Carys_icon.gif Davan_icon.gif

Scene Title Robbing the Slave Owner
Synopsis Davan convinces Carys to help him rob dear old dad
Location Hightown
Date July 24, 2016
Watch For Fluffy Fox!
Logger Davan

Davan is shopping this mid-afternoon. Of course he's shopping. It does two of his favorite things: Spends his father's money and enhances his wardrobe. This time he's accompanied by the fluffiest silver and white fox to ever wear a silver belled collar, shiny leash, and to have gold applied to her tiny little nails. Said fox also looks overjoyed to be out, a fact she vocalizes in odd barks and yips becoming of her species.

Hightown shopping isn't usually where one would find someone of Carys', er, uh… disposition. But when you want /good/ stuff, this is where you go. But she's not digging through stalls of clothes or anything. She's found a place that actually sells pots and pans and the like and she's currently investigating a set of pots which, upon closer inspection, would prove to be a double boiler. Any lingering bruising from her vault off of rooftops have pretty much faded at this point, though there might still be a hint of that ugly left over yellow green on her legs… because damned if she couldnt' find a skirt that hit her ankles. Knee-length for the win! … she should clothes hop but apparently finding stuff to COOK WITH is more important than making sure she's clad to the expectations of people. She's got a shirt, she's got a skirt, she's got shoes. DEAL WITH IT.

"Okay, this is good," she comments to the stall owner. "I'll take this an' that soup pot in th' back—that's actual brass, right?" Has to be, else the price wouldn't be ridiculous. At least she's got something of a savings…again, spending it on cooking ware, go fig. The vocalizations are odd and immediately grab the thief's attention, and she looks to see what kind of horror is coming her way. And immediately lets out a squee of delight! She doesn't even recognize the Tevinter who's holding her shiny leash, she's holding up a 'Hold on a minute!' finger to the stall owner and jogging in a most girlish fashion over to where the fox is and dropping to her knees a respectable (and thus hard to bite) distance away. "Oh aren't you just th' most adorable thing ever! Can I pet you? Can I?" She holds out a hand and her tone of voice is ten shades of glee that only someone still able to claim to be a teenager can manage.

Princess is aptly name and the offer of attention? She's not even waiting for the man holding the leash, she'll just drag him along. "Princess!" Davan is caught so offguard that the fox actually manages to get her way (As always) and is soon wiggling as she tries to get into Carys' lap. "Really…" He sighs. "Wait, I know you. You had on more clothing the last time we met, but you're from that whole mess with the demons and other ugly things, yes? I don't think we were properly introduced. My name is Davan." He even sketches a bow. "I hope one of those piles of rubble didn't contain your things."

She's got cuteness in her lap! Oh yes, it's easy for Princess to get into the thief's lap especially when said thief's a total enabler. And then lots and lots of cuddles and pets and oh who is such a gorgeous pretty girl oh yes you are! There might even be another squee in there… fortunately, Carys' voice is not too highly pitched so canines (and anything else with ears) can rest easy. For a moment it doesn't even register that she's being talked to… but something about 'more clothing' seems to weedle in past all the 'Oh man I have fluffy cuteness I could die happy' and she finally glances up. It takes a moment before she Ohs! "Oh hello. Yeah, I was…for some reason inspired t'wear armor then. Good thing huh?" She wrinkles her nose as she grins brightly. She holds out a hand to the bowing, obviously intending for the man to shake it because she's so not getting up with fluffy cuteness sorry, "Carys. And…" She shrugs. "One of those piles of rubble /was/ my apartment building."

Davan isn't one to stop anyone from adoring Princess. He adores Princess. He'd have to in order to spend the time finding someone to apply gold to those little nails. "Oh you poor dear," he empathizes as he takes Carys' hand. "I suppose everything's gone? Those buildings can't leave much behind when they go. Well, it won't do. We'll at least have to have a spare outfit for you-" Spoiler, he nearly said decent. "Do you have somewhere to stay?"

Kissy faces! Because cute animals love kissy faces. Unless they're the cute kind of animals that like to eat faces. "Oh I'm fine, thank you," she says with all sincerity. "I didn't own much anyway, I was able t'nearly get it all in one arm load. Th' important stuff was saved like my bag'a cocoa beans from Rivain. D'you know how hard it is t'smugg—" Pause, think, "PURCHASE Rivain Cocoa in kirkwall?" She then pfts, but it's obvious that she's touched by the offer and is genuinely thankful. "You needn't bother yerself, Messare. I like my outfit. It's comfortable an' yeah, I gotta place t'stay. A friend has some spare room, so I'm occupyin' it." She leaves out that she didn't ASK and that said 'spare room' happens to be a free clinic in Darktown but hey…details, right?

Carys DOES sound…somewhat…like she's Ferelden…maybe she's one of those wacky refugees that seem to be cluttering up the place everywhere.

"Mess… Please, it's Davan. Every time someone addresses me that way I look over my shoulder to see if my father is there. Thankfully, he's not, but it's a never ending nightmare." Davan shivers to prove his point. Of course, Princess is going to give kisses to kissy face. She's the most affectionate animal EVER (because she's spoiled). "Well, at least let me assist you in putting your wardrobe back together. It's one thing to lose a home, but to lose your clothing?" Fate worse than DEATH.

