2017-03-25: Smoke Break

• Log: Smoke Break
• Cast: Josephine Lovelace, Jude Moshe
• Where: Adlehyde - Town Center
• Date: March 25th, 2017
• Summary: Josephine and Jude meet up in an alleyway and have a smoke. They not at all convolutedly discuss a pair of Drifters. A donkey is promised.

<Pose Tracker> Josephine Lovelace has posed.

This isn't a good part of town.

Sure, comparatively, it's not all that bad -- Josie's been to some real dives in Bledavik and a few of the other more unfortunate towns scattered across Aveh. The seedy side of Adlehyde's capital city isn't /that/ bad. Still, a girl gets an understanding of the gradations within a city with enough experience, and the difference is still clear enough.

Besides, with all the people in town for the festival /and/ the fact that she's already had her wallet stolen once... well. It's a great place to grease some palms for information though.

Unfortunately, it's started to rain -- not too hard, just a passing storm by the look of it -- but still enough that she's opting to take shelter. Ducking into a narrow alleyway sheltered by the overhanging roofs of the surrounding buildings, she's just catty-corner from a /totally/ separate bar from the one she got involved in a barfight in weeks back. It's better not to ask, honestly.

Agitated, Penelope abandons Josie's shoulder for a nearby discarded-and-broken ladder to preen irritatedly. "What, did you get wet too?" Josie asks, leaning heavily against the wall. She shrugs, and shakes her head. "Might as well take a break too, huh." Fishing in her bag, she extracts matches and a cigar, and lights up.

It's not so bad, taking a smoking break like this. Hmm. Someone's posted up some wanted posters on the opposite wall. Josie squints.

...Is... that Lily?

<Pose Tracker> Jude Moshe has posed.

There are certainly places in the world worse than this. There are certainly places even in Ignas worse than this; one need only visit the slums of Nortune, where every day is a struggle for survival, to confirm that fact. But everything's relative, in the end.

And to say this place is seedy, by the standards of the kingdom of Adlehyde, is perhaps understating things with that notion in mind.

Still -- unpleasant as this place may be, it's a good source for a variety of things that one can't find anywhere else in Adlehyde's capital. One is simply a good assessment of current events in the region -- it's hard to get a good picture of such things from the average layperson alone. Who's come, who's gone -- who might be worth keeping an eye on. It's a good way to keep one's fingers on the pulse of the community, even for a city as big as Adlehyde.

The other, of course, is a good and ready source of cheap booze.

Ostensibly, the latter is why Jude Moshe is here today, leaning against the bar wall just across from Josephine Lovelace's impromptu shelter. Red hair matted down from the mild persistence of the rain, the would-be journalist is currently in the midst of reading something, delivered to him by what looked, by all accounts, to be a messenger bird: a simple, crisply creased sheet of paper, stained slightly with the droplets of pitter-pattering rainfall that currently blot out the sky as a thoughtful frown creases the man's lips. Ultimately, he heaves a sigh, looks up towards that gray-smudged sky, and squints.

"Yep. Pain in my ass. As predicted."

Ultimately, that paper is crumpled up; Moshe hardly even pays it any mind as he stuffs that balled up letter into his pants pocket. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looks intent to make his way back to the bar... but something catches the corner of his eye. The light of a cigar against the gloom of the passing stormclouds. A woman. Squinting at...

"... Huh."

Josephine Lovelace does not go alone in her smoke break. Not for long. As she enjoys her cigar, as she processes the sight of the young woman plastered on that wanted poster, a voice, mild and relaxed, peeps up from just behind her:

"Hey there, miss. Sorry -- but mind helping a stranger in need?"

And there, easing into the wall shoulder-first, stands Jude Moshe, an easy, friendly smile forging a nonchalant path across his lips in a way almost apologetic for interfering with Josephine's alone time. The reason why becomes a bit more clear as he waggles a single cigarette between his middle and index fingers.

"You'll be my personal hero if you say you've got a light to spare."

His words are warm, his demeanor relaxed. Which makes the way his brows lift up just a bit as he seems to catch that poster from the corner of his eye seem just that much more sincere -- as sincere as they way his lips part in seeming confusion at the sight of that portrait plastered on the wall.

"Huh. Is that Lily--?"

He sounds so very surprised.

He's not, but.

At least he sells it well.

"Wow. She seemed so nice, too."

Memories flicker back of her setting his clothes on fire in an attempt to cremate him.

He sighs, so very forlornly. "That's a damn shame."

<Pose Tracker> Josephine Lovelace has posed.

Peeling away from her comfortable position up against the wall, Josie inspects the wanted poster more closely. ...No doubt about it, that's Lily. ...That's a pretty high bounty on her head, too. 'Terrorist commando', huh.

It occurs to Josephine in that instant that she doesn't actually know all that much about Lily. Or Leon, for that matter. Then again, she hadn't really asked. Fair's fair, she supposes -- as another young woman had put it to her, everyone has their secrets. Folding her right arm against her chest, she rests that hand loosely on the opposing upper arm. The corner of her mouth dips slightly downwards as she takes a contemplative drag. Hmm.

Only to start, if just for a second, as someone comes up from behind. Her about face comes soon after. Assuming a more open but neutral posture than before, she glances up those few fractions of a degree, meeting his gaze. "Oh, hello there! I didn't see you." Her gaze travels a short distance south, to the object he holds between his fingers. Understanding floods into her gaze. Aha. She smiles, knowingly.

