sheening | inbox. duplicity.

[ daphne could've sought out a book on the different styles, types, of swords in preparation -- instead, she'll rely on d'artagnan to help, is confident he can make choices about this matter. she's out of her depth regarding it, truly. she's happy to meet him at the park (would have been just fine with an escort from her home, but she does not wish to push when she knows he's from an even earlier time than herself.) the park is nice, simple, and familiar to them both.

she arrives when they said they'd meet, in a soft green regency era dress, hair up in a curled ponytail. not looking at all like she's about to visit a forge, but. girl's not had anything that's gotten her to choose wearing much of any modern clothing.

her throat clears faintly as she comes up, sees that he's busy on his device. ]

Hello, D'Artagnan. Is everything all right? [ he seems frustrated, at least at the device? her head cants just so, eyes and tone gentle. she'll help if she can!! but doesn't wish to pry in case it's a more sensitive subject bothering him. ]

[D'Artagnan looks up from his device almost suddenly as Daphne clears her throat upon her approach, standing a little straighter, one finger hovering over the screen as the phone sits precariously in the awkwardly curled fingers of his other hand. He hasn't adapted to modern clothing either, finding the quality and comfort of most items sacrificed for their overproduction, unsuitable and impractical in his eyes, though his own may seem the more complicated on the number of fastenings alone.]

Daphne.

[He has a fleeting quick smile for her, and nods his head a little in greeting, no clear agitation present beyond a flustered sort of sigh as he lifts his hand away from the device and gestures at it as if he's given up on something impossible. Another small exhale, and he shoves the device into an adjustable holster with far too many buckles, where his pistol use to reside, and the device doesn't entirely fit well, but he's taken to keeping it there, speaking while he forces it into the space.]

Oh. Yes, it's... I've not visited the forge previously, so I'd thought to use this... map, but I find it a nuisance and unhelpful. We'll find our own way, I'm sure. A forge among buildings such as these shouldn't be terribly difficult to spot if we've the right street.

[ she appreciates seeing him in the clothing that is most comfortable, familiar, to him, too. hardly unfamiliar with complexity in her own dresses as well, though d'artagnan's donned apparel is appreciated with a neutral glance rather than any insights on just how complex men's clothing of certain times might be (including her own!)

she watches as he puts the device away in, not a pocket as she's seen so many do, but in a holster. her brows lift, unable to push away the touches of an entertained smile that lifts on her lips.

daphne nods when he answers, already giving way to accepting that they'll find their way just fine. ] I have not looked at the maps on it myself, although there is an...option you may use that will speak directions aloud as you go. It does not sound a regular, human voice. [ her head shakes faintly, nose scrunching for a second. ] I have only used it when absolutely necessary.

And I am sure, together, we can find our way. Do you know if it is the Up or the Down? That seems to be the best place to start, for I'm afraid I have not heard its location myself.

[His lips curl downward in distaste as Daphne mentions the inhuman voice, and that she's avoided that option herself.]

I think I'd use it sparingly as well, I've enough strange looks having this take my own words.

[He's slowly coming around to the idea that texting is, while not an easier task than speaking to the device, a more private communication as far as one can be in this city. On the subject of the forge, D'Artagnan gestures for them to head off from the park, and he'll keep pace with Daphne as they walk.]

It's in the Down, where I've not been since the initial... train tour.

[ her forehead creases with a nod. ]

It is most absurd and foreign, even still. I am not sure I shall ever become wholly familiar with it. [ perhaps a regency lady just can't -- though she thinks that kate and eloise both seem to function well with their devices.

she follows the direction he starts off on, leisurely moving. daphne frowns, lips twisting just so to the side. ]

There is a means to go the Down without it, thankfully. It is called an...elevator. An unusual creation, a contained platform, but it is not particularly loud. Jarring, though, as it is a tiny room with large metal doors that close tight before you move through the air, where when it stops, you can then walk out freely out and onto the ground of the Down.

[ on they go, her attention drifting occasionally as to maintain easy, comfortably energy between them. ]

Have you visited many a forge in your day?

Is there, that goes all the way down?

[It seems quite far for him, but he's only judged the distance form the train, and he'd had other more pressing matters occupying his thoughts.]

They've elevators in the building I live in. I've not used them often, I prefer the stairs, but I'm familiar with their existence. I think I'd like that more than the train.

