Fable - Ask Shenanigans

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Urchin

Dirty Rotten Pickpocket
Cherry Rose Inc.
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Character Biography
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The pickpocket, burglar and all around no good, rotten bastard known as Urchin was feeling rather content with himself today. Sure, he was homeless, shoeless and what clothes he did have were ragged, patched and several sizes too large from him on account of being snatched off some poor sap's washing line. (Not to mention that his trousers were only held in place by a knotted piece of rope that he was using as a belt.) Still, it was a sunny summer day, and right now, that was all it took to put a smile on the lad's face. He'd taken it easy this morning, just tossing his newsboy cap on a random street corner and putting on his saddest orphan face for the passers by. Later on that day, a foreign vendor selling cones of crushed ice with syrupy flavoring had arrived at the market square, and the lad spent half of the coppers he'd earned that day on a small cone with sweet cherry syrup. (Of course, no respectable thief ever paid for his snacks, but the lad had to make an exception on account of the ice being contained inside some sort of ice crushing machine, which would be particularly difficult to steal without the vendor noticing.) And now, he had scampered his way onto the roof top of one of nearby houses where he lent back, rested his weary feet (which were by now almost completely black with the dust of the city), looked up at the clear blue sky, felt the rays of sun warm his freckled skin and watched the seagulls fly past as he cooled himself down with a cone of sweetened ice. Pure bliss... Well, he couldn't just sit around enjoying himself all day. Miss Zilvra was kindly putting him up and he had to scrape together enough coins to make it worth her while. Back to work! And since he'd hardly made any coins begging and had already spent half of that on a snack. Time to start making some serious silver. Jumping down from the two story building and landing with a clumsy little roll to soften the blow, the lad made his way through the city square, looking for a potential victim. Shame he didn't have any nicer clothes. Half the population of Aliria could tell he was trash from a mile away.
 
Honey was also walking through the market with her bright, multilayered skirts floating about her ankles in the cool breeze with her wicker basket hanging from her arm, collecting groceries. For now she'd taken on the role of cook for Zilvra and her girls since Zilvra didn't like to lower herself for such "menial tasks" and God forbid that Urchin try to cook. Much as she loved the lad, she doubted he'd so much as heard of the concept of soap, and didn't have much faith in the state of his hands. And speak of the devil, there he was, gracelessly falling from the roof. "Morning sweetpea," the girl greeted him, fondly ruffling his hair as she walked past. "Working hard?"

The boy smirked at the suggestion. "Me? 'Ard work? Never 'eard of it!" and off he went to pick the pockets of some poor unfortunate passerby like the wretched little scamp that he was.

Meanwhile, Honey walked over to the nearest bread merchant and started searching for a baguette long enough to feed the small army of girls that her boss was accumulating. As she was looking through the baker's wears, a voice spoke up behind you. "Hey, I know you. You're one of Zilvra's girls, ain't ya?" The gruff man asked. As Honey turned, she saw an unfortunately familiar face. A tall, well muscled man in his mid forties. A sailor from what she heard, who liked to visit Zilvra's whenever his ship was in the harbor.

"Oh yeah, I recognize you. You're one of Cherry's regulars, right?" Honey said with the best cheerful voice and fake smile she could muster. Much as she tried to always be polite to customers, Zilvra's girls talked, and from what Cherry had told her, this man wasn't exactly an ideal customer.

"Yeah, she's my go-to girl," the man said with a gap-toothed smirk. "Seen you around though. A bit older than what I usually go for, but I've had my eye on you for awhile. Just couldn't keep my eyes off that pretty face of yours." He said in a sickening attempt at being charming. "You busy right now?"

Honey had to fight to keep a grimace from her face. Older than what he usually went for? The woman was twenty. But yes, this man did have a thing for younger girls... Disturbingly young girls. Girls that wouldn't even be working the docks if Honey had anything to say about it. But she didn't. Those girls had to pay their way and so did she. However unpleasant a job it might be. "Sweetie, I'm shopping," Honey pointed out as she lifted her basket to show him. But why don't you come down by the Elven Arrow later? I start work in a few hours, that's my usual spot. I'll even let you buy me a drink, how's that?" she asked with a flirty smile.