"Caught without a light, are we? Well, I can't say no to being someone's hero over this," she says, shoulders rising and falling in a shrug. "One second." It takes a little shuffling of cigar and the once-again retrieved matchbook -- she should get a lighter again someday. A match flares quickly here out of the drizzling rain. She holds it out with as much flourish as she can (which isn't much, honestly, just a slight roll of the fingers of her right hand), smiling a little crookedly at him. "Here you go~"

White eyebrows knot as she watches the change in his expression. "Hmm?" Something's caught his eye? She turns her head slightly, glancing out of the corner of her eye back at the wall. Her attentions back on him, her brow more lined than before. Concern, perhaps. "...You know her?"

...Perhaps he's someone else who worked with Lily?

<Pose Tracker> Jude Moshe has posed.

'I didn't see you.'

"Guess I've just got a natural talent for blending in to the scenery, huh?" Jude Moshe jokes without so much as missing a beat; his expression apologetic for Josephine's brief startlement but his posture loose and ineffably relaxed, he strikes a casually friendly air as easily and naturally as most take to breathing.

Perhaps it's why his good-natured smile so easily takes a turn for the lopsidedly hapless as he runs a hand through his damp mess of dark red hair. "Not sure if I should be happy about that or not. Maybe it's time to start reevaluating my whole life."

Those quips come as easily as the cigarette that dips just briefly enough into Josephine's personal space to catch that tongue of flame once her match is struck. Tobacco glows with heated orange embers as Jude rolls that stick in the flames and then brings it to his lips, taking a brief draw of it before turning his head aside to heave the smokey aftermath out with a contented sigh.

"Thanks, you're a life saver," he asides, with all due gravitas for the declaration, offset only by the careless amusement that touches at the fringes of his expression. "I'll be sure to repay off this great debt to you, one day, miss. This I swear."

The cheeky, two-fingered salute off his temple doesn't really sell the seriousness of his tone. But at least he makes the effort.

Not that there's much time to dwell on it. No -- Jude's attention is soon on that poster, such that he at least pretends not to notice the crease of something like concern lining at Josie's brow. His own knot inward with something approaching scruples without ever quite fully committing to the leap.

"Huh? Oh -- uh, yeah. Yeah, I do. She helped me out of a jam a little while back. Her and her boyfriend. I think he was her boyfriend, anyway -- kinda got that vibe, y'know? That 'adorable sweethearts' vibe." Air quotes go... here. "Anyway, I wanted to thank them properly, but..." His shoulders lift in a helpless roll of a shrug, palms lifting skyward. "They kinda split before we got the chance to really chat. Makes a bit more sense now, I guess, but it's still too bad." He looks Josephine's way, his smile almost sad, in its own way. Almost.

"Good kids. A little uptight--" Memories of Leon yelling at him to wear his shirt correctly while trying to skewer him with an energy sword. "--but good kids." He looks back at that wanted poster, and whistles.

"Someone must really want 'em bad with a bounty like that, though. Eesh. Wish I could help 'em out. They seemed a little in over their heads." Really.

<Pose Tracker> Josephine Lovelace has posed.

"No, no, that was pretty good," Josie says, gesturing expansively with her faintly smoking cigar. "You got me with my guard down and everything."

Just a few feet away, Penelope fluffs out her feathers. For no reason.

She looks him over again, in appraisal. "Hmm, perhaps you should consider a little light thievery, then? Though, if you robbed me I wouldn't forgive you~" Her tone is light, but there's something about that smile, the one that even meets her eyes. She's not /really/ joking about that.

Shaking out the match shortly thereafter, she drops what's little more than a smoldering bit of wood to the ground, shifting a foot just long enough to grind it into the dust. Her gaze settles on him again, and her lips part just barely in a slight smile to watch him. Well, she knows /that/ feeling.

It only broadens when he jokingly vows to repay this life debt, so to speak. "Sure thing, I'll know just who to ask if I find myself in dire need of a light," she says, only just stifling a good-natured laugh.

His attention -- and thus hers -- soon shifts.

Affecting semi-casual contemplation of him and his statement, her gaze is steady, focused attentively upon him. "A jam, huh?" Tapping the fingers of her right hand absently against her pantleg, she soon nods as he explains the circumstances of how he met the two of them. "It's a shame, isn't it? I'm all for kids getting out and about when they're still young, but... Well, it could be a misunderstanding." She shrugs, the movement itself small, and shakes her head. "Seems like they're in a lot of trouble, though." Shaking some of the ash off the end of her cigar, she continues, "Hey, maybe you'll luck out and catch up to them? That would be a stroke of luck."

It's not that he's not convincing. Everything about his words and his body language seems on the level -- it's all quite reasonable. It's just... A little too convenient. Especially for her, especially now.

She glances away at last, taking a long and enjoyable drag before looking back at Jude. "Tell you what," she says, gesturing outwards with the cigar, "I'll let her know you were asking if I happen to run into her. I feel a little bad for her, honestly..." She smiles, ruefully. It's so sad. "It's tough enough eloping with your boyfriend without also having a price on your head."

