"Dear Hans is a tad out of our reach, I'm afraid. In the literal sense I mean. It would be more than a little difficult to navigate the Alps without an airship. Perhaps we can pay him a visit once we settle our business here. For the time being, let's try our luck at the Gentlemen's Club. With any luck, the women there hang off the men's arms rather than undress for them."
"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 waits for but a moment longer,
"Perhaps, whut I'm trying to say, is that I am in dispose towards new employment opportunities...?" And again she offers a small bow/curtsey to show her respects to the lady...and the Mechanika-cats...
"Sooo...who be this...Von Rooloo...? Ye were mentioning afore? Some one of whom ye've a mite cause fer concern about, then?" She arches an eyebrow, her stance shifting back to her casual, hands on staff and booted feet planted.
"If'n ye don't currently have a crew, then perhaps m'self can be a choice in yer figuring?" Ysillith prompts.
"We have somewhat of a crew, though Von Ryuko ruthlessly killed many of them -- for no reason, I might add. Can you captain an airship or only the watery types of vessels?" Rashida waves a hand around fluffily to indicate her lack of knowledge of the distinction between running the two.
Soft morning light reflects off the lake behind then, covering them in bright pale light as she replies in her romantic French accent; "Good. We wouldn't want me to have to strip off again, would we?"
They walk through the boulevards, as the carriages slowly rumble past and the tall building rise on each side. The classical architecture beautiful mixture of practical and the slightly quaint. As the roads curl around the lake embracing it, off-shoots rise up into the hillside. Where large buildings stand alone in their solemn grandeur.
Ysillith smiles,
"I'll be learning everything there be t'know about your craft. Ye can be sure of that, luv." Ysillith tries to re-assure Rashida.
"Both types have Port an' Starboard, so fer m'self t'will be gettin' the hang of all the 'Ups' and 'downs', so to speak." She quips.
"Give me a week or so with her Mechaniks an' I'll be up t'speed on th' basics. After that? Well, we'll just have t'see." Ysillith replies.
"So...whut else d'ye want t'know, as in things by way of qualifications?" Ysillith glances down at just herself. "Of course, I be a complete stranger, here abouts, so I have not much of a reputation as yet." And she does sigh a little.
Drake had been listening all the while that the two spoke, just enjoying the feel of a pretty ladyon his arm,He did not seem sure of what exactly they were doing but did not seem to mind nonetheless.
"Oh I don't know. I am sure that we could make our pretty lady up to be quite the handsome, feminine gentleman but I would be just as happy to have you resplendant upon my arm. Drake smiles diffidently.
She leans against both the gentlemen in turn; the soft curves of body mould against each in turn. Then she stands between to two; "You are so kind."
Before them stretches a large building, white stone building with huge minarets, towers and grand Gothic architecture. The front of the building is very quiet, although a single carriage pulls up and an elderly Gentleman with magnificent side-burns exits and enters nodding to the maître-d as he goes into the lobby.
The trio move up to the man, an officious individual, with a neat moustache and shiny brass lapels. In his thick Germanic accent he questions; "Vas du ze want? Der Lady is nicht allowed inside. Only Herr's here." He has slow dead eyes.
Out of the corner of her eye she can see a route to the Baths She bites her lip and lets the men answer the question.
A quite dirty young man is dragged rather roughly into the lobby from inside by a large official looking man in a uniform "Look kid I told you before you aren't welcome here, I catch you again and I'm going to let you have it."
The young grimy man squirms and struggles as he's dragged "Lemme go ya jerk, you ain't gots no right ta touch me!" He manages to squirm away from the big man, and looks rather indignant "I can walk on my own." He bats away the large man's hand, and shoves him not moving the large sturdy man, but almost knocking himself over in the process."I know my way out ya scragdog"
He notices the trio and looks over at them waving his arm as if he could push them away from a distance "Wott're lookin at? real hoity-toity ain'tcha? Never seen a Joe tossed out of a joint before?" The large man threatens to start dragging him again and the dirt encrusted man shrugs him of "Alright get offa me Jack I'm leaving already."
