Participants:

Carys_icon.gif Cenn_icon.gif

Scene Title A Favor to Ask
Synopsis A friendly visit sets the stage for a very heavy request. And it gets weirder from there.
Location Quaint Manor
Date 22 August 9:31 Dragon
Watch For Murderous contracts. Heavy Confessions. And then…cute? Seriously?
Logger Carys

Early afternoon, and Cenn comes clad in simple but well fitted clothes. Not the sort of thing he normally turns up to this house in. And when he's let in, and told that the master of the house will be informed, it's with a shake of the Templar's head, and saying that he's here to see Carys instead. Not that he'd be opposed to speaking with Davan after, but… Well, business is what it is. So he's lead in, waiting in the front room, taking a seat, familiar with this place now. Though it might be a little weird for Carys, having servants tell her that she has a guest in the foyer.

It's weird…once it /happens/. In fact, poor Cenn is left standing in the foyer for, without exaggerating, a good ten minutes. The doorman who had let the poor templar in was likely seen passing the room a handful of times, and even one time actually came back in and searched the place before leaving again. And when Carys finally arrives, she's doing so hopping on one foot as she tugs one boot on (the other is in her hand), her coinpurse in her mouth and mumbling about this that or the other…obviously clueless that she has a guest. And fortunately her perception has clued her into this before she runs /into/ her guest. "Schenn!" She exclaims before the beleaguered doorman arrives. "Serah Carys… You have a guest."

You know, you'd think he'd be used to this by now. But it makes him laugh anyway, as Carys lands on him. With decent reflexes, Cenn catches her and shakes his head. It doesn't seem he was bothered by the wait. "Hello." He says, and gives a nod to the poor doorman.

Doorman just glances ceilingward before cutting the Templar a bow and excusing himself. "Fancy meetin' you here," Not really but still the sentiment is there. She then yanks the boot she just yanked on /off/ and seems to settle down for some company since, from how the Doorman spoke, she's the one who's got the TEmplar's attention, not her current host.

Cenn doesn't speak again until the doorman is gone. And he doesn't try and dislodge Carys from his lap. Because, well, what's the point? "So… That… Thing you told me about?" He begins, a little uncomfortable, "I can understand if you want to keep that life and our friendship seperate but… I could use some help."

What's the point, indeed! It's a comfortable lap and it's also the /only/ reason Cenn can get any clue that she's reacting to 'that thing you told me about', which is a slight tensing born of expectation of what might follow such a thing, because otherwise, she's still all relaxed smiles and trying to put her coinpurse somewhere that isn't, well, the table next to her. Predictably, it gets shoved into her top. "Have I showed you my room yet?" she instead comments as if he didn't say a damn word. "C'mon!" She leaps to her feet, snapping a hand out to grab his and he should be use to the routine by now. That being if he doesn't stop her, he gets dragged all about the little manor. He could, if he's in a noticing mood, see that some of the more gaudy decorations are… not there anymore. No, they haven't been replaced, they're just not there. But soon, he'll find himself in a nice little (for the place!) room. It's clean, as expected, but it doesn't seem /lived/ in. True enough, looking about it's obvious that Carys is sdtill living out of her bags as if she's expecting to find a new place at any given moment.

"Nice huh? I don't know what t'make of it, really. An' the bed's really bouncy!" She even demonstrates by leaping on it, and bouncing once then tucking her legs underneath her to drop on the mattress. While she settles from bouncing this way, it gives time for Cenn to find a place to sit.

Cenn does, indeed, follow. He's used to being dragged along by this point. And as much as he is sometimes overly honest, he does understand the concept of discretion. Glancing about the room, he nods. "Yes, it is. And… Yeah… I'm, uh," Cenn blushes a little, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, "Familiar with how bouncy the beds here are."

She just tosses him a smirk at that. "Yeah, I get it." She then laces her fingers and stretches them out before her. "So… Here's th' deal about what you first mentioned. The whole… lives separate thing." She springs off the bed and makes sure the door's closed, complete with locking it. "Let's say you got a nail. A pal'a yours gives you a hammer. So…what'cha gonna do witht hat nail? Use the hammer you already got? Or go find a different one? Friend wouldn't have given you /that/ hammer in the first place if they were adverse t'you /usin'/ it eventually." She turns and arches her brows as she watches him process what she says.

