"Let's go with Stylist's choice. This is for work rather than my own fun, after all, and the Lady is footing the bill. I'm sure you know what would be most suitable for tonight's events. Saying that...I prefer loose clothes with easy movement if that's possible to include." Seraphina held her arms out to be measured.
After letting the Slaanad and the peons disembark, Jean took note of where his coworkers were before stepping back into the lift. He gave his short term elevator companions an almost cheery little half-wave before resuming his upward trajectory.
”Very good. The Silver Coin has a waiting room, I suggest we make use of it.”
The waiting room has several leather seats and side tables with tabloid magazines on them. Including a fashion catalog or ten.
"Let's go with Stylist's choice. This is for work rather than my own fun, after all, and the Lady is footing the bill. I'm sure you know what would be most suitable for tonight's events. Saying that...I prefer loose clothes with easy movement if that's possible to include." Seraphina held her arms out to be measured.
”Hmm, I was hoping you’d say that...” Ms. Silverhook finally places her glasses on her face and begins her planning. After completing her measurements, Silverhook leaves Seraphina to her place. The nook the measuring was done in is surrounded with full size mirrors where Silverhook slips between, and behind a curtain. The expected tapping of heels and unfurling cloth emanates from behind the curtain. Then promptly followed out by the sounds of a drill. And more than one flash of light with the scent of acrid smoke. Perhaps less expected.
For the sake of expediency we will fast forward between the actual crafting process of the outfits the party will receive and move towards the results.
The mirrors and curtain pull back simultaneously to present Seraphina with an ensemble that comes complete with both a flowing silver-lined scarf and parasol. The top is a gauzy corset that flows into a knee-length skirt with a matching pair of low leather heels and gloves. All in the house colors of Ainsworth, the classic red and black.
”I quite like the scarf personally. Lady Ainsworth was clear in her instructions. She wanted the clothing I put together to have an element of practicality to them. I like to honor my agreements even if I’m kept waiting for two hours past the time I cleared for the event. I must assume of course, that there was a good reason for the delay by the state of your clothing when we met.”
In order to demonstrate another feature of the full get-up, Ms. Silverhook takes the parasol in her left hand and waves with her right, which signals to some out-of-view thing to move a ceiling mounted hook over. It carries a pumpkin that she promptly skewers cleanly with the pointed tip of the parasol.
“What do you think?”
Clockwork Hound. A notable difference is that while this model retains the mindless quality, it can interpret orders as well as a dog of living flesh.
At the desk stands Bishop as it seems the two weren’t meant to part for long, and another man in a bathrobe. His face is red, but not angry.
"It's lovely," Seraphina exclaimed as she gave it an experimental whirl. Well...the dress was, and the corset. And the gloves and the scarf. The shoes were...less her style, and not what she really wanted, but they fit the outfit. Plus she'd heard tell that some fancy parties wouldn't allow you to enter in bare feet or simple sandals.
She'd live with it. For now.
"Thank you so much. Yes, there was a reason for the mess we were in." She hefted the surprisingly hefty parasol, examing exactly how the catch system worked. "I'm afraid it's a bit of a tale, though."
Abel sits down in the waiting room, casually looking around This is very new to me.
Takesh slithers out of the elevator, amused by the stranger's needless aggression towards the guards. Still, it was easy to see how things could escalate. Arriving on 34, she quickly picks Lady Ainsworth out of the crowd. Studying those around the Lady for a few moments, Takesh begins her approach. "Lady Ainsworth, I presume? My name is Takesh, I believe you were foretold of my arrival."
"Good dog," Jean said to the clockwork creature he had been inspecting. It was two of his favorite things rolled into one, dogs and precision mechanics. Though the insistence on pure clockwork bothered him. Since coming back from the Continent, he had become increasingly aware of the dogma surrounding this technology. Other promising avenues of development were increasingly being ignored for ever finer clockworks.
The recker in him found that irritating.
Still, the clockwork difference engines of this model were just as capable of emergent behavior as anything else. Long experience had taught him that if something was capable of emulating a living creature, you might as well treat it as one. He had argued that point with Bruce more than once when they were in their cups. It was the old 'Zhang_Heng's Chamber' thought experiment.
Standing from his examination of the clockwork hound and stepped over to the receptionist. "I'm with the Ainsworth party, I was told to come up here and make myself presentable," He said with little preamble and a somewhat distracted quality. He could understand the need for extra protection up in a place where the nobles would be a touch more vulnerable than usual. Instead of reassuring him, it made him more wary. People do not protect things they do not expect to be targeted.