Her dark eyes widen slightly, and as if only now realizing it, she asks, "My apologies, what did you say your name was? I'm Josephine Lovelace. An archaelogist, just in town for the festival." A pause. "But please, call me Josie." Passing her cigar off to her right hand, she extends the left towards Jude.

<Pose Tracker> Jude Moshe has posed.

The pigeon fluffs expansively. Amber eyes flit to her for a brief moment.

The way Jude waves to Penelope is just about as personably as he would a human being, complete with a simple, "Yo," to cap it off.

He might say more, but there comes that airy warning. It comes off as teasing as any of Josie's other words so far, but there's something there, something subtle underscoring it all, that makes one dark red brow lift ever-so-faintly as Jude's attention returns to her.

"Oof. Damn, that's frightening," he asides, his tone easygoing all the same. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna risk the wrath of a sweet woman like you. I'm not suicidal." A beat passes, perfectly timed.

"... So I'll make sure to be -really- subtle about it if I ever do have to rob you."

The wink he provides after is nothing short of incorrigible.

Shoulder pressed into the wall, Jude gradually rolls himself in a lazy turn until his back presses against the vaguely moist surface of that sheltered space. Leaned back in an almost upright lounging position, he crosses one leg over the other and interlaces fingers behind the back of his head, his cigarette hanging from between his lips as the dissipating trails of smoke make a murky haze of his features. 'I'll know just who to ask if I find myself in dire need of a light.' He can't help but smile in a way that reaches those amber eyes of his in a subtle kind of way as he plucks that cigarette free once more.

"And I'll be sure to be there. With my shining armor and noble steed in tow." That he can say this with a most sublime of poker faces is just a testament to his dedication.

A small shrug, some light conversation about a considerably less light subject matter. Jude takes it all on good-naturedly, head tilting back until the back of it bumps lightly into the wall as he draws that cigarette towards his lips. "Yep," he murmurs, the sound of paper crinkling within the heat of a fresh inhale scarcely heard against the persistence of the drizzle just beyond. "My wagon broke down. They offered to help me out. Can't say it was the smart play on their part if they're really that wanted, though. Kids, right? They've got a lot to learn." Shoulders lift, hapless and free from any responsibility.

'Hey, maybe you'll luck out and catch up to them?'

"Yeah," Jude agrees amiably, drawing off that cigarette before he taps ash into the wet earth beneath him. "That -would- be a pretty nice change of pace, wouldn't it?"

There's that offer, though. A cautious one, framed simply. The gratitude that lines Jude's features seems no less sincere, at least, even if he doesn't immediately respond. "Eloping, huh?" he wonders, voice wistful. "Woof. Well -- I guess that -is- about the age when you get to rush off to do stupid things. Bravo to them. I'm a little envious, to be honest." He even lifts his cigarette, as if in a faux toast to the presumably far-off couple. But still no word on her offer.

No -- that doesn't come until that call for introductions is made. Jude blinks, looking towards that offered hand. The consideration in his gaze doesn't even last so much as a second before his cigarette finds its home between his right index and middle fingers so he can take up Josephine's hand. "Josie, huh?" he greets, officially, a nonchalant grin making a lopsided path towards the corners of his lips. "Thank god; here I was just gonna call you the mysterious match girl of my dreams. This is a lot less of a mouthful." That cigarette tilts just so to gesture, vaguely, in his direction.

"Jude Moshe," offers the redhead, with practiced ease. "Traveling journalist. Covering the festival, hoping something worth writing about pops up." It's even true (enough). "If you see happen to run into them, tell 'em I'll be here through the festivities if they ever want to meet up, would you? Really would like to give them a proper thank you for taking the time to try to help me out."

With that, he'll let go of her hand just as easily as he took it, letting it slip into his pants pocket as his gaze turns back towards the passing bleakness of the sky. "So -- you're an archaeologist, huh? Must be a rush, coming to an exhibit like this. Maybe I oughta monopolize your time and pick your brain on all this sometime."

<Pose Tracker> Josephine Lovelace has posed.

Blank-eyed, the admittedly very fancy black and white pigeon tilts her head, jerkily, to stare at Jude. Pigeons are pretty smart, but...

Even in spite of her implied retributive malice, Josie just shrugs in response to his comment. "What can I say? It's a shame when people take advantage of poor innocent women. It's just self-defense."

'So I'll make sure to be -really- subtle about it if I ever do rob you'. He even winks at her.

With anyone else, she might have even been a little annoyed. Here, with him, she just shakes her head overdramatically, casting her gaze up to the heavens (or more accurately, the overhang of the roof) as if mock-pleading for deliverance. "Goodness, I hope you say that to all the girls you meet," she comments with a slight smile. "I'd hate to think I was the only one!"

It's been some time since she's been able to talk with someone like this.

Thus, that smile only grows when he promises to be her knight in shining armor, if she ever needs a light. Inevitably, she laughs, shaking her head. "Now, that I'd like to see!"

The conversations shifts, tilting out towards the topic of Lily and Leon. "Your wagon, huh. Good thing they were around to give you a hand. I guess they can't be that bad, if they stopped to help a stranger in need?" she offers, voicing the statement as if it were the vague, questing assessment of someone she doesn't know. She turns slightly, shoulder bumping up against the wall, just enough to glance again at the wanted poster haphazardly pasted on the wall. Her gaze glides, briefly, across the other posters -- at least, the ones close at hand /to/ read more or less clearly -- before returning to Jude. "...Hmm, so is he wanted, too?" she asks, all curious innocence.

