Julie_icon.gif Carys_icon.gif

Scene Title A Small Request
Synopsis Julie tracks Carys down to request her help.
Location Lowtown Slums
Date August 08 9:31 Dragon
Watch For Carys-brand confusion
Logger Carys

For the most part,t he rubble that had occupied a portion of Lowtown has been, mercifully, shoved at least to the side to make walking to and fro easier. It might not necessarily be cleaned up… but it is at least out of the way. While said rubble is the object of her attention, Carys is instead seated on a low roof of one of the buildings nearby. One leg is brought up so she may sling an arm over her knee, and she's eyeing one particular spot amidst the destruction. The fact it's the spot where her small apartment used to be is likely not the issue. but it has Carys's attention all the same.

Julie had missed all the excitement in Lowtown. Mercifully, perhaps. The Chevalier had been out on the wounded coast the day the attack happened. She's been doing a lazy spiral of Lowtown for the past hour or so, half looking for Carys, half stretching her legs. The Orlesian's dress is more simple today, the coat left behind due to the hellish summer sun, leaving her in just a red shirt, simple black linen pants and boots crafted for taking a beating from bad terrain. Or course, her fancy weapons are at her side, and if one looks closely they can see the glint of her chain occasionally peak out from under the rim of her shirt. There's a wince as she looks at the rubble, eyes following up to where the tops of the buildings once stood, which lead her to Carys. The sight of the thief makes her smile, "How's the weather up there?" She asks from the street. "Any cooler?" Not that that makes any sense, but it's not like Chevaliers study thermodynamics.

"If only," Carys answers without skipping a beat. A push from her arms and she's pretty much vaulting from the ceiling to land on the ground in a practiced motion that keeps broken knees a d ankles to a minimum. "I take it it's cooler in Orlais, too?" she dusts her hands off and then offers the Chevalier a smile, if a bit subdued currently. "Glad t'see you're still kickin' about. Nothin' too horrid gotten to you, I hope. Kirkwall hasn't been exactly kind t'people lately."

"Depends on where you are." Julie replies, "Orlais is rather large." She smiles at Carys' smiling, it's a vicious cycle of happy expressions, really. "I've missed a lot of the unkindness, since getting stabbed anyway." She looks around the rubble where the buildings used to be. "What happened here anyway? I can't seem to get a straight answer out of most people."

Carys crosses her arms and glowers at the rubble. "Prolly 'cause no one who wasn't directly involved in it really knows what th' hell happened," she points out. She rolls a shoulder, apparently more put out about the destruction than she seems to be. Julie seems ot have caught the woman in a rare moping moment. "Long story short: There was a golem bein' chased by Darkspawn an' there were demons an' an abomination an' then a couple'a creepy pasty dwarves exploded an' took a couple'a buildings with 'em." She kicks a rock. "The place I was livin' bein' one of 'em."

Julie's eyes widen like any reasonable person's would at that description of events. "Maker, a golem, and darkspawn, and exploding dwa- you know what never mind." she says, shaking her head. "I don't want to know." But Carys remarking about her apartment being blown up gets the chevalier's attention again. "Have you found somewhere else to stay?" The chevalier asks, obviously concerned.

And a partridge in a pear tree! "Yeah… we didn't get it either. I mean… for starters, why's darkspawn in a city. Isn't the Blight over?" And then it's back to her place. Carys nods. "Yeah… got a pal in Hightown who's lettin' me crash in one of his spare rooms. Gives me time t'decide if I wanna try havin' my own place again or not. I mean, first time I try? It becomes rubble." She thumbs towards one of the places. "Carver says I shouldn't let that stop me but I dunno… seems like th' Maker's tryin' t'tell me somethin'. 'NO permanent roofs for you!'."