[At this point, where he doesn't know how large it is and how many people might be crowded in there.]

No, not forges so much. Blackmsiths, when something needed to be repaired, or something small made. I doubt there's a large distinction between them here.

[ she nods, brows rising in emphasis as to her own reaction to the elevator as well. listens as he continues, mentioning the ones in what she assumes is a public domicile for dominants, cheeks rising at how he prefers the stairs. ]

It is most unusual, I did not see how it could truly function when I heard of it. Stairs, at least, you can see the fullness of. Can touch what they are made up of with your hands, have stability under foot. [ a soft sigh and resigned hum, though daphne's mood maintains as pleasant, friendly. the technology is always jarring but -- ] I have ridden in it a few times, and it has always reached its destination securely, at least. Odd to not understand its physical components.

[ she nods slowly, thinking of what she may know of the distinction between a blacksmith, and a forge. she has visited neither, no surprise. ] And...are you thinking of a type of sword I may start with, to wield?

[D'Artagnan smiles slightly, a knowing and relieved look sent Daphne's way as she talks about the confusion of the elevators, the mechanisms and true structure of the machinery out of plain sight and made more difficult to comprehend.]

That's a common problem, I find. No one seems to explain it fully without having to ask so many particular questions when I don't understand the most basic of things they... operate on. Like electricity. I've still no idea how something that lights the room can also keep the... refrigerator... cold. Or the water hot.

[He's seen one display of magic, and that was not any more confusing than the concept of electricity, both foreign or strange and inexplicable. He sighs in the same resigned manner as she had, more of peevish undertone to it as the entrance to the elevator can be seen up ahead down the street.]

At least you can attest to its reliability.

[On the topic of swords, he purses his lips in consideration, looking over at Daphne in a more assessing way. She's thin with little obvious strength in her upper body, and the way she might defend herself on instinct has to be taken into account too.]

Something light, but strong, weighted more at the hilt. Sharp, so that you might not need such force to pierce through... some resistance.

[Clothing or muscle.]

Let me ask you, if there were a strange man in your kitchen one night when you've come home, what would you do if you had little time to react? Run, call for help, grab a pot or a candlestick and hit him over the head?

[ daphne's attention remains keen on him, nodding as he goes, nose wrinkling in emphasis when he brings up the nuances of electricity. ]

I have not encountered a single explanation that is simple enough for me to grasp on the matter. For how limitless the...whatever runs it is capable of doing so.

[ perhaps they shall both live in a perplexed state by the entire reality of modern day utilities. she gives a small nod and smile regarding the elevator, brows lifting when she spots its familiar entrance.

she pays close attention to how he answers her question, head tilting curiously as they move through the street. he rounds to a figurative situation once they are steps away from the elevator's entrance, SIN guard there and already casting a glance between the two of them. but daphne keeps her attention solely on d'artagnan. a very faint pink creeps up on her cheeks as she realizes she has an answer at the ready, as per her first meeting with pietro.

she's confident in her answer, perhaps a touch too assured for someone who clearly has no experience wielding a weapon. ]

I would grab the closest object I could find, whack him good and hard, then I would call for help. Perhaps with my device, or out upon the street, after ensuring he was out cold.

[ absolutely not how she's fully reacted in the past, but she's sincere! waving a kitchen towel around, grabbing a butter knife as a weapon, those memories rest with her. clearly they'd been ineffective with pietro's obtrusive presence, and what if he had been a threat to her home? ]

[As they past the checkpoint, D'Artagnan steps a little closer and slightly in front of Daphne, as if to clearly show they're on this outing together and following enough of the social moors in public, and the SIN guards need not pay undue attention to them. He meets their eyes with a level gaze, keeping his underlying distaste for it all hopefully hidden far enough down in the depths of his eyes not to come off as challenging. They're let past as they continue their conversation, and D'Artagnan only briefly shifts his focus from Daphne to look around the large elevator and familiarise himself with the space. His lips twitch as he notes the pale blush rising over Daphne's cheeks, knowing from her tone in that moment she'll be able to handle herself if given the proper instruction in a sword.]

Good. Having the instinct to defend yourself is very important. Weapons will do you no good if you're prone to running away or freezing up when faced with some sort of danger. You need to make decisions within a very short time frame, sometimes seconds, and if you hesitate, you leave yourself open.

[The elevator shudders once as it begins its descent, and D'Artagnan places his hand on the wall, the movement still an awkward feeling.]

