Enjoying seeing the expression upon Squirrels face, the reaction the her teasing was very gratifying. The man obviously knew how the game was played and it was good to feel appreciated.
"Well lets get back to the air-ship and put you to bed, alone that is." she winks. "I wonder where Ysillith went?"
His Minx now once again fully covered by her dress, and the excitement from the impending danger waning Ralph's heart beat starts to slow as his body relaxes. He smiles and shakes his "I tink I oughtta git Chuck ta gimme a once o'er b'fore dat." His smile turns to a playful smirk "Ya shure I oughtta go alone Minx? y'only paid fer one night ya know."
At the question of Ysillith's whereabouts he furrows his brow "Cap'n? I ain't seen hide ner hair o' 'er since we gots hit by dem colours. Prolly runnnn off wwwit dat crrrrazy doc." The young man's sluggishness is more and more apparent as his speech slows down and his words start dragging out, his eyes half closing. "Mmmmaybe I juzzz' sit ferrr a bit... wait ferrr da udders." He moves to sit on the ground practically falling to a sitting position.
She looks down upon the youth, melancholy slowly spreads through her system. 'Look what I've brought to him: pain, exhaustion, sorrow and danger. Is this always the case? Now Ysillith has vanished, maybe that's for the best... this way she would fall under Cassandra's curse.'
The rolling cool breeze slides across the lake biting down to her bones. Cassie looks out to the lake but it's hidden amongst the mists, a heavy fog-bank that hangs around the island. What she can see is the crags that surround the facility making it even more treacherous to approach.
So alone, but for the gentle sound of the waves lapping at the rocks and a clunk as a boat hits the wooden pier. Cassie is overwhelmed with emotions and leans down to comfort the youth. Stroking his hair, she watches him carefully to make sure he hasn't slipped away from her.
A hand rubs Cassie's arm lightly, a slow breath in and out then slowly blue eyes open to peer at her. "Ya look so sad Minx, yer not wurried fer me 're ya?" His speech is slow, but clear and deliberate, well as clear as Ralph's speech ever is at least. "'m awright Minx, be right 's rain once Chuck fixes ma showder."
The young man closes his eyes again leaning against Cassie as she comforts him. "Don' wurry... I ain't goin nowhere, we still gots ta go fer anodder date sumtime." He hand searches for hers and gives a small squeeze, hopefully reassuring despite the lack of strength.
His hand so warm and solid finds hers, she rubs across the soft callouses in stark contrast to hers. The beginnings of the cold atmosphere freezes the tips of their fingers; "I hope it was my hand you were going to squeeze?" her voice holds a hint of amusement despite the melancholy that belongs with the weather.
With a quick thought to where Squirrel could have been aiming his hand, and the various noble 'gentlemen' she has known. "Well, rarely more on a first date." she adds. "You will come with us? I'm not sure how much trouble I'm in but there's a reassuring presence to having you here."
With his eyes still closed Ralph smiles a bit as Cassie takes his hand, the feeling of her smooth soft skin was really nice against his rough hand. "Well... I wuz hopin fer sumtin a lil squishier, but I guess dat'll do." Despite saying otherwise his tone implies that he was indeed after her hand, though in his opinion this was definitely a rare date, also he seems to remember a dance number during which Minx got a little grabby, and she wasn't after his hand.
At the question of whether he'll come along Ralph chuckles softly, there shouldn't really be any question if he'll come, that was his condition for helping her. Of course he wouldn't give that away so easily "Hmmm, I dunno darlin, whut's innit fer me?"
Vorian follows the obedient clockwork automaton through the halls of the theater, his guise as a disgruntled employee having apparently done the trick. Along the way the noble glances down various hallways, looking for even a trace of the chaos he had seen earlier, but finding none. Are the guests still in the theater? he wonders, recalling the warning given when Wowbagger first attacked, as well as the unforgiving containment procedures that followed those who disobeyed. He could already imagine the things that Eleanor would report to the League... assuming she had listened to him.
"Frau Stuptsmann's office," the automaton says, coming to an abrupt stop. The machine gestures to a simple wooden door, a far cry from the technology that defined the rest of the theater. Nodding to his escort, Vorian approaches the door and turns its handle, pushing it open.
