dishonests | ◤eudio, cuddlr◢

There are quite a few more people in the world in my time than there are in yours. Billions more, if that helps put how busy London is these days into perspective.

Yes. I suppose we are. Is that what you're here for? Or is that too bold of me to ask?

The chance of stealing a fortune, you mean.

Are you trying to flatter me, Captain?

I shudder to imagine the crowds.

[ it's one of those things he doesn't like to think about too closely for the sake of his sanity. he entertains it the way you would a fairy tale. ]

Nothing is too bold that comes from you. Aye, you could say that's why I'm here. Is it considered stealing when it's something that's been stolen in the first place? Flattery? No. I call it having two working eyes.

Edited (don't look at me) 2016-05-31 16:01 (UTC)

Imagine your open oceans instead. How many men do you keep on your ship, Captain?

And is your second chance in the same vein as my colleague's, or are you looking to right a wrong?

[ If Roxy were a cat, curiosity would have tried to kill her by now. Tried, being the key word. ]

I suppose that depends, doesn't it? Do you return your spoils to the person(s) they were originally stolen from, or do you keep them for yourself?

Well. Thank you. That's very kind of you.

[ that is a much more welcome thought. ] About sixty at a given time. Not all are men, though you would be challenged to discern the woman from the rest.

[ a pause. ]

The latter. Had they waited much longer to extend their invitation, it would have been the former. [ 'they' being the city representatives. ]

We keep them, of course. I would be more than happy to debate the morality of piracy in a broken political economy over a pint, or dinner if you're so inclined.

[ how's that for smooth. ]

Does it not ever feel crowded with that many bodies on board? I've never been on a tall ship before, so forgive me if I sound a bit silly asking. And I admit, I'm pleased to hear that it's not only men.

I see. Well, I'm glad they arrived when they did, then.

It would seem I am so inclined. Have you a favourite haunt?

[ Smooth like butter. ]

To be sure, there's not enough room below deck to swing a cat, and above deck can feel much the same. But I would take the ocean air over city air any day. Now who's flattering whom?

[ score. ]

There is a pub near the beach. However, I would not be opposed to a break in routine if you have another preference.

I suppose I'll just have to take your word that it's worth the cramped conditions.

Is it flattery to be grateful that a man I (apparently) once knew has not been met with an unfortunate end? I would think that decency more than anything else.

My preference is whatever you prefer. A pub near the beach is perfectly acceptable.

Edited 2016-05-31 18:09 (UTC)

Where I'm from people tend to care not a whit about the fates of strangers, even those to whom they would give a green check mark. But the pub it is.

[ pretend he sends her a name and approximate location — in words, since he hasn't quite mastered how to send locations via gps. ]

Shall I meet you there?

Well I'm not from where you're from, am I?

[ It's practically Roxy's job to care about the fates of strangers, to protect those who don't even know they need protecting. Sometimes, it just has less to do with the job. ]

Yes. I look forward to meeting you... again.

Certainly not.

[ it's a good thing. pirate towns have a way of training everyone to fend for themselves, and he wouldn't want roxy to lose that selfless quality. ]

Likewise, Miss Morton.

[ before she can berate him for using the formal title, he shuts off the video. if he were in the habit of using emoticons, he might have punctuated it with a cheeky ';)'. as it is, he just tucks his comm into his pocket and heads for the pub, which isn't far from his current location. ]

[ Eggsy had warned Roxy on her first day that she'd probably run into a number of people who would remember her from her previous stay in Eudio, but that she would have no memory of ever meeting. Knowing doesn't make it any less weird, however, and it doesn't make her feel any less guilty for having forgotten anyone, but there's no sense in fretting about it. What more can she do besides apologise and trying to reconnect?

Roxy isn't as close to the pub, as she lives a bit further into the city, so it takes her a bit longer to make her way there ( Cassidy's directions are clear enough, but it still would have been easier with an actual address ). She manages to find the place with little-to-no trouble, fortunately, and when she arrives, it only takes her a moment or two to spot him just outside.