"Sure." Cenn says, eventually settling down on the end of the bed, "But this isn't a hammer. This is you sharing truth about yourself to a friend. That doesn't mean I should make use of it, it could just mean you want someone to talk to. But I get your meaning." Taking a deep breath, Cenn looks away, finding some piece of art to stare at. "There is a Templar in Starkhaven who hurt a mage who has just been tranferred to Kirkwall, someone who I hold dear."

"I trust you," Carys says here when he mentions he shouldn't make use of her confession. And those three words are void of any of the usual joviality she tends to have when she speaks making them seem remarkably heavy. "You won't abuse it and t'me, it's helpin' a friend out." So she walks over, and sits down next to him, her brows arched in a way to warn him that waht she just said was /not/ an invitation for him to back out. Her lips part as if she's going to say something, but she's stalling. Templars, unfortunatley, hurt mages. The bad ones do, anyway. But that's not what's got her hesitating. It's the fact he's… considering this route that's got her to mentally go WTF? Not him, of course, but… "Hurt… how?"

Cenn gives her an appreciative smile for that, but words would ruin the sincerity of that moment, and so he does not mar it with such. He does, however, shake his head at that question. "I do not have gruesome details." He says, "She confessed it to her Healer, and I dare not push. But it is personal, and it is enough to make one of the Circle's Spirit Healers sick with anger. So I can only imagine…" Cenn loses his voice there, swallowing hard.

She's quiet, listening, giving him her full undivided attention. Considering she does, genuinely, have a problem with keeping her attnetion in one place, it should speak volumes that she's forcing herself to focus so strongly. As he trails off, she just rests a hand on one of those large shoulders and gives it a squeeze of her fingers before she stands up. Moving to one of those bags, this one seems not to have been dug into often. "Starkhaven, y'said? NOt a ground I'm familiar with, so it'll take me a bit. Fortunately, templars aren't hard t'get out of a circle." She sets a couple things aside, and one bottle has the label facing in a way that Cenn could read the label before the Rogue pushes it to it's side and rolls it over, preventing any further contemplating of that label. "Considerin' how many damn templars I see at the Rose, if the place's got a brothel it'll be a walk in th' park."

"Not sure of a brothel, Starkhaven's a very Chantry heavy city." Cenn says, "But everywhere has its shady places. I don't know his name, sadly, but I can try to get it. He's missing an eye, relatively recent wound, lost it to a raven." There's a glance to that vial, but only because of movement. He knows what he's asking, he's not going to shy away from the tools of the trade now. He swallows hard again, and then nods. "Thank you, Carys."

A snap is given then a thumbs up at the information. That should be enough to get more, such as a name and the like. She then rearranges things, putting that particular vial towards the top. Closing the bag she stands up and turns to face him. "YOu're welcome," she says quietly before she continues. "Templars are s'posed t'protect their charges. That in an' of itself's supposed t'come with a certain amount'a trust. Those that abuse that kind'a trust an' their position are no better than th' bullies who prey on little children for their food on the streets. So… I'll have a little /chat/ with this Templar 'bout what's appropriate in his position." She then rests her hand again on his shoulder. "An' when I'm done talkin' t'him, everyone'll be in a better position t'rest easy that he's learned his lesson." She's silent for a moment. "I can't abide a bully. Can't abide a person' abusin' their power like that. People /are not/ … things. An' I don't mind remindin' someone that fact when they forget an' get uppity."

Look, he understands discretion. He understands talking around a situation, but this… Cenn is uncomfortable, and it's obvious. He knows Carys isn't going to let some monster like that walk away, or at least he believes as much, but there's a look in his eyes that says he's concerned. "She's afraid, still, and I…" Cenn sighs, "She… I can't bear to see her like that. I can't help her while she's terrified. And she's…" Cenn closes his eyes then, his head bowing, covering his face with one of his hands, "Rylan had a twin. He'd never told me. But he did. And it's her and I would do this my damned self with my bare hands and I would not lose sleep but I've made a promise."

