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taxonomites2010-06-22 03:19 pm
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03: [Location: Caritas] + [Accidental Visual] Preparing for the Storm
It's during the day and Caritas is technically closed right now. Casey's been moving the crates of booze up from the basement to the main floor. It's tiring work and he's due for a break. His black tee shirt is starting to cling to his back and he could do with a damned coke. Still, Lorne's been hurrying the whole bunker idea along and Casey trusts that if the demon thinks the sky's gonna start falling soon, it's time to start battening down the hatches.
He sets a crate down and pauses, reaching behind himself to work out a crick in his back. He's not getting any younger.
[OOC: Mainly for all the peeps wanting to help fortify Caritas, but open really to anyone who wants to drop by or troll Casey *wink*]
He sets a crate down and pauses, reaching behind himself to work out a crick in his back. He's not getting any younger.
[OOC: Mainly for all the peeps wanting to help fortify Caritas, but open really to anyone who wants to drop by or troll Casey *wink*]
[ visual ]
"You know my father had similar back pain and her received a poultice from a physician to help with it," Guinevere says, paying little mind to the implications of her statement until after it has left her mouth. "Uhm, n-not that you're old...er. Not that you're my father's age-- I don't think that."
She resists the sudden urge to inquire just how old he is and sticks to looking completely uncomfortable instead.
[ visual ]
He gives her a baleful kinda look.
"Yeah, thanks. I'll keep that in mind. Just how old do you think I am?"
He stops short of asking how old her father was.
[ visual ]
"You're clearly established and well into a career," she says, keeping her eyes on his as she speaks. "It's clear to me you're beyond the years of my peers, as they are considered boys where I am from."
Comparing him to her father is the last thing she wishes to do and is quite glad he didn't sneak him into his question.
[ visual ]
Nice attempt at a save, there Gwen. Is that what she thinks of him as? Some kind of surrogate father figure?
He looks down for a moment, his hand going to his belt.
"That didn't answer my question. How about this one: how old are you?"
[ visual ]
Upon hearing his she can't help but be a little shocked. It is a very forward question, even if she is a servant girl, and she wonders if this is one of the differences between how men and women relate where he is from. She can't help but assume this is more about his own pride than anything, and if there's one thing about Guinevere, she's not one to go out of her way to mend wounded pride.
She conveniently shifts her gaze away.
"If you must know, I am 20."
[ visual ]
Since she's not asking, he's not gonna volunteer.
"Okay then."
He glances around at the crates, looking for an excuse to cut this conversation short. Still, he knows it'd be kinda rude.
"It was just a twinge. It's not like I have a bad back all the time. I'm fit. I work out."
[ visual ] ugh Internet died. Have to do this from my phone
"Right, no... I did not mean to say that you weren't. It's very obvious you're fit. Don't think I've ever met another quite as... Strong looking. Even knights." it was no big secret that Casey was quite tall and rather muscular, but that didn't make her trying to explain it any easier. She lets out a defeated sigh and lowers her head to hide heR embaressed flush. Visual was a poor choice.
"I should leave you to your work, Casey. John."
[ visual ] /hugs
"Good to know I could probably hold my own if I had to. Not that I'm looking to be a knight or anything. Just, yeah, doesn't sound bad, is all."
[ visual ]
"You could. I'm sure of it." There's a pause and she fidgets some before she continues. "Right, well, I wont delay you any further."
[ visual ]
[ visual ]
"O-oh well, of course. I have something I was finishing at the Smithy but I should be free after?"
[ visual ]
Casey shuts it off quickly. He's old enough to be her father. He's old enough to be her father. He needs to keep telling himself that.
Still, he'd be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he looked forward to the times they did share a meal. Talked about the smithy. How Morgana was doing. How his shifts at Caritas had gone.
He'd never had as simple a life as he did right now. And even though he still needed more than that, a deeply buried part of him was content.