He move past the trio and towards the doors of the building, how he ever got in there to begin with is anyone's guess. The large official looking man bows slightly and apologizes to everyone in the lobby "I'm very sorry for the disturbance folks. Please carry on."
Keeping her bag clutched tight to her chest as the youth, possibly even a criminal is thrown out. She quirks an eyebrow as he addresses the group, before he is thrown out.
Cassie bats her eyelashes to the uniformed Porter; "Surely if you would let him in, I could come in?"
"Nein, der Men only!" he shakes his head.
'I wonder how he got in, surely if he could get in he must have found a back way.' Cassie think looking to the dirty youth.
Drake watches the vagrant move off with a twinge of guilt in his eyes, looking as if he could actually somehow, by who knows what grace, feels a sympathy for the young man. He turns his attention back to the man in front of them and raises a brow.
"But sir! Did you not know this is the famous dancer, Madommosiel DuSollier de Franco? She was invited to show her skills upon the dance floor with ... He leans in and almost whispers then backs off giving the man a disgusted look, "Well ... you should know of whom I speak of. I mean, as doorman you must. Then again, you may not be the head doorsman so maybe we will write a letter to ... he who you do not know ... so that he can be informed about the insensitive nature you have portrayed to such a treasured visit."
The doormans eyes widen at the words. "Herr...." His eyebrows crease up as if the act of think is too much for his officious nature. "Herr Haigh's nephew, we do not let any women in here. It would defile the sanctity of this place. It is a refuge from women-folk." He looks Cassie up and down luridly; "Especially not 'dancers', she would give der old boys a heart-arrhythmia."
Standing up straight and giving the door-man a look of scorn, she turns to Drake and thanks him for attempt. "We will get a dance." she says promisingly.
Cassie kisses Vorian upon the cheek in the French manner of greeting and whispers in his ear; "I'll see if I can find out how that lad got in there, and use that entrance. If you and the doctor can find the contact, I'll meet you in the steam-rooms. They won't find me in there."
Moving quickly outside the shop, looking for the grubby youth. Her sharp eyes soon find him amongst a small group. "Sir, I am sorry for your troubles in there. I was wondering how you entered? I am willing to recompense financially if I could get in there too?" She quickly says.
Vorian nods to Cassie subtly before putting on his act.
"Tch! Very well then!" Vorian tosses his head back in a gesture of exaggerated displeasure, making sure to inflate his annoyance as much as humanly possible. With a flick of his wrist, he "dismisses" Cassie with a shooing gesture, before looking to Drake. "No women? What matter of club has no women!?" Shaking his head as though to answer this one, he looks to the official. "I hope you're satisfied! May we go in now?"
Mittens pipes up, "If you would like to try to pilot the Phantom, be my guest! There used to be a whole big crew, and then they all died, 'cause I guess Von Ryuko is a psycho? I only know that because I can channel my dead mother's memories."
"I'm not dead..." reiterates the Duchess.
"Right. Okay. More on that later. But I mean, I can pilot the Phantom, but it takes so much work and it hurts my head, I'd really rather someone else do it. It can float in the air or in the water. Or... well, I assume it can float in the water, because I've flown it into the water," continues Mittens, excitedly.
"You did what?!" protests the Duchess, seeming rather astonished.
"Anyways... I guess it's mum's ship and all, but I'm cool with giving you the tour. You seem all kinds of trustworthy. And if not, hey, I'm sure I can take advantage of the situation in one way or another! How about it?" says the talkative tuxedo cat.
"We could also use somebody with other skills, like, say, fighting and killing and... you can do magic? That could be handy. So, are you interested? There could be trouble. And there could be saving the world." Rashida says quickly.
Ralph eyes Cassie as she speaks to him from where he stood leaning against the side of a building, the rest of the group disperses as she approaches. "Got some dough to burn do ya? What's a dame like you want with a place like that? It ain't exactly a place a guy usually takes the missus if you know what I mean." He pushes up off the wall "Well lady yer recompense better be pretty hefty, that jack in there catches me again an' imma be eatin out of a straw. Not that I gots that much ta eat anyway."