It's habit for her. To dance around things. Sitting back down, she furrows her brows as Cenn speaks some more, giving her further insight into what sort of pain this entire mess is causing. And that little bit of info? Has those brows shooting up and he's suddenly pulled into a full embrace. "Maker's breath," she mutters in an exhale. "No… You… you let me take care of this," she insists initially. "A twin, huh?" she gently steers. "That… had to have been a bit of a shock." And any and all thoughts of /possibly/ passing the job along are dashed. She'll handle this herself.

Cenn accepts that hug like he's holding on to her for a lifeline. There's a deep breath, but he's more stable then, and he nods. "Alright." He says, and that is simply that. He wouldn't ask her to be any more clear. "Yeah… It was. Very much. She didn't know he was dead."

Carys just gives him a /look/ at that little bit. "I go away for a weekend and th' world decides t'smack you around some. Makes me think I need t'keep my happy ass in Kirkwall." She shakes her head at that. "A conversation I hope went…somewhat smoothly…considering." Shaking her head, she just seems flabberghasted at Cenn's luck right then.

Look, Cenn's luck is not something he can brag about. It's fucking awful. "I… Well… No? Yes? As well as it could have?" Cenn says with a sigh, "I probably shouldn't have been the one to tell her. And then…" More sighing. "Things just really got out of hand fast with all of it…" That's putting it lightly.

There's a glance. "If not you, then who?" She frowns a little bit with that. "Especially considerin' it's been a year or so…" She deliberately does not further comment, instead shaking er head once more. "When it rains it pours. Heard that somewhere… seems t'be apt. But… Y'got people t'make sure you don't drown."

"I suppose that is fair." Cenn says, "But I'm not exactly… Over it, either. So there were just… Two drowning people trying to figure it out together and it was kind of a mess." That's putting it lightly. Let's not get into the fool man literally offering Mac his life, if she'd wanted it. But that reminds him. "Unrelatedly, if I brought you an ingredient to try adding to chocolates, would you be willing to experiment for me? One of my friends in the Circle, he's from Rivain, and there were these chocolates laced with peppers… I'd be happy to pay you for them."

She can't help but kind of fuzzle the top of the man's head as if /she/ were the older one in the pair. "But you /didn't/ drown, so… there's that. Just keep swimmin' an' you'll find an edge t'climb out." She thent ilts her head and just before he utters /his/ randomc omment, she offers, "Ever thought 'bout growin' your hair out? As if you weren't irresitable before." She gives that cheeky, toothy grin of hers before blinking when things come back around to her /hobby/. IT IS A HOBBY. "I swear, if th' KNight-Commander herself shows up t'my doorstep wantin' a sweet, I'm gonna take you over my knee." Too bad that was said in a very straight laced tone and with no subtle other meanings. "we're not talkin' like, black pepper, right? More like a chili? I heard'a that. Chili bein' used with chocolates." At the offer of paying she just rolls her eyes and gives the man a light shove. "Don't give me money, it'll jus' be under yer pillow the next mornin'."

The ruffle to his hair makes Cenn laugh. "You think?" He says, lifting a hand to his hair for a moment. "I've considered facial hair, but not really growing this out." And then there's another laugh. "Don't worry, he's one of the mages. Most of the Order doesn't know. Meredith Stannard shouldn't be making any house calls." Then he nods. "Yeah, hot peppers. He's going to requisition some of them. And fine, if you insist. Though you might start getting called the Spirit of Chocolate."

Pushing herslef to her feet she moves over to one of the other, obviously lived in bags and digs around. "Okay if the First Enchanter arrives on my doorstep…." she corrects, flashing that cheeky grin over her shoulder. "I don't mind. It makes people happy an' you know how I am about that. Tell him t'requisition more chocolate. I'm runnin' out an Rivain's one of th' best place t'get it." She pauses. "I'd do Orlesian chocolate but I'm on strike with Orlais right now so…" And then prempting his comment about his heritigage, "You don't count." She then straightens and rests her hands on her hips. "Well, I guess if y'really want t'pay me back somehow…I did somethin' dumb an' I'm afraid I'm gonna make it even dumber when it happens."