Carys can't help but laugh at the shiver. "Fair 'nough," she says as she moves to stand up. She does hesitate to see if Princess will permit being picked up or if she's going to stramble for ground first. "Uh, are y'sure? I mean, it's not a problem. I make my own stuff." It doesn't realize she's /not/ making any better case here. "'Sides, I don't got any way t'pay y'back an' I'd feel bad for you havin' t'shell stuff out on account of me when I'm clad, warm an' happy! Can't ask for much more'n that, right?" There's that impish beaming grin again. OKay…she's probably too damn happy to be a refugee. Or she's on some really good stuff.

"Is he /really/ wicked?" Carys asks here, eyeing Davan carefully. It seems she doesn't quite subscribe to stereotypes because she doesn't /seem/ like she's automatically shying away from DAvan despite his claiming Tevinterness. And oh more kissy kissies. "'Cause if it's anythin' I'm for it's makin' bad rich people poorer." She's just… usually less LEGAL about it. "An' this little doll is absolutely adorable!" She must compliment Princess.

"Princess? Of course she is! She's my baby, aren't you darling?" Davan reaches out to run his fingers over the fox's fur. "Well, he owns slaves and I'm convinced half of their children are directly related to me. Is that evil enough for you? Because I could go on." He just isn't going to do it without need. "Besides, when he sees the clothing is for a woman he's either going to be overjoyed or completely appalled. I like to keep him guessing."

Can't help herself with that. Smirking, "Especially since you seem taken with the local sights. About six foot tall… shoulders out to here, absolutely winnin smile?" Those violet eyes are all a twinkle right now.

"You mean that absolute vision in armor? Smelled like a sweet shop? I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." Davan grins. "But yes. Him too. If I'd known they made them like that on Orlais, I would have stayed longer, but those masks. Such a waste of time."

It's probably a good thing she's got armful of cute and they're talking about awesome people, because she might backpedal on his conversation and rant and rave about the the slave situation of his dad. "Oh yes…, you should see him out of that armor." She pauses. "But still clothed. I haven't been /that/ lucky, but I met him when he was off duty an' thus in normal clothes." She snorts about Orlais and goes about giving Princess more kisses. and then…finally, the rest of the conversation clicks and she grumbles, "Your dad's a fuckhead." HOpefully she keeps the 'He should be stabbed repeatedly. IN PARTS' tone to a minimum.

Davan gives Carys an 'oh, if only' look and then laughs. "Well, he blushed enough to make me think he hasn't been seen out of his clothing in a while. It was rather cute." Princess? Oh she's the kissiest thing and she's so happy to have the attention that the bushy thing that is her tail thumps against the woman. "That's one of the terms you could use. We have an especially… tense… relationship. He wants me to marry and own slaves, I want him to shut up and stop being a … what was the word? Fuckhead? That's amazingly accurate."

Carys actually bristles slightly when the slave thing gets mentioned, and with the aforementioned 'children relation' thing, oh her mind is making all sorts of assumptions about how those slaves are treated that is likely /not/ an exaggeration. But she's deliberately keeping hereslf calm for Princess's sake because OH SO CUTE. "Where did you get this darling?" She asks before she nods. "Cenn's wonderful. He's like…almost too good t'be true…but he /is/ true. He's nice, considerate… he's not like some Templars I've encountered… he doesn't throw his weight around an' is really out to help people. In my mind, he's what Templars /should/ be. More should follow his example." They don't, obviously. And then she smirks. "I got a colorful vocabulary an' I save the best for people like him. I'm glad you seem t'be against that 'cause we'd be havin' words, even if I'm unarmed."

"Minrathous," Davan answers. "I found her in one of those appalling little exotics shops. She was ridiculously priced but she was such a tiny thing. So of course I bought her. Where I'm from, Templars are nothing like that. Strictly military. From what I'd heard all the Southern Templars were no better than armed jailors. It's good to see that's not entirely true. Besides, he's far too handsome to be despicable. My country should have the corner on that market." It's then that he frowns. "I'm nothing like him. You shouldn't be able to own another person." And that's all he's going to say about that because "We're talking about this when we could be looking at fabric. I think I know a stall you'd be happy with." So he's going to lead the way.

"Good," is all Carys says about Davan being like his father… or not. And she seems infinitely pleased by his comment that people should not be owned. "Oh you poor dear," she syas to princess. "Would you like to walk more?" She knows animals like to get their exercise though obviously Carys isn't put otu by carrying fluffy adorableness. "OH?" She follows ambly along, apparently very eager now to drain the funds of a raping slaver.

"Antivan tailoring. Pockets everywhere that can't be seen and my sister swears by the ease of movement. You seem the sort, and if you're going to be joining fun evenings like our last, you're going to need something that doesn't hold a stain." Blood. Davan is talking about blood. Princess? Nope, she's happy to be carried. Let's face it, she's the most pampered thing EVER.

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