Listening to Alessandra's explanation, the feline's tail twitches lightly back and forth and she says, "I do sincerely wish you both well... I apologize for anything I had said. I was hurt, I suppose... Thank you both for your aid."
After falling silent to let the tall ones speak, she projects, "I have MeowMail... It's encrypted, so I'm going to be a few moments," says the Duchess von Meowselsworth, piping up softly, keeping under a chair.
Rashida clears her throat, looking around to be certain none of the crew is nearby, then raises her voice to be heard by all on deck. "If I might have your attention please? Taraz has departed on the ornithopter. He left it to my discretion as to what to tell you so... he has gone off to pretend to turn against us and to accomplish some things only he can do, and only without the rest of us..."
She breaks off as a crewman rushes on deck. "Lords and Ladies, Lord Ritter was interrogating the prisoner in the brig when, well, ... he's dead! So much blood!" His face is white and panicked.
At Rashida's words, the French dancer looks on forlornly. 'I hope they can be together....when all of this is over. Or at least one Taraz has reached his goals.'
Cassies eyes go wide; "Lord Ritters Dead?!" she pushes the tears back from her eyes knowing action might be paramount. Before the crew-man can correct her...
She starts off through the corridors and down the hatches, not even using ladder she jumps between the decks. Her skirt fluttering as it whips about her body; long legs take her to the heavy brig door. She stops and tries to compose herself... awaiting another of her friends dead bodies. One hand goes to the pistol at her thigh, whilst the other pushes the door open with a creak....
Vorian is stood there blood and darker matter dotting him from the prisoner. Cassie face is a mask of relief and joy, she sqeaks and dives forward embracing the gentleman. "I thought we were to lose you too!" she says holding him tightly.
"I... I am alright, Cassie," Vorian says quietly, caught off guard by her sudden embrace. With a sigh he returns her hug, holding her for a few moments more. "I'm fine..." he murmurs numbly, looking back to the scientist's corpse. What in blazes happened to him? He reluctantly parts from the noblewoman, moving to Whitey's side.
"But Whitey... I don't understand what happened. I had finally gotten him to cooperate. He was on the verge of telling me everything, and then..." Vorian shakes his head, looking down at his blood-splattered outfit. He had just gotten the Ament's crew to clean and mend it for him. "He was the only lead we had."
Rashida looks on from the doorway, having arrived after Cassie. She is panting from the run, one hand on the doorframe. "So you didn't... uh...?" she says to Ritter, one eyebrow raised as she surveys the bloody mess, "Did you learn anything?"
"Not the only lead...." Cassie retrieves the white card that Alessandra had given her from where she had placed it in her her cleavage.
Rashida nods at Cassie. "There are other possibilities, too... though I am interested in hearing what Whitey said before he died."
"Our genetic material was key to the replicants' development; Von Ryuko has been gathering samples from us for years, right under our noses," Vorian says as he tugs his gloves off, "And it seems Whitey was well aware of the... souls his creations possessed. He had completed some kind of research with the Baron's help. He was about to tell me something about Von Ryuko's plan, but..." He shakes his head, rubbing his hands together.
Rashida beckons to nearby crewmen to remove the scientist's body, waiting until they have departed to speak. "I ask because I suspected that Massri scientists may be working with or for the Baron, or that their technology was stolen. Or, gods forbid, they are allied. The Massri have worked hard on regeneration and, shall we say, 'building' people over the past decades. Mindprints, souls, all that sounds very Massri. But the constructs themselves... were the replicas developed from our genetic material? Are they in fact flesh of our flesh? Or are they simply made to resemble us?"
"If only Mimi was here, we may know..." Cassie says mournfully; then she thinks for a second. "So she might actually be my sister!" the tone completely changed and there's a smile across her face a mile wide.
"I would have a sibling!" Cassie nearly does a jig in the blood-soaked room.