You can panic after you've disabled or detained your opponent.

[ daphne finds herself sighing reflexively in relief at how d'artagnan places himself, takes that lead that she's content to pass over to any dominant she trusts. they've not known one another for very long, but he has that air of taking care of business all while being protective when necessary that puts her at ease. she tries to ignore the guard, following him onto the elevator. listens as he responds to her answer, brows lifting, a surge of confidence in her chest at the affirming words. she has not thought herself hopeless -- that's simply not the bridgerton way -- but of course it feels good to have someone skilled with a sword reveal that her immediate answer to such a prompt had been a good one.

she takes the tiniest step toward him when the elevator moves, nodding when he goes on. watches him carefully, wanting to size up if he's all right in the over-sized contraption but doing so silently. ]

It is...important to me, to keep myself, my sister, as safe as we can be. It was not an issue we ever had to concern ourselves with at home. There were guards. But...this place is...different.

[ and as the elevator door opens, she looks to him with a twitch of her lips. hesitates for a second before she steps closer. ] May I take your arm, as we go into the Down? [ she's not so comfortable there, and would prefer this. the feeling of having an escort she's linked with, can keep close to. ]

[He seems relatively fine in the elevator, if a little vexed, but does keep his hand on the wall the entire time, only partially aware of it. Daphne's outlook has him nodding slightly as she steps more into his space.]

I'm sure your sister appreciates the trouble you go through for her. Adapting is difficult, but I find you a very pragmatic woman and I don't think you'll be deterred in your efforts to do so.

[D'Artagnan should have some of that determination himself, failing a bit with his own attempts at adjusting to things, but it remains an issue for later. He can concentrate on helping Daphne, and at least do some good for someone else while he gets his own bearings. When they arrive in the Down and she moves closer, that concerned twitch of her lips, he offers his arm immediately, eyes flicking towards the doors as the heat and humidity of the underground can already be felt seeping into the elevator the moment they're open.]

Of course.

[He leans down a little to speak to Daphne in a quieter voice.]

I've a dagger at my back, take it if you need to.

[After that caution though, he looks almost apologetic for implying it might be necessary to fend off an attack, that the Down is that much more dangerous.]

Which, um, you'll not... need to, I'm sure.

[He starts off the elevator then, with an audible exhale of contrition, making sure Daphne gets out of the contraption safely before turning in the direction he believes the forge to be.]

[ daphne’s brows lift just so, glimmers of amusement and appreciation in her eyes. she hasn’t told eloise about this task she’s undertaking, though she has gotten into the habit of leaving a note or telling her sister directly if she’s planning to go out to meet someone. seems like the wise choice. she appreciates d’artagnan’s honest compliments, soft smile lingering.

she links her arm into his seamlessly, tucking in close as she can so they’re able to walk. her brows do lift, eyes going wider, soft gasp tumbling from her lips. her hand squeezes tighter onto her arm for a second, but daphne’s gaze quickly steadies and firms. she nods once. ] I shall make use of it as necessary.

[ confidence should help in the face of danger, no?

her eyes wander a bit as they start to move further onto the street, teeth kneading a small part of her bottom lip. ]

I have not run into trouble here, though have in the Up. [ a quiet admission, tone faintly embarrassed. ] It is not so dangerous a city, not until there are sudden upticks of pointed chaos that seem to come from no particular catalyst. [ how comforting!

she lets her gaze hold on the sidewalk until it draws back to his face entirely. ] I have heard it is a freer place to speak. The Down.

[ she hesitates, though only momentarily. ] Am I correct in presuming your watch for danger is constant, D’Artagnan?

[He dismisses the embarrassment in her tone with an admission of his own to that end.]

Truth of it, I've had more trouble up there too, just after my arrival when they'd been rounding up the defectors to that other city. Veracity? I presume that was an uptick.

[D'Artagnan had tried to help some people avoid the SIN guards and bounty hunters and it hadn't ended well, having no idea what he was getting into in terms of how ubiquitous surveillance is and how easily the guards could subdue people no matter their strengths, as the woman he'd gone with was entirely superhuman in his eyes, but stood not a chance. He slows as they reach a corner, looking down the intersection, going left, quite sure it's the right direction though he hadn't memorised the street names. Glancing at Daphne, he nods at her comment, as he's heard the same sort of assurances about the Down, where people might speak more openly about their seditious thoughts. Her question has him thinking on it for a moment, eyebrows knit together, pursing his lips. It's not something he'd thought about, his tendency towards vigilance. His hand drifts over the hilt of his sword.]