His face isn't familiar to her in the way that it probably should be, but she recognizes him easily enough from the picture on his cuddlr and when she approaches him, it's with a polite and genuine smile as she reaches out to gently touch her fingers to his elbow. ]

Captain Hawking?

[ He's quite a bit taller than her - but then again, most people are -, so she has to tilt her chin up a bit to look at him properly. ]

[ seven months have passed in cassidy's world since the last time he was here. during that time, he often wondered whether eudio had been one long, vivid dream. more worrisome were the mornings where he awoke expecting to be in their beach-front squat, or the moments where he reached into his pocket for a futuristic communicator that wasn't there. gradually, those moments became few and far between. he fell back into the rhythms of his old life, consumed by his plans and ambitions. so, being in eudio again is strange for him too. not in the way it is for roxy, but strange nonetheless.

rediscovering old, familiar things — the creature comforts of a past life — helps somewhat. places like the pub. people like roxy, even if she doesn't remember him. their friendship was fleeting enough that becoming acquainted all over again won't feel that odd.

while he waits for her, he leans against the side of the building, smoking a pipe that looks like it belongs in a museum. he's forgone the frock coat for the day, though he's still decked out in his usual accessories: necklaces hanging down the v of his loose-fitting white shirt, gold studs in his earlobes, and rings on several of his fingers. absent, too, are his pistol and cutlass, though there's still a dirk tucked into one of his boots.

when he catches sight of roxy, he returns her smile with one of his own, releasing the smoke from the corner of his mouth. the pipe is tamped out and tucked into a leather pouch on his belt. then he takes the hand that touched his elbow gently in his and raises it to his lips, bowing slightly as he presses a kiss there. gentleman-like. ]

Miss Morton. [ this time, she can hear the teasing inflection in the words. ] It's a pleasure to see you.

[ he leaves off the 'again' for her sake. ]

As lovely as you appear in that tiny picture [ he means the device screen ], you're even lovelier in person.

[ Roxy has met her fair share of interesting people in her life, encountered things she never thought she'd face (like, for instance, the potential end of the world... via cell phone), but Cassidy is probably the most interesting person she's ever had the pleasure of meeting - so far. It's not every day that you can chat up a pirate captain from the 18th century over what seems like a tamer (and, perhaps, more sophisticated) version of Tindr.

Taking a moment to look him over as he takes her hand, Roxy makes a note of the smaller details, her eyes drifting from the glint of gold in his ears to the chains decorating his neck, all the way to the rings on his fingers. When he bows his head down so that he can press a kiss to the backs of her knuckles, she tilts her head just a fraction to the side, the corner of her mouth turning up a bit with the faintest of smiles. The formal use of her name, however, has her narrowing her eyes just slightly - not because she's upset by it, but because she's noting the teasing lilt in his tone.

Charming, but still cheeky.

Roxy curls her fingers under his hold a little, enough to acknowledge his greeting, and then finds herself smiling with a quiet laugh. ]

Thank you, that's very kind. I could very well say the same for you. A small photo and a character limit does you very little justice, Captain.

[ It's one thing to say you're a pirate from hundreds of years ago, but it's an entirely different thing to actually somewhat look the part, to be one. Even without the iconic frock, even without knowing beforehand, Roxy probably would have pegged him for being... out of place. Out of time - but not necessarily in a bad way.

She tilts her head toward the pub, her brows raising a little. ]

Well - shall we, then?