"Why don't we ask Mimi, then?" Rashida queries, "Where is she, anyway? I thought she'd be in the hot tub. And a sibling...?" An odd looks crosses Rashida's face as she contemplates that.
Cassie looks at the floor and scuffs her heels; "I heard for the navigator on duty last night... it's only a rumour mind." she says quietly trying to placate and minimise the impact of her words.
"Errr... Mimi flew off with Taraz. It was purely professional, I'm sure." she adds hurriedly. "So you know she'll take good care of him." 'Oh, I didn't mean like that!' Cassie pauses; "Physically, I mean....no....his body." the woman is bright red as she fumbles over her words.
She pauses and take a deep breath; "Mimi can protect him. Soon he will come back to you."
Rashida pales slightly, but nods. "I'm... I'm surprised he didn't mention that in the letter he left for me. But it is just as well he did not have to go alone. And if there are two 'yous' floating around the world, Cassie, that should add some confusion to the mix. It cannot hurt."
She turns to Vorian. "I do not know if you have heard, but Taraz departed in the middle of the night to work this from his own angle. If mentioned, we are to say he used us to return here then deserted us for his own pleasures or self-preservation. We in fact do not know what he is doing, so we cannot slip up. Alessandra and Jin are retreating to Switzerland to defend Masonic artifacts, since the Masons seem to be under attack."
She fiddles with her serpent bracelet. "We need to determine our own courses of action. Make no mistake, my friends. We are at war. There is no guarantee that any of us will survive it. We must move and move swiftly to survive."
"Indeed, it seems my MeowMail was from Mimi... she flew off, and she will be in contact with me when she has more information," says the Duchess, hopping up onto one of the chairs and putting her feet on the table. "I do not fear death, as you all very well know, and I am more than willing to add my resources, meagre though they may be, to use in order to ensure that we win it."
"That would certainly explain why Eldon and Andrezi left us in such a hurry. Things would sour rather quickly if we were to lose the Masons' support... perhaps it is for the better that those two left," Vorian says, brushing his hands off once more, "We can work more efficiently as a smaller group, especially since we need to keep a low profile. The Masonic Order and Lord Rorenson can look after themselves."
"I suppose the most important thing right now would be for us to establish secure lines of communication with our contacts."
Rashida grimaces and looks down at her little serpent, toying idly with it. "I certainly hope you are correct, Lord Ritter. I wish I had your confidence," she says softly, eyes lowered, "In the meantime, I can attempt to find a contact for my old cabal. They might be upset if more people than myself showed up... well, perhaps the Duchess would not concern them, being small. Cassie has her lead as well. If we wish to make contact, I suggest we split into pairs - Lord Ritter and Cassie, and the Duchess and myself - and see what we can find." Her face shows only a soft grief.
Cassie resists going straight over to hug Rashida; 'She's holding it together and I don't want to get this blood smeared on her too!'
"Yes, 2 me's is magnificent - the confusion and chaos!" Cassie's irrepressible spirit bubbles up hoping that she can infuse some to Rashida and the others; although deep down there is the hollow inside where the dark emotions roil. "Very eloquently put; and thank you Duchess it is good to know my sister is safe." she strokes the helmet-cat softly with a clean hand. "Your bravery, intellect and communication ability are invaluable."
"And what say you Sir Vorian, would you like to escort me?" Cassie asks leaving a hand open.
"I would be delighted to," Vorian says with a smile as he reaches out to take Cassie's hand. Before he can grasp her hand however, he stops, his mouth flipping into a frown, "Well, after we get ourselves washed off of course."
Cassie blushes furiously - partially at her faux-pas and partially at his suggestion. Then seeming to draw a fan from thin air; she fans her face lightly. "Promises, promises..."
A cheeky smile creeps across her face, concealed by the ornate lace.
Cassie looks to the dead scientist her blood running cold and she moves out of the room. Encouraging others to follow her lead, she glides down the corridor; "So you two I'll find your contacts. Whilst once Vorian and I are respectable we'll go off the find this Mason?"