"Gretel Stuptsmann?" he calls out, the tip of his cane first to enter the room. Once he is in the office he closes the door behind him. "There are some matters we need to discuss. About this... thing of yours." Somehow, "theater" did not describe what he saw well enough.
"Adventure, sights you could hardly imagine." Cassies words are born of her memories, some of her favourites, of parties and plays. Of tombs and terrors. Walking amongst the high-born and the slums with equal heart and kindness. These memories the socialite/explorer hesitantly shares, of her adventures.
Deep down she knows, that the lure of money or her body would not sate Squirrel and if it did she would think less of him for it. Thus she offers fun and friendship, a security that can be hard to find - for the French-woman realises she has not attained it herself.
"Trust, it's hard to come-by and rarely earnt or deserved. Fleeting as a butterfly in the storm." she says in her lilting accent. "I could offer you more, but you have to trust you heart and your instincts... and hope they don't let you down" which holds a catch that clearly says hers have and with dire consequences.
Her thumb gently strokes across the back of his hand, a light contact but a reassuring one.
You are very welcome, my friend. I bide. The voice in the noble cat's head subsides, though the feeling of presence remains.
Lean, hard hands grip the helmetcat firmly around the ribs, just behind her forelegs, and whisk her into the air.
"Hello, Duchess," Rashida whispers into Kittington's ear, "The things down here stopped attacking and seem to think I am some sort of maid. I presume that is your work?"
She holds the helmetcat to her shoulder and trots along below the stage, perfectly retracing her path there. "I do not know where the rest are, but we should leave quickly. Do you have any way of finding them? Do you know where the alien is?"
"The alien is sedated, packed in a box. We have some respite from his pursuit, but I suppose that there is little time before he is after us again. Permanent measures, even if I did not have my own moral compass holding me back, would be nearly impossible. Only nearly because I think that my dear Mittens could figure out a clean but dreadful solution..." says Kittington, sighing softly in the helmetvoice, even though the cat's breath remains just stable.
"As for the rest... we should be reuniting if they understand what is going on in the theatre and they accept their tasks. The security system does not target staff, so making us all into staff makes it so the security detail could focus on a single place: Wowbagger was the only intruder. Which makes me question where his apprentice is... an uncomfortable detail that should keep us on our toes." She finishes speaking, resting her paws on Rashida's shoulder and nuzzling against her.
Ralph smiles a bit and opens an eye to look towards Cassie "'s 'lot more serious answer den I 'spected." He assumed she'd take the opportunity to tease some more, as was their typical response. Maybe she's had people walk out on her before, and she's really is worried about it.
"Well y'ain't gonna git rid o' me dat easy Minx. We hadda deal, I help ya out and ya gots ta take me wit ya." He sighs softly "Da hart says not ta let ya go, so 'm willin ta deal wit yer trubbles if yer willin ta deal wit mine... le's jus' hope dey don' find me. I wouldn't want ya ta regret takin me 'long."
Cassie's talk of trust being hard to come by is no news to the little street urchin "Trust... now dat ain't sumtin I given out fer a long time." That may seem strange coming from someone so young, but it had been years since he'd told anyone so much as his first name. "Ain't used ta folks d'pendin on me neither, not fer more den ta swipe a chunk o' bread for em ta make sure dey ain't starve anyway." Speaking of people depending on him reminds Ralph of his newly appointed position on the ship; it may have simply been given to him to keep Ysillith and himself from squabbling, but he was first mate, and high chieftain none the less. If Ysillith really was gone would that make him captain? ...and high chieftain.
The helmetcat's affectionate nuzzling brings Rashida to a halt for a moment, then she relaxes slightly, the grip of her hands loosening somewhat as Kittington gains her balance. The fingers of one hand slip through the helmetcat's fur in a tentative caress.
"That's... that's good news, except about the apprentice, and the theater may catch him, too. At least we have a chance to get out of here, and there's no point in sneaking around anymore, is there?" The sentence is ended by a sob which shakes the woman's body beneath Kittington's paws. Rashida suddenly resumes her rapid walk, swallowing hard. "I'm going to call for the others, so watch your ears. Helmetcat mail is wonderful for some things, but simple sonic location can be very efficient, too."