He seems to be considering the woman as he looks her up and down "I might be able to help ya toots, you look a little too pristine to be looking for my way in though. Ain'tcha worried yer gonna break a nail, or mess up yer pretty dress?" He shrugs his shoulders Ahh well that ain't my concern, how much ya willin ta give me?"
Mittens pipes up, "If you would like to try to pilot the Phantom, be my guest! There used to be a whole big crew, and then they all died, 'cause I guess Von Ryuko is a psycho? I only know that because I can channel my dead mother's memories."
"I'm not dead..." reiterates the Duchess.
"Right. Okay. More on that later. But I mean, I can pilot the Phantom, but it takes so much work and it hurts my head, I'd really rather someone else do it. It can float in the air or in the water. Or... well, I assume it can float in the water, because I've flown it into the water," continues Mittens, excitedly.
"You did what?!" protests the Duchess, seeming rather astonished.
"Anyways... I guess it's mum's ship and all, but I'm cool with giving you the tour. You seem all kinds of trustworthy. And if not, hey, I'm sure I can take advantage of the situation in one way or another! How about it?" says the talkative tuxedo cat.
"We could also use somebody with other skills, like, say, fighting and killing and... you can do magic? That could be handy. So, are you interested? There could be trouble. And there could be saving the world." Rashida says quickly.
Ysillith listens to both the excited Mechnika cat and thence the lady. At the mention of 'fighting' Ysillith simply twirls the long, brass staff a few times. Managing in just a few flicks of the wrist to have the item almost a blur before she snaps it to a stop against her shoulder.
"Ah....now fighting?" She looks at Rashida and Meowselsworth. "If you saw even that paltry scrap upon th' lake, then you've been sorely disappointed. That weren't a fight, that were a fleeing and no two ways about it. I could regale ye with tales of me daring-do, but ye in't interested in how much I can flap me pretty gums. I can tell ye'd rather know how well I can move me pretty gams." And Ysillith's eyes narrow in thought before she smiles again,
"Well then! It sounds like ye have in mind th' taking of m'self in't yer employ." Ysillith steps back and bows formally, brass staff swinging out to the side with an added flourish.
"I accept and Captain Ysillith Mearlleux be yer humble servant and protector." She straightens, "So as a captain, I shall receive the normal division of shares...yes?" She finishes by asking a question, an eyebrow arched.
Quirking her eyebrow at Ralph glance, she is used to the gaze. "I am certainly not the missus." she retorts cheekily.
"Now about payment.... How about 2 Marks?" her offer is outrageously generous, or out-of-touch with the common man.
'I can see how much that money will mean to him as it once did...' she cuts that line of thought off before it begins. 'He won't remember some silly fluff-headed noble woman, he'll just see a mark with Marks.'
Lilting her head to one side; "I can get dirty when needs be." she flirts. "But don't say we enter through the latrines?" 'I hate when I have to do that.' she thinks.
"As we come from different worlds, Captain, I am interested in what your normal division of shares is," Rashida says smoothly, "Though I do think our working together could be beneficial for both of us, as we could provide an 'official' identity as well as immediate shelter."
Ysillith smiles and offers a firm hand,
"Then we have an accord!" (^_^)
"So then, this be the craft ye travel about on...?" Ysillith looks towards the two Mechanika-cats.
"Not wanting t'cast aspersions, but her armaments seems sorely lacking..." Ysillith waves an arm at the vessel above them.
"I'm noting a dearth of gun ports along her sides...Nor signs of stern-chasers on her aft quarter...?" She arches an eyebrow quizzically. "Am I missing something in her design? Perhaps I'm not picking up enough detail in her lines...?" Ysillith ponders. She glances at Rashida,
"Oh, we can be working out our terminology as we get t'know one another better luv, I'm sure..." She purrs, the wolfish grin returning.
Rashida daintily shakes the hand of the tall woman, giving her a bright smile. "I'm sure we can," she replies, all sweetness and innocence.