She smiles at the gentleman; "Of course, I do have a little side-task to perform as well."
Running a hand through her hair as they get onto the deck, she looks for the Lovers.
Rashida smiles sadly at Meowselsworth. "I hope you do not mind accompanying me, Duchess. Taraz set great store in your abilities and I simply value your company and wisdom."
Offering to carry the fuzzy noblecat, Rashida strolls after Cassie and Vorian, briefing Meowselsworth on the way. "My plans are to accompany the captain to one of the shipyards to ensure the Ament is repaired, then to visit the University. That stop will be short. I simply need to visit a dead drop and leave a message for any survivors. I am at your disposal for anything you wish to do in town. Will your daughter be joining us sometime?"
At seeing Rashida's grief, the Duchess rubs up against her leg, before letting herself be picked up. "Ah, of course I do not mind accompanying you. I find myself surprised that Lord Taraz would have such faith in my skills, as I do not think I have quite that level of confidence myself." Her ears perk up as she listens to the holywoman. "Ah, Mittens? I have sent her coordinate information. If you see a Montgolfier balloon in the sky, it's probably hers, she has a strange fascination with them... If we could stop by the opera, perhaps I could speak to some friends there as well."
In the sky, Mittens does one better than flying her hot air balloon, instead, the Phantom drifts through the sky, moving with an eerie grace that fits with its name. The ship is elegant and very large, with large stained glass windows and brass coloured trimmings, the entire ship made from old and sturdy wood.
The tuxedo cat stands at the helm, steering the ship with her helmet and trying to track down her mother. It shouldn't be too long now to see the fruits of her labour. She's already waited so long...
Rashida smiles at the mention of the opera. "That sounds wonderful! Can we go backstage? I saw a couple of operas whilst in school here but never any of the inner workings. I bet it is all fascinating..." The smile fades as her thoughts trail off.
Suddenly a tear plops wetly into the helmetcat's fur, much to Rashida's horror. "Oh Duchess, I'm so sorry," she sniffles, dabbing at the damp spot with her shirt cuff, then wiping her eyes with the tips of long fingers. "Forgive me, Your Grace. It is a most appalling lapse." She swallows hard and takes a deep breath of the fresh air as they emerge onto the airship's deck, where the crew is busy preparing to dock at a private slip.
"I'll be back shortly. It should not take too long to wash all this off," Vorian says, looking down at his coat again, "And perhaps I can find something tasteful to wear in the wardrobe. I don't wish to stand out, after all."
With a brief bow, Vorian takes his leave.
Cassie looks to the ladies there is slight envy in her eyes, as well as anticipation of what the city will hold. 'Oh, I do hope I get to go to the theatre or the opera.'
She watches as Vorian departs, returning his bow. "You would look good in anything." she says to his retreating form. Rashida's emotions are immediately obvious and the dancer has to restrain her instinct to gather the Goddess into her arms. Instead she follows in her wake; "Oh..." Cassie is speechless to console her friend.
She moves forward and places are arm around Ms Massri's waist.
Rashida stiffens as the dancer's arm slips around her waist and pauses for a moment to compose herself. She turns to speak quietly to her friend, but even as her lips part her eyes fill with tears. She buries her face on Cassie's shoulder and sobs quietly, every muscle taut with the exertion of trying to hold back the overwhelming pain.
She holds Rashida closely to her, eyes filling with sympathy. Gently she strokes the others hair; "It'll be alright. Everything will work out in the end, I'm here for you."
Where the cold serpents touch her skin, Cassie feels a light tingle. The tension drains out of the dancers body as she tries to comfort Rashida. Ambivalent feelings run through her mind; she enjoys helping and being close to her friend - but hates the pain that she is in.