She calls the party's names from time to time as she goes, omitting Cassie, Ysillith, and Ralph. "I think they are still in that lab. We need to get back there. I hope... hope nothing has happened to them, Duchess. It will be my fault if it has."
Cassie leans against him, glad that they were injured on the opposite sides. 'Wow, he's so different to me... but similar. His pains are the pains of the real world, not just some slights and pains of the heart. To have to steal to avoid starving...'
'Yeah, I've stolen to help starving people... but they were not me.' her thoughts are as slow as the lapping waves. "You are a kind man." her hip nestled against his good shoulder.
Ralph smiles and shakes his head "Nah, ain't nottin special I 'spect anybuddy wudda dun da same. Not like ya cin jus leave da lil twins an da ol' blind Joe wit nottin ta eat." Since Cassie has nestled her hip against him, he lays his head back against her.
The warmth of his Minx against him was quite comforting, he hadn't actually realised how cold it was getting out here, he shivers a bit probably should have kept better track of his jacket. "Startin ta git a bit chilly innit?"
"Yeah." she shivers slightly in her light backless dress, with stole. "Will they be alright, I can give them some money or a stipend if they need it." Cassie realises suddenly that by taking Squirrel away from his natural environment people may suffer, that would just not do.
"Sorry, lost ma jacket sumwhere 'r I'd give it ta ya." He sighs softly and shakes his head when Cassie asks about helping "Yer a sweet dame Minx, but ya can' help e'eryone, I woodn't e'en be able ta tell ya where ta start sendin yer dough."
"But you've got to try to help everyone. What if I was in their position..." the words hold a hint of melancholy, as they are lost amongst the fog.
She looks out; "I'll set up a small soup kitchen, it's not much... not enough, but...."
Her legs quiver; "We have to get out of here. With no way to contact the others and no way to know if they'll find us. There's a boat down there... Why don't we get in it and drive into the mists... hopefully we can find the shore." her voice starts to get lazy and thick. Whether the cold, exhaustion, blood-loss, or the colour attack - the lethargy has begun to creep in.
Cassie must be pretty well off if she's looking to throw all this money around, and start soup kitchens and the like. Ralph chuckles softly "Minx, ain't ya da one dat told me I gots ta live ma life? How ya gonna live yers if yer too busy wurryin 'bout e'eryone else's? I 'spect if it were you in dey're p'sition ya'd find a way ta get yerself outta it."
He sighs slowly noting that the French woman's voice was starting to take a similar slow and thick quality to his own "Soup ki'chen'd be be'er den dough, dey can' blow it on useless junk." He tries to get up and fails finding his body reluctant to obey him. With a second attempt he manages to sit up. "I ain't tink we oughta ditch da udders, Cleo knows we went dis way, she'll bring da rest. We maybe oughta move inside dough, I ain't wantcha freezin."
"They are in a lab? Where's this lab? I have lost my attention in all the other goings on in here..." says the Duchess, a bit tiredly. "Dear me, I could fall asleep here in your arms, Rashida, it has been such an active day."
She looks slightly contrite at the reprimand, being used to living her life upon the razors-edge; having experiences both good and horrid.
As the seated man says Cleo's name; Cassie pauses trying to contain her emotions. "Here, let me help you."
With her one good hand she helps Squirrel to his feet, holding him close to her shivering body. "Perhaps, I shouldn't have worn something so revealing."
Holding the dashing man close, the cold seems to ease - they stumble back inside. The flush to the Frenchwoman's cheeks must be embarrassment at stupidly walking outside?
Ralph accepts the hand offered to help him up "Tanks Minx... Feelin kinda lazy right now... 's hard ta git ma body movin." Holding Cassie close with his good arm he moves along with her back into the facility.
When the lovely French woman questions her choice of wardrobe, and once they're back inside out of the cold, he runs a hand over her uncoverd back. "But dat wouldn't be nearly 's much fun darlin." He heals his head against her slowly closing his eyes. "Maybe 'll take a lil snooze waitin fer da udders."
Rasida calls periodically, the dazed helmetcat warm in her arms. Finally there is an answer, and she is relieved to see Drake and Alyce slipping hand-in-hand through the basement to join them.