Julie chuckles, "Hightown? You've got better digs than me." She says with this sort of mock pout on her face. "Really thouhg, I'm glad you're not out on the street." She shrugs as the conversation continues. "History would tell us that the Maker is a tempermantal ass and I go out of my way to not listen to him where I can." She holds as finger to her lips and makes a 'shhh' sound, "But don't tell my poor mother I said that, I'd hate to be a /total/ disappointment." Good little church girl, Julie is not. "Well, I've been looking for you to ask for your help with something, but if you're down on your luck I'd hate to impose."

"Only for the foreseeable future," Carys comments. "It really is /way/ too ritzy for me, even if there's a working kitchen I can lose myself in. I"m just chillin' until I can get enough t'start up rents on a new place. But it /does/ beat sleepin' in Anders' clinic." Which, yes, she was doing. She snorts about the religious stuff. "Don't ask me, I've already had my crisis o'faith this month." But she does tilt her head when the request for help comes. "Luck… I am not down on," she says with a grin, "I have lots'a luck. Just depends on th' day whether it's good luck or bad luck. But enough about luck…what'cha be needin'?"

"Only for the foreseeable future," Carys comments. "It really is /way/ too ritzy for me, even if there's a workin' kitchen I can lose myself in. I"m just chillin' until I can get enough t'start up rents on a new place. But it /does/ beat sleepin' in Anders' clinic." Which, yes, she was doing. She snorts about the religious stuff. "Don't ask me, I've already had my crisis o'faith this month." But she does tilt her head when the request for help comes. "Luck… I am not down on," she says with a grin, "I have lots'a luck. Just depends on th' day whether it's good luck or bad luck. But enough about luck…what'cha be needin'?"

Julie sighs with a playful wistfulness, "I might just kill someone for food from a working kitchen." She mutters. The spirited grin makes Julie smile, apparently she finds Carys' particular brand of spunk to be infectious. But, now they're getting down to the business of the conversation. "Have you heard the rumors about that little girl that went missing some time ago?"

Carys lifts a hand and snaps a finger. "Just tell me where you hang your hat an' I'll have some food sent. Th' guy's chef is Orlesian. So you can probably get that…weird…Orlesian stuff if you want." Sue her, she's FereldeerMarcher…something like that. Orelesian food, if it isn't pastries, is weird. But, to business! She tilts her head and thinks for a moment. "Not of the top of my noggin, no. I might've been busy tryin' to settle in an' stuff. But what's up?"

The sound Julie makes at the idea of proper Orlesion food is probobly more explicit in nature than she intended, but it's been a long time, okay? "As soon as I have a more permenant place to stay I'll let you know." The Chevalier replies. "There's a notice up on the chanter's board about a missing girl, and the guard can't seem to make heads or tails of where to find her." Julie begins to explain. "The word I've gotten off the street is that the girl wanted to run away, and she fell in with a gang of smugglers who like to make camp on the wounded coast. The thing is, I'm new to this city, and I don't have the connections or the reputation to figure out if this is a girl getting out of a bad situation at home, or a gang of thugs using a bad situation to exploit her." Julie pauses for a moment to gesture to herself, indicating the way she stands, "And I cut a figure more like a Hightowner than anyone these people would probably like to be honest and open with." Which finally brings us around to our point. "You seem to know this sort of thing better than I do."

Carys's brows furrow for a moment. "How long since the notice went up?" she asks. "Hm. Maybe we'll just crash the Chantry and rob the board… Wait.. not quite like that. NO…" She frowns. "How old was she? Is she?" She's humming to herself now, muttering. "Must keep present tense…" She snaps her fingers. "Refugee? Kirkwall Native? Class issues?" Pause. "/Name/? That's probably a good place to start."

"Amalia." Julie replies to the questions as the answers come to mind. "Lived with her aunt, is was her only guardian, Kirkwall native but a Lowtowner, eight years old, last seen picking up vials for her aunt's herbalism business." from her tone of voice Julie does not like how this situation is shaped at all.

Something about the set up has something clouding the normally impenatrable cheer of Carys' mein. And when she glances to the Chevalier, for a moment, something resembling murder flashes in those violet eyes. "You got yerself a deal, Julie." And then just like that, that flash of promised messy violence is gone. "We got Friends, Jules. We'll see if they got any information. It's a good startin' point."