From murder to casual, non-violent mayhem… go fig.

"I don't know if he can requisition chocolate, but I can probably get ahold of some." Cenn says. There's no protest to her boycott on Orlais, just a smirk when she says he doesn't count. "Alright," He says, sounding amused, "What did you do?"

What did she do? "I… um." She taps her fingers together, "Kind'a asked Carver over for dinner. I mean, I guess it's not dumb but… uh. Right. DAtes. Somethin I have never done." She makes a wiping motion before her. "Ever."

"Okay." Cenn says, smiling. He leans back then, making himself comfortable. "What sort of help do you want?"

Carys opens her mouth to answer the question and then she frowns slightly and then looks defeated. "I'unno." She spins on one foot then faceplants on her bed. "I got the food portion covered." … Of course. "An' then that bottle'a …what's it called… Lion's Blood I'm gettin' into posession soon…But… Blegh." She's quiet again then she comments, "This date stuff's hard."

A slow grin spreads across Cenn's face. "Lion's Blood?" He says, almost sounding nostalgic, "You've talked to Garou, then, I see." Because no one else in this fucking city had the money for that and would choose to spend it on fine, Orlesian brandy. "Food, drink, location. Sounds like you have it covered, actually. Maybe pick up something flattering?"

Carys rolls over. "Yeah, he found me the other day and wanted some chcoolates made, too." Hence her comment about if the Knight Commander showing up… "Offered me money an' a bottle o'that Brnady… I told him to include another one an' he got himself a deal." Obviously she had /plans/ fore that second bottle. "Yeah… I mean, thank Davan's lettin' me stay here for that at least an'…" She frowns for a moment at the term flattering. "Does … antivan mean flatterin'? Otherwise, I guess… well. Um. Damn."

Cenn grins. "Yeah, he would. Good deal there, though. Those bottles are… Well…" He says, shaking his head, "Not cheap. And mmm… It could? But… If you want something a little more… Here, I'd be happy to go shopping with you. And not encourage anything garish."

She shrugs. "Hey, it's his …what was the word you used? Commission? If he wants t'blow it on expensive booze an' give it t'me for candy, I ain't gonna stop him." She totally considers it an awesome deal and a better spenditure of money, anyway! Then she's thinkinag again and she snaps. "You mean somethin' like…" Congratulations Cenn, you /might/ just be about to see your first almost naked girl, if everything so far points to that particuar thing because Carys pretty much strips to the waist, and then replacing the corset she was wearing and angling it just so. "Like /this/." She may be clueless but girl does know the appeal of her own cleavage. Even if she uses it for a storage.

Funny enough, Cenn has actually seen naked women before. Mostly when he was young, to be fair, but he has. So this doesn't actually bother him. "Well, I mean, yes… But… You know, with some form of modesty. That's a thing Fereldens like, yeah? You did say he was Ferelden…"

"Do they? I started 'adulting' when I left Ferelden," Carys points out, meaning whatever lessons she's learned in THAT area (which apparently ahve been few and far between) were done somewhetre else. Maker forbid she learned anything during her year in Orlais. But she turns her back to get the damn thing off again because ugh, this is so not a fun thing to wear when you're not wearing something underneath it, and she reaches for what Liddy insists he wears for bedtime. It's had it's hem ripped in half and the sleeves removed to make it less billowy cloth a nd more comfortable. "But yeah, help… that's… Yeah, I could use some." She rubs her face. "Hell, it took forever to really settle in that he actually said /yes/ t'the damn thing an I didn't even do /that/ well." She sprawls, now in comfortable clothes, on the mattressa nd looks at Cenn upside down. "If only I had an ounce'a your smoothness."

Cenn laughs. "My smoothness?" He says, shaking his head, "Compared to what I'm supposed be I'm a hopeless fool." Adjusting his position on the bed, he flops down next to her, his feet purposefully off the bed. Lacing his fingers over his chest, he stares up at the ceiling, seeming content to just sit and chat with his friend now. "I am sure you will do fine. If he wants to go to dinner, I'm sure he is already fond of precisely how you are."