"You never quite get used to it..." Vorian mutters to himself as the hot water pours down, washing what remained off the gore off him. The majority of it had been on his clothing, which he had promptly handed off to a servant to be tossed in the incinerator - after what happened, he no longer had any desire to salvage the outfit. I am usually more familiar with the people whose blood I get on my hands. With yet another sigh, he shuts off the tap and steps out of the shower.
As he dries himself off, Vorian makes his way to the wardrobe on the other side the room and tugs open its large wooden doors. The disappointment on his face is palpable. "She was right, I would make for a terrible Massri," he says with a chuckle, pushing aside several sets of clothing, "Though on the other hand, Cassie did say I'd look good in anything..." Vorian trails off, having startled himself with the familiarity with which he spoke of the other nobles. Had he really grown so familiar with them? He shakes his head and chuckles, before continuing to dig through the clothing. Was there any use in even asking?
"Ah, here we go!" Vorian exclaims, having finally found an outfit that met his standards. It was a simple black suit, with the most subtle of gold trimming around its edges. Hardly extravagant compared to say, the swimsuit. Not one for wasting time, he quickly pulls on the garments, pleasing himself with how well it fit - he had not considered the possibility that it wouldn't. He moves about a bit and nods approvingly; if only all elegant clothing were not so stuffy! Now fully dressed, he takes a glance at the chronometer, seeing that he taken slightly longer than he had hoped for.
Moving over to his suitcase, he retrieves his flask and a slender cane, before making his way out of the room.
Rashida's sobs slowly wind down. After a moment, she pulls gently away from Cassie, wiping the tears away. "I'm so sorry. We have much bigger things to worry about, and here I am breaking down like a child. I apologize. It won't happen again." She sets Meowselsworth down on a nearby table so that the fuzzy noblewoman is at waist-height. "If you will excuse me, I need to go fix up a bit after that. Duchess, would you like some jewelry for our excursion? Perhaps a necklace?"
She gives Cassie a quick hug and whispers "Thank you" in her ear before heading belowdecks to freshen up. The airship crew drops lines and warps the ship down to the dock, lowering it until the gondola's boarding ramp can be deployed. Beyond the docks, the waters of Lake Constance glitter in the sun, palm trees swaying in the oddly Mediterranean breeze. Still, it's much cooler than on the Baron's tropical island, doubtless due to the winds blowing from the snowcapped Alps.
Cassie lets go of Rashida as the moment passes; "Anytime. you don't have to be so stoic.' she whispers back. Before looking down at herself and realising she needs to change.
"You always look so good Duchess. I suppose I need to change, maybe Jeracyla was right and our furs look silly. They certainly get messed up quickly." Cassie says with a slight smile. She quickly goes back to her berth and hops into the shower, before getting ready.
Soon Cassie stands upon deck in an elegant but simple dress; the scooped neck and beaded bodice shaping her; as the curves flow into a soft dress. She looks to the glittering lake, and draws a stole around her shoulders. At her side is the small on the outside purse, with the chill length of the pistol at her thigh. She smiles to Meowselsworth; "Beautiful place isn't it. Reminds me of my home..."
"It's a shame," Vorian says, emerging from below deck. He approaches Cassie and the Duchess, nodding to the latter, "So close to home, yet not once have I ever set foot here. Then again, I suppose I have not set foot in my own home as of late." He looks to the lake, admiring the serene view for a moment.
"Well, at least we can remedy the former. Shall we be off Madam DuSollier? Or should we wait on Lady Massri?"
Rashida stands beneath the warm rain of the shower for just a moment, cleaning off the wreckage of her makeup and trying to relax and control the emptiness within, aching like the socket of a pulled tooth.
This is madness. All of us have worked long and diligently and sacrificed too much to have the cause lost because of my weakness. I came to this expecting to give up everything, not to find love. Now that I begin to understand what giving up all means, I must not allow the pain to make me flag or fail. I know he would not leave except to protect me, drawing the danger to himself. We must use this time as best we can, hoping for a bright future but not expecting it. Not for ourselves, anyway.
