Having made its way back to the upper service passages above the more prestigious booths of the wealthier clientele, the figure crouches and works at a hatch which opening into the corridor below. after a few moments work the catches release and the figure stands. There is some complicated adjustments to an item worn by the figure...followed a few moments later by a 'pop' and a static 'fizz' in the air. For a brief moment all the hair and clothing on the mysterious figure 'puff out' before falling back into their normal place.
The figure drops through the shaft, tapping the control tab deftly as it plummets by such that the hatch mechanisms slip the lid shut even as the figure stands, gives themselves a final brush down before slipping back into the box shared by Drake Khoth and his companion.
The dark figure watches Ralph's actions from where it has slid to a halt a few dozen feet above him. It shakes its head at the rough and ready nature the other urchin is crudely man-handling the prone girl's body. With not even a sigh, it waits until the puckish street hustler has hauled the girl out of the shaft and into the adjoining room's space.
Instincts have Ysillith giving chase to the moving prey, even as her mind begins to catch up with her powerful strides.
Even as Alyce is scrabbling desperately for a hand-hold in the dark, Ysillith's preternatural 'Dark-vison' highlights the vents and the shaft the waif is losing her battle with gravity to resist plummeting down.
As Alyce drops into the abyss...Ysillith simply extends a leg against the far wall, the other on the ledge behind her, braces and points an arm downwards.
Ysillith actually grins, then gives out a little chuckle.
"Who am I?" She rhetorically asks the girl who's suddenly full of spit and vinegar. She leans back against the large vent's wall, tucking away the pistol within her coat as she folds her arms. She shakes her head,
"Well, since ye've been so forth comin' with yer own particulars," And Ysillith gives a slight bow, "The name be Ysillith. Ysilith Mearlleux in the speakin' of your kind." She sniffs "The language just don't do it the proper inflections..."
She stares again at Alyce, "And now that we've such formalities out'a the way, where in I might remind ye we've reached no parlay, nor have we come to any accord, I am th' one who's got yer life in me hands and am sore pressed as to whether it be worth havin'." Ysillith absently glances down the shaft.
"I've noted ye've not been sorely missed as yet...." She stares at Alyce again, "I know ye be playin' games, I just want t'save m'self some time and have ye explain whut they be." Ysillith shrugs "Or we can go back t'me much simpler plan of guttin' ye and thence leavin' ye hangin' by the giblets." The taller woman offers, "And I do so like simple plans...'
The powerful spring loaded winch whisks the pair of them way up into the lofting ceiling. With a quick and experienced foot Ysillith snags a ledge and pulls them both into the darkness of a transverse air-shaft as the service hatch below opens and a large man peers into the darkness. Watching the fellow's actions Ysillith growls as he retrieves the girl's dropped tray, muscles in the taller woman's arm contracting and causing Alyce to wince and pat feebly at the offending limb.
Ysillith waits a moment more as the waiter? Guard? Mercenary? Goon? loiters a moment too long before stepping back outside and closing the hatch. Ysillith flings the girl across the space were she comes to rest gasping and wincing at the rough treatment.
"Yer little accident has caused me some vexation." Ysillith warns, even as she goes about retrieving and re-winding her grapple-gun.
"That feller's been snoopin' about almost as bad as yerself." She comments absently, "But, unlike yerself, that one's got all the marks of a proper threat." Ysillith continues to look down the shaft, "Did ye see th' size of 'im? Make a right amount of work in'a tussle." Ysillith notes absently, then she stares intensely at Alyce.
"So then, luv. Explain t'me why I shouldn't gut ye and hang ye up by yer giblets?" And there is a weird calmness about the taller woman's manner which one might find disturbing.
So...forgive me in my writing style and Ysillth's hard arsed character portrayal. *Bows*
First.
Ysillith will kill Alyce on the provisos of,
1) She thinks she can get away with it. (And currently she most definitely does)
2) There is nothing at all to gain from keeping Alyce alive (Currently just having the name of some minor family is not enough)
3) Ysillith thinks she is being lied to (And given young Aylce's furtive motions about the people Ysillith is being paid to protect? Ysillith kind of does want Alyce to explain some things)
Ysillith sighs, "I know who she is. There be an arraignment a'tween ourselves." ysillith seems to not care about the tears now leaking from the girl in her grasp.