"Ah, you're well! The assassin is trapped for the moment, but we must get out of here. Ysillith, Squirrel, and Cassie are down a long tunnel under the lake. We need to get back there quickly! Where's Vorian Ritter?" She peers around to see if the injured nobleman is nearby.
Sat upstairs on the ground floor, Cassie waits. Ralph asleep on her lap, as she sleepily runs her hands through his silken hair. The warmth of their bodies pressed against each other whilst she sits upon the corridor floor. Her legs sprawled tiredly in front of her, the Frenchwoman ensures that he is not near the rent in her dress and the pale flesh beneath.
Several long minutes passed by after the nobleman closed the door to the office. Questions are asked. Answers are given. Shouting. Accusations. Threats. And just a little bit of the truth. All of it is handled with a surprising degree of professionalism. Right up until Gretel Stuptsmann tries to make it as though it all never happened. There is a struggle, but its end is almost as abrupt as its start. At the end of those long minutes, when the door opens once more, Vorian comes staggering out of the office, wearing an odd expression. Leaning heavily on his cane, he looks over his shoulder at the scene inside.
Frau Stuptsmann lies crumpled over her desk, her face planted on its hard wood surface. She was not dead Vorian knew, though he could not help but feel that she would deserve such a fate. She had tried to do... something to his mind. She had told him her secret only because she thought she could get away with it; all she had to do was wipe his mind. As far as he could tell, that same something had backfired on her. The details were, strangely enough, fuzzy.
What happened? Vorian wonders as he leaves the office, closing the door behind him. Fortunately, the clockwork automatons had vacated the area. He was certain that the force behind his deception would not work if they found out about what happened. Then again, I suppose they would already know anyway... he decides with a grimace, thinking back on what the theater's owner had said, Or at the very least, He knows.
All of those emotions... He must have had a powerful soul. He would be perfect for... for...
The incomplete thought seemed foreign to Vorian, who could only ponder on its meaning as he makes his way to the foyer. It is not a terribly long walk, and for whatever reason, the machines do not assault him. It was for the best - he was starting to feel exhausted. The night had all been a strange blur to him, just one odd event after another. If he did not know any better, he would wager that they had a better time at Von Ryuko's party.
It takes a few minutes, but Vorian manages to reach the theater, this time from the lower level. Looking about, he realizes that asides from a few automaton custodians, the theater was utterly empty. So they all got out somehow... he presumes, or rather hopes. The thought that they might have all been consumed was a great deal less appealing. Finding the opening that the others had gone down, he kneels down. If he was correct, it would lead right back to where he had met Drake... if the theater had not shifted around more, at least. Without a second thought, he hops on down.
"Lady Massri." Drake states with a startled clip to her name. He had not expected to see the woman so soon and was terribly surprised that she had found them. He was losing his touch, or this place was messing him up. The doctor was not sure what to think but seeing the woman made him breathe out with relief, "I had not expected to see you so soon. I am glad that you and ... oh Duchess are you alright? Are the others alright? Cassie? Squirrel? Ysillith?"
He thought of his date a bit more than the other two. Even if he was her date and that normally was expected to be a situation in which he would watch over her but that could never happen with this woman. She was a wild thing and he adored that in a woman. It made his blood sing.
"Vorian! He went off in the other direction. We were trying to find him but ... oh." Drake had turned at the sound of footsteps, "Mr. Ritter. You are right on time."
For the second time that night, Vorian very nearly lands on top of Drake. Fortunately for the both of them however, the noble's more intentional drop allows him to land right on his feet, just in time to greet the doctor. "Ah, Doctor Khoth. I should have guessed that I would find you here," he says with an amused tone, whilst patting the dust off his custom jacket. He looks to each of the others in turn, just as surprised as he is relieved. Vorian nods to Rashida in particular, having not seen her in quite some time. He opens his mouth as though to say something to her, but quickly decides against it, instead addressing the others as a whole. "I do believe the theater is no longer trying to kill us, but I am not entirely confident that it will stay that way for long." The spirit within this place will see to that. "What happened back there anyway? Why did it...?"
With a frown, he pauses and glances about, realizing that not everyone was there. It should have struck him sooner. "Where are the others?"
"Oh!" Rashida recoils in surprise, clasping Kittington to her chest protectively, as Ritter drops to the floor next to Drake.
