"That sounds like a good idea, but... where are they going?" Rashida looks at the Duchess with puzzlement. "I don't think they are heading the right direction. We had better observe before we commit."
"Indeed," says Kittington, watching for the time being. "I think that's a good way to do it. I just want to make sure that we do not miss any opportunities..."
"You know, you are very quiet and able to move about without being noticed. You could always... what is the vernacular?... 'tail' them without drawing attention, listen to what they are saying. No offense meant at that unfortunate term. I could follow at a distance where I would not be too obvious." Rashida tries hard to keep from clapping her hands but cannot keep from smiling. "Oh, this would be just like those espionage penny dreadfuls! What fun!" She hastily pulls a few thin gold and silver coins from her purse and lays them on the table, then looks at the Duchess inquiringly. "Well, should we do it?" she asks eagerly.
The lieutenant signals his men with his free hand and comes to a halt. "Madam Captain, you are going the wrong direction. If you refuse to come with us, we will have to insist upon it. We prefer to be courteous to guests, but if they resist, well, they leave us no choice."
There are tiny *snaps* from behind as the holster covers are loosened.
Ysillith's powerful stride carries her along for but a few more moments as she seems oblivious to her entourage stopping, her intent obviously on following the moving ship.
"No, I know exactly where I be going. To see about said ship." Ysillith openly declares. Then, slowly she turns. Her dark eyes looking at the gendarmes, a smile upon her face. Her sable tresses shifting and shimmering over the back of her great coat.
"So...ye've stopped bein' all peaceable, like?" Her voice purrs.
"Might there be, oh...some other way? To which we could come to an accord...?" She asks, beautiful dark eyebrow arching perfectly. Her voice soft even as she stands firm, legs set comfortably and her staff held centrally betwixt both her gloved hands. A shiver, as if of anticipation, is seen to run through her.
"Of course, I do not make threats lightly nor do I take them lightly, either. So, I'd be assumin' you be wantin' to try an' do this the easy way...?" She finishes, her voice lowering slightly into the same husky purr that she'd earlier drawled into the lieutenant's ear.
The faint hum continues...
"Madam Captain, it is the will of our King that all who walk his lands be known to him by the simple means of passports and registration. I am a loyal servant of His Highness and seek only to do his will. His laws are simple and the burden light. I have told you what is required and you now state your intention to ignore His Majesty's will and follow your own. You put me in a difficult position, Captain Mearlleux."
"I do not know what business you have with the Massri clan, but surely it can wait until after you have your papers - a matter of half an hour at most, if you do not delay further. I am trying to do this the easy way, Madam Captain, as it is also the will of His Majesty that we be courteous and hospitable to visitors. It seems to me that you wish to make this difficult, for reasons I cannot fathom. Why would you wish to do that, pray tell?"
The lieutenant's handsome face has gone cold, his eyes wary. The policemen have not drawn any weapons, but stand ready for action.
Ysillith sighs, though her yes continue to drift to the left and right as she watches the men now arrayed before her,
"And here I were....hoping to avoid any..imperial entanglements..."
Her stance does not shift, hands holding the center of her brass, bulb'd ended stave.
"Are ye sure I can not entice ye int' acceptin' somat fer our paths t' go their separate ways?" And she shifts her stance slightly, such that a long, curved leg angles more to the fore.
"Madam, you shame both of us with such an implication. And in front of my men! I cannot understand why you would wish to avoid simple registration, unless you had been to this planet before and had something to hide. If that is not the case, please come along. If you insist on refusing, I am forced to assume you cannot bear scrutiny."
At the lieutenant's last words Ysillith throws back her head and laughs aloud. Her tone rich and full of mirth before looking back at the gendarmes and replying,
"Oh luv, I can take all the scrutiny ye'd be likely able to dish out." The gaze she gives all the men is neither subtle, nor are her obvious carnal desires hidden.
"And it is Captain...As fer being here afore? " And something in her stance shifts...her shoulders squaring,
"Where I come from, me an' mine? We be the tales women tell their children as they tuck 'em in to keep them quiet at night. Mine are the creatures who stalk men's dreams as they turn to nightmare." She looks haughtily at the lieutenant,
"If ye don't know enough about a Satyxis t'be afraid? Then there's never been a Satyxis here t'put the proper fear in't ye in'a first place." She smiles and this time there is an almost feral gleam in her eyes.
"Though...and I can't help but notice, one sort of predator t'another, ye understand. Why is it ye all have different hand guns in yer holsters?" She asks, an arched eyebrow showing her inquisitiveness and curiosity.