"I seen yer there behind yer so called idol an' that were avarice, not Hero worship, clear as day. I've been far too long in th' buisness of takin' what I want an' killing anything what gets in me way t' easily spot th'..." Ysillith pauses, her head tilting slightly. She adjusts her grip upon the girl, the knife disappearing as swiftly as it had appeared. Flipping the girl around and clutching her in a deft choker-hold the taller woman closes and locks the panel through which she's dragged Alyce then fumbles about in her great cloak pockets for a moment more.....
"Make so much as a squeak an' I'll kill ye afore them's what's comin' can kill me." Ysillith growls threateningly to Alyce, even as the taller woman raises an arm and there is a soft 'Pafph' from the object clutched their-in.
Ysillith's eyes narrow, "Yer name may as well be...But yer actions? They be speakin' of a whole different skein." The knife flat presses ever so slightly more against Alyce skin.
"Agin I ask ye t'speak of what yer're up to, who ye might be associated with...What were it that had yer attention so wrapped up ye din't hear me sneakin' up on ye self, hmmmm?" Ysillith purrs.
"I be an old, dab hand at filetin' and th' disappearin' bodies, so don't think yer pretty-ness is some charm t'over come me...better nature." Ysillith leans closer,
"Me patience and time fer gabbin' be almost up...and so, almost, be yours. Talk. I were watchn' ye fer quite th' while afore ye stole in't yon cupboard. I seen yer shiftin' ways an' flutterin' hands. When Ysillith Mearlleux catches the scent o' something askance, she's not often wrong. Or else she'd be dead an' them's whut might have wished me harm would not be."
"Last chance Missy. Talk t'me now, or ye'll never talk t'any-one agin..."" There is menace in the taller woman's words, but no passion nor malice. The possible lethal actions being threatened seem a calm and second nature to the tall woman.
Ysillith grabs the lass and drags her back into the service hall. The taller Satyxian primed and ready to spring her trap.
"Oh no ye don't, ye little snippet." The Satyxan's greater height, strength and experience with similar gutter snipes taking a firm hold upon the girl's shoulder. Enough force being applied to make said arm go numb for a moment.
The panel slides closed behind them and the girl is suddenly aware of a large and wickedly curved knife has appeared in the tall woman's other hand, deftly pressing against the skin of her throat.
"Now then, lets you an' me have a little...parlay..." Ysillith purrs. "And don't be thinkin' at gettin' the better of me nature, missy. I've a long hand at dealin' with people scuttlin' about in th' dark. Who are ye? Who might ye work for? Talk well and perhaps we can come to some...accord" Ysillith purrs.
As Alice eyes slowly grow accustomed to the gloom of the service way as she desperately thinks of what to say...She notes with a chill that the eyes of the tall woman accosting her seem to give off an faint eerie green glow all of their own in the dark.
I have her exactly where I want her...*Laughs menacingly* >:)
From high up, tucked into the angle where one of the wall's colour-steam columns meats with the over arching roof supports, the Mysterious Figure watches those below. Deftly they move along the hidden service ways, being careful to avoid the very occasional human technicians and safe knowing the adjustments worked into their own devices will shield them with clever interference from the houses roving servo-eyes.
After covering the space of the grand hall in three dimensions, the Mysterious Figure comes to alight above and behind the gathering of Drake with Cassie, Ralph upon her arm. The entrance of yet more Nobles has the figure pausing for just a moment, then quickly they use the distraction to access one of the hidden service panels.
Standing upon the narrow cat-walk which is suspended by cables and rods from the ceiling of the corridor, itself cleverly hidden within the false ceiling which is the gilded facade that is all the theater patron's notice when they deign to look up at all, the figure stops and looks down.
Peering through the many delicate vents and gratings, which are all part of the filigree of many panels and decorations which add to the visual richness of the theater's experience, the figure pauses as it watches the interactions between the dashing, dark haired nobleman and the fawning 'groupy' which has cornered him.
The watching, lurking figure smirks at the noble-mans deft disposal of the drink as he distracts the vapid wench. The maid simpers for a short while longer before fumbling about with a curtsy and skipping off. With deft strides the figure clinging in the rafters, moves off following her motions. Flitting from vent to grating to loose panel with ease.