"The Duchess made it think we are all staff, with her magical helmet and fabulous brain. Cassie, Squirrel, and Ysillith all went through a tunnel to the lab under the lake. Er, because there is one. I don't know where Richard or Clousuk got to, do you?"
"I am always at your service, Mr. Ritter. How are your legs?" The doctor asks curiously even though some of his own wounds are still bleeding and he has not dealt with any of them, "We have not seen the detective for a long while. I hope he is well."
"Better," Vorian replies appreciatively, giving his right foot a pointed glance. He was still unsure of what had gone on with his legs, but it was nothing he could look into under their circumstances. He then looks to the doctor's injuries, frowning. He refrains from commenting however, opting instead to look at the area around them.
"I do not know where the Inspector might have gotten to, but everybody else appears to have evacuated from the theater. Could Richard have been among them?"
"That, I cannot tell, but I have misplaced him," Rashida says sorrowfully, "The Duchess is very weak. We should find the others and get her to a safe place, quickly. I can take you to the tunnel. The Duchess may have put Richard and Inspector Clousuk's name into the theater's mind as employees, as she did ours, so they may be quite safe and able to depart in peace. We can only hope. I fear to tarry here longer, with Cassie's group at the lab."
Rashida patters through the understage and backstage area, still carrying Kittington, whom she checks worriedly from time to time, until she reaches the doors to the tunnel. "Look, everything is fixed. Are not Serv-Bots a wonder?"
Vorian follows along, pausing briefly to tilt his head. "Lab? What lab?" he asks incredulously, sounding more surprised than he probably should. He thought he had a better grasp of the situation than this. Damn that woman! It seems she didn't divulge all of her secrets. Unless... The noble continues on towards the doors wearing a frown.
Rashida tries to wrench open the dogged-down doors, which is difficult while she holds the helmetcat. Alyce darts forward to help, and they get the first door open.
"I do not know, Lord Ritter. There is a laboratory of some sort under the waters of the lake, through this glass tunnel. The building rises, so it may also be above water, but I returned here while the rest ascended, once the clockwork creatures were defeated."
"I see..." Vorian answers with a curt nod, still frowning over the strange revelation. Perhaps he had not asked the right questions. Nonetheless, the nobleman finds relief in the fact that progress was being made. They were all, after all, more or less reunited. Slightly embarrassed to have been too distracted to help with the door, he hurries on through the tunnel's entrance.
"Under the waters of the lake," Vorian repeats, looking at the glass walls of the tunnel thoughtfully, "So what Hartley told us is true, then. Though this is all much more convenient than I might have hoped for. I do not like it."
Duchess Kittington purrs softly in Rashida's arms, having fallen asleep.
In a flash of light, Mittens appears in front of Rashida, Drake and Vorian. "Holy smokes, that was super accurate! Good on me for being absolutely brilliant! Hey, people. So, did you know that you have assassins after you? 'cause you do."
Drake follows with a limp as they go along wondering about all of this business of a laboratory and a tunnel of glass walls. While they start walking through it he is surprised at the glass and seeing under the water without any water gear and being dry.
The doctor stops when Mittens shows and smirks, "Are they coming from behind us or ahead of us?"
"Um. When are we right now? It's gotta be asked. I rarely make a jump this accurate," wonders Mittens, "Still, I'm guessing back on the Phantom. They tried to kill me. Probably would have if I didn't ride the energy from my possible death out. My path is paved with potentially dead Helmetcats. Most of them me."
Vorian's eyes widen when Mittens appears, but the noble finds himself far too tired to be truly surprised. He had had enough surprises for that night, far too many of them unpleasant.
"Assassins? Which ones?" he asks dryly, hoping dearly that they did not have yet another faction after their heads.
"I don't know? You think I keep a logbook of every enemy that you people make? It's not the blue alien that you people are all on about..." says Mittens, glancing towards Vorian, and then licking her paw a couple of times idly, "I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman who attacked me even. I mean, it's hard to tell humans apart, chest lumps is the only reliable way, but... yeah, this was a particularly hard case."
"At least we know to watch out. Thank you dear lady." Drake bows his head, "I would bow more gentlemanly but it's difficult while trudging. Please tell me you are well though?"
