Paper faces on parade

[Anonymous]

Raspberry Wasp always wore a figurative mask, but today, she'd wear a literal one.

Crafted from papier-mâché and gilded in liquid gold, purchased by the Director and delivered to her in heavy-duty packaging, the mask was refined and poised, but not so much that it would outshine the true hosts of this party, or put her in any sort of spotlight. Despite her looks – her red, slimming dress and high heels, along with her done up hair – she was not here to shine, but to stay in the shadows, to listen, to learn, to observe. If anything, the mask only made her job easier – it helped to hide her even further from the gilded, glistening world.    

Perhaps the only thing that made her stand out was the fat, lazy bird on her shoulder. It was a chubby little thing, one that appeared to be part chicken and part griffin, which gained her more questions and attention than she'd hoped for. She adjusted the chick's bowtie, scowling at her beloved pet, and prayed to whatever god was listening out there that Kruppoh wouldn't get her in trouble tonight. If she messed this up, she'd regret it for the rest of her life. After all, it wasn't every day that she finally got a lead on the mage hunters situation, and she'd be damned if she had to start from scratch again, or jeopardize her position.

The bird was dressed well too, with a small black bowtie tied loosely around its neck. Proud and excited, Kruppoh fluttered its wings in excitement, pecking Raspberry every now and again, overjoyed to be in such a lively place. Raspberry would stroke the bird silently to keep it still, ignoring Kruppoh passively, keeping her eyes on the dance floor and her ears alert. This was a group of smaller nobles, she knew, of a party-loving viscountess who sometimes threw galas simply to show off her latest new dress, commissioned by some famous celebrity tailor. The informant took care to ignore the viscountess and her cohorts – they were the small fry in this situation. No, what Raspberry was looking out for were possible mage-hunters, lurking in this very room.

This viscountess had an eye for parties, but her house was lacking proper security, and she failed to arrange a proper guest list. Thus, without her knowledge, her galas had turned into cesspools, where thieves dressed like kings could easily swoop in and steal precious gems and artifacts, where sleazy informants could trade secrets, where mage hunters could swap secrets. If she was lucky, maybe she'd run into a mage hunter tonight, or maybe another informant. The Director had told her other information bargainers would be here, and to link with them if it was possible. Two heads were better than one, the Director had said. And four ears were better than two.

Daintily, she held a glass of red wine in her hand, but she did not drink from it – only Kruppoh ducked his fat head into the glass, slurping down the alcohol, hiccupping gracelessly as he did so. She walked, talked, even danced a little, but she could not find the informant – who she knew lurked in the shadows.

It was easy to tell the thieves and informants apart from the partygoers – they walked differently, carried themselves differently, made sure to look distinct without looking too out of places. They were the surreptitious leaders of the party, and everyone else were followers. It was all a matter of postures, manners, and that grace that let their fellows know they were ready for business. But how to tell a thief from an informant? Well, that was impossible – for informants were thieves as well, thieves of word and gossip and knowledge. And that's what made the job difficult.

Her eyes followed the crowd – following the paper faces on parade.

[Anonymous]

Hide your face so the world will never find you.

These things were always the juiciest. A dumb noble who for whatever reason didn't make a guest list, and a bunch of lower nobles that just wanted to gossip. Life couldn't get any sweeter than that. All it cost was a little money to make a mask. It was a simple thing really, it didn't cover all of his face, keeping his mouth free to talk and to drink. It was hard and strong, could put up with quite a bit of abuse honestly. It was a red and black creation with a deep dark gold surrounding the eye holes, very exotic looking, but everything was subtle enough that it didn't draw the eyes toward it too much. It didn't pop, especially with his attire of...well reds and blacks with a little bit of gold piping.

He did look like a noble, and he should, considering he stole this from one. His neatly groomed goatee was darker than the blonde hair of his head, but it looked perfect around his mouth. Thieving the clothes had been too easy, and now he was here enjoying the merriment.

Every person here was a target in his mind, but ones that he couldn't touch. That's what sucked about information gathering. You couldn't get to them...you couldn't touch all the nice money and jewels that was here. His fingers would occasionally itch and he would reach them up to straighten his mask or run them through his soft blonde hair, fixing it until it was once more perfect. Not that it could get that messed up but still, it would be a shame! A shame if it happened.

Pushing the thought of ruined hair from his mind, he decided that mingling was the best thing to do. This was a place where thieves, spies and hunters usually gathered, and you didn't want one to find you. Well, sometimes you did, but you didn't want to be noticed so easily. The trick was to seem like you had genuinely been invited to the whole thing, to have a relaxed posture and act like you were enjoying yourself. He did just that, moving through the crowd like the wind. He would pick and chat with a person here and there, he would talk to them about the weather, and about any politics that he knew about.