"But right now, I have an errand, and I believe the Duchess does as well. Now that your ship is here, Kittington, do you want to stay aboard it rather than the hotel? Is there room enough for us all? I don't wish to crowd you if you're unprepared. The hotel will have plenty of room for us if need be." She ponders a moment. "We'll need to find Cassie. I am confident she can get us some very legitimate papers for our Captain."
"It is an opera ship, there should be plenty of space for everyone on it. There is enough room for an orchestra to stay, after all..." says Kittington. "And yes, the Phantom is not a warship and I am a pacifist, so she doesn't have much in the way of weaponry..."
Ralph doesn't look like he's ever even seen one Mark let alone owned two, yet he makes it seem as if he's doing her a favour accepting such a low amount. "Well alright, I guess I can swing for that, if you're a little short right now. Gotta help a dame in need right?"
He grins at the woman's flirty answer "Oh yeah? I can imagine." With a laugh he waves his hand to dismiss her comment about the latrines "I maybe ain't too pretty, but even I ain't stooped so low as to crawl through the johns." Ralph actually might even be handsome if you could get past the grime. "So long as ya ain't scared'a height 'r small dark (and probably dirty) spaces, ya should be fine. C'mon" He motions for her to follow him, but seems to be moving away from the building.
Ysillith arches an eyebrow towards the mechnika-cat(s)...
"Aye, well with an attitude like that an' this baron Von person lookin' t'settle yer hides, I can see why ye'd be needin' a person who's wise and knowledgeable in the sometimes subtle ways of violence." Ysillith says to Meowselsworth.
"Would there be any a vessel amongst yer lot whut's got more free-board an' larger spaces of gunwales than this one?" Ysillith asks, pointing a finger at the mechanika-cats mode of transport.
"Because I might have an idea fer salvage of something which will be...subtle..." Her voice trails off in thought.
"Alright." she replies softly. Following the grimy youth she subtly waves her lace fan before her face; checking in the reflection of the vanes to see if anyone was following her. 'That doorman from the building was always there...?' she thinks.
Her mind flicks back to the market in Cairo when that guide lured her into an alley where his friends were waiting; she smiles remembering how none of them left the alley. She places the fan into the clutch bag; continuing after him. "You never told me your moniker, young sir." she asks even if her own age is within a decade of the man.
The cool silver weapon against her warm legs gives her the weight of a false confidence, she quirks an eyebrow but assumes he knows where he is going.
"Thank you, sir." Drake snarls sarcastically as he steps past the guard with a controlled manner of an offended dignitary then strides across the room, neatly obtaining a glass of champaign for Vorian and then himself after he hands the other gentleman a drink. With a simple move he puts himself into a clear spot to watch the goings on and turns his head slightly towards Vorian.
"Now my dear new friend. How shall we go about this? You are the maestro, or so my mother tells me." There is a hint in there that he may know more than he is letting on about the other man but he only waits sippping his champaign, delighting in its flavour.
Vorian very nearly spits out his champagne when Drake mentions his mother, just barely managing to recover and swallow it. "Your... your mother, you say?" he manages, before lightly coughing lightly into his sleeve. What is he playing at? I mean certainly, I've been with my fair share of women, but I can't be any more than twice his age! "Surely you don't mean..." To say that he was glad that Cassie was not around to hear this would be an understatement.
"Well, ah, ahem. You said you know the gentleman we are looking for, yes? Do you see him in here?"
Drake waits out the coughing and reaction of his new partner and seems mildly bored with the general atmosphere of the club. He rolls the champagne in the glass, watching the fluid move about before taking another tender sip.
He glances at Vorian, "Yes. I do say ..." But he does not answer the rest. Instead he points towards a clean cut gentleman with a sash, "There he is. So, Mr. Ritter, what next?"
He claims to know who Hans is, and it would seem I've met his mother at some point or the other... the noble ponders, as he looks over at Hartley. Von Ryuko and Darkov be damned, it's been some time since a man's made me this uneasy.