'Eloping Drifters' /had/ been roughly her inital assessment, until the expedition. /THAT/ had been a surprise. "Well, they are about that age, right? Young love. Well, you only live once," she opines, shaking her head helplessly. "And it's the only way to learn." Experience is the best teacher.

There, once again, is that almost cat-like smile, as she grasps his hand. She has a firm grip -- but thankfully doesn't subscribe to the school of 'destroying someone's hand'. "'Mysterious match girl', huh? You really know how to win a girl's heart. It's nice to meet you, Jude," she says, releasing his hand.

His profession earns him a raised eyebrow. "Interesting, I don't think I've met a journalist before. Out where I'm from, well..." Her shoulders raise in a slight shrug. "Guess I've spent too many years digging in dusty tombs, right? It's nice to have a change of scenery. Anyway, if I spot your mystery girl and her beau, I'll be sure to tell them Jude was looking for them." Her friendly smile is absolutely an honest one.

It also doesn't depart in a hurry, hanging around as she nods, enthusiastic, as he brings up the festival. "It's nice to see people celebrating the fruits of our labor for a change, you know?" Regarding him, she tilts her head to the right, earrings swaying with the motion. "Hmm. I'm not as familiar with the ruins around here, but I wouldn't mind talking about a few things. I used to know someone around here who knew more but..."

This time the smile is downright sheepish. "We haven't written in almost a decade. It's a little embarrassing, honestly! I don't even know what to say."

<Pose Tracker> Jude Moshe has posed.

"It's my best line," Jude confides in Josephine when she makes her dramatic declaration, his head shaking in a most rueful kind of manner. His lips purse, brows scrunch, seized in the brief flutter of a thought.

"... maybe I need some new lines."

The sigh that follows squeezes Jude Moshe's eyes shut within the full depth of its world weariness.

There and gone in a flash, it is, soon to be replaced by that sense of ease that seems to exude from the redhead's very pores. Eyeing the dwindling stick of tobacco between his fingers, Jude just scoffs in amusement at the white-haired woman's laughing words, one hand lifted up palm-forward as if in some sort of mild surrender. "You know what? For you, I'll make that happen," he promises, as if it were as sure as the rise of the sun. "Now, there's gotta be someone around here who sells some kinda armor..."

His future prospects as a cigar-lighting knight are soon tabled for now, though. Those amber eyes instead focus on those wanted posters as Josephine does, perusing them as if looking for the same thing she is -- a similar poster for that blonde-haired young man ever-at Lily Keil's side. His shoulders lift, and roll, as if clueless.

"Who knows?" he wonders aloud, shaking his head to complement those spoken words. "He musta been, right? Even if he's just harboring her. They tried to keep it under wraps, but they both had ARMs on 'em. Hidden away, y'know? And his, well... don't know many people with ARMs like that who -don't- have to worry about bounties on their head. Either way..."

They can't be that bad. Right?

"... I'm a little more worried about how long a couple of Good Samaritans like them are gonna last with that kinda price on their heads. Who knows what kinda good-for-nothing ne'er-do-well'd try to take advantage?"

Who knows, indeed.

Despite how perpetually and ineffably laid back the man seems to be, his handshake is firm as well -- a brisk grip that doesn't linger overlong before that hand is flopping limply back against his side, as if all that verve had just been sapped out of it from the monumental effort of a handshake. "That's me. A regular romantic," is his response, tapping an index finger to his forehead before he brings that cigarette back to his lips. "Pleasure, Josie. Feels like it's been forever since I've had a simple conversation. Ever notice how things get more pain-in-the-ass complicated the older you get? Even just a conversation feels like an exercise in mental gymnastics, some days." He takes a draw from that cigarette, his eyes shifting toward the rainfall beyond them.

"Some days I kinda wish I could go back to the days when I thought rain was just some poor sap crying up in the sky."

Ultimately, his shoulders sag just a bit in a 'what can you do?' kind of gesture; that hand holding his cigarette waves about dismissively, contrails of smoke painting wide, dissipating arcs through the air. "Really, it's not that interesting. It's a lot of wandering around hoping you don't go broke before you find your next story. And out here, well... not a lot of avid readers down here. Still -- I wouldn't trade it for the world. ... Maybe I'd trade it for a decent place to sleep, though." He can't help but laugh at that, a wry, little laugh, head shaking. "They've got me out here in Ignas to cover the whole mess going on with Aveh in Kislev. All of this is just a diversion before my funeral march to the battlefield. Pray for this poor sinner?"

And here, he even makes a little cross sign, hands clapping together and pointed Josie's way -- as if praying for her prayer. The solemnity of it all doesn't quite reach the devil-may-care spark in his eyes.

Still -- as she talks about the festival, and the upcoming exhibit proper, Jude considers. "Wow. A whole decade, huh? Talk about out of touch," he murmurs, with a faint whistle. A second passes. He looks back at Josie, grinning and rubbing the back of his head. "Guess that's not helping, is it?"

