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Shep watches Monkey’s retreating back and says to Carry, still facing the corridor, "You know, I’m getting tired of people telling me who the right people and wrong people are." A small knot of anger tightens in his chest before he turns to face her. "I don’t judge people by how they look or what’s in their DNA. I judge by how they treat me and how they treat others. Unless you’re playing me, I think you’ve got a good heart, and that’s enough for me."

OOC: Streetwise roll of 87...

"Honestly," she replies, eyes looking ashamedly downward, "People have been so awful to mutants and d-bees that many have lashed out... made it worse, giving us all a bad name. Sometimes, I don't blame them but at the same time I think we could all get along." She regards Shep's kind eyes with her own, "Without my job, I'd starve. I'm one of the lucky ones. I bet if I was also on the street, then I'd be just like them."

A flash of concern washes over her, "I hope that doesn't change your opinion of me. I had a few fun things planned!"

Shep meets her gaze, the blue in his eyes catching the blue of the suit, and says quietly, "It doesn't change a thing in my book. I've lived too long and seen too much not to know it's what's in here and here that matters." He taps his temple, then rests a hand over his heart. "So come on, let's get out of here and you can show me around."

Shep meets her gaze, the blue in his eyes catching the blue of the suit, and says quietly, "It doesn't change a thing in my book. I've lived too long and seen too much not to know it's what's in here and here that matters." He taps his temple, then rests a hand over his heart. "So come on, let's get out of here and you can show me around."

Her sharp‑toothed smile flashes with unexpected charming as she slips her arm through his, guiding him with the bright, eager energy of a kid tugging someone toward a festival ride. She leads him through the crowded streets, brushing off the glares and muttered comments about her bluish skin without breaking stride. Eventually, she pulls him toward a narrow storefront crowned with a riot of bright color: "Booze and Candy."

Inside, the place is a sensory ambush. The front half is nothing but barrels brimming with most candies, pastries, cookies of every shade, shape, and sugar-dusted temptation imaginable. The back half shifts tone entirely: rows of beer, ale, stouts, whiskey, liquor, and stranger mood‑bending brews line the shelves like artifacts in a curated exhibit.

Carry spins toward Shep, arms flung wide, her reflective gown hugging her figure as she beams with almost childlike pride. “Not the top of the list, but I had to stop here. What do you think?” Her excitement bubbles over. “Sweets are hard to come by here. Sugar and syrups cost a fortune, but these people don’t care. Isn’t it great?”

Shep lets his eyes sweep the room, taking in the variety of sweets and bottles. He feels a little old to get too excited about candy, but he doesn’t want to disappoint Carry or bring down her excitement. "Yeah," he says with an amused smile, "this is pretty great. I’ve never seen so many different treats in one place before. It’s like they decided to thumb their nose at the rest of the world and create their own little pocket of joy."

He drifts with Carry toward the candy barrels, glancing over labels and colors like he’s browsing, while half-remembering something from a long way back. Back when things were simple. Back before... With intention, he pulls his thoughts back to the present rather than let his mind wander down those dangerous passages again. He looks back at Carry and says, "How about you show me your favorites."

Shep lets his eyes sweep the room, taking in the variety of sweets and bottles. He feels a little old to get too excited about candy, but he doesn’t want to disappoint Carry or bring down her excitement. "Yeah," he says with an amused smile, "this is pretty great. I’ve never seen so many different treats in one place before. It’s like they decided to thumb their nose at the rest of the world and create their own little pocket of joy."

He drifts with Carry toward the candy barrels, glancing over labels and colors like he’s browsing, while half-remembering something from a long way back. Back when things were simple. Back before... With intention, he pulls his thoughts back to the present rather than let his mind wander down those dangerous passages again. He looks back at Carry and says, "How about you show me your favorites."

"Ooo!" she grabs a paper bag and begins filling the bottom with red gummy coins, "I love these! They get stuck in my teeth but they're so addicting!" She then moves over to a basket with lollipops banded together with string to form a balloon of them for ten credits, then tosses one in the bag. Finally, she grabs Shep's hand and drags him over to an assortment of caramel drizzled truffle chocolates, "I'm sharing these with you!"

As she walks up to the counter to pay, several patrons, as usual, glare at her as the store owner smiles, "Welcome back, Carry! Oh! You're splurging today! Who's your new friend?" He gestures to Shep.

"My new friend!" she excitedly squeaks, "He's new and I'm showing him around."

"Thadda girl!" He nods to Shep, "You keep her out of trouble. She's my best customer."

As the shopkeeper counts out her change, she's already munching on a gummy coin; offering one to Shep, who notices patrons leaving, not wanting to be in the same store as Carry.

Shep lets himself be tugged along, a small laugh escaping as Carry fills the bag like a kid at a festival stand...or like a kid in a candy store. He stays close, relaxed and patient, watching her excitement more than the candy itself.

At the counter, he gives the shopkeeper an easy nod. "I’ll do my best," he says warmly. "No promises on the trouble part. She seems pretty committed to fun." As a few patrons filter out, he notices, but keeps his expression even and unbothered.

Only after the change is counted out and Carry starts munching does he accept the gummy coin she offers, turning it once between his fingers before tasting it. His brows lift with amused surprise. "You weren't kidding. This is really good." He tips his head toward the door with a soft, good-natured smile. "All right, you're the boss. Where to next?"