[ considering the sundry persons that inhabit the city, to be counted among the most interesting would please him far too much, if he knew. roxy, when he met her the first time, interested him quite a bit, but he never got to know her as well as he would've liked. in his many years of sailing and pirating, he's learned as much about the world as he has about the different types of people that populate it. some people are exactly on the inside as they appear on the outside; roxy is not one of them, and he suspects there's not just one, but several facets to her that he's yet to uncover.

in the meantime, he's more than content to appreciate the outside. his compliment to her wasn't empty flattery. sometimes he likes to imagine the women he meets here in the fashion of his time, but as beautiful as roxy would look in a dress with a tapered bodice and long, billowing skirt, her clothing now somehow has the same effect. for his part, he could make a greater effort to blend in — if he wanted to. but even after becoming accustomed to jeans and joggers and t-shirts, he still favors his own style of clothing. after all, in his world, the (stolen) finery is a point of pride as well as a political statement, and he takes great joy in flaunting it.

at her compliment, his grin widens 'charming but cheeky' is essentially his modus operandi. ]

All's the better that we met in person, now, aren't it? [ releasing her hand, he moves to the side to open the door. ] Let's to it. After you, missy.

[ once they're inside, cassidy leads them to the bar, nudging someone else aside to make room. there's an empty table nearby they can occupy once they have their drinks. he has to raise his voice slightly above the din when he turns to her and asks, ] What be your poison?

Edited (doop doop don't mind me) 2016-06-08 00:24 (UTC)

[ To be fair, Roxy's only met a handful of people in the month or so that she's been in the city, but that doesn't make Cassidy any less interesting. It's the fact that he's relatable — in the sense that he doesn't seem as far-fetched as some of the other volunteers she's met (vampires, shadowhunters, synthezoids, etc), that it's possible only centuries separate them and not an entire universe — that makes him so intriguing.

Then again, Roxy also finds Charlie Hesketh to be a rather interesting person, but more in the sense that she's fascinated that he's managed to live twenty some-odd years without someone punching his perfect teeth in. Fortunately, her fascination with Cassidy is of an entirely different kind.

Roxy tips her head in thanks as he gets the door, stepping in and allowing him to lead only for the fact that she's never been here before and he has. She follows him easily, easing in beside him and resting her hands against the curved edge of the bar. ]

Would it be cliché, [ She starts, then realizes she's going to have to speak a bit louder. She lifts one hand from the bar, touching her fingers to the back of his bicep as she presses up onto her toes and leans in just a bit so she doesn't have to shout. ] Would it be cliché if I said a martini?

[ Roxy presses her lips together lightly and sinks back down onto flat feet, letting her fingers fall away from his arm as she tries to suppress a soft smirk. ]

Edited 2016-06-08 01:54 (UTC)

[ relatable isn't easy to come by in a place like this. the time travel concept was tricky enough to wrap his head around, but different dimensions and half-humans are ones he still struggles with. his coping method has been to take everything anyone says with a grain of salt, or to treat it like an abstraction or a tall tale. sailors love to deal in tall tales. the real challenge is when the physical evidence is right in front of his eyes. so it's a relief when he meets someone who's merely human, even if they do come from a time that's centuries past his own.

and when that mere human also happens to be an attractive woman, it's an even easier thing to digest. even if she wears blue jeans and orders drinks he'd never heard of before coming to the city.

he laughs, either in response to her question or her smirk, or both. his thoughts linger a moment too long on that casual touch. cliché. the word is about a century beyond his time, but he gained a sense of its meaning his first time in eudio. especially as it was used in reference to him. ] I reckon it might be, [ her tone told him as such, ] but the lady always gets as the lady wants.

[ he places an order for a martini and a rum and coke. even though standing at the bar would be the perfect excuse for more casual touching, cassidy takes them instead to the empty table he eyed before once their drinks are in hand. and once they each have their own, cassidy raises his glass in a toast. ]

Here's to friendship, new and old.

[ It's taken Roxy a little bit of time to adjust to the rules and the exceptions and the impossibilities of Eudio itself, but it helps that she's got an open mind, that she has friends here to keep her in check and tell her she's not off her head when she comes across something that wouldn't happen or exist in the world she comes from. It also helps that she's seen the impossible here with her own two eyes in the form of one Harry Hart - a man who should be dead, but isn't by whatever miracle (and she's glad for it).