"Well I heard there was a scandal in Connlaoth, something big too." He said to some trollop before him. He wasn't sure who she was, she had introduced herself as some noble but he didn't care really. "Oh yes, big enough to reach our ears which is a feat in itself." The woman said with a haughty laugh. "You'd think they were just like us." The man's silk laden voice said, it was nearly a purr as he spoke, something so pleasing to hear. "Oh yes, imagine the horror if they realized that." Again another laugh from the young woman. "If you would excuse me." Yeah, enough of that. She was clearly not someone he wanted to talk to. He moved through the crowd with grace and poise, snagging a goblet on a passing tray as he did so.

Something had been making its way through the party all night that he had noticed but didn't want to bring attention to just yet. A woman with a strange fat bird on her shoulder. How inappropriate, and how...conspicuous. This couldn't be a noble. Even if that bird was the first of its kind and the rarest thing in the world, no one would bring it to a party like this. Even if they had dressed it up like that...while adorable it was still very out place, more so on her shoulder. It was causing too much of a ruckus in his opinion, flapping its wings and pecking at the owner.

Poor girl must have been one of the spies. She could have been a thief too...but he figured maybe one of the spies of the noble that held the gala. Had to have been, no one in their right mind would allow such a thing to stay if they didn't have...some connections.

He had learned so many tricks in his life. How to watch someone without actually looking at them. He would keep an eye on this woman carefully. She was different and this wasn't right at all...but no one seemed to care. She was definitely keeping herself afloat though! Dancing, mingling, just as he did...but she was also looking for someone. He could see that..."Mm, yes. Of course. No absolutely." He was 'talking' to someone again, they were going on about something, but he was following the girl with his eyes. Those brilliant blue eyes of his hiding in the darkness of his mask. "Fascinating...I need more wine." She was alone it seemed! This was the perfect time to strike now wasn't it?

Another goblet was grabbed while his old one was discarded on the tray as he approached, silent and almost invisible as he sidled up beside the woman, taking a sip of wine. "Could have just worn a sign that said 'I'm not supposed to be here' and it would have worked better." He told the woman casually, as if he were discussing the weather. His silky smooth voice though had a little bit more to it though, as if he were slightly amused by the whole thing. In truth he was. Despite her no doubt wanting to blend in, the bird sometimes took away from that, but for the most part she had been invisible.

He had to give her some credit for that.

[Anonymous]

Kruppoh noticed him before Raspberry did. The bird pecked his owner's neck twice, flapping and pointing towards the strange man who had slid ever so silently towards the informant, but Kruppoh's warnings had been ignored, for the most part. It was only after the man spoke, easily pointing out the fact that she wasn't supposed to be there while sipping a glass of wine, that she noticed him – as if he had simply appeared out of nowhere, like a phantom.

Her heart jumped in her chest, and her hand shook slightly, the wine her glass rippling – this sort of thing had always been her greatest fear as an informant. Instantly, she assumed the worst – that she'd been found out, that the nobles were onto her, that her mask had been broken – but, forcing herself to calm down, she swallowed her anxiety, turned towards the stranger with an almost cool indifference, as if his sudden words hadn't made her jump at all.

Whether he had seen her hand shake before was irrelevant; if she could play the part, maybe she could pull it off. Through her mask, she took her time taking in his features – he looked like a noble, sure, but didn't they all – and wondered if, perhaps, this was a fellow information gatherer. That would make sense, would it not – after all, he didn't seem like he was going to actively do anything about her being here.

Through her mask, she furrowed her brows. "Hmph," she muttered, her voice small and girly, as it always was. "I don't know what you're talking about. He makes a very good conversation piece." She turned to the bird, who was ducking its head in the wine glass again, "Don't you, boy?" Kruppoh, with wine dripping down its chin, nodded its head, chirped, and preened itself, as if it were trying to impress its company. He seemed to take a liking to the stranger, though only the gods knew why.

The Showan Lock – that orb Raspberry kept strapped to her arm at all times, hidden by an elaborate corsage she had pinned to her arm instead of her wrist – was stagnant, offering her no information about this man, and the Director was even quieter, if that was possible. No data, no information – it was as if the Director relished her confusion. So here Raspberry was, with no way of knowing whether this man was friend or foe, except for a blind assumption based on nothing but his mannerisms. It wasn't an ideal situation – but then again, her situations had never been ideal.

"Tell me," Raspberry asked, petting Kruppoh once more, calming him down, who was trying to inch towards that glass again, for another sip of wine. "Are you here to talk? Or are you here to listen?"

It was a standard question – one she would ask at large gatherings like this, where thieves and informants dwelled - an informant would usually respond with the later. It was not the best of questions, she knew, but it was the best she could ask at a party where most of the nobles were only here to spill the secrets they'd been saving up, not listen to old news. Granted, he could be one of the few intellectual nobles, truly here to listen to this incessant gossip, and then she'd be back at square one.