And Carys is belly-down sprawled. Who replaced the theif and the templar with a couple of fourteen year old girls? "Oh well, I guess. But… Haven't y'ever wanted t'make srue somethin' went right /anyway/? I mean, I"ve spent th' last few conversations we had figurin' out which topis to avoid." She pauses and says, knowing that Cenn likely would never ever repeat things unless otherwise avoidable, "Speakin' o'which, don't mention Ostagar around him. Not a good topic." And it's then that she recalls Cenn was in Ferelden during teh blight, so she nods here, knowing the templar would get /exactly/ why that's a bad topic.

"Oh, sure. But don't tie yourself in knots over it." Cenn offers, reaching to brush a stray bit of hair from Carys' face. Fourteen year old girls they may be, but Cenn didn't care one bit. He'd never had a friend like this. Friends of other kinds, sure, but this was nice in a way that his soul needed. He nods, though. "Noted. Though it doesn't tend to be something I bring up anyway. The whole of the Blight was just…" Cenn frowns, "It's not my homeland, but I had definitely come to love Ferelden, and it hurt to see it suffer like it has."

Stubborn hair is stubborn and it falls back in Carys's face to which she blows out. "I wasn't there for that," she says of the Blight. "But I saw th' fall out easily enough. Th' refugees, mainly." It's a lot of dispair, her tone says, but she won't put it to actual words. "But…things heal, given the time. It's just.. gotta try clingin' t'that bit of hope that gets y'through it."

Cenn laughs, and it's a bitter thing, but it comes along with a nod. "Yeah… Trust me… I understand." He says, "I know they will all heal. But I had done what I could for Ferelden, and watching its struggle back to life would have been needless pain. So I requested the transfer here." And look what it had got him.

Maybe she caught that little bit of bitterness and is acting on it… or maybe she's just rather curious. "D'you regret it? Comin' t'Kirkwall?" She asks, pushing herself up to sit, tucking her legs underneath her and leaning to the side in a way that she faces the Templar.

Shaking his head, Cenn sighs. "No? Not really. It's been… Difficult, but I don't regret it." He says, "I just… Hope is a weird topic for me." That's putting it lightly. He can't look at her when he says it, either. Because there were people who knew now, and she's his best friend and he's not told her and… How can he? It's one thing to plan mundane assassinations. It's one thing to share that he had loved a mage. This was different.

If only he knew. But she doesnt' suspect anything's wrong, merely assuming that the comment is born from his trials. "I understand. Well… I think I understand." She pauses. "Maybe I don't… but I'll try, anyway. Hell, I'll even pretend t'know what I"m talkin' about." She cracks a grin here, even if he might miss it by glancing away. "I mean, you do yer thing… y'could always do what I been doin' an just carry on like you're gonna drop dead any given moment. Gets you into weird trouble." She's glanced away at this, as if that lack of attention kicked in. Or, it could be just as deliberate as Cenn's own finding something else to look at. "Like, askin' a drunk stranger if he wants t'put his face in yer boobs." She nudges him at this point.

There's another bitter laugh then, and Cenn closes his eyes. He can't bear her not knowing. Not now. "Can I tell you something and ask you to let me get all the way through before freaking out?" He asks, taking a deep breath. This is just too supportive for him to let her keep going in good conscience.

"Hm?" she…. might freak out about something? From /Cenn/? Cute, sad, puppy Templar Cenn? This she's got to hear. She then gives an exaggerated sigh. "If I must…" but the tone is fully playful, and then he's got her (Mostly) undivided attention again.

"The day Rylan died…" Cenn begins, because he's gotten this much of the story in place already. He's breathing deep and trying to stay calm through the explaining, but no matter how many times it's explained, it doesn't get easier. "I did too." Well, that doesn't make a lot of sense, now does it, Cenn? What with you laying there, breathing, heart beating, warm to the touch… All that silly business that living people do. "Trying to get to him, I was… It was…" He shivers, the thought of that day in Kinloch still haunts him, for more reasons than just the death of the man he loved. "A Spirit of Hope took pity on me. And she's with me still, keeping me alive."