She dries herself, face grim, and begins to arm for the battle to come: plaiting her hair, donning a soft chiffon skirt, blouse, and jacket, fastening on heavy gold jewelry like armor, and reapplying her precise makeup. She adds a gold lamé purse and slippers and checks the mirror, hastily retrieving her remaining serpent and restoring it to its customary place on her arm. She surveys the room for a moment, wanders to the writing table to pick up the letter once again, then shakes her head and tucks it into the purse without rereading. The rose is fastened into her hair before she makes her way abovedecks to the remaining three, nodding in greeting and offering a gold and diamond choker for Meowselsworth's approval.
"I'm sorry to be so slow. Shall we be off?" Her tone is determined and her eyes clear again. "Duchess, if you would care to wear this bauble, I think it would suit you. What do you think, Lady DuSollier?"
Kittington's tail twitches in a satisfied ways and she replies to Cassie, "Ah, yes, this is a very nice place. I've never been before, I spent most of my time in Paris. And I thank you, I work very hard to make sure that my fur has a pleasant sheen!" The tiny noble's attention is soon grabbed by the offer of the choker by Rashida.
"Oh, that is very shiny," decides the Duchess, letting out a little bit of a purr at the offer. "It would be my pleasure to wear that, I think it will be very pretty!" The little helmet cat rises up on her back paws for a moment, though only for a moment as the helmet weighs her back down.
"See Vorian, I said you would look stunning. And it's not just the cut of these fine clothes that make the man." she says with an appraising look and a cheeky smile.
As Rashida comes back upon deck to join the rest of them; Cassie gives a little consolatory nod. The airfield is busting with people and technicians. The dancer quickly goes over to the mechanics and talks to them for a few moments, a few last good-byes to her new and fast friends.
She smiles inwardly pleased that people, and Rashida in particular, actually valued her opinion on fashion. "Your taste is impeccable, Diamonds are a girls best friend."
With a little flick of her hips she moves towards the gang-plank; clutch in hand. Onto the wide airfield with it's lush green ground.
"Why, thank you. You look rather stunning yourself... Cassandra," Vorian remarks with a grin, though her name comes out rather sheepishly. It felt so natural to say, and yet the act defied years of practiced etiquette. Not that he wasn't familiar with breaching etiquette, of course.
Tossing up his cane and grabbing it by its midpoint, Vorian follows her down the gangplank, watching his step as he does so. As he reaches solid ground he draws in a deep breath, relishing the surface-level oxygen.
Rashida holds the necklace where the Dutchess can dab at with a paw a time or two, to test it, then gently fastens it around the noble neck, ensuring the clasp catches no fur and that the necklace lies nicely upon the feline ruff. Stepping back, she admires the effect. "The gold and diamonds set off the sheen of your fur quite nicely, Duchess. Your friends will be envious."
Rashida offers an arm to the Duchess and straggles slowly down the gangway, allowing Cassie and Vorian to get some distance before she follows. "I have spoken with my captain. He will visit the shipyard and negotiate for repairs. I can follow later and arrange for payment. The Massri name is good for credit, of course. Now, what would you like to do, your Grace? Opera first, or the University?"
She strolls through the dockyards to the cobblestone road lined with gravel footpaths through the verdant lawns and waves a hand. A short, tanned man driving a bicycle cab pulls over, giving them an appraising eye, and Rashida orders him to take them to the Grand Hotel. She sets Meowselsworth on the lakeside seat for the better view as the man starts up the cab with strong, even strokes of the pedals. White clouds scud across the blue sky, mirrored in the blue lake, as a lovely breeze ruffles their hair and fur.
Putting out her arm so that Vorian can take it with his off-hand, if he wishes, though there is a nervousness that holds a slightly taut line to her body. "You are too kind." Cassies tone has a slight unease to it. After what seems like an age away from civilisation, this feels like the holiday is over and she's back to work.