As if to ward off condemnations over his uselessness, though, Jude soon turns to face Josephine fully, his shoulder pressed into the wall beside him as his other hand lifts haltingly. "Look -- it'll be okay. Most people just want old friendships to be like riding a bike -- they don't want to think the way the wheels turn has changed since you've been gone." He brings his cigarette down to his side, considering a moment before he offers: "Try this -- think back to when you were still in touch. What it was like, the kinda things you said, talked about, whatever. When you go and see them, just act like it hasn't even been a day since that last talk. Guarantee you they'll be smitten."

He pauses, and feels the need to append, before he returns his cigarette to his lips,

"Unless you left on a bad note. Hope you didn't break their heart or something." ... "Because that'd just be awkward. I got nothing for that."

Advice: given.

<Pose Tracker> Josephine Lovelace has posed.

Whatever her vague suspicions about Jude might be -- really little more than a bit of experience-honed friendly distrust -- she will admit: she hasn't been able to banter with someone like this in years. It's nice.

"A town like this? Count on it," Josie opines, punctuating the comment with an expansive gesture with her right hand -- as if to vaguely indicate the entirity of Adlehyde. Her lips part, revealing a bit of white teeth. "Now, you'd better not disappoint! The next time I run out of matches, you'd better be there, pronto!"

She doesn't see one for Leon, but this is one of those 'neither confirmed/denied' moments; there are a number of posters plastered up around here and she can't see all of them from her current position. ...Must be a popular place for those hunting bounties, around here. She'll have to remember that one. A white eyebrow lifts. "ARMs, huh? Interesting. Of course, a lot of Drifters have them, but..." She saw the sort of ARM Leon had. It had been /very interesting/. "Well, that's often how it goes. There's a reason people don't tend to trust Drifters with ARMs." One she disagrees with strongly, but as they say, when in Kislev, do as the Kislevians do. Absently shaking off more ash, her gaze is a touch unfocused as contemplating something. Lily has an ARM, too, huh...

"Who knows?" she speculates aloud, shrugging as if to say 'what can you do'. "It's a shame, honestly. Well, it's none of my business, but if I see them, I'll let them know you were checking up. Like I said." Here, she takes a moment to tilt her attention at some of the drips falling off the edge of the roof, taking the moment to smoke in quiet.

Good grip. That's Josie's silent assessment. And here she had been wondering.

"Hmm... I know what you mean. Well, things get busy, you know? Until I arrived in Adlehyde a few weeks back, I actually had been traveling alone for months, so..." She pauses, glancing over at Penelope, who appears to be doing her best to roost moodily. "Well, no, that's not right. I had Penelope, after all. Penelope, why don't you introduce yourself?"

Penelope does not say hi. Pigeons aren't known to talk, after all.

Josie tries and fails to keep a straight face at what might loosely pass for a joke. "...Just kidding. She's not a big talker." At all. "The weather has her a little down, I think. Anyway, as you were saying..." This smile is more subdued, but it's still a genuine, easy smile. "I think I like it complicated, to be honest. Even if I had the chance to have a quieter life again, I like things the way they are now. Even if it's messy."

She won't go back. Not even when she's done.

As he explains the trials and tribulations of his career choice, she takes another long drag off her cigar, her gaze on him the entire time. Exhaling smoke, she nods, evidently to all the world a sympathetic ear. "That's a shame. And here, I thought crawling around ruins and trying to get people to take their history seriously was rough... At least people are interested in what they can find, if not what it means." Admittedly, reason #1 has been pretty important to her lately, too.

Josie winces, one eye half-shut. "Oof, that's tough... I heard things were heating up, but maybe that was just a rumor?" Her gaze flickers down to his hands as he quite visibly beseeches her for divine intercession. Her already-present smile splits into a grin. "A prayer for a sinner, huh?" She looks him over, as if gravely taking into account the sincerity of his request. ...She's not taking this very seriously, either. "Well, I'll ask Fengalon to keep an eye out sometime." Josie is quite possibly not the most devout worshipper of the Guardians.

"Mmhm..." Her gaze is distant again, focused off past where he stands, and this time giving little hint that her mind is contemplating anything but the past. "Funny how time creeps up on you." Refocusing on him, her own casual lean against the wall straightens slightly as he turns to face her more fully. For the first time this entire conversation, Josephine Lovelace looks...

Totally off guard?

"Uh..." she hazards, blinking at him once.

When she does manage a complete sentence, it's unusually fragmented and slow, as if treading unfamiliar or unwelcome ground. "Well... it's not... bad advice? Just..."

Guess it was awkward.

"Maybe," is all she says for that, looking away from him as she takes apparent brief escape in the form of her cigar.

<Pose Tracker> Jude Moshe has posed.

"Armor at festival prices," ruminates Jude Moshe, rolling his cigarette between his fingers with the faintest grimace as if he were truly imagining the price tags, in real-time.

"Oof. My wallet's gonna hate me. The things I do to keep my word to a woman..." The redhead clears his throat there, and without so much as missing a beat, gives a little half-bow of half-dedication. If he had a hat, surely he'd be half-doffing it right now. "Err, I mean -- I swear I'll be there in a flash. My pleasure. Obviously."

...

"The horse might be kinda more of a... donkey, though. Budget constraints, and all."

Truly, it would be as sincere a half-gesture of respect there ever was, if not for the fullness of the entertainment plastered on his features.