"Could it be ye're lookin' fer some one else and found me t'yer tastes instead?" She tilts her head slightly.
"Now ye be on warnin'. Are ye sure ye want ta dance with this Satyxii who's feelin'a might frisky?" She squares away and awaits their decisions, her hands still braced upon her brass staff and long, black booted feet set ready for any affray.
Lieutenant Kurtz bristles visibly at the woman's lewd behavior and now overtly vulgar display.
"Madame Captain Mearlleux. You leave me no choice." His stance changing to one of stiff military precision, his following men at arms instantly mirroring his straightening to attention.
"I charge thee with indecent and improper behavior. Resisting..."
The horned woman moves. One end of her staff clicks open even as she sweeps said item down and across the street. Where she points a scintillating green beam lances forth, striking the pavement and cobble stones and instantly blowing them into a billowing cloud of dust.
The lieutenant and his men's reflexes are nothing short of military precision, pulling their side arms and snapping their arms forwards to shoot into the roiling, billowing cloud of stone dust.
With one arm covering their faces the gendarmes advance, though a pair quickly move side ways to give their comrades an angle of potential covering fire and support as they move to close upon their target.
Only to see billowing coat tales disappearing around the nearest corner, quickly followed by a shrill woman's scream.
The lieutenant gives curt hand signals, even as he runs towards the building's corner. Two of his men race along the far side of the street ready to add their covering fire to his own as he gingerly peers around the side of the building his mow fleeing quarry has turned.
Cassie looks across to Vorian; with just the slightest of Gallic shrugs and raised eyebrows - as if to say; 'He might prove useful, if not we can ditch him. He's probably has no knowledge of Von Ryuko, a mason like Haigh wouldn't let his nephew be involved with him. So we follow him for now.' Certainly with a few movements she is very expressive.
Drakes bawdiness draws a slow soft smile across her face, the crimson lips bow and part slightly. "Oh... you are certainly a rake!" her words don't show disapproval "But of course you know Vorian Ritter, say are you acquainted with Hansel Algora? A fine young man so I hear."
Looking back to Haigh as he quietly converses with a hunched shop assistant, Cassie then continues. "So Drake do you know much about slight knife wounds?" her tone light as she avoids eye contact. Under the physicians gaze he can just see the end of bruising to her face and neck.
Peering around the corner of the building Lieutenant Kurtz sees a woman leaning against the building's wall, possibly where she has been so rudely pushed. She breathlessly waives an arm in the direction of the nearest alley-way across the street.
Lieutenant Kurtz motions to on of his men, even as he himself quickly sprints across to the indicated alley. with two officers close behind. The previous pair nod at their lieutenant's hand signals and continue to race along the main street, onwards to try and get to the other end of the alley way.
Peering around carefully, Kurtz does not immediately see his quarry. He frowns, wondering how fast the stranger might be, remembering her loose clothing and very...athletic build. Making his decision he resumes the chase, though his eyes dart to either side checking into door-ways and such, as he races along the alleys' length.
The lady gathers her composure, nods a breathless thanks to the remaining gendarme who stps back, offers a brisk and formal salute before he too races off after the rest of his fellows.
The woman gathers her skirts and continues on her way, turning the corner the rushing group had just come from....
....Only to instantly shimmer into a different woman who begins to stride confidently back towards the main thorough far and thence after a certain air-ship.
Rashida groans and drops back into her chair. "Well, that didn't turn out well at all for us. I can't tell where she went, can you?" She shakes her head sadly at Meowselsworth. "I suppose we should go to the dead drop or the opera, unless you have the ability to tell beings apart by scent."
Vorian returns Cassie's shrug, as if to say, 'It's your call'. He looks to Drake again, contemplating the young man's claim. "Hm. I suppose you might have heard my name in passing. I've certainly dabbled in politics and economics over the past few years," he says, as he looks upon the jewelery inside of the glass counter. "Though, my true calling has always been of a more... adventurous nature."
Just as he sets his eyes on a fine-looking necklace, he hears Hansel's name mentioned. Ah, that is right. Perhaps I had better let him know that I am alright... Reaching into his coat, he retrieves a slip of parchment. Borrowing a pen from the counter, he scribbles something down before folding the note over. "Before you leave... Lord Haigh, would I be wrong in suspecting that you have access to communications equipment?" Vorian asks quietly once the shopkeeper is done speaking to his helper, "I have been looking for a secure connection so that I could get a message out. Would you mind transmitting this note? The frequency is written down on it..."