"Can't it wait?" the man asked irritably, taking a firm grip on Honey's arm and leaning closer to whisper in her ear. "There's an alley round the corner we can go down. No one ever goes down there. We'd have it all to ourselves."

Honey grit her teeth and tried to pull away. "I'm sorry, I'm busy," she said, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible. "Don't want the rats running off with my food," she tried for a joke to lighten the man's mood. "But I just need to sort dinner out for the girls and then I'm free as the bird. I'll be in the tavern by seven. Rooms are cheap and you can rent them by the hour."

"I'm not paying for a fucking room." The man snapped, starting to sound frustrated. His grip on Honey's arm tightened as he physically started to pull her away from the merchant's stall. "Let the sluts go hungry for all I care. I'm a paying customer and I'm not going to be told no by some washed up old whore."

"You're hurting me!" Honey finally spoke up for herself. "Let go. Zilvra doesn't like her girls getting bruised. You know that." Bloody men. The woman couldn't even buy groceries in peace.
 
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Charity wandered through the busy streets, her small coin purse bulging with coins from a recent job. Stealing a magic book from a lightly guarded library? Piece of cake. Even a stupid street rat could've pulled it off. She noticed a cart serving crushed ice. It was a really hot day and she could certainly use something refreshing.

After getting the ice, Charity continued walking around the square. She meandered between stalls resisting the urge to lay her sticky fingers on the offered goods. The guards scattered around the square were eying her, just waiting for her to try something. Charity stuck her tongue out at one of them as she walked past.

Charity had stopped at one of the stalls to buy dinner for later when suddenly she felt somebody roughly bump into her. A small redheaded teenage boy turned around and looked at her. He was dressed in baggy clothes that were repaired with random patches of fabric. "Watch where you're going you damn brat!" Charity said annoyed, and pushed him away. She turned to pay the merchant as he ran off, only to realize her coin purse was gone. What the hell?!? she grumbled. Wait a minute.... that boy...

"Come back here you little shit!" Charity shouted and chased after the boy.
 
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Through the streets strides a gallant tin can, flowing red cape occasionally catching beneath the soles of the many market goers much to Crasius' chagrin. Commanded by his senior's to patrol the marketplace for the duration of his shift today, the stalwart officer of the City Watch has laments the utter lack of action he's had to endure as of late. A rattling groan echoes throughout the depths of his helmet, the paladin deigning to gather up his cloak into one arm so he can traverse the crowd with relative ease. In truth, it puts a smile on his face to see the various patrons from all walks of life intermingling, peddling their wares often with less than success but never diminishing in spirit.

It'd be enough to put a smile on his face...if it hadn't been for one troubling sound that caught his ears. A scuffle buried beneath the hustle and bustle of the market square; a creep who just can't take no for an answer. Having been raised within the pressure cooker of the Areck Slums, Crasius developed quite the nose for trouble — and the trail compels him to quicken his pace. Shortly he comes to the baker's cart, giving a curt nod in greeting before following the commotion of Honey finally confronting the musclebound sailor holding fast to her arm.

Crasius might've rolled his eyes had he not been taught to prioritize protecting Alliria's citizenry; he's never been the picturesque "Knight in Shining Armor" but sometimes he can't help himself. Barmaids and brothelworkers are too often the victims of the worse sorts of injustice; injustice that just as often goes unhindered and unanswered for. Not today, though.

Before the man can continue harassing or harming poor Honey, the cold steel of a heavy gauntlet rests upon his shoulder to give a harmless yet firm grip, like padded iron. An amber gleam shines from within the indiscernible darkness of a steel helm, the sheer presence Crasius commands looming over the ship-worker as a means of deescalating intimidation. The imposing figure of the fully armored guard meets the man should he turn around, the echo within Crasius' helmet giving his voice a bellicose bellow despite his calm and patient tone;"Didn't your mother ever tell you; 'Never lay your hands on a lady'?"
 