It's a gesture as easily abandoned as it is given as Jude finds his comfortable spot against the wall once more, just enjoying the dwindling remains of his cigarette as Josie speaks. "Mm," he voices, almost half-aware, as she talks about ARMs, his pensive gaze lifting up towards the overhang that shelters them. "It's a shame, but that's just the way things are here out in this part of the world. Small villages, big superstitions. But you gotta wonder -- just how did those superstitions really crop up in the first place?" It's a question he lets linger in the open air until he gives his own answer with an ambivalent shrug.

"Eh. Maybe we'll never know for sure. I'll tell you what, though -- the first time I came over here from Guild Galad, I nearly got my sorry ass run out of town by way of torches and pitchforks."

A second passes, perfectly timed.

"That wasn't really about ARMs, but the principle's the same."

And the inhale of crinkling paper and tobacco smoke is just as perfectly timed like a key point of punctuation.

She makes her offer, and Jude is quick to turn the tug of an appreciative smile her way. "Much obliged," he answers back. And he, too, lets himself fall into the contentment of silence afterwards, just watching the rainfall alongside Josie as he draws in a lungful of tobacco. His lips purse a bit -- and that smoke is breathed out in a series of expanding little rings, dissipating into the air in comfortable quiet.

"If you do, tell 'em congratulations on their elopement for me, yeah? Here's to hoping their honeymoon ends well."

And he'd toast to that, too, if he could.

But there she goes, introducing her bird. Or asking her bird to introduce herself. Penelope does not say hi because birds do not talk. Jude squints slowly at Penelope. Josie apologizes for the bird who obviously doesn't have the ability to speak, not speaking. A moment of silence passes.

"... Damn. I was worried she didn't like me," says Jude Moshe, with all (apparent) due earnestness.

"You're a bird person too though, huh? Never really could stay in one place long enough to raise one, so... kudos for that. She looks like the loyal type." His head lulls slightly to his right as Josephine continues on about simplicity and complications, amber gaze distant as he lets those words roll over him. "... Yeah. Guess I can't say I disagree." He smiles, a dry little half-measure of a smile.

"'Messy' seems like that's just being a proper adult, anyway."

Pincering his cigarette between forefinger and thumb, he inspects it curiously, as if trying to assess just how much he has left to burn through by the time the topics shift and a good natured lagh overtakes him. "Ouch. I think with a prayer that earnest I might just make it halfway to Aveh before I get waylaid by pirates or something." His eyes shut, his brows turning up and inward in a hapless expression. "Not a lotta people interested in the past for the past, though. So... kudos to you, for trying to spread the love, I guess. I'm sure most people just see ruins as their potential payday."

He's not exempt from that, either, really. But at least he's good at paying lipservice.

And, at paying attention. The little changes in mood and tone throughout the conversation don't go unnoticed -- but some things are more obvious than others, especially things like surprise. For a moment, the white-haired woman he's been amiably bantering with this evening seems like she's at an utter loss for words, a moment that feels sublimely rare for all that he's only known her for so many handfuls of minutes at best. Dark, red brows lift in confused surprise. Amber eyes blink in good-natured, earnest concern. Obviously. "Everything okay--?" he ventures.

And then she takes his convenient out, in a way perfectly subtle enough to be as natural as breathing. His response?

Is to suck on his teeth, in sympathy.

"Oof. That bad, huh?" he asks, the pangs of empathy there in the good nature of his tone. That cigarette is dropped, the stub unceremoniously grounded out onto the wet, paved earth beneath him as he stuffs a hand into his pocket and roots around.

"Hey -- sorry if I made things awkward. I'm sure you'll figure something out," he offers, oh so encouragingly, even as he produces a crumpled bit of blank paper and a pencil. He presses the crinkled mess into the wall behind them and scribbles something out before handing it over -- his name, and the name of an inn.

"That's where I'm staying," he explains, helpfully. "You ever want to take me up on that interview, just come find me. You'll be doing my a big favor even if you don't know the area well -- I don't think I'm gonna get this kinda high quality repartee from just any archaeologist. Unless that's a thing with you guys, now." He cracks a nonchalant grin, pearly white teeth exposed; if she takes the paper or not, his hands soon find themselves looking at the back of his head, posture once more adopting a slouched sense of laziness.

"If you do take me up on it, I'll owe you one. You scratch my back, and all that. Figure that's a fair trade, right?"

<Pose Tracker> Josephine Lovelace has posed.

It's hard to restrain a smile as Jude continues along this line of banter -- with all due respect, she's finding it harder not to laugh. "A donkey, huh... You know, all this a first for me! I've never had a knight in shining," she pauses, briefly, raising her free hand to touch her cheek as if to consider the subject, "Or would that be discount armor, instead...? I'm sure /you/ could get some on credit! Anyway-- I'm willing to settle for a donkey. You'd better come through now!"

Judging from not-at-all constrained grin and the sparkle in her eyes, it's clear to the world she's not taking this very seriously, either.

For her part, Josie sinks against the wall as if attempting to bleed into it. "That's how it goes... Small village, small mindset. In the end, well..." She trails off for a second, then shakes her head. "It's not as if I don't understand, you know. In the wrong hands, the wrong ARM can do a lot of damage. Especially with more people digging into ruins these days. It makes you wonder..." What they're finding. How they're finding it. Who does the finding.