While looking around the room, Alistair picks up a magazine with one of the royal family on the cover, and skims it. He finds a good article and gets drawn in.
Ms. Silverhook replies ”Another happy customer. These working hours fly by faster than a short breeze. Far be it from me to pry into my patrons affairs you understand, simply making small talk. If you are all set, change behind the curtain and head back to the waiting room so others can have their turn.” Once again the shop owner waves her gloved hand and another ceiling-mounted rail brings a rod with a curtain clattering forth in front of one of the mirrors.
Lady Ainsworth slowly looks over Takesh with a glimmer of recognition but no interest.
”Yes, I had nearly forgotten. Come join us. We are preparing ourselves for an important dinner tonight. We will be scouting out competition... in a manner of speaking.”
Alistair gets himself wrapped up in an article titled Travel! Of the Future!. It talks about improvements to the designs of zeppelins allowing them a better degree of movement and protection. All theoretical. There’s another section detailing newer motorized bicycles in which the author takes the time to denounce a gang in the capital that makes use of them. The go by the Chevaliers.
”Mmm-hm. Ainsworths. Very ostentatious sir. Will you be using the standard room or a deluxe package? Standard starts at nine silver and gets you a private shower and complementary bathrobe rental, the deluxe pack starts at 3 gold and goes up to 20 with each amenity. Room 12 has the standard accommodations, it’s currently open.”
A masculine voice barks behind Tom and he can’t help but think it was directed at him.
”You gonna check in those weapons? You ain’t goin’ anywhere without ‘em short of security clearance.”
Jean's flat look at the mention of a deluxe package was nearly enough to curdle milk, "Standard and don't worry about the bathrobe. I'm gearing up as soon as I'm clean."
He slapped the coins down on the counter (including a two silver tip) and started for the room in question, all the while grumbling about 'deluxe' this and 'bathrobe rentals'.
Tom wheels on his feet to face the person yelling at him. “Oh well actually I came in with Mr. Savard and he sent me to meet with Mrs. Ainsworth on the 34th floor. I was under the impression it would be best to keep my bow in case Mrs. Ainsworth needs quick use of my skills. She is not the type to be kept waiting and if I need to be on the move quickly it would be very unfortunate if I had to stop to pick up my affairs wouldn’t it Mr. uuhhh what was your name? I didn’t catch it when you yelled.”
Should the checks fail Tom will begrudgingly comply and check in his weapons before climbing the stairs.
Jean pays his price, and finds his way to room ten. The room beyond the wooden door is barely wider than the doorframe itself. The shower has an intact if frayed curtain, and a fresh bar of soap at least. The bathrobe hangs next to a towel in line with a short and awkwardly placed sink.
This exhausting trek lasts about twenty minutes as Tom ascends and the view out of the windows grows. Soon the people below on the ground look like ants. The first few floors were marked with a sign painted in black on the wall labeled: in blocky text. Next he can hear a rhythmic pounding through the walls as he passes . The lights are red in hue here.
Tom then reaches and finally, a doorway labelled “Floor Thirty-four” in his short expedition. With a list of features on the side of the frame that include the name ”The Silver Coin” among others. Most of the attractions on this floor are restaurants.
Jean is about as quick as he can be in the shower, kicking aside his now probably ruined clothes. Toweling off quickly, he stopped by the bathroom mirror and fixed himself with a steady stare. Time and service had not been entirely kind to his body. He had a fair number of scars and old wounds, including a strangely grey patch of flesh on his stomach that was the only marker from a brush with a witch that tried to warp his flesh into abominations on the continent.
There was a long moment where he had to honestly question just what he was getting into here and for who. Bishop had made some good points in that elevator. Still, here he was, and Jean always did the job in front of him.
It took a few minutes to change into his gear. The military surplus gambeson and trousers added a needed layer of padding between the armor and his flesh. Then came the support frame, a metal skeleton of clever struts and hydraulics that distributed and supported the armor's weight. With this rig, the armor did not seem to weigh a thing and Jean could run at nearly full speed with it.
The final part was the armor itself. He had stripped sections from it and was working on refitting them into a more efficient arrangement. Currently he was just wearing a high collared breastplate, pauldrons, gauntlets and greaves. None of it was flashy, all of a dull, dark metal without a single embellishment. It had obviously been repaired more than once. The canny observer might recognize a certain similarity between his gear and the suits of armor used by certain official groups in the city, but those were inevitably fancier and customized to the groups in question.