The lad smirked as he saw his first potential victim. A pretty young woman with a noticeably heavy looking coin purse. A lovely lady like that shouldn't have to carry such a heavy purse around, Urchin thought to himself. So he decided to be a gentleman and take the heavy load off her hands. And being so thick with coin, her purse strings were all the easier to snip.
"Watch where you're going you damn brat!"

"Sorry, Miss!" Urchin said with a polite little tip of his cap. See, a true gentleman if ever there was one. And off he ran round the nearest corner to inspect his loot... "Bloody 'ell, I 'it the jackpot!" Urchin exclaimed gleefully as he admired his new little treasure trove. Unfortunately, it didn't take long for his victim to realize that the boy had kindly decided to take on the burden of carrying her coin purse... And she was surprisingly ungrateful for his act of gallantry.

"Come back here you little shit!" Charity shouted and chased after the boy.

"Oh bugger," the lad muttered under his breath, and down through the streets he ran, knocking over crates, sprinting down alley ways, clambering up pipes and running across roofs all in an attempt to lose his pursuer.
 
Honey was considering giving up the fight and letting the man have his way. It would be less trouble than putting up a fight, and from hat she'd heard, it'd probably be over in ten minutes. Luckily, she didn't have to subject herself to that undesirable ordeal, as out of nowhere a slightly unconventional "Knight in Shining Armor" had come to her rescue.

The burly old sailor scowled as he felt the man's hand on his shoulder. "The hell did you just say?" he asked as he turned to face his confronter, looking like he was in the mood for a fight. But he thought better of it when he got a good look at the man and realized that he was law enforcement. "Hmph. Didn't mean no trouble officer. Lady's an old friend of mine. Didn't mean her no harm." He said as he reluctantly released Honey's arm. "You take care of yourself now," he said in a half-hearted attempt to seem innocent before turning and walking away.

Honey breathed a sigh of relief as the sailor disappeared in the crowd. "Thank's for that, love," she told the guard with a genuine smile. "Sorry for the trouble, but you know how it is. Some guys just don't like hearing the word "no" I guess. Nice to see there's at least one gentleman in this city. I was starting to give up hope," she joked, flirtatiously tucking her hair behind her ear. "Say, how's about you let me buy you a drink? Least I can do after you came to my rescue like that." She had enough coin left over for a couple of ales, and she wanted to show her gratitude. Plus, it never hurt to get on the good side of the local law enforcement. Especially in her line of work where she was bound to see the inside of a cell a few times.
 
Charity sprinted through the streets after the little thief. She stayed at street level doing her best to follow him as he ran along the rooftops. He was much faster than she had expected, and she struggled to keep up as she pushed people out of the way. She was getting nowhere fast, and had to come up with a new plan.

After pushing her way through another swarm of people, Charity came to a large open area. She paused and closed her eyes. "This place is as good as any." she thought. Slowly drawing in breath, she imagined an image of herself climbing up a drainpipe on one of the buildings in front of the boy. Charity opened her eyes, and there it was - a static image of herself clinging motionlessly to the drainage pipe.

Charity resumed running after the boy, and as soon as he got close to the image, she had it swiftly ascend the pipe and appear directly in front of him. "Hopefully this works..." Charity mumbled to herself.
 
"It's no trouble then, citizen. As you were." Crasius spares the would-be predator only a passing farewell through unseen and gritting teeth; he partially wishes that jackass would've taken a swing at him just to have an excuse to throw him in the slammer. Alas, as an officer of the law he's beholden to uphold order above playing hero. Then again, as he turns to accept Honey's gratitude it does put a smile on his face — not that it can be seen behind the visor of his helmet. He steps up but keeps a professional degree of distance between himself and her, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head and waving his free hand in front of his face. All that bravado he'd put on seconds before has melted away in an instant, leaving behind what essentially amounts to a dork in an iron suit.

"Eh, don't mention it. Someone's gotta keep the trash out the market, after all. Who better than me?" Crasius inclines his head to meet Honey's gaze, turning his gaze aside as she offers to buy him a drink. "Well shoot, I'd love to lady but. . .I really shouldn't drink on the job. Not because of conduct or whatever but because the captain would be on my ass."