"You're from Guild Galad?" That prompts her to straighten up, very nearly leaning away from the wall. With decided interest, she looks him over again, as if seeing him for the first time. "That's a long way, isn't it? That's out in..." Vague gesture, little more than a sideways circle in the air. "Aquavy." She thinks that's the name. Josie smiles all the same though, lopsidedly, as she considers his brief and unelaborated tale of woe. "...Sounds like the kind of scrape you'd get into, though. So, what did you do?"

Now it just depends on if she can find either or both of them. Maybe they got smart and skipped town. Or... "Maybe I'll get lucky. I'll pass word along, if you want." Call it gut feeling though -- she thinks the answer is 'they didn't'.

Penelope cracks one perfectly black eye to stare at Jude moodily. Or as moodily as a pigeon can. Feathers fluff out, making the pigeon nearly spherical. Penelope closes her eye again.

"No, she's just being sulky. She doesn't like the rain. Or the heat either, actually. She's very picky." Josie shrugs, throwing up her free hand as if to say 'what can you do'. Grimacing in the way only a pet-owner can when discussing a misbehaving pet, Josie adds, "I guess she's loyal enough. I raised her from a hatchling, so I suppose I'm her mother. You know what they say about kids being disobedient? That's how it goes. I think she ignores me on purpose..." She falls silent, regarding Jude for a moment. "So, you like birds, too?"

Shaking off some of the remaining ash, she shakes her head, letting out a dry little chuckle. "Hey, it's the thought that counts, right? ...Can't say I'm very religious. It's probably not good business practice to be, anyway... Otherwise, I'd be believing every tomb was cursed, and then where would I be?" Her smile slides from amused right into appreciative. "Thanks. It's not an easy job, especially with all the other options on the table." Even archaeologists have to pay the bills somehow.

She keeps her eyes forward, clearly as if deeply troubled by some shameful event buried over a decade deep in the past.

Was that too much? Well, even if it is, she can work with this. It's fine.

Smiling sheepishly, she half squints one eye as if in a wince. "No, no, it's fine. ...Just past indiscretions, you know?" She pauses, catching a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye. She turns her head. "Hm--?" She reaches over, plucking the piece of paper between forefinger and thumb. She skims the scribbed name of the inn, then glances back over at him. "This is where you're staying? You managed a nicer place than me." Then again, she didn't have a choice with 15 gella to her name.

Frankly, she's lucky the innkeeper didn't kick her out until she hit pay dirt.

Folding the strip neatly in half, she slips it away into a pocket in the depths of her long jacket. "Sure thing. I've got some time to kill, so maybe I'll pay you a visit sometime." Josie glances over at Jude, as if in thoughtful consideration. "If I drop by, should I leave a message first, or make it a surprise?" That smile, at least, is only slightly self-amused. "I wouldn't want to interrupt if you have other interviews, you know."

<Pose Tracker> Jude Moshe has posed.

'I've never had a knight in shining -- Or would that be discount armor, instead...?'

"Maybe we ought to downgrade that to 'knight in slightly tarnished, but not too used armor.'" This is said with the eloquently awkward clearing of Jude Moshe's throat.

"Figure I oughta start tempering expectations before this gets too out of hand."

Says the man offering to ride in on horseback for the express purpose of lighting a cigar.

Donkeyback.

Whichever.

"I've seen a man do cataclysmic harm with a feather duster, once," Jude asides as the topics shift towards the right tools in the wrong hands. Or maybe it's the other way around. Either way, he doesn't seem intent to expand upon whatever remarkable story this might have resulted in save to append it with a shudder and a haunted, "It... it got ugly," before ambivalence soon overcomes him with the roll of his shoulders. "Still though, I guess a feather duster doesn't have bullets, at least. Not normally, anyway." Just what happened with this feather duster, exactly?

It might remain forever a mystery, though, especially since his attention shifts towards that other enigma of a story he's mentioned. 'Aquavy,' Josephine says, and the hint of a wry, amused smile touches at the corners of his own lips. "Eh, close enough. Place is more water than land, anyway. Still, it's a different world over there. Ignas is kinda..." Jude considers his words, very carefully. "... no offense, but it's kinda the sticks. I think I've gotten enough sand on me to make a desert all my own, at this rate." The redhead shakes his head, his chuckle more genially long-suffering than anything else. "ARMs aren't really the Forbidden Taboo over there that they are here, either. People aren't going to try and fling holy water at you and call you the devil's penpal if they find out you've got one. But, well... they've got their own special brand of headaches, same as everywhere else." A long pause. A haunted look, like Jude might be experiencing a flashback.

"... huh?" he utters, a moment later, shaking off troubling memories of sand as he glances Josie's way. "Oh. Eh. It's kinda a long story, but..." He considers, for just a moment, just how he'd like to phrase this.

"... long story short, people around these parts get really sensitive about their Guardians and the sort of things you may or may not do in them when you've had a bit too much to drink."

He shakes his head helplessly. Like he's the victim, here.

It's incredible how convincing he still manages to make it.