Julie is surprised to see the flash of violent intent be gone as quikcly as it came… but not surprised that it was there in the first place. Though being called 'Jules' that catches her a bit off guard, she has to shake her head for a second to clear it. "Let me know what you find, I sould be pretty easy to find around the Hanged Man. Or bleeding out in Anders' clinic again, knowing my luck."

"… Prefer Julie?" Carys asks, clinging for a moment to the raction to the name. "Will do. It shouldn't be too hard. If they theymselves don't got nothin', it shouldn't be too hard for them t'sniff out a trail. Or I can sniff out a trail." She then wrinkles her nose. "Please don't." she says of bleeding out. " Though, th' Hanged man sounds like a plan."

Julie shakes her head, "It's not a matter of preference, I just haven't heard anyone call me that in a while." She explains, not seeming offended at all, perhaps a tad nostalgic. The look quickly fades and is replaced by her customary, easy smile. "I'll go out of my way to avoid any knife fights, I promise. At least, not until the one you and I have set a date for." She frowns momentarily, "Though hopefully we won't need it. Historically skirmishes around children don't go well."

"I'll level with you," Carys says, her hands resting on her hips. "Nothin' I can figure is good," she murmurs. "My first guess is she's been snatched by Slavers."

Julie's lips stretch into a thin line, "I was hoping otherwise." She says, "Hoping against hope perhaps." she sighs, "Then there will be more of them trapped wherever we find that camp. I know it's somewhere on the wounded coast, but approaching the camp blind is just asking to get stuck and tossed into the Narrow Sea." Her hand comes up to her chin as she thinks. "I'm spry in a fight, but can hardly anchor a line. Me not getting cut in half depends too much on moving around. Do you know anyone willing to help who is a bit more on the stocky side?"

"Several," Carys says. She even thumbs towards a house within pointing distance. "There's a bloke who can handle me landin' on him from a roof that lives there. Soldier." She hopes she keeps her tone (and skin! stupid blushing) neutral while she speaks of the youngest Hawke. "There's also the elf that Anders knows… Dunno if he's sturdy, but he walks around with a two-handed sword so that's gotta count for somethin'." Her nose wrinkles slightly as she speaks of Fenris, as if she might not quite think of him as her first go to. "There's also a friend'a mine who's a Templar. Pretty good at the whole, y'know, stayin' put thing."

Julie listens intently, seeming to take Carys' wrinkle at Fenris as a disqualification. "Mmm, how much faith do you have in soldier boy?" She asks. "Templars are great at what they do, which means they're often shit at fighting with people who have trained differently than them. Also not the best at supporting skirmishers, at least, in my experience." and let's not forget clanky as fuck.

Carys scratches the side of her nose an idle gesture that may give a reason to why the bridge of her nose gains a sudden flush of color. "Carver? He gutted like, three darkspawn in one whirly thing…" She uses her other hand to try to mime a whirlwind. She frowns when Julie seems to diss Cenn though. "He's good at bein' a team player, I'm sure. But…" She pauses. "He might have rules an' shit. I dunno if Templars have to have permission t'go wherever. Carver's probably our best bet if you're lookin' fr a meat shield."

Julie raises a hand in a ceasefire sort of motion regarding Cenn, "No disrespect meant, they're just different, not worse." she explains. "I'd be as ill suited to work well with him as he may be to work with me." And there's something of a rivalry between the order and the academy back home, which is probably more to the point. "Rules and shit is a real concern though. If you trust Carver," she pauses momentarily, "And want him with us for this then if you'd be willing to ask him, I'd appreciate it."