I'd like to think it is, but I've been caught off guard before. Is that... strange to you?

[Daphne had mentioned she'd not needed to fear so much in her own world, but he's sure that's due to someone else's protection further down the line she might not even be aware of, servants or guards looking out for the interests of her family in good standing.]

[ daphne looks to him, empathy shining in her eyes, gaze drifting back over the stone of the street when he brings up veracity. a time she wishes had not occurred, given how it meant those close to her had to go to prison. her home had been quieter, though at least she'd the pets for company, plus made a new friend. even if that friendship had started largely due to her nearly walking into danger. the tribulations of life in duplicity.

her expression does falter for several moments, though she tries to keep it at bay. perhaps simply a reaction to how there'd been an uptick in chaos, rather than how it had personally impacted her.

she looks back to him with the shift of his weight as his hand goes to his sword. daphne swallows softly, glancing away down the street. unsure of what path they really ought to be taking, so entrusting d'artagnan to lead them. her voice is soft, tone careful. ] No. There is no man or woman who has a perfect capacity for attention. We are all caught off guard, at times. Some, perhaps more than others. Especially so, if we are not accustomed to watching for it. Yet even then...a trained eye becomes tired, too.

[ she pauses, lips pursing to the side, brows furrowing. ] It does seem rather essential when using a sword. You are certain I can learn? [ her nose wrinkles. ] I am not used to thinking myself unable to do a task I set my mind to, but my physical strengths have been limited to dancing. Horseback riding. It is...something I consider now. [ as they walk. passing conversation, but she is curious what he may have to say about it. ] Mental fortitude and physical strength do seem to go hand in hand, in this case.

[He has a bit of a yielding smile for that assertion, nodding at her soft words and subtly moving his hand further away from his sword.]

The eye does grow weary.

[As they start to move towards an area with smaller buildings lining the streets, they'll come upon the forge soon enough, the scent of smoke and metal lingering near it that tells him they're in the right direction and it's not far, perhaps near the end of the street. He places his hand over Daphne's arm linked with his, after she expresses her doubts about herself.]

I'm certain. You might view your dancing as something more skilled than you think. It's not always about brute strength, Daphne.

[D'Artagnan might be tall, but not very broad or muscular, and he relies far more often on skill and agility himself with a physically stronger opponent.]

You've got to be quick on your feet, like your dancing, and you'll have coordination and balance on your side if your weapon is light enough to wield and doesn't impede you. We'll leave the broadswords at present, play to your strengths with something that compliments them.

[ daphne is not as astute about the smells that blend into the air. the down is a wholly different place, dirtier and danker than what she's accustomed to. her lips quirk at the corners, eyes drifting to see where his hand falls.

grey eyes sparkle as he replies to her expressions of some insecurity, fully focused on what d'artagnan says. how he chooses to assure her that what he speaks has a firm foundation. her mouth parts when he initially brings up her dancing, starting to smile at the strengths he sees in that skill. her voice is soft, confidence returning. ]

I trust we shall find something that works well for my first forays into learning how to handle a sword. And...with those reassuring affirmations, I shall not doubt myself again. Dancing does take a grand deal of skill, of grace. I can see how it will be beneficial.

[ drawing toward the end of the street, daphne can't help but cling a touch tighter when she hears a crackle, a clang, the forge now in view. her head tilts. ] It must be rather hot there, no?

I'm glad to see you've faith in yourself, Daphne. It's important.

[Sometimes that makes all the difference in dire situation, as reckless as some might see it. As she tightens her hold on his arm, D'Artagnan gives her a reassuring look, but he can't entirely hide the amusement in the depths of his eyes. He doesn't pause in his stride to enter the forge, even as the noises grow louder, hammering and pounding of metal, the grinding squeal of a blade being sharpened, the rush of steam to cool and set things. The sounds are familiar to him and don't ring as loudly as the car engines or strange music in shops, despite the volume.]

Very hot, with rather open fires.

[Bordering on sweltering with the Down's constant humidity and higher temperatures.]

Take it as an adventure, unless you'd rather wait outside, my Lady?

[His tone is sarcastically teasing, perhaps more than it should be.]