"Please introduce me, if you would," Vorian starts, glad to change the topic, "Assuming the two of you are well enough acquainted, of course. He more than likely knows what happened to the executive... that would give him every reason to be uneasy."
Ralph looked over his shoulder and quirked his eyebrow at the much better dressed woman. "Moniker? Wuzzat like some hoity-toity way of sayin name? Yer right, I din't, ya never asked fer it, ya never gave me yers neither. Not in a habit of offerin information that ain't even been asked for."
He leads cassie into an alley and looks around apparently checking to see if anyone's looking. "Don't figure yer types really care much about some street rat, seems ta me once I gets ya inside yull go abouts yer business and ferget I wuz even here. Just so long as ya remember the agreement." He looks back at her "Ya might have some trouble in dat dress. I don't mean ta say you gots ta take it off, just givin ya fair warnin." With that he starts climbing up a drain pipe of some sort.
Ysillith watches the pair of mechankia-cats renew their acquaintances, though her gaze does sweep out across the aerodrome to observe the goings on around their small group.
She flicks her auburn hair down across one eye; "Nice evasion! I used moniker in case you wwished to give ma a Nom de guerre, or some other fake name." she quirks an eye brow. "Since you have still not told me it I will call you.....squirrel! Since you are clever and climb so well."
She watches him half-way up the pipe and then rocking back on her high heels to gain momentum she leaps. The balls of her feet either side of the pipe, and one hand on the back which is encrusted with unspeakable filth encountered over the years. Cassie the procedes to virtually hop softly up the pipe, going with practised quickness for the unusual technique.
The pipe does slightly shake upon each push as her knees are pushed against her chest before stretching out once more. As the pair get to the roof and Ralph looks down he can see that she is exposing slightly more thigh than is decent. But upon her right one appears to be the barrel of a pistol! Her fluid movements are captivating, the motion quite enticing especially for a young man.
Getting to the top of the roof, the French-woman's clothes appear unscuffed or dirty; in fact she is still wearing her heels. Negligently she brushes he hair back behind her ear, hoping to have impressed to accomplished young man.
Ralph shrugs his shoulders while still climbing the pipe "Ya still ain't asked, call me squirrel if it makes ya happy. And since ya still ain't given me yers neither, I guess I'll call ya hoity-toity."
When he reaches the top Ralph looks over the edge to see if she's following. He's treated to a fair eyeful getting a look both down the low cut V neck dress and at a decent amount of thigh. "Well hoity-toity, I'll give ya one thing, ya gots some nice legs alright. Strong too from da way you climb. Somethin makes me think ya maybe weren't always hoity-toity. Hmmm maybe I oughta call ya Minx instead, I bet yer more like dem under da satin. Anyway, if ya expects ta keep yer fancy dress clean ya might be disappointed." He starts off across the roof and leaps to another making his way towards the gentleman's club. Once on the appropriate roof, he squirms his way into a crevice that really doesn't look wide enough to accomodate him, but must be because he disappears inside.
"I know the Ament has some mechanical thingies to protect itself, but I don't understand them," Rashida says brightly, "But it won't be fixed for a while, I imagine. Duchess, do you want to stay and catch up with your lovely daughter while I run errands, or shall we both go? And Captain, you're welcome to accompany us. I don't know that we'll be using the Phantom or the Ament or if we'll even be staying together. We just came from an assassination attempt and things are rather unsettled right now. You'll have to forgive us."
Ysillith nods, even offering a complementary bow.
"Aye, I can understand that." She replies and her eyes drift towards the direction she's come from.
"So, to which of ye am I t'be lookin' after? T'would seem a mechanika-cat is not th' sort of critter too need as much protection, feline graces and all that." Ysillith offers a wink to the Meowselsworths. (^_~)
"Whut say I keep yerself an' t'ohers you're off to meet safe, hey Dutches?" Ysillith asks Rashida in a rather forward manner. Even spinning so as to offer an arm to the other woman.
"Though, by the by? Where does one go about gettin'a propper hat in this town? I were most discomforted at havin' t'leave me nicest bonnets back amongst me things..." She adds conversationally.