Carys doesn't get it. She's eyeing Julie as if she's trying to see whatever's underneath those words. But apparently, it seems that she decides that Julie doesn't have beef against Cenn specifically (Of course, how would she, as far as Carys knows, she's never met the man—Apparently Carys is just an overly protective sort), and she even nods. "'Kay." At the rest though, she owlishly blinks at her. TRUST someone? WHAT IS THIS CONCEPT… Oh wait,s he trusts CENN. So let's compare… "He's a good sort," she insists. "If you think we'll need muscle, then we probably should look at gettin muscle." She then grins at the latter and again hooks a thumb towards one of the houses. "If I wasn't scared'a their mabari eatin' me I'd probably be bangin' on the door an' askin' if he were home by now."

Julie blinks a few times before deciding that she and Carys just speak different languages. And you know what, that's okay. "Mabari are awfully intelligent, I doubt he'd try and eat you unless someone in that house wanted him to." She says. But they're digressing, "Someone to put us back together wouldn't entirely hurt either, but we're not goign to get someone on loan from the circle, and I'd hate to put anyone else at risk." Which is all she's going to say on Anders or any apostate out in the open. "So we may just have to do without."

"We know where t'go /if/ we're hurt," Carys says quietly. But she, too, seems to be hesitant to suggest dragging that man along. Maybe they ARE speaking the same language. "But…" Carys taps her chin, "Let's see where this leads us first. WE can hope that maybe we can find 'em an' /not/ need muscle or stitchin' up."

Julie nods, "You're right. I've got this nasty habit of always expecting a fight." Julie punctuates the comment with a smile. "Thank you for all your help Carys. Truly."

Carys touches the side of her nose and then points. "Don't lose that habit," she warns. "A job always has a chance'a goin' bad. You need t'be prepared for it. An' no need. I'm glad t'help. I got a few ideas on where t'start, but the problem is, her trail might've gotten cold outside of what you think with the Wounded coast."

"Outside of what I think?" Julie asks, head canting to the side. "Do you mean something abnormal might have happened or my information might be old?" Which is distinctly within the realm of possibility.

"Am I misrememberin' what you said?" Carys frowns slightly. "That happens," because, y'know, she gets distracted easily. "You said somethin' about the wounded coast an' I was commentin' on that."

Julie nods, "No I did. You're correct." The Chevalier blushes slightly. "Sorry, my common tongue is good, but I trip over sentences sometimes." she explains. "Orlesian will always be my first language."

To that, Carys grins. "Hey, I don't speak anything else, so you got one on me!" She throws her hands out to the side as if that some how demonstrates her point.

There's that infectious smile again, Julie can't really help herself. "Well, if you ever want to take a crack at learning Orlesian I can give teaching it a shot." She says. "Or at least teach you the words for the important things." Though with Julie the 'important things' could be any number of things.

Blink. Blink. "All right! Knowin' how t' say all the bad words an' clever insults in Orlesian sounds like a great thing," clearly this is what is 'important' to know when learning a new language, according to Carys.

Julie laughs at that, "Well that I can certainly help you with." the Chevalier promises. "I'll even throw in 'oh maker help I've been stabbed' and 'where's the bathroom' while I'm at it." she says through light chuckling. She looks off towards lowtown's winding streets, and then the other direction up towards the walls of Hightown. "We'll speak soon then?"

To that, Carys gives a flourishing bow… One that seems to have been born of a lot of practice. "Of course, my lady," she offers, her words easily losing the lazy slur she tends to speak with. Of course, any good charlatan would know how to do such a thing and while she focuses mainly on trouble making and houses, one can't help but slip into old habits every now and then. "If I can't find you," and she's got a tone like she probably /could/ find Julie easily if she wanted to, "I'll leave you a message at the Hanged Man. Few coins will insure it won't get read. HOpefully." If not, she knows a dwarf who will probably hold someone's mail!

Julie smiles somewhat awkwardly at the flourish and at being adressed as a lady. But again, it's more that she's forgotten what it feels like (even from a charlatan) than any actual offense. "If it seems to have been a while I'll ask Varric if he has a note from you." She agrees.

"Sounds like a plan. I'd tell you where I'm currently chillin' but who knows how long I'll be there," Carys says. "You could always ask where the explosions come from."

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