He strode out into the lobby, his armor adding another few inches to his already imposing height. He still stuck out in this building, but now it seemed like everyone else was out of place and he was the one who knew what he was doing.
"Things always go wrong when you're comfortable, Bishop."
While climbing Tom stops and looks at the robotic dog. Tom is curious by nature and is slammed with the impulse to learn about this creature through magical means taught to him by his deity. But he stops and thinks. “I am new to this place. Should this creature be the property of this building or someone important I could get into trouble if it believes my moves to be aggressive... I guess I’ll just have to find another opportunity under different circumstances once I’m a bit better integrated...” Tom swears in Dwarven. His favorite language to curse in. They really do have the best swears of any language.
Tom continues his climb for the remaining floors. When he finally reaches the top he is red in the face and breathing heavily but so very relieved to be done with the climb. Tom takes a quick moment to catch his breath before opening the door to floor 34. Where he will likely once again be slammed with sensory overload due to the opulence. Once recovered he will search for the individuals described by Kal. Mrs. Ainsworth, a fish person, a military type with a scowl, and a woman with glowing tattoos.
Seraphina adjusts her new attire to taste, and departs for the waiting room where the rest of the group sits with a new member. The third Slanaad she’s seen today, which is only a bit less likely than seeing two moons out at the same time. And there’s only one moon.
”Okay, Alistair was it? Come have your turn, we’ll see if you can find something accommodating.”
”My apologies. A persistent cough I’m afraid.” And just like that, his composure is back as if he hadn’t looked nearly deceased a moment ago.
”I must admit, your interesting choice of attire has gotten my attention Jean.”
Outside a foreign man in a maroon leather vest covering some light traveling armor stands looking at the folks of house Ainsworth.
Seraphina looked at the Slanaad in surprise. This was getting weird, and weird was usually worth mentioning. It was probably nothing, but you could never be sure. She glanced at the others to try and work out what was going on.
"Style is great but I am a fencer ma'am. I need mobility." Alistair pulls back his collar to reveal the mithral shirt beneath. "And I need something not so form fitting that it shows I am wearing this."
“I was hired for a protection detail, so the armor comes standard, ma’am,” Jean noted stiffly. His whole demeanor was stiff inside the armor, seeming unnatural until you realized he was standing at attention.
He did not make eye contact with Morgana, instead fixing his gaze upon a point slightly above and to the side of her head, just like he and plenty of other grunts used to with commanding officers. Navigating the attentions of aristocrats was much the same a navigating the attentions of officers, mostly because there was a lot of overlap between the two groups. “And it’s Master Roth, if you don’t mind. I’d prefer to keep things formal.”
Takesh is somewhat taken aback by, well... everything that's happening around her. It was one thing for Lady Ainsworth not to have a moment to chat with her, but for her to seem bored, tired, distracted, it made Takesh even more uneasy with the situation. And that there was an important dinner? Mama had mentioned nothing of the sort. In the waiting area she glances at Abel and Seraphina, aware that she's already drawing their attention.
The man's tendrils and fins made him look as out of place as she did. Clearly someone not from around here, she thinks, noting that he carries no visible weapons. For some reason, that knowledge does not make her more at ease. Perhaps it was the knowledge that she, too, did not carry visible weapons, and knew what she was capable of. He was an unknown. Her eyes flicked over to the woman. Dark skinned, muscular yet lithe. They were both disciplined. Something else with her, though. Glowing purple spots. Brands? Takesh wasn't sure. Something felt familiar about her eyes, though. Takesh was sure she'd seen them - or ones like them - before.
"Seven Hells," Takesh curses, "she doesn't have a weapon, either." She thought back to the man in the elevator, how much he stood out with his large weapon and rough attire, and how much she'd prefer that sort of company right now. The kind that was straightforward, predictable. She looks back towards the entrance in time to notice the same man walking towards the shop, looking considerably cleaned up. "Even he's part of this? Just what is going on here?"