Crasius chuckles, the quiet laughter echoing throughout his helmet the same way his words do. "How about, your name? Considering your line of work, and considering my superiors are deadset on having me wade through the shit for my first year, we'll probably be running into each other a lot."
 
The boy just kept running and running and heard no footsteps behind him. Finally. It looked like he'd lost her... Or at least, that was what he thought, until suddenly he saw the girl appear, climbing a drainpipe right infront of him. "Shit!" the boy declared, slowing himself to a stop before turning and running around in the opposite direction.

Infont of him was the alleyway and the stairs he'd just climbed up. He could always race back down the stairs again, but that'd put him back in the top square with lots of pedestrians blocking his path. And there was always the chance that the local law enforcement might catch him. The was nothing for it. He'd have to jump the alley onto the opposing roof.

Sprinting as fast as his scrawny legs could carry him, he jumped for the roof and barely managed to grab hold of the roof on the other side. For awhile he struggled, trying with all his strength to pull himself up... Before finally slipping and falling from the building to crash down into a pile of empty ale kegs in the alley beneath him. "... Ouch." He groaned. This was going to hurt tomorrow.
 
Honey couldn't help but give a beaming smile at the guard's completely humble attitude. He was adorable! She'd definitely have to sweeten this one up. Maybe he'd be able to help her out the next time she got herself in trouble.

"Well shoot, I'd love to lady but. . .I really shouldn't drink on the job. Not because of conduct or whatever but because the captain would be on my ass."

"Ah, of course. Don't want to upset the boss and all," she said sympathetically. "Well, who says the drink has to have liquor? It's a hot day, and you must be absolutely melting in that big old metal cage you're wearing. How about something cool to take the edge off?"

"How about, your name? Considering your line of work, and considering my superiors are deadset on having me wade through the shit for my first year, we'll probably be running into each other a lot."

"Ah, so you heard that?" Honey asked, looking a little embarrassed. "Yes, I'm a... "Service Provider" of sorts. But don't you worry yourself about me, love, I stay out of trouble. Keep things low key and legit. Hopefully you won't be seeing TOO much of me," she said with a little laugh. But hopefully if she ever did find herself in trouble with the law, she might be able to flutter her eyelashes and get this nice young man to vouch for her.

"Folks call me Honey," she introduced herself. "How about you, handsome? You got a name hiding somewhere under that shiny suit of yours?"
 
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Crasius isn't a hard oyster to crack despite his full metal appearance; beneath all that steel and drill there's got to be a heart buried somewhere after all. Sunlight catches the ferrous glint glistening along the furthest edges of his armor, silhouetting his shape as he stands in contemplative silence of Honey's new offer.

"How about something cool to take the edge off?"

She wasn't wrong. It's like a steaming sauna inside his helmet right now, frankly it's a miracle he hasn't fainted! It's become too much to bear now that Honey's pointed it out to him — his fingers lift to tenderly unfasten the helmet from his head. At last she'll be able to look upon the face of the law...and it's going to be as unimposing as it is attractive. "You know what? Sure! What the hell! Not like my boss is gonna find out."

"Ah, so you heard that?"

"I did, my apologies for bringing it up. With how loud that jackass was being though, it's like he wanted to whole market to know he was a sleazeball." Crasius snarls out disdainfully, giving a slight twist to his helmet here and there. With one final pull and flourish, a long golden mane of glittery locks flows freely from the top of his head — it takes a second for Crasius to shake off the helmet hair.

"How about you, handsome? You got a name hiding somewhere under that shiny suit of yours?"

"Phew! I'm red as a tomato now. Definitely gonna need some ice wherever we're going. As for a name? Crasius." He holds out a hand for a shake rather than going through the knightly display of offering to kiss her hand or anything. He's always preferred addressing people as equals anyway, chivalry be damned! "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Honey."
 
Charity watched expectantly as her clone appeared before the young man. YES! Her plan had worked! She couldn't help but laugh as he turned tail and ran like a frightened animal. The fact that he didn't know it wasn't really her made it all the more amusing. The clone stood silently as the boy attempted to jump across to the opposite roof, only to fail and fall on a pile of barrels. It disappeared as soon as he was out of sight.