After speaking to Lord Haigh, he returns to the others, looking to Drake and Cassie. "Well then, shall we be off?"
Cassie puts out her left arm for the doctor and the right for Vorian; ensuring he is upon her gun side just in case of trouble. And she doesn't want to have to explain why she has a silvered gun strapped to her thigh to the newcomer.
"I do. I have both a developed nasal capacity, and helmet sensors that enhance my senses beyond that of a normal cat. It is just a matter of breaking down chemicals in a proper sort of way," says Meowselsworth, "Having said that, I don't think I got a good enough smell of her in the first place. But being a different sort of creature, I imagine I will be able to pierce the disguise. I just do not have enough information to track... If we cannot catch up to her, perhaps the Opera? I quite miss it!"
Her eyes turn up towards the sky as the shadow of The Phantom passes above, the ship's movement eerily silent as per its name, and what sound it does make sounds as if a song on the wind.
In breathless surprise, she says, "The Phantom! But... it was destroyed! How?"
Ysilith stops and watches another vessel sail over head. For a moment she does nothing, then casually continues her pace -the cane in her one hand making a metallic 'tapping' as she walks along.
"What? The Phantom? How can that be, Duchess? But.. perhaps it is not really the Phantom but a sister ship, a lookalike built at the same hangar?" But one glance at the astonished helmetcat convinces Rashida that the intrepid feline knows of what she speaks - as usual.
With unusual celerity, Rashida dashes to the bottom of the Grand Hotel's steps, frantically flagging down a bicycle rickshaw and waiting for Meowselsworth to catch up. As soon as they are both seated, she says breathlessly to her companion, "Do you want to say it or shall I?"
Kittington looks over towards her companion and then back up towards the sky and nods once, "Driver, follow that airship!"
And then they are off, dashing after the floating Phantom, which drifts slowly across the sky, just slowly enough that they will be able to keep up with it. Still, there are twists and turns that would make this feel like a genuine sort of chase! As the airship flies, it has little regard for roads and obstacles, and so there are times that the rickshaw falls behind, and then catches up. Eventually, upon arriving at the airstrip, the Phantom drifts down to land, the pained creaking of wood signalling that it has truly settled, the song on the wind coming to a climax and then to a halt. This ship is identical to the Phantom, down to the smallest detail, the possibility that it could be a different ship fades the more details one takes in.
"My word..."
It should be impossible, nobody would have been able to repair the ship so quickly. With the bombs that had rocked the Duchess's old airship, wrecking it so thoroughly that it was almost certain that it would never fly. But the paint is intact, every detail is perfectly in order.
Not a small while later the figure of a well dressed woman comes sauntering from a side street, can rapping along the sidewalk.
As the buildings give way to air-filed she stops and takes in the sight.
Rashida claps her hands with glee when Kittington says the magic words, earning a look from the put-upon driver who pedals furiously to try to keep pace with Phantom. He is huffing and puffing by the time they come to a halt at the airfield, coughing a little ostentatiously as the two noblewomen sit in his conveyance and survey their quarry.
The ship certainly looks like Kittington's, at least like what Rashida could remember of the tattered old thing. But this ship is certainly not repaired; rather, it is pristine. She observes her companion closely for a moment, then murmurs, "Is it she? Is this the precious Phantom, truly?"
"This is the Phantom. It is... as she was when I had arrived at Von Ryuko's party..." says the helmetcat, seeming truly astonished. "How is it possible, though? It is as if it was simply plucked out... of a... memory..." Her speech slows as if she is making a realization.
Ysillith stalks across the air-field's apron, her direction taking her towards the rickety looking carriage that has stopped near the most recent airship she has seen and been following.
"If it is the Phantom, then you have every right to go aboard, my friend. Shall we?" Rashida emerges from the rickshaw and hands the driver a couple of coins. Behind the pedicab, she sees a tall woman striding towards them, holding a brass staff that looks most familiar, though the woman does not. "Duchess, I believe we have company," she whispers to the helmet cat, waving the driver away to keep him from the line of fire, if there is any. Just in case.
Ysillith walks up towards the first person alighting from the small carriage,
"Good day t'ye." She calls, having stopped some ten or so feet from the rickshaw. Ysillith lifts a hand to brow, as one might make the inclination of tipping a hat. Her other hand rests casually upon the brass staff she carries.