Greeting, i am Abel He greets with his usual pleasant, polite tone of voice. one hand folded behind back the other extended to shake, his hand emanating a slight flicker of blue energy
For a visual: Tom is about 5’9’’ and fairly lithe. His hair and eyes are both a light brown color. Toms hair is a bit scruffy. The maroon leather vest he wears atop a chain shirt is frayed in places he wears a plain white long sleeve shirt as the bottom layer of his upper body clothing . Both sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. Around his neck rests an amulet with the symbol of the Norn on it. For pants he is wearing a simple brown slacks. His boots are very simple have a fair coating of dirt. On his right hand is an archer’s glove, which makes good sense given that he has a bow slung over one shoulder and a quiver hanging on his right hip. There are a number of scuffs across many of the items he carries and a gnarled gash through part of his quiver that is large enough to see arrow shafts through.
Tom shakes himself back into reality once he realizes he has been staring. And as Abel introduces himself Tom has a moment where he checks over his shoulders to make sure he isn’t talking to someone else.
All at once Tom blurts out his introduction to the group before him seemingly without taking a breath. “Hello Ms. Ainsworth and associates, my name is Tom and I was told to search you out by Mr. Savard. He said you would likely find use of me and my talents.” Tom gives a strange (clearly nervous) smile and bows.
A small smile and a low chuckle creep up to Morgana as she looks at Bishop for a moment, then back to Master Roth.
"...Hmm. Very good then. Very good indeed.” She then speaks to the others assembled.
”I recommend you converse and adjust to one another's presence. Do not be afraid to ask questions, you will be working closely with each of the people in this room in the coming days. There is another man by the name of Alistair Fox being fitted at the moment. He was an enjoyable change of pace, to find a..." The noblewoman has a calculating eye about her as she looks over the gathered company for a moment. This eye is heavily distracted by the sound of an accented voice, and trails off as it turns to see the new new fellow, Tom. For once in the eyes of those who've been around her for a while, Morgana doesn't seem to know what to say when this man approaches the group.
"Style is great but I am a fencer ma'am. I need mobility." Alistair pulls back his collar to reveal the mithral shirt beneath. "And I need something not so form fitting that it shows I am wearing this."
”Oh, no need to worry about that dear.” Ms. Silverhook responds confidently as she approaches the same fairly private room she performed measurements in last time. After adjusting the mirrors inside the room, she holds a tape measure in her right hand out to Alistair.
”Would you be kind enough to hold this for a moment?” The woman asks as she begins fiddling with the glasses around her neck, moving the additional lenses atop the frame.
With this many people individual introductions would be a bit of a hassle, so... Greetings to you all, i am Abel follower of the Lord Soriel. I am as you can likely tell, not from Calweld. He speaks out loud, smiling, generally positive and friendly, I am a trained martial artist and more recently have unlocked other abilities he makes a flourish with his hand that flashes with a blue aura
Jean loomed over the party like something out of a bad dream. Abel and Seraphina had gotten plenty of time to get used to him down in the sewers but that was when he was just an ill-tempered man with a revolver and a chip on his shoulder large enough to hold an average-sized tenement building.
Now he stood before them in his full kit, rifle held casually as though it were an unneeded umbrella. There was no mistaking what he was now, the guns and the dull armor made that incredibly clear to the casual observer.
"Jean-Guy Roth, former sergeant in the Royal Engineering Corps, dishonorably discharged. I get things done," Jean said matter-of-factly, he was not a man with secrets. He looked over the assembled party, noting the fancy new duds on. It was no surprise, Abel and Seraphina had not had a chance to retreat and change and their new patron was likely the sort to just go ahead and buy new clothes than be mildly inconvenienced. For what it was worth, they looked good.
He caught the serpentine eye of the Slanaad from the elevator among their ranks now, that provoked a quirked eyebrow from him and maybe something almost like a brief smile.
On the mainland, I highly doubt they are viewed favorably.
Alistair takes the tape measure and says, "My pleasure, my lady."
Alistair takes the tape measure and says, "My pleasure, my lady."
As Alistair takes hold of the innocuous device it seems heavier than it should be. In a moment it becomes clear Leona did not let go. Her hand separated from her arm, a metal plate affixed to her wrist remains of her detached hand now revealed as a prosthetic. She holds her left hand to her mouth in feigned horror before swiftly losing her composure.
A shrill cacophanus laugh from the rear of the store erupts, audible to everyone in the foyer, and the hall for that matter.
"AHAHHA..."*ahem* "Oh I’m terribly sorry, I love doing that to people. Can’t help myself sometimes. Let’s get you suited up.” She holds her remaining digits out for her hand back.
She presents a silken suit with a silver tie and undershirt framed by a black tailcoat. A wide brimmed hat as well. Simple, and slim. On further inspection, she shows an exceptional amount of flexibility in the material with a minor showcase.
