moon?"

The tease earns a strange expression. Initially, yes, those defenses aim to kick in and her lips press into a line. However, after a moment… Rozlyn Orelle laughs. Yes, she well and truly laughs. The mug is lifted and she takes a slow, gauging sip. It takes a moment for her to will the heavy, sweet liquor down her throat.

"I doubt I would be any good at such a game. Sounds like it is meant for those who have only brute force to rely on and shy from tactics." Her own teasing, perhaps? Someone nearby does look a bit askance at the noblewoman.

"There is but one surefire tactic that could win you-that is if you were to kick a man in his-ah.." and Luke screws up his face there, as he sets his drink down. "I guess the best way to say it, is in his balls." A faint frown there before he is laughing. A glance back and his smile shows. "I must say it's good to hear you laugh. A wonderful sound." he adds before he is scratching his chin.

"But yes, to your observation it is a bit more brutish, than some might be used to. But, it's limited to a particular crowd. They also wrestle."

The blunt descriptor catches Rozlyn enough off-guard that she snorts in amusement. Most of the expression and sound is caught by the side of her mug and the noblewoman quickly lifts it for another sip. This one goes down easier; urged forward with that need to cover the brief loss of composure. A second follows at the compliment regarding her laugh; Roz truly has no reply for that.

"Seems almost counter-intuitive," the Orelle begins, setting the mug upon the table, "to most meals. Most prefer a level of relaxation as they eat."

The snort brings a grin, as Luke leans against the table, letting his elbows and arms rest on the warm wood. Eyes watch the noblewoman and he looks down with a small chuckle. "I like seeing this side of you, Roz." And he drops that there, lest he makes her any further uncomfortable. Licking his lips he regards her for a moment, before he is shifting in his seat.

"Well, we like a nice mixture of both on Ignis, apparently." And the knight stretches a hand out. "We're a bit..More relaxed and focused in some areas. I blame the moon. All the fire breeds hot tempers and passionate people."

Teeth flash, briefly, as Rozlyn bites into her lower lip. The compliments have her wholly off-guard and while yes, there's a clear sign of discomfort… there's hints of a smile as well. She likes the challenge it presents, after a fashion. At least when combined with the person presenting it.

"It is quite the contrast to The Ring, to be certain. There, everything is so ordered and sterile. Here…" A glance cast about the Mead Hall once again, "there is a… more natural, chaotic sense in the air."

"There's a very cosmetic beauty about the Ring. Even the slums have order to them and look as what one would expect to see in a holo vid." Luke quips, before he is looking about the room. "I believe that is because our whole sense of life here is rather natural and chaotic. Though our volcanoes are dormant-they are still part of our life and our make up."

And his shoulders slump, not out of depression-but more or less he is relaxed and at ease. His free hand comes back up and ruffles through his hair. "If you like, I can show you them. We will need atmo-suits, but we can climb and look."

"Cosmetic beauty." Rozlyn ponders the words, before finally offering a small smile across the table. "That would certainly describe it. I never quite could put my finger on it. There are times when it does seem as if a set for a holo vid. Painted designs and temporary scaffolding to distract the eyes." Her brow furrows a bit then as she mulls that over. "Perhaps I ought to leave the labs more often…"

The last being primarily to herself, Rozlyn is more than happy for his offer. Dark eyes track his hand as it presses into his hair, soon dropping to those mis-matched eyes. "I would like that. I had a curiousity when I was a small child, but it was deemed too dangerous at the time." One can only imagine the sort of lack of self-preservation Roz may have had as a child.

"I believe The Ring- I don't know. I think that is something that it excels at. It's look, and functionality. I always feel out of place there, but I enjoy it in a way." Luke adds, before he is shaking his head. "I'd say only leave your labs, when and if you want Roz. Personally I know I would enjoy seeing more of you. Though I could do that in your lab as well-if you trust me not to break anything."

"Did you?" brows perk up, before he is grinning again. "Yes-well, they are still dangerous, despite not being currently active. Lava and gasses-the like you know." added as an aside, and then he tilts his head just a moment. "Though I am curious as to why they were deemed so. I was taken around them as a lad..I can only imagine you were -more adventurous?" And there the knight squints before he is leaning back as two steaming plates are set down. Meat sliced then. Mashed tubers and yes, gravy and onions. Perhaps not the best meal for a date.

"I wonder what you imagine my lab to look like," Rozlyn asks, her eyes shining briefly. "I would invite you to visit, but I am afraid of shattering whatever fantasy you have built up regarding them."