For a moment, that amber gaze of the journalist's just sort of... lingers on the little ball of feathers that Penelope has become, as if he were trying to wrap his head around what he's bearing witness to. It makes for a somewhat distracted, "Huh? Oh, yeah -- much obliged," to Josephine's offer, before he just kind of scratches the side of his head. "It's like those fish I read about..." he murmurs wonderingly, before his gaze finds Josephine once more, arms crossing over his chest. "So she's a moody teenager," he summarizes eloquently, his expression one entertained but sympathetic. "I do not envy you right about now, then. She looks like she's about to swing right into a rebellious phase."

The question, though, makes Jude tilt his head, a finger tapping thoughtfully against his forearm. "Kinda? I think it's more like I grew into liking 'em. That's about the best way to describe it. Dunno what my partner would think if they heard me saying that, but..."

Ultimately, another nonchalant shrug sums up that unexplained thought with succint wordlessness.

Her spirituality, though, earns a casual sort of grin of amusement on the redhead's part. "See, that's just good business sense. You know how much these priests charge to bless a dig sometimes? I had to look out for a religious archaeologist one time. Don't even know how they managed to make a living after that extortion, honestly. Guess we both shoulda found religion instead of all this, huh? Probably woulda made for some comfortable living, anyway. Praise be."

Vague, holy signs follow in the wake of this. Jude Moshe: truly spiritual.

It's a track he may have continued on, were it not for Josephine's unusually awkward reaction to his advice. For all she might be worrying about overselling it, or whatever else, Jude offers only a sympathetic kind of smile to her unfortunate situation as he works on that note of his. "Don't worry. We've all got skeletons in our closet. Some of us have graveyards. Maybe in this case, trying a fresh start is best, yeah?"

Still -- that note is passed off, and the subject dropped. Jude brings his arms back, to lock hands at the back of his head as he leans his weight comfortably against his heels. "Don't feel too bad, the kinda debt I rack up on inns alone out here is soul-cleaving," he jokes easily enough. "But if I'm gonna be risking my neck out in this crazy place, I might as well be doing it in style and comfort, y'know? Not much of a point, otherwise." Jude, a man of simple philosophies.

'If I drop by, should I leave a message first, or make it a surprise?'

Jude's head tilts towards his right. His brows lift. He doesn't miss a beat.

"Make whether you make it a surprise or not a surprise."

A second passes.

"Trust me, all things considered, if you end up interrupting me while I'm in the middle of something in a place like this, you'll probably be doing me a favor."

Really.

<Pose Tracker> Josephine Lovelace has posed.

"Well, I haven't had a man show up for me on a /mule/, armor included or not, so I'll count that as a win no matter what. All right~?" She flashes him a grin.

Even someone like Josie doesn't /really/ think he'll do it.

"Really, a feather duster?" she asks, even if details are not /precisely/ forthcoming. Regarding him a moment, her head tilted slightly to the right, she ultimately shrugs. "Well, who knows? It would be a good way to surprise someone... or, maybe, kill someone." She says this quite brightly.

Whatever the truth is, she doesn't press for the details of that one, opting instead for more information on the other. "That's what I heard, that there's nowhere out there that lacks for water." It's a different story out here, goes the unspoken addendum, punctuated only by her brief glance up at the water slowly dripping off the ledge. It rains more here than out in Aveh, anyway.

Josie shakes her head, smiling congenially. "None taken. I've spent enough time crawling around Aveh's sands. Not much fun, is it? It's not much better on the borders, either." And according to the stories the old-timers tell, the desert's spreading.

"I think I heard something about that once, too," she muses, forehead wrinkled as if in thought. "Some of those smaller villages... Well, I guess you found that out fast, huh?" she says with a wry smile, as if guessing that's the trouble he ran into.

Short story: no. Josie blinks, once. She struggles vainly, desperately trying to keep a straight face. Only to hunch over laughing, however briefly. "--Sorry, sorry!" she says, throwing out her free hand and waving it through the air. "Oh no, that's so awful..." It takes a mighty force of will for her to compose herself. Josephine Lovelace is /definitely/ either not very devout or just really easy-going about potential blasphemy.

Is Penelope annoyed or just cold? It's hard to tell what birds think.

'Those fish'? The archaeologist doesn't ask. Josie just shakes her head. "She'll get over it, eventually... She's probably just mad because we're out in the wet. Heh, I sort of understand what it must have been like for my auntie."

Grew into liking birds. "No, I can understand that," she says, nodding. "That's sort of how it was for me? Just, over time, I started liking birds." Followed, naturally, by a particularly knowing look at 'partner'. Someone has gotten the wrong idea and is opting for the unspoken harassment/teasing method of conveying having obtaining this knowledge.

"Blessing a dig, huh? Now that's familiar... that, or an exorcism." She shrugs, the movement itself small. "Oh well. I suppose it's my fault for not being devout enough..."

And in spite of whatever horrible event that was, deep in the mists of time, Josie smiles. "Exactly -- it's best not to dwell on it. Tomorrow's coming whether we want it or not, so we might as well face it down." /That's/ a sentiment she can really get behind.

"It's not a bad way to live! Might as well seize the day. ...Or the inn suite. If I thought I could have pulled it off myself... But," she mock-laments, "Archaeology doesn't pay well." And it's even harder when you're overdue over a week of inn payments to make ends meet but, oh well. "...Make it a surprise either way, huh? Well, then. I suppose I'll be seeing you later, Mr. Moshe, at a time to remain mysterious~" That is definitely a capital-P playful lilt.