"Oh there is something I have to do." Cassie continues; "I think it'd be good to head to the bank, I'll get out some money. We cannot have Lady Massri paying for everything."
Vorian takes Cassie's arm in his own wholeheartedly, offering her a reassuring smile as he does so. He allows the cane to slip down his hand once again, dropping its tip to the cobblestone. "Off we go, then!" Linked with the Frenchwoman, he takes the lead, strolling down the road, listening intently as she speaks.
"Yes, of course, a couple thousand marks or so should do the trick," he says absentmindedly, before frowning fulsomely. "I don't suppose we can withdraw that much without drawing attention to ourselves, can we?"
Cassie bites her lip enticingly, "Well... I was planning on drawing slight attention. But I do have a false alias that I was to use." she says slightly nervously.
Leaning into the tall gentleman; "Of course, if it'd attract unwanted attention...." she winks slyly "Sometimes, a lady likes a little attention."
"However just another noble débutante drawing out lots of money is not a problem. Especially if she's some air-head ready to spend it upon dresses and gamble it away." it seems like a role Cassie is used to.
"I suppose Aless... La Professora will simply find another airship to take her to her destination," Rashida says casually, glancing meaningfully at the back of their driver's head, "It should not be difficult to find one headed for London. But it is a shame she will miss the Bodensee. Our other friend may have a harder time finding a ship bound for India. He may be better off going to Marseilles by coach and sailing to Delhi." She gives Meowselsworth a wink and a slight smile.
There are ears everywhere and who knows which are friendly or unfriendly... or simply mercenary?
"You do rather seem fond of attention," Vorian teases, smiling again. As they continue to walk, his eyes wander across the increasingly busy roads. It occurs to him that he honestly had no idea where he was going. After a moment however, he spots a bicycle cab. "Ah, here we go, Lady Massri had the right idea!" He raises his cane to grab the driver's attention.
"To the bank, if you would," Vorian says to him as they board. When the cab does not move immediately, he glowers at the young driver, seeing that his eyes are practically glued to Cassie. Realizing his folly, the driver bashfully pulls down his cap and frantically starts to pedal.
Vorian looks to Cassie and shrugs with amusement. "Well, there you go. Attention."
Cassie flutters her fan before resting it upon her chest; "Oh my, Sir driver it is kind of an important. The bank please!" she flutters her eyelashes softly. 'Might as well get some flirty practise in. I'll need it.' she times softly to herself although there is a hint of self deprecation.
She turns to Vorian and quirks her eyebrow; "Some attention is appreciated" she winks to the gentleman; "whereas others are revolting - like the host of our party."
They pull up before a huge marble building a mausoleum to money and commerce. Column pillars rise like fingers pointing to the sky; people bustle like ants about the giant edifice mindlessly rushing about. Cassie and Vorian join that throng...
She watches Vorian pay as she makes her way into the bank, coolly walking her demeanour changes slightly. Her back straightens, her stride shortens and her jaw slightly juts out. She looks to the private finances area of the bank; where special customers and nobility goes. Clearly she has been to many establishments like this before.
Cassie walks up to a callow youth sat behind a large oak, the thick green leather creaks slightly as the pens nib runs across a piece of paper. Clack She flicks open her fan with a distinctive crack, then starts to slowly waft her bosom. "Sir, I am here with regards to a small transaction. Can you authorise it? Then we can be on our way, maybe we'll see you at the Savoy tonight." Cassie says referencing the fairly famous hotel syndicate, that no clerk would be able to afford - but a noble would.
Rumaging around in her bag she produces a sheet of psychotropic paper, as it comes out of the bag the letters she wishes to be upon it start to darken. By the time it's upon the desk the ink is dark. The clerk reads through it...