The meal, provided, earns a considering gaze. She's not disappointed, no. Merely curious, after a fashion; it's all just gathering data. Learning more about Crowseye. "Ah, perhaps a combination of things. I believe I was five or six? And to hear it told, I was… more curious than mindful. I would put the pursuit of 'what if' before that of my own safety."

Luke grins before he is reaching for his fork and knife. "I can easily elaborate there." the knight states before he is bowing his head briefly in prayer. Silence which may or may not prove to be awkward lasts, before it is broken. A glance up as he is cutting into his food. "I imagine it very sterile, with many micro scopes, computers and assistants, whirling about like bees in a nest."

A bit of meat and everything together he looks up as he chews, pausing to swallow before asking "Close?" and then he is digging back in. "This-somehow doesn't surprise me." meaning of her childhood.

There's that laugh again that he professed to enjoying. Rozlyn's eyes actually sparkle for a moment, her lips quirked in amusement. "Close, I suppose. There are no microscopes and I actually have a small team. You maybe surprised at how calm it can seem on the surface." She lifts her utensils as well, starting in on the meal.

There is a slight shake of the head and a soft snort- more a sudden exhalation of breath. "No, it does not surprise many. The follies of youth combined with the thirst for knowledge. Rare a good combination."

"Was that who I saw you with, when you were coming to the tram stop outside your fine jail?" Luke asks with a quirk of a grin, and around a forkful of food. Apparently here, his etiquette takes a small dive, but hopefully not enough to hurt or hinder. "I might? I always imagined labs to be quite the bustling place."

A nod there as he continues to eat more. "I would say so. It makes for fine adventurers and I dare say Scientists." And so one more bite, before he is reaching for his mead again. "Is that what made you choose the sciences?"

"Ah, one of them was. The others were from different labs. Sometimes our projects cross over, or we request a specialist's thoughts." Rozlyn smirks slightly, chuckling after a moment. "Some labs are. They vary, quite a deal." She's eating at a slow, but steady pace. Nothing to indicate she dislikes the fare or takes issue with it. "You're welcome to visit anytime."

The last is added in a rush of breath, barely above a whisper. It becomes drowned further as the Orelle secures the mug before her, taking a long drink of mead. Rozlyn sets it back down and stares to it as she ponders the question. "I… I wanted to know the unknowable."

"The unknowable." Luke repeats over the rim of his mug. "I had thoughts to join the Chantry for such a reason. But, the Six had other plans." Rather, Zakary Grantham had other plans. "And we would not be having this dinner, had that occurred. So I think for the most part a good fate change." Luke adds before he is taking another sip.

"I would love to. It'll have to be after an expedition I am taking- I promised my friend Lady Doctor, Helena Dalton-that I'd escort her to check on some of their settlements, for medical purposes. I just wanted you to know-and not be alarmed. I see her only as a friend." he adds before carefully taking another bite. Mismatched eyes watching for a reaction.

"The Six never interested me in such a way." She could never see them beyond a fairy tale. "I can… see the distant galaxies and systems, but to know is another matter. We know the existence of so much, but we cannot explain it." Rozlyn draws a slow breath, bringing herself back from that excitable edge. It was beginning to slow; in the pace of her speech, in the widening of eyes.

"I would advise you to be careful, but I-" Rozlyn's brow furrows slightly and she glances up. "I… I would only hold concern for your safety, I thought you…" She falls silent, brow furrowing as she studies the Grantham… uncertain how to proceed.

"Man was made an explorer, and as such it should only make sense that we continue to look into the heavens and wonder what more is there to know-to explore by any and all means." Luke replies before he is taking another bite. His grin hidden through his chewing. Licking his lips he looks back towards Rozlyn and there's a brief nod.

"You thought me what?" he asks as brows quirk up. And now he is setting side fork and knife in favor of a napkin. Wiping his mouth he looks back to her. "Go on?"

"And yet, so many believe we need not look to the stars any longer." Rozlyn sounds a bit saddened about this. "We left one system already and found Haven, so they feel we need not look any longer… But what if this war changes? Or someday, we desire to expand once again?"

The noblewoman is trying to avoid his other questions. She looks to her plate and pushes around the food lightly. Rozlyn has her moments where she appears just a young woman and this is one of them. Her shoulders shift and she's unable to meet the Crows' eyes. "Ah, I… thought you were just informing me so I would not worry in your absence."

"Both." Luke states. "So that you do not think that I am interested in someone else, given rumors of my own past behavior. So that you indeed know I am interested in you, and that I am helping a friend." he states before he is reaching for his drink. "That is all, and likely not nearly as smooth as it should be." Luke comments before ge is starting to eat again.