"I believe the Phantom would be one of the roomier ships that we have available to us. I am not sure which has a higher capacity between The Ament or The Phantom... but they both seem rather large," says the Duchess. "I am not sure how I would feel if my ship were fitted with weaponry however... But I suppose desperate times..."
"I might stay back for awhile and catch up wtih my kitten... she seems to have had quite an adventure before arriving here..." finishes the Duchess, glancing back towards Mittens.
"Of course, sir." Drake walks off with a single trajectory but he interjects a couple of stops, one for an egg tidbit and another for a couple of cream puffs before he gets to their target. Once there he stands calmly, twirling the drink he is still sipping now and again, until the man is done speaking with another person.
"Khoth! What may I speculate as to the reason you are here? Your uncle has not come to see us in a while and was insistent that no more of your family came ever again."
Drake shrugs, "Uncle is such a nervous sort, you must agree, Mr. Hartley. I wanted to introduce you to a new 'friend' of mine. Mr. Vorian Ritter. He has dabbled in many things throughout the years. You may be keen upon some of his interests."
Following Drake closely, Vorian gives his best smile when he is introduced. He offers the man a plaintive handshake. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you. Lord Haigh spoke rather highly of you; I must admit he managed to pique my curiosity."
"Minx, yes I prefer Minx" she says with a twinkle in her eye. Then the man is off, she runs across the roof-tops after him. Balancing delicately upon the slate ridges, casting silhouette upon the walls but only for a second before she is gone. Clearly Ralph is right and this isn't her first run across the roof-top; although maybe the first without the cover of darkness.
She looks to the small hole that the thief has crawled through and shrugs...
"I did well naming you a squirrel!" she jokes approaching the hole and putting her hands upon the rough crumbling masonry edges. With a quick measure, she sees that it'll be a squeeze but she can get through.
'I have been told I am quite bendy, but I am no contorté.' she thinks.
Looking down at the soft satin of the dress; not wanting to ruin another of Rashida's dresses. Her friend might be patient but not a saint, 4 ruined dresses in a week would be too much, even if she did have the Marks now to repay her.
Quickly she makes her decision, the dark material slips to the floor and she bundles it softly in her hand. Hooking her bag with her feet (usually that'd go through first but with valuables in there; no way). Bending before the knee height gap in the masonry, she surveys it. A few stones removed leading through a void and into the darkness beyond.
"Ahh....why did I have this stupid plan." she mocks herself. Placing an arm into the hole, she starts to wriggle inside. Barely able to breathe, the darkness ahead serves as a beacon for the small youth's passage. The rough masonry scraps against her supple skin and she is sure the dress would have caught; the flimsy material been torn to shreds.
Her muscles strain as she pulls herself through, feminine hips struggling against the cold stone. Dust disturbed by the movement cover her body in a fine film. 'Some lubricant would help!' she thinks as she continues the inexorable journey through.
"Squirrel turn away." she says as her head slowly emerges from the gap. Nearly out, once she pulls her torso through it enables her better leverage and soon her hips slide out.
She rolls out to the joists in a crouch, the pale light from a single skylight dances across her body highlighting the pale curves and casting enticing shadows. She softly stands and slips on the fine dark dress.
Moving up beside Ralph she says softly in her thick accent; "So now we have squeezed inside, I will await my friends in the steam room. Where is it?"
Rashida surveys Ysillith rather blankly for a moment. "The Duchess is staying here with her daughter...? Oh! Me? I'm not a duchess. I am a Massri. We do not use titles within the clan. Being a Massri is sufficient."
She falls in beside the stranded Captain but is oblivious to the proffered arm. "There are excellent milliners here, of course. But... can you wear a hat? I thought you had, er... horns?" She eyes the top of Ysillith's head curiously.
Rashida's comments provoke a rich, warm laugh from Ysillith.
"Aye, me horns be a defining feature of me kin." She winks at Rashida, "I'm a mite taken by th' 'Tri-corn' style. T'is the best shape fer keepin' rain off me head an'a sun out'a me eyes." She smiles, as her boot heels click across the pavement in counter point to her large, brass staff.