A pirate seems far less impossible than a werewolf or a vampire or a half-angel, even if said pirate would have and should have died hundreds of years before she'd ever have the chance to meet him outside of Eudio. Or maybe she's just making an exception for him for the simple fact that he's kind and charming and admittedly handsome — it's difficult to tell.

Roxy follows him away from the bar, navigating her way around the pub's other patrons with relative ease and grace, and when they sit she accepts her drink from him with a subtle nod of thanks, her fingers fanned out under the cone of her glass. She tilts her head a little as he raises his glass and raises hers in turn, smiling a little at his toast and looking at him over their hands. ]

... I'll drink to that. Cheers.

[ She smirks, sips from her drink, and then sets it down on the table, her thumb and index lightly pinching the thin stem near the base, her other hand in her lap. She looks up, seems to study Cassidy quietly for a moment, her eyes following the glint of all of his jewelry, and then she wets her lips. ]

So - this isn't the first time you've been here. In the city, I mean - obviously not here. [ She pauses, tilts her head. ] How long were you here for last time?

[ as he tips his glass against his lips, he takes slightly more than a sip. the saccharine, faintly chemical taste of coke is one to which he's grown accustomed between this time and his first time in eudio. one of the earliest lessons a sailor learns is not to be picky about his choice of drink. the drinks he's had in this city, strange though some of them have seemed, have been by and large improvements over the drinks of his time ( which have on occasion included stale water, raw eggs, tobacco, and gunpowder ). his drinking partners here also tend to be improvements over those in his time.

he may not understand the culture surrounding the martini, but it seems to suit roxy somehow. for a brief moment, he's distracted by her fingers around the base of the glass stem. his gaze returns to her face just in time to catch the sight of her tongue between her lips. that, as it turns out, is even more of a distraction. he raises his glass once again to hide the way his mouth curves at the corners.

as he considers the answer to her question, his eyes wander to a distant corner of the pub. in light of recent events, his sense of time has become a little fuzzy. he taps his fingers on the side of his glass, counting the months, before glancing at roxy. ] Nigh half a year, if I recollect. The last weeks was spent at sea, exploring the small islands that be surrounding this one, and the like.

[ after that, it gets even fuzzier. he went to sleep one night in his small boat; the next morning he woke up on his ship. ]

Since then, seven months have came and went. It's like as I blinked, and by my blood, here I be, back in this strange place.

[ Due to her profession - her actual profession and not the one she claims and uses as a front -, Roxy's made a habit of noticing the finer details, had the practice drilled into her in the small amount of military training she went through, and then perfected it during her time in Kingsman. So the small quirk of Cassidy's lips doesn't necessarily go unnoticed, even with his drink positioned near-perfectly to hide it, but she doesn't bring attention to it either since she's not quite sure of the reason for it. But it's noted.

Her gaze drops to his fingers again as they drum lightly against the side of his glass, drawn by the movement and the dull glitter of his rings, though her distraction is very brief and she forces herself to look Cassidy in the eye when he speaks, giving him her attention. Her brows draw together slowly as more questions begin to form, but she sorts them quickly and prioritises.

Roughly six months is a fairly long time to live anywhere that's not home. To be away from people you care about, to be away from what you know. But it's not the longest she's heard of anyone being here - Eggsy's been here for a year, apparently. And though Eudio is similar to London in some ways and not similar at all in others, she's glad to have Eggsy here. One less thing to miss, one more thing to make it feel like home. Harry and Merlin help, too.

Roxy glances away briefly to collect her thoughts. ] Nearly half a year, and seven months in between then and now. And you remember all of it, while I have no recollection of anything at all of this place.

[ It's not accusatory, not (terribly) suspicious, she's just - talking out loud, voicing her intrigue and curiosity, trying to work out a reason why she can't remember anything while also trying to accept that she's never going to find a reason at all. For a girl who likes to be on top of and aware of most things, the thought is a little unsettling.

But at least she's decent at keeping most of that out of her expression.