"One should always look forward. If we become content in what we are, or where we are-then we become complacent and lazy."

The woman is silent for a short time. The lack of entertainment — as it were — occurring at the open expanse before the tables leads Rozlyn to stare to her plate. It's rapidly emptying, as she's been using it as a handy distraction. Rather than answer immediately, she finishes what remains and reaches for her mead instead.

"So…" Her voice shakes and Rozlyn steels herself with a drink of the sweet liquor. It has its uses, to be certain. "You are serious in your attempts to… court." She dares a look up to him, dark eyes taking in his; bright and black as they are. Lips part to continue, but she stalls there. Uncertain how to proceed.

"Yes." Luke responds as he finishes his plate. Where as for Rozlyn, it might have been an easy distraction-for Luke it's his normal tear through meal. And by that it means he wolfs rather than savors. Wiping his mouth again, he's looking over and making a signal for another round of mead. Moderation and all…

"I am serious in my attempt to court-You." and he lets that sit there. "I don't know what your family would think of it, let alone mine. I don't think I've font through proper channels, as much as I have just been happy to see you."

There's a shift in the light blouse Rozlyn wears. Her chest rises and falls a bit more rapidly as her breath quickens. The room seems a bit warm and tight, but there's nowhere to go. Rozlyn, at least, s not the sort to flee. She finishes her own meal, moving the plate aside as she reaches for her mug. The last of the mead is drained as the woman tries to organize her thoughts.

"Luke…" For the most part, he finally has his wish: she doesn't use titles with him. "I… never intended to be wed. That is not to say that my family's wishes would, ah…" Words fail her and she just stares at the empty vessel as she places it before her. "That said, I, well… You see…"

"Never intending, and it never happening are two separate things, Rozlyn. I can tell you honestly, I never intended to wed." Luke replies before he is nodding as another round is placed before them. And there he reaches out for his drink and taking a long sip.

"That said, indeed." he states before looking back to her. "I'm not asking you right now-you know. But that does not mean that I do not want to court you-because clearly I do." a stop there. "More to drink?"

The mug is seen as a welcome thing. The nerves may drive Rozlyn to get past trying mead, to accepting it. Which, while a far cry still from enjoying it… is certainly a step forward. The woman lifts the drink and has a long sip, watching Luke intently. She finally sets it down and her brow furrows.

"It is… Well, Luke. It's an unexpected thing. When you-" she glances about lightly. There's a shift in her mien. No need to discuss certain things so out in the open. Instead, her voice lowers, words directed just to the Knight. "Be patient with me in this."

"I will. Please don't take this as means to…speed things." Luke replies with hopefully a reassuring grin. "I-" and he stops talking in favor of drinking. In the background some loud voices are raising, causing the knight to turn and look as some of the Legionares in the pub head over to the clearing, already jackets are being shed as are tunics. A fain smirk shows on the knight's face before he is looking back.

"It seems, some entertainment seems to be in the works.."

The entertainment is a very welcome distraction. Rozlyn draws in a long breath and gives Luke a small, quick nod. An understanding of his words. She turns in her seat somewhat, placing an elbow on the table to support the mug as she holds it. "How often do you participate?"

Luke stands up with his mead, before he is coming around to sit down next to the Orelle, and subtly lean into her. An arm slinks at the lower of her back, and he with occupied hand continues to drink. A lick of his lips as he lowers the mug a hare, judging what seems to be going on. "How often?" bets start being made as men and women crowd around.

"Often enough, but I am not going to leg wrestle with them." motioning as the two men go down and start get into position. "I am not a fan of ruining my ankles for sport."

Much as when she was guided to the table, Rozlyn initially begins to stiffen. The walls she's built for so long intending to kick in. But what he does, while certainly familiar is not too far out of bounds. And a part of her… has begun to like it. She shifts slightly, accommodating the Grantham as she lifts her own mug, watching the men as they get settled in. "To be honest, I've only ever seen children do that before. Why not properly wrestle, especially to do so before a crowd?"

The shift in gets a small smile, hidden in his mug, as Luke continues to watch the wrestling go down. "Let's watch a few- make a bet?" A half smile there before he drains more down. "Once their done, if you like, I know of a lava flow we can go and look at. It's not deviated from it's course, so we should be safe to inspect." A glance with his eyes. "I'll make sure you don't fall in.." And then he falls silent, letting the sounds of the competition and the feel of the Mead house take over. Indeed, this is something he can get familiar with. Something he likes. And when the moment is right, he'd sneak her out before either one of them are called to join in.

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