She's good to her word, and is quiet throughout the entire thing. "That's…" She doesn't sayt he word that comes to mind, that being 'possession'. The whole 'a Mage is an Abomination waiting to happen' sort of deal /is/ one of the stories that gets ciruclated amongst the common folk to help enforce the need of Mages being in their Circles. "Guess that makes sense… good with the bad an' all…" She's speaking absently now, processing the words given to her and applying it to the pitifully… vacant knoweldge she as a non-Mage Non-Templar type would have. Outside of "Mages are Dangerous" sort of rhetoric. And then, she asks one single question: "So, which part'm I supposed to freak out about? You havin' a spirit or you bein' dead?"

Cenn lets out a breath he had not realized he was holding, and laughs again. The Templar turns, twists, and takes hold of Carys around the middle, hugging her awkwardly as she's sitting and he's laying. "Most people would jump to the 'Abomination' assumption." He says, "But I'm not. Hope isn't a Demon."

"Well, I know you," She says, squeaking a bit as she hugged. "An' seriously, it's somethin' called 'hope'. Someone? Are they people? I'unno. I just steal things." And sometimes kill things. However, she's speaking in that kind of slow way she does when she's simuntaneously deciding on something. "An well… the dead thing? I mean, if I were t'get all bent outta shape 'bout that, well…" She shrugs. "Let's just say I don't wanna get bent outta shape at /myself/ any time soon."

"Kind of? I think? They're different but they're definitely sentient." Cenn says, "She, though. She tends to present as a young girl." Little shock, a Spirit of Hope taking on the trappings of a child. But then Cenn looks up at Carys, and his brow knit. "What do you mean?"

Carys shrugs here. "I mean that I'm pretty sure we got that much in common." She tugs a bit on the gown she weas wearing to this time deliberately expose her midsection and the several still-healing scars there that… most people do /not/ tend to recover from. "I'm pretty sure I bled out in an Ostwick alley after puttin' myself between a gang of thugs an' some kids protectin' their food." She wrinkles her nose. "It didn't go so well." Duh. "I can't explain what happened… not like you did…Or, hell, maybe I wasn't as injured as I thought… but…" She shrugs absently. "Maybe I should'a got your promise not t'freak out," because she doesn't even have the ecuse of possession!

Looking as she lifts the fabric, Cenn nods. He'd respected her privacy enough before to never really glance, so he'd never noticed. "I'm sorry that happened to you…" Cenn says gently. He's well aware of how terrifying that blackness that comes when your heart has decided it is done, when your mind is shutting down, when every muscle has given up and there's just this sputtering flame of thought and then… "I am glad you're here now, though. No matter how it was that you walked away from that."

"They still kind'a hurt. I probably should'a found someone better than me t'do this," she absently comments about the patchwork. It's a distraction technique though, and a very obvious one. She's not sure how her own admission would be taken. Just becuase something like this is something one has in common with another, does not mean that other would be accepting. But it turns out she needn't have worried, and the relief on her face is palpable. "Figures that my first brush with death would be tryin' t'defend little kids tryin' t'eat, right?" By this time such a thing shouldn't be surprising. AT his last though, she can't help the lopsided buyt no less genuine smile. "… Me too. It's… lead t'some things I've found I'd been sorely missin'. And needing." And this is where she ruffles his hair. AGAIN.

"Weren't you staying with Anders for awhile?" Cenn asks then, raising a brow, "He could probably help." He nods then, though. "Yeah, makes sense. Mirrors me, too. Looking for Rylan, I found a closet full of a few of younger apprentices." Stupid retriever that he was, he'd held the line until it had literally killed him. But it had been enough. Cenn reaches then, taking Carys' hand and smiling up at her, even with ruffled hair. "No dying a second time, okay?"

She shrugs here. "Yeah, but I felt kind'a weird buggin' him over stuff that's technically fine. Felt like I was takin' stuff away from people who really needed it." NOt that she's aware that Anders could, technically, fit in the little club that's going on on the bed right now. "I mean, okay so I got ugly belly scars. They'll make interestin' bedside conversation eventually I guess." Concerneda bout her looks she apparently is not. At least not in a self-absorbed sense. She then smirks here, affectionately. "Why am I /not/ surprised." Because she's not and if anyone was ever an example of the TEmplars are there to /protect/, it'd be this one right here. "Don't plan on it. Gotta lot of stuff ahead'a me t'look forward to." … is that some insight to how she acts? Maybe! "Least of which is dinner. With a cute soldier from Ferelden."