Carefully, she reaches out, her fingers pressing lightly around his glass as she lifts it and shifts it over an inch or two onto one of the few paper coasters left scattered on the table, and says nothing of it as she draws her hand back and lets it settle at the base of her own glass. She tilts her head and presses her lips together, seeming to pause or hesitate for a moment before she asks: ]

Did you get what you wanted? When you left. Whatever it was that you asked for - did they give it to you?

[ compared to some of the volunteers, cassidy's first time in eudio was brief. but it was far longer than he'd planned on spending in the city. the real danger of a place like this was that a person could grow so complacent they forgot why they came in the first place. the moment he realized that was the moment he also realized he had to leave, even at the risk of losing whatever memories he'd made. there had been too much at stake for him back home, and he may be guilty of many things, but failing in his duties to his crew is not one.

( not purposefully, at least. )

he watches her slide his glass onto a coaster, and this time he doesn't hide his grin. in his time, a coaster is a type of sailing vessel, and water rings on tables are the least of people's concerns. he wishes he had an explanation for her amnesia — why she doesn't remember being here before and he does — partly so he could ease her worry, but mostly because he doesn't like being in the dark. they're alike in that sense.

but if her memory loss makes him at all anxious, he hides it well. what he fails to hide is the way his expression turns a shade more sober at her question. when he lifts his glass to take another drink, the paper coaster flutters, stuck to the bottom.

he swipes the back of his hand across his mouth before he answers. ] Aye, to be sure. The items what were stolen from me were returned forthwith, God rot the bones of the sneaking leech who stole them. [ the last part is said with considerable heat. he downs a little more of his drink, then thunks it on the table and looks at roxy. ] Thing of it is, the world's full of scugs and Judases, Miss Morton, and it's thanks to their like that I be here again.

[ he lifts his glass again in a mock toast, before draining it until less than an inch remains at the bottom. his smile is a knife, sharp and pointed. he wants to ask if she received her incentive when she went back, but of course she wouldn't know. so he says instead, ]

If I may make so bold, what manner of trouble brung you here?

[ Roxy's brow lifts a fraction of an inch, just a small upward tick at the way his tone shifts when he talks about what he was last here for. It's interesting to her that he'd be so passionate about something being stolen from him when he was just talking about the benefits of stealing from other people, but she makes no comment on that just yet. It's different, she supposes, when it's being done to you - even if she doesn't entirely agree with that sentiment.

She doesn't know what a scug is, but the reference to Judas is enough for her to make inferences and piece together a basic idea of the reason for Cassidy's second visit to the city - betrayal. Roxy watches him finish his drink and takes a careful sip of her own, her eyes focused on him over the rim of her glass even as he smiles at her.

As she lowers her drink back onto the table, she considers her answer, picking at the peeling edge of a coaster with the edge of her thumbnail. She glances away only briefly, down at her hand, and then offers a small shrug of her shoulders and a soft smile as she looks back up.

It's not bold, not to her, but that doesn't mean she isn't about to consider lying to him. Which is unfortunate only in the fact that she doesn't actually want to lie to him for whatever reason, but being completely honest would lead to questions which would lead to more careful lying to protect Kingsman and everyone in it. ]

I want to save the world. [ She says it quietly, makes it sound like she's joking or being ironic, and the way she smiles makes it almost that convincing. It's the truth, in a sense. Roxy and Eggsy and Merlin may have already saved the world once, but not before thousands if not millions were injured or killed because Valentine thought making everyone kill each other would somehow make the world a better place. That's what she wants to prevent.

But it's not the only thing she asked for, and this she can say with a bit more ease, like this is her real answer. ] I asked for the protection of my family.