Charity ran into the alley while he was laying there trying to catch his breath. "Gotcha you thieving little bastard!" she exclaimed, grabbed him by the back of his collar and roughly picked him up. "I'll be taking this!" Retrieving her coin purse, Charity let go of his shirt and pushed him away. "I'll let it go this time, but don't try anything like that with me again. Now get out of here before I change my mind and kick your ass!"
 
The lad's eyes went wide as Charity soon appeared in the mouth of the alleyway. How the hell did she get there so fast? This woman must be some kind of ninja to get down from the roof and round to the alley so fast. Well, he didn't have time to escape now, and even if he did he doubted he could outrun her after a nasty fall like that. Damn. Looked like he as going to have to surrender his treasure. After all his "hard work".

Urchin groaned in pain as she picked him up by the collar and reluctantly surrendered her coin purse back to her. "I'm sorry Ma'am," the lad whimpered as he did his best to conjure up some crocodile tears. "I swear, I'm real sorry. I wouldn't never do somethin' like that normally, but I was desperate, ya see. My Ma', she passed an' I been all on my own ever since. Ain't got nowhere ta go, an' I was just so 'ungry! I ain't had nuthin' ta eat in days!" Well, to be fair, that was partly true. His mother had kicked the bucket, but that was awhile ago, and of course, Urchin was already a dirty, rotten sneak thief before she died. Still, one had to play to ones skills, and the boy certainly had a talent for looking pitiful when he wanted.
 
Honey was pleasantly surprised when the guard took of his helmet to reveal his charming face. Damn, his hair was prettier than hers! How did he get it so thick and glossy? Some kind of flower oil? She'd have to pry the secret from him later.

"You know what? Sure! What the hell! Not like my boss is gonna find out."

"Perfect, she declared as her eyes scanned the square and noticed the crushed ice vendor from the mountains that Urchin had visited earlier. "How about some sweet ice? I haven't had that since I was a girl! Oh, I hope they have lemon," she said excitedly as she put her hand on the guard's arm and started leading him over to the stall.

"I did, my apologies for bringing it up. With how loud that jackass was being though, it's like he wanted to whole market to know he was a sleazeball."

Honey couldn't help but laugh at that. So refreshing to meet a man who recognized trash when he saw it. With her line of work, most people seemed to think that any trouble she found herself in was her own fault for flaunting herself like she did. Not many people in this city were of the opinion that a lady deserved, respect regardless of her status or standing. Particularly good qualities to find in a guard of all people. "Yes, he's a nightmare, that one. Given a bit of trouble to a friend of mine. Hopefully he'll keep his distance for awhile, after you put him in his place."

"Phew! I'm red as a tomato now. Definitely gonna need some ice wherever we're going. As for a name? Crasius. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Honey."

She couldn't help but giggle as the man blushed at a simple compliment. "Oh, you're a sweet heart, that's for damn sure," she said as she took his hand and gave it a friendly shake. "And the pleasure's all mine, Crasius. It's so nice to meet a guard who's a "man of the people" for once. Not many honest ones left round here. No offence."

Arriving at the crushed ice vendor, Honey was thrilled to fins that they had a lemon and lime syrup and ordered a cone for yourself. "And for the gentleman," she thought aloud as she glance over the different flavorings. "How about strawberry? Everybody likes strawberry."
 
Indeed Crasius was quite the looker underneath his armor, although one would never be able to tell for sure given the rare circumstances that lead him to doff his trusty helmet. The young man's more attached to his steel than his own arms and legs sometimes. Although, it'd take a lot of coaxing to get the secrets of his hair's glimmering sheen out of him.

"How about some sweet ice? I haven't had that since I was a girl! Oh, I hope they have lemon,"

"Sweet ice...? I confess I've never tried the stuff, but it sounds like it'll help beat the heat for certain so I'm all for it." He posits with a exhausted pant, rivulets of sweat delicately decorating his furrowed brow before all at once his expression softens. The presence of Honey's hand upon his arm has left the kindly knight nonplussed, any present blush luckily hidden by the overheated redness in his cheeks. Without any hesitation or hindrance he allows himself to be led by her, over to the vendor.
"Hopefully he'll keep his distance for awhile, after you put him in his place."