"Hello," the delicate bronze woman replies calmly, black eyes looking at Ysillith and somehow beyond at the same time, "Welcome to the city." She ventures the last a bit hesitantly, as if a guess, glancing at the brass staff. Her light chiffon outfit flutters in the lake breeze, which makes her golden jewelry dance - except for the gold, green-eyed serpent which twines about her forearm.
After a slight hesitation, she asks bluntly, "Did Von Ryuko send you? If he did, we are defenseless, as you can see." She indicates herself and the small cat with a graceful wave of her hand.
Ysillith tilts her head, as if in question, and a slight tinkling as if of jewelry moving might be heard.
"Von Rooko...?" She says the words....as if testing them for the first time. "Nah, not a name I'm familiar with. Sounds Khadoran though. " Ysillith's eyes do not leave that of the tanned lass.
"I've guessed at one of your names. Seems but fair ye guess at one of mine."
"Ah, hello. I am Kittington von Meowselsworth..." says the Duchess, a bit warily, turning her back towards the parked Phantom. She sniffs at the air lightly, taking a few steps towards the woman, "And you... are Madame Ysillith, I presume, aren't you?" The feline overheard the name used and this woman's scent is definitely not from around here.
"And I am Rashida Massri," the delicate woman says, bowing slightly. "Again, welcome. I am glad the Baron has not sent you to kill us."
Drake smirks and winks at Cassie, "Yes he is a fine person alright." Yet he does not go further about Hansel Angora as he sees the marks upon Cassie and moves closer, his hands going to her face to check out the wounds. Only then does he stop, one hand upon her hair, the other under her chin, his forefinger holding up her chin. He backs up and bows his head, "I am sorry for my boldness but when I see a wound I ... react."
He hears Vorian and speaks to him, head still bowed as he awaits his fate from Cassie for what he considers a misstep, "Oh yes. Now I remember where I heard your name from. Mother loves to complain about politics but then mention about the sexi..." He looks at Vorian then smirks, obviously remembering something, "That is something I suppose you would not wish to know. Sorry for babbling there. We ... ahem should probably be upon our way now."
Cassie blushes slightly as Drake lifts her chin; "Bold." 'I probably shouldn't mention where I was stabbed or he'd have it off in the shop... my clothes of course.'
The dancer opens the door and walks out onto the street, offering her elbows if the gents wish Cassie keeps her black lace fan in one hand and her purse the other. "So off to Hansels' or the Dock-yards. Or I think at this time of day Haigh's friend might be at the Club....and I have an idea!" she says with a smile.
Drake hooks his arm with Cassie's and walks out at her side, "Probably the Club but ... what is your idea, Ms. DuSollier?"
Smiling as the pair of men flanked her, she walks down the paved street with a slight sway to her hips. "Well, if we go to the Club, I would not be allowed in. I doubt it's one of those type of clubs and I am hardly undressed for the occasion as it is."
She looks cheekily down the street; "How about if I was to wear some gentlemen's clothing. I would look pretty dashing with a thin moustache!" her voice drops into a low soft accent as she images the fun it is to pierce the pomposity.
Ysillith straightens up, staff held casually in one hand as she bows.
"Captain Ysillith Mearlleux." She straightens, "So, I see by your critter ye be a witch?" Ysillith's eyes do not leave Rashida's "Nice t'see some folks here do things similar to how we do things back home." Ysillith nods.
"You part of one of these ship's crew?" Ysillith's gaze sweeping up to take in the lines fo the airship hovering over their heads.
"I own the Phantom... I do not belong to anyone, I am a cat independant. But I do not know how it is that the Phantom has arrived here? I had thought... well, that something dire had happened to it... So long as we are giving emphasized titles, I am Duchess Kittington von Meowselsworth II." says the feline duchess, peering up to the ship.
As some time passes, a second helmet cat appears, one Mittens von Meowselsworth, a tuxedo cat wearing a pair of goggles and a red scarf peers over the edge of the ship with a wide-eyed expression.
Ysillith takes a talking cat in stride it would seem. Doing no more than acknowledging said feline's presence.
"I am no witch, and this is my dear friend, not my familiar, Captain Mearlleux. I leave it to my crew to fly the ship, of course. Unfortunately the Ament is off for repairs and we think Phantom might be a ghost ship of sorts, though her daughter there appears very real." Rashida looks rather astonished at the appearance of the second helmet cat.
"As for you, you were the captain of the vessel which sank? What was that horrid ship following you? Why were they trying to kill you? And will they be back to finish the job?"