"When we've a more private venue I might let me horns down, but fer now I'm happy enough t' walk about an' not causin' too many looks t'be sent my way." Ysillith's athletic stride quickly takes her back to the edge of the aerodrome and into the town again.
"So? Where be it we're t'meet the rest of yer companions?" Ysillith asks, letting Rashida take the lead.
"But if you're only glamoured, how will the hat appear? Can't you just make yourself an illusory hat?" Rashida asks curiously, like one who is familiar with theory of magic but not its practice. As they near the road, she flags down another pedicab.
"You know, we never set a meeting place or time, assuming we'd return to the Ament. But now that we are staying on Phantom, well, I had best give notice."[/i] She looks around and claps her hands sharply just as a pedicab pulls up. A tiny clank no larger than a pocket watch zooms up with a hummingbird whir, suspended from a tiny propeller. [b]"Find Lord Ritter and Lady DuSollier and let them know to meet us here at the Phantom when they are finished with their expedition. Stay with them and guide them here if need be."
The little mech dips once in acknowledgement and zips away, glinting in the sun and quickly invisible. Rashida settles gracefully into the pedicab and pats the seat next to her. "Driver! The University, please."
Ralph emerges from the small hole, with a seeming practiced ease. He carefully peeks past a loose fixture making sure no one was around, then pushes it aside and climbs out. Once free from the confines of his somewhat dirty secret entrance he turns to make sure the lady is still with him.
He finds Cassie telling him to look away as she pokes her head out from the narrow passage, now distinctly less clothed than before. He chuckles as Cassie wriggles free "Yer a fun dame Minx, I oughta take ya along wit me more oftin. Da joes dat usually try ta follow me ain't real friendly, ain't much fun ta look at neither." He does turn around, but isn't overly quick about it she has her dress almost all the way back on. "I wonder if der're any other tight spaces I can take ya trough. Steam room's downstairs but we gotta be careful o any burly Joes lookin ta catch us."
Ralph starts leading Cassie towards the stairs, but as he turns a corner he quickly jumps back 'Speaking of burly Joes...' He tries to grab Cassie and get her into a nearby alcove pressing in against her to keep them as hidden in there as possible. A hand moves to cover her mouth in case she's going to squeal and give away their location. "shh" The quick warning of silence probably does little to explain.
As Ralph watches her in the dimly lit room she smiles; "Really that's not very gentlemanly, we'll have to teach you some manners Squirrel." she teases flicking a lock of hair across her face.
She quirks an eyebrow as the grubby 'squirrel' presses her against the wall. Her back against the hard surface, a cold wall behind her and the youth's warm body molding to hers. Then she hears the soft thud of footsteps along the plush carpets, her body tenses and takes a deep breath. 'This is life, the excitement of going and breaking into somewhere. The illicit thrill, whilst not harming anyone.' Adreniline courses through her veins and her heart thumps against her chest. She shifts her leg slightly ensuring it can kick out past Ralph to any-one who inspects the alcove. Through her flowing skirt she can feel the rough material of his trousers against her thigh.
Suddenly she looks at the boy and realises he isn't so young, the slightness of his frame is deceptive.
Thud, thud, thud
"But if you're only glamoured, how will the hat appear? Can't you just make yourself an illusory hat?" Rashida asks curiously, like one who is familiar with theory of magic but not its practice. As they near the road, she flags down another pedicab.
"You know, we never set a meeting place or time, assuming we'd return to the Ament. But now that we are staying on Phantom, well, I had best give notice." She looks around and claps her hands sharply just as a pedicab pulls up. A tiny clank no larger than a pocket watch zooms up with a hummingbird whir, suspended from a tiny propeller. "Find Lord Ritter and Lady DuSollier and let them know to meet us here at the Phantom when they are finished with their expedition. Stay with them and guide them here if need be."
The little mech dips once in acknowledgement and zips away, glinting in the sun and quickly invisible. Rashida settles gracefully into the pedicab and pats the seat next to her. "Driver! The University, please."