"Hah! Please. I hardly 'put him in his place', although I'd love the chance to. Some guys just won't learn until someone breaks a foot of in their ass." Suffice to say, Crasius isn't like most other guards. He'd been raised from the gutter himself, so he naturally empathizes with the very people he's often tasked with arresting. Not to say he's soft on crime of course — but he can be a little soft on the criminals themselves. That is unless they give him a reason to discard the demeanor of nicety he's been instilled with.

"And the pleasure's all mine, Crasius. It's so nice to meet a guard who's a "man of the people" for once. Not many honest ones left round here. No offence."

Crasius nods. "None taken. I know I complain a lot but...I don't mind being assigned to the marketplace and slums. People living on the fringe of the city need protecting too, y'know?" With a soft smile, he turns from Honey and looks to the crushed ice vendor. "I think you're right, Honey. I'll try the strawberry! Although, maybe go light on the syrup. Master always said sweets will kill a warrior long before a foe's blade gets the chance."
 
"Hah! Please. I hardly 'put him in his place', although I'd love the chance to. Some guys just won't learn until someone breaks a foot of in their ass."

Honey couldn't help but laugh at the man's frankness. "Very true. Trust me, there's a few people I'd like to smack around the face sometimes. If I had the nerve that is." Unfortunately Honey wasn't much of a fighter. That is to say she'd never been in a fight in her life. Still, that probably suited her since she had a bit of a talent for deescalating situations.

"I think you're right, Honey. I'll try the strawberry! Although, maybe go light on the syrup. Master always said sweets will kill a warrior long before a foe's blade gets the chance."

"Ah, you need to go more easy on yourself, darlin'. A little sugar never hurt anyone. And a man needs some sweetness in his life." Was that an innuendo? She hadn't meant it to be at the time, but she'd certainly need to add that to her collection of terrible flirty one-liners. "So, who's this Master that's got you on such a stingy diet? Captain of the Guard?" she asked conversationally as she lent against the wall, slowly enjoying the little scoops of sweet lemon ice.
 
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Honey needn't worry about fighting for herself, Crasius would be more than happy to knock some heads on her behalf; or anyone's behalf really, anything to chase away the monotonous boredom of his daily patrols. Alas, such belligerency will have to wait for its season as he's still technically in uniform at the moment. He accepts his serving of strawberry shaved ice with a polite bow.

"So, who's this Master that's got you on such a stingy diet? Captain of the Guard?"

"Mm? Oh! No actually — my mentor retired awhile ago..." Crasius explains with a wistful sigh, looking far off over the squat buildings and tents to The Spine looming in the distance. "If you think I'm a "man of the people", you should've seen him. Master Glavel never turned down anyone in need, not even me. The guard could use more men like him, that's part of the reason I joined. That and getting to impress beautiful young women like yourself." His sullen frown turns into a small smirk, eyes gently staring down at the scoops of flavored ice.
 
Honey listened with interest as Crasius reminisced about old mentor. "Sounds like a swell guy," she said with a smile. "I'm guessing he had a big influence on you, huh? You turned out pretty well, if I do say so myself. Bet he'd be real proud of you." Still, she couldn't help but notice the sigh that escaped him when he talked about his Master. "What happened to him?" she asked, though she could guess the answer. The good men always died young. It was just one of the rules of nature.

Still, she gave a little giggle when Crasius mentioned joining the guard to impress beautiful young women. "Why, you crafty rogue. There you are trying to trick me into thinking you're a chaste little knight in shining armor, but you know exactly how to charm the ladies, don't you? Your blushing cheeks don't fool me. Well, you keep it up. It's definitely working. And the ladies do love a man in uniform, I'll vouch for that."
 
"I'm sorry Ma'am," the lad whimpered as he did his best to conjure up some crocodile tears. "I swear, I'm real sorry. I wouldn't never do somethin' like that normally, but I was desperate, ya see. My Ma', she passed an' I been all on my own ever since. Ain't got nowhere ta go, an' I was just so 'ungry! I ain't had nuthin' ta eat in days!"