"My daughter?" says Kittington, looking up as Rashida says the words and she says, "Ah, Mittens, my dear kitten, come down here so that I may look at you! How did you get the Phantom into such an impeccable shape? I thought it had been destroyed by Von Ryuko..."
Mittens hops down from the ship, peering at her mother and then declares, "'cause I'm a genius, that's why. I knew that it could be done! So many would call such efforts mad, but they've borne fruit! Oh yes! Hello, mum!" The smaller kitten runs up to give her mother a proper nuzzle, a show of helmetcat affection. "And this is Rashida Massri, right? I know, I know all of your friends, up until the moment where you died... I am sure I will have to explain, but I have no idea who this weird Captain lady is. What's up with her?"
"You're confusing me a bit, Mittens... I am clearly alive... And I do not know what is up with her. She seems to believe cats are only fit to be familiars. It is clear she is unfamiliar with the noble helmetcat," decides the Duchess.
Rashida bends and offers her hand to Mittens. "I am indeed Rashida Massri and it is a pleasure to meet you, Mittens. Your mother loves this ship. I am glad it is whole again... or still? Captain Mearlleux arrived a very short time ago from another planet, or something. She appeared from out of a storm in the middle of the Bodensee and had her ship sunk beneath her by another which seemed to be drawn back into the storm before it disappeared."
She straightens and shakes her head with a frown, then extends her hand to the imposing newcomer. "Where are my manners? Captain Mearlleux, it is a pleasure to meet you. My friends and I noted your arrival earlier. Do you have anywhere to go here? We would be happy to provide you shelter and sustenance until you have a chance to get your feet on the ground."
Ysilleth smiles and does offer a hand for shaking as well.
"No need to worry about standing on ceremony for my benefit." She looks up at the air-ship which is the current focus of every one's attention.
"So...you own, but do not operate, this vessel..." Ysillith remarks, casually and offhand. She looks back at Rashida.
"I must admit you seem to have had a full view of the Bonny's demise. Miss...Rashida, is it? Grand and well met." Ysillith now turns her gaze upon the pair of mechaninka-cats.
"As fer the pleasure of meeting these two fine creatures? I will admit that whence I come such things might be viewed differently, but t'has been brought to my attention that my understanding of such is... rather vague, so I'll be doing a lot more learning before further talking on things about which I'm having no knowledge of." And she bows fully and formally to the Meowselsworth's.
As she straightens, Ysillith again eyes the airship, her eye taking the craft's lines and finer details.
"This vessel?" Rashida waves towards the Phantom. "No, the Duchess here owns it. That silly gold one is mine, or my family's anyway. Unfortunately, it's in a bad way and in need of major repairs, so we are staying here at the Grand Hotel." She scrutinizes Ysillith. "Pardon me if I'm rude, but didn't you look... different when you arrived?"
Ysillith grins,
"Aye...just a slight glamor. Seems a very cute fellow were insisting I go an' do something...And me nature be anything if it in't contrary, so I give him the slip. The, when I noticed this," And Ysillith again waves a hand airily at the air-ship, "Fine creation, I knew I had t'get a better gander at it." Though Ysillith's eyes do roam the rest of the air-o-dome looking at the other airships scattered about.
"Ah, I see. I thought perhaps you changed form when you channeled a god, like some in my family do," Rashida says nonchalantly, "So, about that hotel room... are you interested in the offer? I need to go acquire some rooms - we also just arrived in town - and need to know if you want one."
Ysillith again bows, "You have me at the disadvantage, m'dear. I am afraid I am but a humble...Captain. Here ye see afore you with time and tide turned against them." Ysillith straightens,
"Though, should you be seeking some one of a fair amount of nautical expertise...?" She finishes.
"Surely you can't be serious," Vorian says to Cassie with a look of amusement, her plan sounding outright ridiculous. Though then again... "On the other hand, no noble in his right mind would point out the presence of a man who happens to be particularly effeminate. I've met enough nobles to know that plenty favor their makeup and powdered wigs... raising it as a point would be an utmost breach of etiquette." He then looks upon Cassie with a skeptical gaze. "Though frankly, I cannot fathom the idea of you wearing men's clothing. I am almost hoping that you were only jesting."
"Of course I am joking, but it would be interesting to enter one of these bastions of patriarchy. And I see no other way than as a man?" Cassie says with a tinkling laugh. "Well shall we head to the Lake, Club or to meet Hansel?"
As she moves down the street, she cannot help picturing herself as a man. Which causes her no end of amusement.