Then she adds, "Same goes for you. Dunno how often spirits pull the saving trick but don't make it a habit."

"I'm not planning on it, either. Not anymore." Cenn says, and takes a deep breath. He had people he needed to properly thank for that… Somehow. Though how do you do that for something like this? "And I'm sure Anders would be glad to help, if you found him on a day that wasn't madness, and asked politely." If he knows Anders at all. Which, to be fair, it's been years, but still.

Carys rolls her eyes. "That mage /surrounds/ himself with madness. I don't know how but… Ugh. He does!" She flails her arms for a moment. "I mean, while I was there there was a /zoo/ in the clinic! That should give you an idea!" She crosses her arms and huffs. She then shrugs. "Eh, he saw the hip scar. Gave it a disgusted look but he was kind'a focused on someone else's wounds t'do anything." Hence her comment abouyt why she wouldn't /ask/ in the first place.

Cenn just fixes her with a look. "There have to be moments where he is free. Or, if you're friends, you can arrange for a time. Again, if I know him at all, he's not going to want you to suffer just because you don't want to bother him." He says, shaking his head. "And I used to know him… Well enough. I think."

To this, she reaches over and presses a finger to Cenn's forehad. "I'm not sufferin'. It's cosmetic at this point an' I don't care 'bout cosmetics. I can still do a backbend without skippin a beat," or wincing in pain, "An' that's the important part. Because, y'know, backbends are important." She then tilts her head. "I'm not arguin' wither or not /he/ will help me, I'm arguin' whether or not I'm gonna go ask him in the first place." She does nod a bit. "He's good people, regardless. Asked a few friends t'keep an eye on his place for him."

Cenn groans. "He'd chide you as much as he does me." He says, shaking his head. "But alright, if you're sure. You're the one who said they still hurt." But he's done pushing now, and shifts to put his head in Carys' lap.

"Because they're healing… but I"m fine," she insists and not just because she's not wanting to be a bother. "C'mon, you've seen some of the stuff I do, think I'd do that if they were givin' me that much of an issue?" And oh hey, she has a head in her lap, and that gets her humming happily. This has been a weird night. "You really need long hair so I c'n braid it. Not enough cute guys have long hair around here. An' the ones that do have scary partners." But, Cenn gets head massages regardless of his hair length, so there's that.

"Scary partners?" Cenn says, intrigued. He has no idea what she might be going on about. He laughs though. "I'll consider it. Or just introduce you to Seren. He keeps his hair past his shoulders. I was looking to have you meet him anyway." Not that it would be simple, with him being in the Circle, and all.

"Don't ask," Carys says rolling her eyes and really not wanting to waste her breath on He who she cannot figure out for the life of her. "OOh, that's a pretty length…who's Seren?"

She says don't ask, and Cenn doesn't. Instead, the Templar just nods. "He's a," A small, almost imperceptible pause there, "Friend of mine. The mage who is looking for the pepper chocolates." Yeah, friend. Let's go with that. It's not wrong but last night… Cenn's blushing. He doesn't realize it, but he is.

Carys doesn't notice the pause but she notices the /blush/. "A 'friend' is it? Is he cute? Well, he has t'be since I especially mentioned /cute/ guys with long hair an' you wouldn't be like tossin' me an uggo with long hair. An' he'll get his chocolate chilis, don't worry."

Carys just shakes her head as if Cenn's the most adorably pathetic thing in the world, which he may very well be. At least she doesn't seem to have any ideas on Cenn's availability considering her host. And it's obvious, there's just no reaction to the implication that something's got this TEmplar blushing about this guy. Until she specifically hears otherwise? Pft, whatever. "Sounds like more'n enough reason for me t'meet him, I think. Y'know me, I love a good cute guy spicin' up my day." NOt that she's capable of figuring out what to do one even if she landed on one.