Charity sighed and pushed a strand of hair away from her face. "Look kid... I know where ya comin' from, I really do. I've been in the same situation myself more times than I can count. But you've gotta be smarter about the people you steal from." The boy looked pitiful. Charity knew he was really pouring it on, and felt slightly bad about the way she had gone about getting her money back.

"C'mon. Let's go get something for you to eat." Charity said holding out her hand. She might be a selfish thief, but she wasn't completely heartless. Time to teach this kid a thing or two about thieving.
 
Crasius' cheeks somehow managed to burn just a little brighter; he waves off his blush with a dismissive gesture, clearly flustered over the matter. He clears his throat and turns away, taking a few chomps of his ice before it melts.

"I'm guessing he had a big influence on you, huh? You turned out pretty well, if I do say so myself. Bet he'd be real proud of you."
"Oh you have no idea. I swear by the gods, even though no one knows where he disappeared to that man is still inside my head." The knight has a good laugh at his own expense, rubbing the back of his neck as it swivels to face himself towards Honey once again. "...thanks, though. That's awfully kind of you to say."

"Heh, am I that obvious though? Thought I'd left my days as a "crafty rogue" behind, if I'm being honest." Crasius rubs his chin with a steel gauntlet, smirking quite devilishly for what one would expect from a paladin. "Some old habits die hard I guess, and others just stick around forever."
 
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. "Look kid... I know where ya comin' from, I really do. I've been in the same situation myself more times than I can count. But you've gotta be smarter about the people you steal from. C'mon. Let's go get something for you to eat."

Oh wow, that worked a lot better than he'd expected. The starving orphan act could occasionally keep his victims from calling the guards, but never before had it worked so well as to ring a meal out of someone. He'd have to start using it more often. (Recently he'd been favoring the mentally slow simpleton act, where he pretended he had no concept of the immorality of theft and only wanted to look at the coins because they were shiny. It worked a treat at keeping him out of jail, but recently he'd been shocked to find the amount of people who enjoyed kicking around a simpleton for fun. Honestly! And people thought he was a scoundrel.)

"Really?" he asked with genuine surprise, his big green eyes glittering with gratitude like a stray puppy thrown a bone. "Oh thank ya Miss! Yer a regular saint in a city of sinners, ya really are. God bless ya." He said as he took her hand and let the woman pull him to his feet. He didn't believe in any Gods, but simply mentioning a God could sometimes soften the hearts of the particularly pious, regardless of which one they worshiped. They just always assumed that the God he was referring to was theirs. "Oh, I won't steal nuthin' again Miss, I swear. I learned the error o' my ways an' that's a fact. Truth is, I ain't never stolen nuthin' before in my life. That's why I fucked it up so bad... Pardon my language, Miss. I'm just a common born street lad an' never learned how ta talk ta proper ladies like you." ... The most bold faced lie he'd ever told in his life but considering how completely and utterly he'd fucked up the job, maybe she could believe that this was his first attempt at theft. He certainly felt like an amateur right now.
 
Honey just adored the way the guard blushed like a bride at the simplest of complements. He was such a sweetheart. In fact, she was beginning to worry that the man wasn't blushing at all and had just picked up a nasty sunburn. Maybe she should try and stick to the shade for the rest of the day.

"Oh you have no idea. I swear by the gods, even though no one knows where he disappeared to that man is still inside my head."

"Oh?" she asked curiously. "And is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Generally when someone was stuck in their head, it meant the culprit was driving them crazy. Either a child grieving a deceased parent, or a man obsessing over a woman who'd left him for someone richer and taken the children with her just to add insult to injury. (She'd met quite a few of those men in her line of work. Poor souls.)

"Heh, am I that obvious though? Thought I'd left my days as a "crafty rogue" behind, if I'm being honest."

"Is that so?" she asked with a look of mocking shock. "Well, I'm absolutely scandalized! So you weren't always the dashing young guard that I see before me today? Oh, please do tell! What dark little skeletons could such a charming gentleman have hidden away in his closet?"
 