Ysillith just smiles,
"Aye, the glamour be handy, but it doesn't beat a real hat upon one's head." Ysillith replies. She watches with interest as the tiny mechanika pops out of no where, though the actions cause little more than a slight raising of an eyebrow. Dutifully she slides into the conveyance besides Rashida. As the cab moves into traffic, Ysillith smirks.
"Now there's the kind of establishment I've not been into....." She pauses as if in thought.
"Though that big place with all th' book...." Her conversation drifts off. "I think it were called a 'Library'. Most of the gals in the group couldn't see th' point, but our...client, shall we say, at th' time were most insistent we tear the place apart t'try and find some trinket or other..." Ysillith smiles as the memory of those events play out within the vistas of her mind.
Ralph stays pressed in against Cassie waiting until the coast is clear. He feels her body moving against his, and her thigh rubbing against him he's not really sure if she's doing it purposefully to tease him, or has another reason. 'yeah definitely a minx' He watches from the corner of his eye as the large man continues on leaving them alone once again, and carefully disengages from Cassie.
He takes one more quick check to make sure they're safe for now then smirks at her, and answers her teasing comment "I guess da'd be why I gots ta break inta da gentleman's club. 'sides it ain't real lady like ta be takin off yer clothes in front 'o strangers neither, so I figger dat makes us even." The fact that her dress would have been shredded to pieces by the narrow passage if she had left it on is apparently irrelevant. He looks back at the finely dressed woman noticing that he'd clearly dirtied her dess. "Sorry Minx I gots ya all dirty." He reaches out his hand to try to brush the dirt off her dress where her leg had rubbed against him, and, unless she stops him, leaves a new streak of dirt "Ehh... yeah dat's much better."
Deciding he'd better continue on before someone found them he motions for her to follow and heads down the stairs.
"Lord Ritter? You say that Haigh gives a hey? Sorry, it's the type of thing that comes from me each time around this one here. I get the funny feeling that this is going to be much more than any other guests can appreciate. Please, be my guest."
He turns and goes towards a door then opens it and walks into an opulent room, resplendent with books and chairs all ready for meetings or quiet discussions. He points to a waiter and requests wine all around then dismisses him once the drinks are left on the table in front of them and to close the door. He sits calmly putting his hands around one knee.
"So what is this about?"
Drake has followed him and sat in a chair, leaving one between them for Vorian.
The pressure eases up as Ralph moves away, Cassie can breathe again. She lets out a soft and long sigh; she can still feel him against her and she's not surprised to see that he has dirtied the dress. And satin cannot be washed easily.
Wrinkling her nose, in a cute snuffle, she looks to the man. "Well Squirrel, you certainly don't smell like a Gentleman. That is unless he has been out in the stable." Cassie winks; "We need to get you into a bath."
"And certainly I am a Lady!" she flicks her hair and lets him 'clean' her dress, with a soft shiver at his touch.
Cassie watches him take the lead down the stairs, glad that he knows where he's going. Quickly she gets out a note to let the others know where she is.
Ralph chuckled as Cassie implied he maybe didn't smell quite like a bouquet of flowers though it was interesting she didn't seem to mind until he moved away from her. As he crept down the stairs he continued the discussion with her enjoying the playful banter with the woman despite the chance that they might be caught.
"Oh there's much worse smellin than me darlin, imagine da joes dat do come in trough da johns." He smirked to himself as he peeked around the corner at the bottom of the stairs "Well sweethart I do 'preciate da offer fer a bath, but lemme think onnit. yer a nice dame an all but 's a little forward. 'sides I always feel real exposed after a bath." The last bit didn't seem like some kind of innuendo or teasing, maybe there was a better reason for the dirt than simply not cleaning it off.
Seeing the coast is clear he looks back at Cassie again "I think the coast is clear, we should be able to get to the baths at the end of the hall and from there to the steam room. Ya really plan ta go in dere wit dat dress?" He wasn't real clear on hoity-toity clothes, but he was pretty sure getting them wet was bad.