[ no one sees themselves the villain of their own story. pirates are no exception. they all have things they tell themselves so they can sleep at night, some of them possibly even justifiable. in this instance, cassidy wouldn't have been so incensed about being robbed if the items taken from him hadn't been his most valuable, and if the person who took them hadn't been someone he used to care about greatly. the crime against him, in addition to thwarting his carefully laid plans, stirred up the pain and humiliation of an old betrayal. it left him in such a state of desperation that when he was offered a way to fix it, he took it.

and it was fixed as promised. for a while, it seemed like everything was going to turn out all right. but maybe that was just cassidy showing his age. either way, it was that false sense of security that landed him right back here, asking a steeper favor than last time.

but he tamps all that down. roxy's presence helps, as does the alcohol ( of which he's going to need more, very soon ). for now, he swirls the little bit of dark liquid that remains at the bottom of his glass as he listens to roxy's answer. the first one makes him smile, more of a smirk, really, but it's happier and more amused than the one before it. he never got much of her story before; some things, it seems, never change. he's just going to have to try a little harder.

at the second answer, what seems to be the true answer, his look softens. he leans forward, one of his necklaces — the only one not made of gold and silver, with a heavy pendant on it — dangling in the v of his shirt. ] That's a nobler venture, if you ask me, lass. Most the world's not worth saving, you see.

[ sitting back again, he downs the very last of his drink. ]

Pray tell me, what is it they're needing protection from?

[ Roxy's eyes are drawn by the subtle movement of his necklace as it swings forward and stands out from all the rest, framed in the collar of his shirt. There's nothing particularly interesting about it by itself, save for the fact that it's not quite as.. glittery as the rest of his jewelry. Or maybe it is interesting, and that's the exact reason why.

Roxy doesn't linger on it for too long. She look up at him again, her eyes narrowing slightly, not necessarily out of annoyance but perhaps a point of disagreement. She doesn't say anything right away, taking a moment instead to consider and acknowledge that he's welcome to his own opinion, and that his view may be influenced by the ways of his own time. ]

Why do you say that? That most of the world's not worth saving. Everyone is worth saving, to someone. There are far more good people than there are bad in the world, and I'd rather save the entire world than watch it all fall to pieces because a handful of people in the scope of millions don't know how to appreciate a human life.

[ Which is a difficult thing to say truthfully, because Roxy is not innocent of killing people by any means. She may not have been the one in Valentine's base, fighting off his men by any means necessary (that was Eggsy), and she may not have been the one to reverse the purpose of the microchips Valentine had inserted into the heads of every person he considered 'worth saving' (that was Merlin), but she was still a part of the team who made those calls, so it still falls on her shoulders in a way. And had she been Merlin or Eggsy, she probably wouldn't have done anything differently. It's her job to protect those who need protecting, and to take out anyone who threatens to shake the foundations.

But she's not really looking to argue too much, and she doesn't seem particularly angry or passionate in her opinion, but she's always been good about guarding herself. They're out for a drink and to reestablish a forgotten friendship, not to argue about what's really worth it.

Roxy twirls her glass slowly by the stem. His question about her family is a bit complicated to answer. What they need protection from is, essentially, herself. Not her, directly, but what she is, what she's a part of could very well put them in danger if she were to slip up around the wrong person, and she's very aware of that. Kingsman has gone almost a hundred years without anyone knowing who and what they are, but if anyone were to ever truly discover any of their identities, the easiest way to gain any sort of control would be to go for one of their families. Roxy may not be terribly close to hers, but she's not sure if she would be able to hold herself together if anything were to ever happen to any of them because of her. ]

The world. [ She shrugs a shoulder, takes another small sip from her drink. Pauses. Takes another sip, not so small. ] Nothing specific. Things happen to people all the time. Everyone wants to protect the people they care about, don't they?

[ Roxy offers a smile, tries to keep things lighthearted so he has no reason to question her further or suspect her of being something other than what she claims to be. She sits forward then, reaching out with one hand to gesture to the pendant hanging at his collar, her fingers hovering but not touching. ]

Does this have any sort of significance?