"Madame Johanna. It says here that Duke Atriedes has written you a Bearer Bond for" the young mans voice breaks "200,000 Marks!" Cassie leans forward, in an imperious manner as if this happens as a daily occurrence. Whilst at the same time the man gets another distracting view, that she hopes will be enough for him to believe the Dukes signature and seal.
"Encertiment, I did a little favour for him and he rewarded me." Cassie lies smoothly.
"Well, Miss...Madame, it's a lot of money. I'll have to call the manager." He fumbles with his words.
Cassie looks hard at him; a passion in her eyes. "Surely that is not necessary for such a small sum. Duke Atriedes is a rich man, his spice fields are renowned."
The youth rises uncomfortably and turns away, not before one last look at the dancer. He draws the black jacket tight across himself to conceal any unprofessional bulges. Her heart falls and she takes a seat at the desk retrieving the letter with some annoyance. 'Darn I knew it wouldn't be easy. But let's just flirt with the manager and get the money. I wasn't being greedy it's just Leto could afford it and Rashida doesn't need to pay for everything.'
She waits expectantly, then her heart drops as a dour women in a grey suit comes to see her. "I am Matilda Kravitz, the manager. Thom here tells me that you have a letter from Duke Atriedes, that you request 200 thousand Marks for services rendered." the tone indicates exactly what 'services' she believes Cassie has performed.
Thus the French-woman moves to a completely different tack: she clack the fan heavily against the desk. "Frau Kravitz, how dare you inpune my honour as such! Although I am slightly flattered by your valuing of my virtue. I have here a letter from the Mirabaud bank of Switzerland, it authorises the transaction and requests you open the funds to me immediately. I would have used your bank but... " the tone gets more authoritative and louder as she demands the money, taking the sort of posture that would make Dame Devries proud. Cassie pulls out a sheet of paper from her bag and places it on the desk.
Frau Kravitz, reads it then slowly blanches as she realises the paper is real.
'Glad I "borrowed" that stationary my last time I visited the bank.' Cassie thinks.
Frau Kravitz quickly orders the clerk Thom to get the money, in large denominations and bag it whilst she fills out paperwork for the transaction. Matilda retrieves a ledger of all the transactions for the Dukes account and gets Cassie to sign her name. Subtly she scans the list and he knees nearly give out from under her.
The heavy bag comes to the desk and Cassie motions Vorian to pick it up. With grace she gets to her feet and nods to the sneering manageress, who obviously has not changed her opinion.
As the pair move out of the door Cassie remarks; "The last two payments in were from Von R.... & Van der Graff Corporation."
"Indeed, I think she will. Do many airships fly from these parts? I imagine so, it seems so active around here," says Kittington, looking towards the driver at Rashida's meaningful glance and seeming to get the meaning. The feline duchess rubs against Rashida's hand and glances out the window. "I admit that I have mixed feelings about their departure, however."
"Why is that? Sad to see the party end?" Rashida asks, absently raking her long, golden nails through soft fur, "They seemed nice enough but were so tiresomely sincere about doing good. Funny, but the noblest people are the most boring, whereas that boor Taraz Rorenson was certainly the most fun. It's hardly surprising that he fled at the first opportunity, leaving us with all the bills."
The cab pulls up to the foot of a broad staircase of white marble leading up to a wide terrace before a tall, ornate, white building of admirable dignity and pomp. Rashida allows herself to be helped from the cab and delivers a couple of thin gold coins to the cabbie, who bows gratefully. She favors him with a distant smile, not unkind but rather otherwordly, eyes seeming to focus through him rather than on him. He ensures that Duchess Kittington has alighted from his vehicle before pedaling away, shaking his head.
"The Grand Hotel, Duchess! Isn't it lovely? I always wanted to take tea here on the terrace during my student years, but never had the time. I only had him drop us here so that our ultimate destinations would not be easily traceable, but now it occurs that we may wish to engage rooms. I, for one, do not care to stay aboard Ament while it is in the shipyards for repairs! What do you think - tea, rooms, then onward to the University and the Opera?" She sighs, a bit sad though obviously enjoying the soft breezes, sunshine, and blue waters. "I am glad to be finished speaking ill of our friends, Kittington."