”It has a hint of a mithral weave, mostly in the joints you see. It won’t be stopping a bullet any time soon, but you have that taken care of.”
She then offers a wide brimmed hat, black with a set of red feathers in the side. House colors for Ainsworth, as before. Then she shows four vials hidden between the feathers and the brim, small and filled with something liquid.
”Form is nothing without function, and style is a waste without substance. It would suffice to say I agree with your assertions about meeting the two. Leave empty preening for the fools in politics. And don’t tell Lady Ainsworth I said that, pleasethankyouverymuch.”
In addition, the full outfit happens to be reversible, offering a +2 circumstance bonus to any disguise checks Alistair might make while wearing the outfit.
"It's outstanding my lady. You have impeccable taste. When time permits you will have to let me repay your efforts with a fine dinner at a place of your choosing." Alistair says with a smile.
"I am called Takesh" the Slanaad says by way of introduction, but offers nothing else about herself. Unlike Jean-Guy, she had quite a few secrets, and wasn't much in the habit of saying too much to strangers.
"A pleasure to meet you," Seraphina replied with a smile. "I'm Seraphina."
”Oh. Oh!” It seems to take Leona a moment to register Alistairs offer.
”Thank you. I’ll have to keep that in mind when I finally get some time to myself. Off with you now.” She waves Alistair behind the curtain to change with a cloth bag to keep his old clothes in.
As the two make their way to the foyer she says to herself: ”We’re making phenomenal time, I dare say I’ll have that last fellow in regalia by-” Ms. Silverhook trails off as she looks over the three new people present.
”So many people… very well.” The woman in blue takes a deep breath. Adjusting the many-lensed spectacles hanging from her neck, she introduces herself once more.
”Good day all. My name is Miss Silverhook it’s a pleasure to meet you. I will admit I didn’t expect to see so many customers near closing, but I never turn down a customer in need. First come first serve I’m afraid.” She lightly waves Abel over to her to begin his measurements, before glimpsing Tom still in the hall. ”You may come in too if you like. We have quite a few seats, though I’m afraid you will have to wait until Lady Ainsworths appointment is over.”
“Yes he does. He is also going to be on this account.”
“oh...”
Jean looked down at his current attire, then back as Miss Silverhook, before finally turning to look at his employers. He was not sacrificing the armor for the sake of looking like a perfumed retainer and most of the things the tailor might provide him would be crushed under his armor before being sweated into oblivion. Never mind the fact that his gambeson and breeches were specifically padded to keep the armor from chafing and pinching.
Abel nods and goes over, his posture and form excellent Greetings Miss Silverhook, I am Abel
Tom looks about the group. A colorful band to day the least. “I am Tom. A skilled archer and a bit of an expert in finding the weaknesses of things. Also I speak 6 languages fluently. I know that large numbers can be difficult sometimes but if you would have me Ms. Ainsworth I promise to do my best to be of value to you.”
Tom looks about the rest of the group including the clothing being tailored to Alistair, trying to see his own reflection in jean’s armor and then looking maybe just a second to long at the glowing tattoos on serephina and the scales covering Abel. But he does not specifically speak to anyone other than Ms. Ainsworth.
Tom would also like to try and see what he can get off of Ms. Ainsworth as far as personality. And maybe how she is receiving him.
"A very diverse crew you have put together Ms Ainsworth. A couple I had not met before stepping behind the curtain. A good day to you Tom, I am Alistair. Alistair Fox, rescuer of fair damsels and such." Alistair looks at Takesh and Jean, "What do you two prefer to go by?"
Tom nods to Alistair and says “Good day to you too Alistair.” still speaking just a tad to quickly.
“Jean or Master Roth,” Jean said, somewhat flatly, still waiting to see if his employers were going to insist on a wardrobe change for him.
In the lobby Morgana seems to be handling the arrival of all these individuals quite well.
She doesn’t say anything to Jean, simply raising an eyebrow in his direction when he looks at her before looking through one of the magazines. Input from Bishop is minimal as he has similarly decided to stand at attention, a typical choice while in the company of his nobleborn master.
”Hello Abel, right this way.” The shopkeep leads Abel to the back as with the others. A private room, surrounded by mirrors and a tapeline for measuring. ”I have to say, this is a very exotic style of dress. Where is it from? Also, is there anything you’d like me to do with your dorsal… appendage? I’m fairly good at improvising.”