Crasius despite being an upstanding and stalwart paragon of the public good was an absolute mess in the presence of a pretty face. At least his training has made him well-practiced in maintaining his composure, even under the effects of a "sunburn" as it were.

"And is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Hm. That's an interesting question. I'll say; for better it helps me keep a level head, for worse it hard to be my own man. Whatever that would entail..." While he's certainly not under the same kind of duress of a man undergoing separation, there is a subtle hint of sadness to the topic of his former mentor. Nevertheless he shakes his head at the matter, regaining his unshakable fortitude with seeming ease.

"Oh, please do tell! What dark little skeletons could such a charming gentleman have hidden away in his closet?"

"O-Oh!" Oh dear, guess it's time to open that can of worms. "Nothing too damning — although it's a slight embarrassment to admit. I used to be something of a notorious pickpocket in my youth, a burglar and vandal too. Although I was never truly a street urchin as my father provided a home and decent dress, I certainly hung around with the 'wrong crowd' so to say." Crasius scratches his rosy cheek. "Not to say I entirely regret it. I enjoy the company of the 'wrong crowd' from time-to-time."
 
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"Hm. That's an interesting question. I'll say; for better it helps me keep a level head, for worse it hard to be my own man. Whatever that would entail..."

"How so?" Honey asked curiously. "You seem to have a pretty good sense of who you are, from where I'm standing. You're kind, respectful. Got yourself a good moral compass, and a brilliant judge of character if I do say so myself. Got a good career and seem to have your life more or less put together. So what's missing then, love? What's keeping you from being "your own man?""

"Nothing too damning — although it's a slight embarrassment to admit. I used to be something of a notorious pickpocket in my youth, a burglar and vandal too."

Honey let out a gasp of pretend horror as the guard confessed his sins. "Well, I never!" she declared with a playful laugh. "Why you wicked little beast! I bet you were a regular scamp, weren't you? Robbing the local bakery for all the currant buns and honey cakes you could get your hands on. Absolutely appalling! You know, I'm not sure a nice, proper young lady like me should be talking to you. You're a bad influence," she teased Crasius, giving him a playful push on the shoulder. In fact, his young self reminded her a lot of someone she knew... Hopefully the boy wasn't causing too much trouble.

"Not to say I entirely regret it. I enjoy the company of the 'wrong crowd' from time-to-time."

Honey raised her eyebrows suggestively at that statement. "Well, who doesn't?" she asked, scooping up the last of her lemon ice and brushing it against her tongue like a sugar stick. "We're the fun crowd."
 
"Really?" he asked with genuine surprise, his big green eyes glittering with gratitude like a stray puppy thrown a bone. "Oh thank ya Miss! Yer a regular saint in a city of sinners, ya really are. God bless ya."

Charity rolled her eyes as she pulled him to his feet. "Yeah. Sure. Whatever ya say, kid. I'm a real saint, I am. "Aven't done anythin' bad in me whole life. Swears to gawd." she said, gently mocking him and almost perfectly imitating his accent.

"Oh, I won't steal nuthin' again Miss, I swear. I learned the error o' my ways an' that's a fact. Truth is, I ain't never stolen nuthin' before in my life. That's why I fucked it up so bad... Pardon my language, Miss. I'm just a common born street lad an' never learned how ta talk ta proper ladies like you."

"Do I look stupid? We both know that's not true. You're actually pretty skilled for a brat. Just happened to steal from the wrong person. Ya gotta learn to pick your marks with more care." Charity said as they began to walk back towards the market. "Although you nailed that waif act. I'll give you that." She couldn't help but laugh when he called her a "proper lady". A mischievous grin spread across her face. "I'm no lady. Just a low-down, no-good, dirty, rotten sneak thief like you." she giggled, trying to contain her laughter. "Now hurry up! I'm hungry too ya know!" Charity ruffled his hair and pulled him towards the stalls.

"Alright, brat. Here's what's gonna happen. I'm going to create a distraction, and you're going to lift something from one of these stalls. If you can prove to me that you know what you're doing, I'll buy ya anything you want. Deal?"