Drake continues to move on while considering the contents of his case.
"Mittens, can you tell if your mother is well? She had a strenuous evening. And where will we go if the ship is under attack?" Rashida ponders a moment. "Did you ask when we are now or did I mishear? It is the night of the opera. We just came aboard the Phantom today. The opera is over and all have fled. We're in an underwater tunnel to some facility in the lake." She gives the young helmetcat a puzzled look. "Does that help?"
"I understand why you'd be confused if I ask when it is. My helmetspace timestamp is out of synch with others, though, because of the methods of four dimensional transport that I use are non-standard. Heck, probably even illegal! Certainly not approved by the Rorenson family... But I've already said too much. The basic result is that I never know what time it is, so that's a big help..." says Mittens cheerily. She looks up towards her mother, then gets up on her hind legs, pressing her forepaws against Rashida's leg. "She's alive. Breathing well. I'm not a doctor. Well, not a medical doctor, I have a PhD. Yes, I know, at my age that's just brilliant. You should resist your urge to shower me with praise. Or not. I'm not judging. And, well, the ship has someone on it. It's not quite under attack. They are likely waiting for your return."
"Then I suppose we shall have to work on a plan to counter their plans for when we get back." Drake smiles at the helmet cat, "You are a great help, Miss Mittens. Thank you for that. And, Ms. Massri, may I take the Duchess off your hands so that I may watch her and make sure she stays well. I may be a human's doctor but I know enough about animals as well. She will be safe in my care."
The doctor puts out a hand for the older helmet cat and will hold her close to his heart if Rashida gives her to him. The human gives the cats an adoring smile as he has a love for animals.
Rashida looks down at the sleeping helmetcat, finding herself oddly reluctant to relinquish the warm weight. "I am useless for much besides carrying her, while you can both fight and heal, Doctor. You need your hands for that. Who knows what we will find ahead?"
"No ninja, I hope," Vorian remarks curtly, thinking back to the pair of assassins that he had encountered earlier. The razor-sharp shuriken in his pocket was a stark reminder of how close he and the inspector had been to getting killed. And now he owed his life to another; not to a woman this time, but to a talking lizard. But which of us were they aiming for? "There must have been at least four assassins running around tonight. The Duchess' actions should have subdued all of them... right?"
"She should have neutralized them all, yes.... unless one of us is an assassin." Rashida looks around the group with a tinge of paranoia.
Lots of new people here with the old crew. Who knows where their allegiances lie?
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"Now that brings back memories..." Vorian says with a sigh, his weariness getting the better of him.
Drake notices how weary everyone is and stops to open his bag, "I have a medication for pain and weariness which should help us. I know it will help me." He takes out a pill bottle, removes two pills then gets a canteen of water. The doctor pops the pills and takes a sip of water then offers them to the others.
Vorian briefly considers Drake's offer, thinking to the collection of burns and bruises that still covered parts of his body. The dull, radiating pain was an annoyance, but it was hardly crippling. He had been subjected to far worse. After all, they are merely flesh wounds.
"No thank you, Doctor. I have been told before that it is unwise to mix medications."
Rashida's beaded braids fly as she jerks her head in a quick negative shake at Drake's offer. "I am not nearly so tired as the rest of you, having done nothing yet, to speak of. Come, let us get to the lab quickly!" And she hastens down the underwater tunnel, heedless of its odd beauty, until the watertight doors at the far end blossom into view.
"The doors are much like the other end, then there were the mechanical men and spiders," she explains, "But Ysillith and Cassie and Squirrel took care of those things, then started upstairs. I do not know if they found the scientists or lab technicians. Can some of you crank those doors open?"
Mittens says to Drake, "You have any catnip in that bag? Answer me while my mother's still sleeping. No need to bother her with the fine details." With that, she hurries on after Rashida, "My kingdom for a hoverboard. Someone, pick me up!"
Drake picks up Mittens as she starts to rush off and puts her on his shoulder, "Catnip tea good?" He says as he puts a bag of catnip tea on his shoulder with the string under her paw and starts off. The smell of catnip is strong, "It's rather good with honey. I can open that."
He goes to the doors and attempts to open it, not heeding whether the cat's claws are in his shoulder or not.