"Well, then, I'll see what I can arrange." Cenn says with a nod. And that's all he's going to say on the matter. Because he's really not going to get into last night. That would be… Awkward. Now, it's not like Davan's laid any claims, so that is something, but still. Talking about another lover in a place where his staff could, theoretically, hear? Bad form.

To which, yeah. She can get. "Well, th' mages can go into the Gallows proper an' I've done shoppin' there. I fell on this blind mage once there. I can't remember his name, though." Probably because, she's content and happy and chitchatting mundane stuff.

"That would be Enchanter Valentin." Cenn answers with a laugh. Because, really, how many blind mages did any given Circle have? Not many, and Cenn's heard enough from Garou. "And yes, they do. I can let you know when next he gets assignment to mind the stalls."

Shehe waves her hand. "nono, I menat t'meet your Seren. Get 'im in the Gallows proper, I promise I won't be doin' anythin' disturbin' and… Profit!"

Cenn laughs. "No, I know. I meant I would tell you when next Seren would be at the stalls, silly." He says, shaking his head. These two.

"Ooooh, right. I ttoally got that." She totally did. She's not admitting otherwise. "An' just in case you haven't figured it out," Carys says a bit more soberly, "Yer welcome t'just lounge here for a while an' relax. Sounds like you've had a… busy time of it… an I don't think this afternoon helped much." She pauses. "If not… it's really easy t'climb out my window an'… onto Lady Phearsen's roof. Y'probably don't wanna do that. That might get back t'yer boss."

At that, Cenn laughs heartily. "There is a perfectly serviceable front door." Cenn says, through his laughter, "I came in through it."

To which the sage wisdom of, "JUs' cause you come in one door doesn't mean y'have t'go /out/ the same one!" She tries to sound… mature and it ends horribly because she ends up giggling halfway through it.

"You are a brat." Cenn says, though he's swatting at her arm for that one. It's playful and gentle, but a swat none the less. "That was awful."

An dt he swat just gets her to giggle more, letting it roll into full belly-born laughter. "but no less true! I mean did Davan actually tell you /how/ he managed t'corner me an' get me to stay here?"

At that Cenn just stops and stares at her. Because maybe she took that joke very differently than he did. "Uh… No?"

She waves a hand. "I was laughin' at you callin' me a brat. But windows are very good doors." She again insists. Then she says… "I tried robbin' him. Came in through the window. Didn't know this place was his."

"Ah, okay…" Cenn says, sighing in relief, "With where my mind had gone, this turning into talk of Davan was… Well, a little concerning."

For a moment Carys just sort of stares at him completely clueless. One could almost hear the sound effect to accompany her blinking at him. "OH, no. 'Bout the only thing 'wrong' in that sense was I chose the room he was in after he got out of a bath an'… Let's just say I approve of your taste."

Cenn blinks, and then shakes his head, groaning. "You know, you're completely ridiculous. I adore you, but you are a menace." That word, how often it was said with affection in Kirkwall. He laughs then. "I'm glad you approve. I'm certainly happy with the find, anyway."

Carys puffs her cheeks out at the whole menace thing. "I resemble that remark!" she even juts her chest out as if she's trying to own up to that proudly. "'Sides, I'm a harmless menace. So there's taht."

"I never said you weren't." Cenn says with a smile. "And it's one of your more appealing qualities, so I certainly don't mind."

Carys lifts a hand to scratch at her jawline. "Well, I"m /mostly/ harmless. Few things do get my dander up, but… they're easy t'figure out." Y'know, bullies, slavers, rapists… creepy dwarves who explode. "An' if I gotta take the adorable compliment, so d'you. Because if we're gonna sit here an' be this kind'a cutsey, might as well go for broke."

"I will accept this moniker, if you so insist." Cenn says with a laugh. "And yeah, I get it. I'm mostly harmless too." Because well, really, he is. You have to give Cenn a really good reason before he gets violent. When he does, though… Maker have mercy.

"I do," she says in all seriousness. "Just like I insist you come down t'the kitchen with me an' have dinner before you gotta go back to Clankety-bucket land."

Cenn smiles and nods. "Alright, I think I can manage that much. I have to at least say hello to Davan, or leave him a note, at least." He says, and pulls himself to sitting so they can go eat.


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