[ daphne nods firmly at that. ] It is. For everyone to possess confidence in their abilities.

[ the most metallic sounds she's ever been accustomed to are the clicks associated with carts and horses, maybe sounds from the kitchen as she would go by. most of daphne's life has been quiet, save for the sounds of family and music. getting into a grittier space, it's something new for her.

but she regards d'artagnan with a slow turn of her face, brows lifting high, eyes suddenly firmer. prouder. pressing as she makes a soft sound, an imploring, defiant hum. ] No, I shall attend the forge fully alongside you.

[ gonna hold onto his arm more tightly as they go, yep, but she's committed to exploring, to seeing what the forge is all about, to being a part of this at every stage.

her forehead creases at the heat that hits her skin, fabrics of her dress and underthings already threatening to cling tighter to her skin. yet daphne glances around, taking in the sights and sounds of the forge. ] It...is involved, to a greater extent than I may have thought, constructing, shaping, molding a sword. [ an idle observation as her eyes dance about. she yearns to be an active participant, her attention drawing in on a man working there, in mid-activity with tools. her chin lifts toward him, her face leaning over to d'artagnan. ] It is a blacksmith that works here, no?

[ part of her wants to be able to dive in and tell the craftsman what they're in need of too, but she still allows him to lead them forward. ]

[The nod he has for that show of determination is one of respect, and he ignores the tighter hold on his arm, doesn't draw attention to it. D'Artagnan takes the time to look around too, some of the equipment foreign to him, some of the materials, but the general set up and nature of the space reminds him very much of the smaller blacksmiths areas in Paris he'd been to. Open space that feels more enclosed with the heat of it, and he pulls at the buttons on his jacket to open more of them. Daphne's observation is noted with a low agreeable hum, as D'Artagnan follows her gaze to the man clamping a red hot length of metal, ready to hammer it flatter at the edge. He's noticed them and holds his hammer off for the moment.]

Yes, I believe so. I don't know if they've another term here.

[Catching the man's eye, he steps forward, but doesn't make any move to see that Daphne stays back, including a look towards her while he greets the blacksmith and states their purpose for the visit, the basics of what they might be looking for in a sword specifically made for her.]

Have you opinions, Daphne? What you might like that I haven't covered.

[It will be her sword, after all.]

[ daphne nods faintly when d'artagnan answers, steps with him as they approach the blacksmith. she has heard the names of swords before, but knows little of potential variants.

she glances to d'artagnan at first, hesitating because, well, does she have opinions? her chin rises: of course she does! ]

It will be my first sword. [ best to start out with that, truth and pride in her voice as she speaks to the blacksmith who gives her a quirk of a smile. anyone who sees her might be able to guess she doesn't frequent forges. ] Whatever you think shall be suitable for my height and weight, one that I may wield with confidence that shall not diminish my desire to learn its proper use.

[ she holds her head and shoulders straight, hand tucking in tighter around d'artagnan's arm. ] I would care for the...hilt to have a personal affect, so it can be more my own. Something...elegant. Silver. Or, blue. [ she's not sure if it seems vapid to crave such a thing, but daphne does not falter in this request or in stating -- ] I shall like my initials on it as well. D-B. [ for either bridgerton or bassett, how convenient.

the blacksmith seems amenable, but turns to regard d'artagnan at the same time that daphne looks over to him as well. ]

That shall suffice, I believe, do you not? [ those are her opinions, but help her out if she's missing something important? ]

[It's difficult not to smile as Daphne makes her statements. She's clearly intent on learning, excited with it even, and D'Artagnan finds himself reminded of some of the more eager cadets, taking pride in things they've not yet learned, simply the fact that they've a chance to. Her attitude lends itself well towards his brand of instruction, where he might be direct and blunt with criticisms or suggestions and she'll not dismiss them and quit so easily. D'Artagnan exchanges an amused glance with the blacksmith as Daphne goes on to specify a colour scheme and embellishment for the hilt, but it's with an endeared sort of mirth instead of something mocking, and he nods as Daphne turns to direct her question towards him.]

Yes, above and beyond sufficient, I should think. You'll have a handsome sword at your side, Daphne.

[The blacksmith isn't deterred from her requests, and assures them he'll be able to fashion something suitable, suggesting she try some of the swords set out against the back wall to give him an idea of weight. It's going to take a while, and likely have to pick it up later.]

inbox. duplicity.

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