I'm from a small fishing village outside the city, it sunk beneath the waves after an earthquake, some of us are rebuilding beneath the ocean. Also i'm thinking maybe a strap on the sleeves to open them and slide the fins through or maybe flare sleeves? Abel outstretches his arms and such for ease of measurements, It's the robes from my temple, most of my clothes are water proof or resistant
I'm from a small fishing village outside the city, it sunk beneath the waves after an earthquake, some of us are rebuilding beneath the ocean. Also i'm thinking maybe a strap on the sleeves to open them and slide the fins through or maybe flare sleeves? Abel outstretches his arms and such for ease of measurements, It's the robes from my temple, most of my clothes are water proof or resistant
”Beneath the ocean? Truly? I’m not familiar with this event, but it sounds like a fascinating engineering marvel. At any rate, let us see what I can do for you. Open and water-proof? Consider it done.”
Again she disappears behind a curtain. Whirring machines all around progress before the final product is revealed.
”I must confess, I couldn’t think of anything for a headpiece, terribly sorry. However, I think the outfit as a whole should prove both accommodating to your lifestyle and respectable in high-society. At the very least you can show folks your designer label to impress.”
Outside, Morgana speaks to some of the group assembled.
"Tom. Seat yourself. You're standing out too much. And Takesh. I am pleased to see Graymand honoring her end of our agreement. I'd like the both of you to tell me something. I can tell how everyone else in this room has interacted with individuals of my caliber from a glance, it's part of my job. Work I am quite good at. What is your experience in high-society? I want to hear it from you."
Tom takes a seat immediately after Morgana asks. In fact after walking up all those stairs a chance to sit sounds down right exciting. Though his excitement does not last long. When Lady Ainsworth asks about his experience with powerful individuals it is very noticeable to those around that Tom straightens up and the red color in his cheeks from climbing 40+ flights of stairs instantly drains away. Tom has a number of very vivid daydreams about just how poorly this conversation could go for him if he attempts to lie given that he is terrible at it.
Tom will look about the group and then back to Morgana and sigh before speaking. “I have an extensive amount of experience working in close proximity to very powerful, influential individuals in faraway lands. As for here within Calweld I had a 15 minute trip here with Mr. Savard and just a moment with you... so... less.”
Seraphina shrugged. "I have no experience with anything but the dancing. Being raised in a monastery will do that."
Jean repressed a vicious little smile. The last notable interaction he had had with someone of Lady Ainsworth 'caliber' left someone with a wired up jaw and it had not been Jean. He was still rather fond of that memory, even after all the trouble it had caused.
Still, he kept his eyes on Tom and Takesh, curious enough about the new additions.
"I can tell how everyone else in this room has interacted with individuals of my caliber from a glance, it's part of my job. Work I am quite good at. What is your experience in high-society? I want to hear it from you."
Takesh smiles, her fangs clearly visible. "My job is to mesh," she begins, speaking more plainly than she was necessarily accustomed to. Something told her to be straightforward with Morgana. Besides, it would be good for the others to know her talents - well, some of them at least. With everything she could say, there were two or three more things that she wouldn't. "Which I am doing well if you cannot pin me down so easily. But to answer your question, my upbringing was one of nobility. I'm well-educated in art and music, and can play the violin quite well. I've had... let's say encounters with more than a few noble families. It's a balancing act, to be able to meet your opponent on their terms, without them even knowing that you're at war... In short, Mama Graymand wouldn't have sent me if I wouldn't be of value to you."
Oh, no. don't worry, head pieces have never been my style. This outfit is rather beautiful, Thank you truly. Abel gives a respectful bow and heads out to the others
”Indeed. Performing arts have been a recurring theme within my recent employees it seems. Which house would that be Takesh?”
Oh, no. don't worry, head pieces have never been my style. This outfit is rather beautiful, Thank you truly. Abel gives a respectful bow and heads out to the others
”You are quite welcome my good man.” Ms. Silverhook walks with Abel as he meets back with the group.
”So, who’s next? We have a ways to go, but we’re still on schedule to finish before your eight o’clock Lady Ainsworth.”
Morgana acknowledges this and answers with a pleasant smile this time.
”Master Roth? If you would. I know you are entirely enraptured by our conversation here, but there are others to stand guard at the moment. I think you may find yourself pleasantly surprised.”
Leona politely waves Jean over as an invitation. Bishop stands by in silence.