[ after their text conversation about the ethics of piracy, it's only natural that their face to face conversation would take a similar path. cassidy can't say he's sorry for it, either; he likes hearing her talk, and part of him enjoys the thrill of debate. they're separated by more than just a table. they're separated by three hundred years, by differing circumstances that led him to become a pirate fighting against his country and her an agent fighting in service of her country ( not that he knows that part — yet ). there's always bound to be things upon which they disagree. it's part of what makes her so interesting.

he arches a brow, though the hint of a smile remains on his lips. ] That'd be so? You're an honest lass, I grant it. [ he doesn't mean truthful, but rather good and decent. ] Maybe there be more good than bad people, as you say. For my part, I think not of people as good or bad. From whence I come, people be rich or desperate, and far more of them's desperate as not. No one thinks of saving everyone else who can't hardly feed or clothe hisself. [ he pauses, then tips his hand. ] Or, herself. You see?

[ it's a reference, once again, to the broken economy of the post-war world he inhabits. a world where there are more orphaned children on the streets than animals, where men and young boys are press-ganged onto navy ships, where sailors are paid shit wages and treated worse, and wealthy merchants sell men, women, and children like cargo. a world where honest people, by any definition of the word, don't normally last long.

these reasons still might not justify piracy in roxy's eyes, but they might shed some light on it at any rate. if their situations were reversed, maybe roxy still wouldn't have made the choices cassidy did. maybe there are good and bad people, and she's one type and he's the other.

at the very least, he's not terrible enough for her to quit his company. that's all that matters for the moment. her answer again brings that smirk to his lips. ] The world, is it? Be that the very world you're wanting to save? [ even if her answer weren't vague, he would know she's not being entirely candid. she always did seem to be hiding something. maybe she'll be more forthcoming with the truth after a few more martinis.

besides, it's not like she's the only one that's hiding things. he doesn't stop her from reaching across the table for his pendant, though there's a subtle shift in his expression. it's a locket, really, though that might not be readily apparent from the outside. ]

This trinket? [ pinching the pendant between his fingers, he glances down at it for a moment. ] To someone, perhaps. I... unburdened a poor captain of it after his ship fall victim to a roving bunch of bloody rogues.

[ with a wink, he pushes his empty glass aside and scoots his chair back, so he and his pendant are out of roxy's reach. ]

Care you for another drink?

[ Roxy can't even really begin to understand what it's like to live in the century he does - all she knows is from history books, taught to her in school, but there's a difference between reading about something and being in the center of it. Her London is not the same as his and it never will be, and perhaps that's why she chooses not to argue with him too intensely.

Lifting her chin a little, she eyes him curiously, taking a small sip from her glass as she tries to figure out what she wants to say to him, what she wants to ask. ]

I can understand that, I think. But I also feel like life would become so lonely, only looking after oneself. And at what point does loneliness become more unbearable than surviving?

[ Roxy's not trying to pretend like she has any idea what it's like to be desperate in the sense that Cassidy means - she's been very fortunate in that she's never really had to want for anything, born with a silver spoon 'up her arse' as Eggsy once said to Harry about people like him and herself -, she just wants to understand the reasoning behind his own argument.

She glances up, the corners of her mouth curling into a soft smile, teetering on the edge of a smirk, perhaps to match his. She's aware that her answers kind of contradict with one another - she wants to save the world, but also wants to save her family from it which suggests that maybe the world isn't actually worth the effort of saving. ]

Yes. Saving the world is a pretty steep request, isn't it? So I opted for the more sensible option.

[ Not entirely true, but Roxy's not here to divulge every little detail about herself tonight, probably ever. She sips from her drink again, finishing it off and setting it back down on the nearest coaster, sliding the glass a little off to the side so it's out of the way.

When he winks and his explanation for how he came into owning the pendant sinks in, she laughs, shaking her head at him. ]

Unburdened. Please - you stole it, you bloody rogue. [ She may sound a bit disapproving, but there's still a faint sense of playfulness to her tone. She makes a small gesture with one hand. ] Go on then, why not? I'll have the same as you this time, though.

◤eudio, cuddlr◢

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a-a-action? y/n

y!

♥

sorry for the delay, i was moving :c

no worries!! i hope the move went well c:

it was tiring! but i'm glad it's all done c:

that's good! time to celebrate ┌(・。・)┘♪

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