Beat and Heat II

[Lesingnon]

Rick nodded slightly in response to Rita's rebuttal, a slight chuckle on his lips. "Ahh, you're worried about your skills getting rusty, then?"

And in response to her teasing, a shrug. "Well, yes, but war seems to be a bit more applicable to a bit of verbal sparring than love. So I stuck with that half of it. Gotta make sure you don't get too excited or anything."

And there was another chuckle at the word emphasized by her air quotes. Somehow, though, he wasn't surprised by that particular revelation. She certainly wasn't shy when it came to sex. And, well, having training take that route somehow just seemed like her. "Got it, so I guy has to watch himself if he ever spars with you...and make sure you're well and truly pinned, apparently. No matter how you try to distract him."

Then his second drink was finished, and Rick took a moment to glance around the club. Looked like the night's entertainment was starting to wind down, along with the night itself. "Well, looks like things are starting to wrap up here. But I'll keep in touch, okay? It's been fun. And i still definitely want to see your woo-, your work."

[Fisher]

"Rusty? Not really," she said with a shrug. "Maybe, more for hedonistic enjoyment? Life is short man...enjoy it before it kicks you in the teeth...or maybe curb stomps ya? Curb stomp? Yeah definitely curb stomp."

"Ok, I'll let ya slide on a technicality this time," Fisher said with a suspicious glance. "Excited? Please. Maybe run screaming the other direction though." She finished with a smile.

Despite her jovial mood her last comment, it hit a little too closer to home than she meant it to. Given her work, her life, her responsibilities finding someone that she could share it with was not a likely outcome...and she knew it. It was just far safer for everyone involved so that no one gets hurt because of her. Responsibility was her name and duty was her curse...her joy.

"Dang strait...I'm a scrappy, slippery little thing," Fisher said with a broad grin and grateful for the changing of the subject once more. Then suddenly realized her error. "Pfff...wait...I didn't mean that! Wiry...wiry little thing," Fisher finished defensively through snickers.

"I guess you're right. It is getting late. Here..." She said while grabbing a napkin and writing down a phone number. "This isn't the number for Pizza Express or anything... that's a good number too though...It's mine. Give me a call if you wanna hang out, be the butt of more teasing, or want some art done! Butt...pfff..." she said shaking her head in amusement.

[InvertedMonkey]

The ogress returns to the smith and the night goes on at The Forge. She emerges occasionally, to catch her breath, to chat, to drink a beer and get a bite to eat, to guide spectators through what the other smiths are demonstrating.

And while the night does go on, this is a demonstration, not a party. There is no energy from the band on stage, no desperate need to express your emotions through dance and scream, and rather lighter drinking. The evening comes to a close late, but far earlier than it might on a night when the stage was available. Still, the blacksmiths may now have more work, and the audience certainly has much to talk about.

Aaaaand, scene!

Thanks to everyone for making this Shard a resounding success. There were many of your PCs that I was very interested in having Ramona talk to, but didn't get the chance! I'm looking forward to doing another one of these some time.

No rolls, nothing made.