Shep lets himself be tugged along, a small laugh escaping as Carry fills the bag like a kid at a festival stand...or like a kid in a candy store. He stays close, relaxed and patient, watching her excitement more than the candy itself.

As she walks up to the counter to pay, several patrons, as usual, glare at her as the store owner smiles, "Welcome back, Carry! Oh! You're splurging today! Who's your new friend?" He gestures to Shep.

"My new friend!" she excitedly squeaks, "He's new and I'm showing him around."

"Thadda girl!" He nods to Shep, "You keep her out of trouble. She's my best customer."

As the shopkeeper counts out her change, she's already munching on a gummy coin; offering one to Shep, who notices patrons leaving, not wanting to be in the same store as Carry.

At the counter, he gives the shopkeeper an easy nod. "I’ll do my best," he says warmly. "No promises on the trouble part. She seems pretty committed to fun." As a few patrons filter out, he notices, but keeps his expression even and unbothered. Only after the change is counted out and Carry starts munching does he accept the gummy coin she offers, turning it once between his fingers before tasting it. His brows lift with amused surprise. "You weren't kidding. This is really good." He tips his head toward the door with a soft, good-natured smile. "All right, you're the boss. Where to next?"

She stuffs the rest of the candy into her oversized, similarly shiny purse, taps her chin, then points to the ceiling like a light above her head turned on, "You like to dance?"

The shopkeeper grins, "Watch out, she's good! Best place is the casino."

"Oh you ruined it!" She laughs, never taking her eyes off of Shep, "I wanted to surprise him."

"Well, to be honest," Shep begins, "I was at the casino earlier, before Monkey decided to show me your part of the world." He gives Carry an apologetic half-smile. "I’m not much of a dancer. Most folks say it looks more like I’m defending myself than dancing." He chuckles softly. [OOC: I figured with his low PP, no dancing skill, but with H2H combat skills, that might be the closest he could come to dancing.]

"Well, to be honest," Shep begins, "I was at the casino earlier, before Monkey decided to show me your part of the world." He gives Carry an apologetic half-smile. "I’m not much of a dancer. Most folks say it looks more like I’m defending myself than dancing." He chuckles softly.

Carry’s smirk blooms into something bright and fearless. “I don’t care,” she declares, grabbing his hand with a spark in her eyes. “Come on.” She practically pulls him down the familiar streets, her excitement contagious, her fingers warm in his. The Silver Dance Hall and Casino glows ahead like a lantern in the dusk.

Inside, Hatch and the boys are already hollering in loud, sloppy, triumphant glory; as though they’ve conquered some impossible frontier. Cards slap tables, coins clatter, laughter spills like whiskey. The whole place hums with life. Past the lobby, the dining hall and dance floor open like a softer world. A few couples twirl lazily, others linger over fine plates and quiet conversation. Then, almost as if the universe itself is nudging them forward, the music shifts. A slow ballad rises, aching and raw, sung by a voice that carries the weight of someone who’s lived every sorrow they’re spilling into the room.

Carry pauses only long enough to pull a sucker from her purse, set the wrapper aside, and pop it between her lips. The candy stick juts out playfully as she steps closer than before and slides her arms around Shep. She sways, slow and sure, guiding him into the rhythm. And Shep… he feels her. Something in her energy, her warmth, her certainty. He draws her in, presumably closer than any man has ever dared and lets the music take him. Their bodies find a shared language, quiet and instinctive.

OOC: Dance roll vs PP = 03% <--- okay this changes how I planned this out. The dice love you today.

Up on the stage, the singer notices. His voice shifts, softens, and suddenly the song feels meant for them alone as he sings a tale of lovers lost across lifetimes, across realities, across the multiverse itself. Two souls who kept finding each other through heartbreak, horror, pain, and the long ache of separation.

Carry presses against him, her breath brushing his collar. Two well‑dressed bodies, moving as one, understanding each other without words, but only touch, only closeness, only the slow turning of the world around them.

OOC2: Pausing here to see if Shep enjoys the moment, takes the bait of her womanly-ish ways or sinks into old memories.

Shep isn't sure why, but holding her like this feels natural, almost comfortable enough to let himself forget a few things. For a little while, he lets himself drift with the music and the warmth of her in his arms, not thinking about the years between them or the fact that she is a dee-bee, only that she is beautiful and here with him in this moment. Then his conscience catches up with him. She is far too young for a man his age, and however much life has taught him otherwise, some old, ugly part of him still remembers being raised to see all dee-bees as dangerous. He pulls back just a bit, ashamed of the thought almost as soon as it surfaces. Still, he doesn't pull away completely. What he told her earlier was true. He judges people by how they act, not by what runs through their blood. The world had taught him too many hard lessons to trust fear and prejudice just because other people liked to pass them off as wisdom.

He had cared for women before, years ago, but closeness had always come with a cost. Sooner or later, the nightmares always came back, and when they did, he would wake with a scream, a pounding heart, half-remembered terror, and the echo of something demonic laughing while he ran with nowhere to hide. The women he was with could only take so much of that before distance crept in, so he lets himself have this moment for what it is: warm, brief, and real, without letting it become anything more.