It took but a modicum of effort for Vorian play along with Cassie's deception. Perhaps fortunately, not a word is required of him as she practically toys with the bank staff. He simply stands at her side and waits, his expression placid yet impatient. 200,000 marks?! he exclaims to himself, perhaps even more balked by the sum than the bank staff. Nonetheless, watching Cassie's perfect act sets him at ease - he was familiar with this type of woman. The kind that got whatever she pleased, lest there be hell on earth. With the faintest of smiles, he takes the bag at her behest and follows after her.
When he hears the news however, his expression darkens. "Well, I suppose we should not be surprised by the former," Vorian says as they walk, looking through the thickening crowds with a grimace. The Duke had betrayed them all by siding with Von Ryuko. "But the Van der Graff Corporation? I do not understand how they could be involved in all this..." As the pair breaks through the crowd, they come upon a familiar face - the young cab driver, stammering as he tries to explain something to a snobby, impatient nobleman. Needless to say, his efforts are all in vain, drowned out by the noble's tirade.
"This is I have been looking for a cab for and you have the nerve to tell me that you will not provide me with your services? How dare you! I have half a mind to..."
"The poor lad," Vorian says with a sigh, shaking his head, "I asked him to wait on us so that we'd have a ride when we got out. He seemed all too happy to do so; I wonder why..." He flashes a grin at Cassie, before nudging his head towards the boisterous nobleman. "Well, I do not suppose you can diffuse the situation with your feminine wiles, can you?"
"Ah, it is quite lovely!" says Kittington, "And yes, that would seem to be a wise thing..." The little helmetcat walks near Rashida's ankles, keeping her helmeted head up proudly. "I agree, though, I think that all those we had met at that party are strong individuals, with good hearts. Aside from those who refused to assist us in the end..." She peers up and then adds, "But tea, for now, I think it would be good for us to take some tea. What is your favourite kind?"
"I love a good oolong, or lapsang souchon... hmm, it could be time for coffee and a cream cake, though." She smiles at Kittington. "This is a dangerous place. I fear growing fat if we stay for long! I never had that problem as a student. Too busy, of course."
She takes a seat at a small table overlooking the lake, pulling out a chair for kittington. A lovely young woman in a trim dark dress with a starched white apron appears almost noiselessly. "What will mesdames have this afternoon?" she says in an accent of mingled French and German, trying not to stare but looking a bit curiously at the bejewelled helmetcat.
"I think that'd be a fun idea!" Cassie replies with a cheeky grin. She walks over to the blustering fellow with a flick of the hips, gently she taps him upon the shoulder with the tip of her fan.
Standing at an oblique angle as he spins around to look at her. His crimson visage showing an excess of port and a fat white moustache that hangs heavy from his lip like a bushy rodent. He looks at her face assessing, then his vision scans down her body, emphasised by her stance, before moving back up to her face. "What is it Miss, I am an important man." he harrumphs.
"I think you'll find this was my taxi, the young man was waiting for me. I would ask you to squeeze in with myself but that might be inappropriate for a man of your stature." her words are soft and flirty.
However the man takes exception and looks down at his paunch that overhangs his belt. "You calling me fat? I won't have it! A young slip of a girl, I have combs older than you!" he gets more aggravated and starts to shake his head so that his jowls wobble. A crowd slowly gathers...
The flustered man completely disregards them and as the driver tries to move to the vehicle, the ruddy faced gent swings the handle of his cane at the youth. With her honed reflexes Cassie catches his hand and squeezing, she looks him in the eyes. "Sir, you are in public. We are leaving and a Gentleman would not act in such a manner." his arms shake as he tries to push against her. Then she lets go causing the man to nearly fall over.
Cassie turns away to move towards the cab.