It was basic code, but if he was truly an informant, perhaps he'd cut her a break and send a signal back to her. It was a rocky situation, but she'd rather have some sort of clue as to what he was (even though she had a pretty good idea) before conversing any further. This situation was too good for her to ruin on a whim.

[Anonymous]

It was a good sign that she hadn't noticed him at first. The bird had, but he wasn't obligated to look or talk to anything so he could act like a look out. It hadn't done her any good however as he still managed to sneak up on her despite the bird having seen him. She didn't betray herself too much, she hadn't jumped in surprise, which would have gotten everyone's attention and perhaps ruined image and disguise at this time. It was definitely good to see that she had some intelligence to her.

That was perhaps a little cruel, but the bird just stuck out and she really didn't appear to belong here.

He would wait while she gathered her wits about her though, his goblet going to his lips as he took gentle sips of the aged wine. He couldn't deduce a whole lot from her appearance. Her body type didn't say anything, except that she may have ate well but her activities kept her in shape...same thing couldn't be said for her odd bird though. Her posture didn't betray her either, she didn't slouch and look undignified, so he had to give her some credit. She'd been to something like this before...not that he was complaining of course, the dress accented her figure nicely, so she was something to look at.

"He makes a good scrutiny piece in my opinion. Draws the eye toward you, makes you think 'Did I invite the woman with the bird?" The bird was intelligent it seemed, it recognized words and even seemed to care about personal appearance now. All birds did care about personal appearance, but the fact it cared about it now after being praised was something else entirely. He wasn't that interested in the bird really, it was the least of his concerns. It was the woman he was more interested in knowing.

Then came the all important question. He should have seen this coming, and he knew exactly what she was asking. It was to find out what he was really here for. A person invited would have said they were here to dance and celebrate. A thief might say he was here to talk, to gain information and ply people to see how drunk and vulnerable they were. An informant, a gatherer of information, was here to listen. But what was he? He would not deny it, he was a thief and a spy at times, mostly a thief but...he had no problem with this.

He decided to move to her other side, his goblet switching hands as he placed his now free hand upon her waist. "I'm here to see of course. All these women wanting to show their skin and...figures, a man could hardly resist it...but if hear the shadows while I'm here, all the better." He quietly said to her as he slid about to her other side, his hand dragging across the red fabric along her waist line till he reached her other side and let go.

However the touch was what he wanted, through the thin fabric it gave him all sorts of connection. "There's been a great number of thefts lately, thefts that have paid well and sit poorly with me. I've come to find some answers perhaps, at least, to get a direction." He told her carefully. She was definitely here for the same thing he was, and that was perhaps good.

[Anonymous]

Of course, Raspberry knew that she should've left Kruppoh at home, but she couldn't, considering he would have just followed her here and caused even more of a ruckus. She had once tried leaving him at the Director's office, but when Raspberry went to pick her bird up after the mission, Kruppoh seemed absolutely traumatized, and kept to himself for a week. No matter which way you sliced it, Kruppoh was a liability, she knew, but Raspberry didn't have the heart to give the bird the boot. Sadly, the boisterous bird was the only family she had.

Thus, it was quite annoying, to hear this stranger scold her about bringing her bird – what did he know, and why did he care? Raspberry sighed as she cut her eyes at him, placing her free hand on her hip. "The only one scrutinizing here is you," she pointed out, for no one had really bothered to point her out so far, except for him.

Some nobles had asked questions about him, sure, while others were quick to tickle Kruppoh under his chin while proclaiming how quite he was – but none had cast a suspicious glance her way. The viscountess and her compatriots were too frivolous and vain to care about the unassuming woman, despite the bird on her shoulder. Had this been the gala of a higher noble, she probably should have been worried, and would've restrained Kruppoh in a cage at home.

Finally, he saw it fit to answer her question – to perhaps shed his light on his status. His reaction to Kruppoh had already told Raspberry most of what she needed to know. If he thought her suspicious and saw it fit to do nothing about her, then he most likely was not a noble of this party. Either that, or he could be a noble who saw it fitting to toy with informants who snuck into masquerades like this – who knew.

But his answer – that he was here to both see women (how typical of a man! she could not help but think) and listen to the shadows – was up for interpretation. Most likely, he was an informant, but perhaps not on official business, if he had time to feast his eyes on the women here. So, perhaps he was not the informant the Director had claimed would be at this party, but he was an informant nonetheless, right? Close enough.

She was still working his words out in her head when she felt his hand on her waist. It was a gentle, unassuming touch, but Raspberry was not the kind of girl who relished being touched by strangers. Her body, being an illusion, had to work harder to keep up the façade of her appearance. As he slid his hand across her waistline, she felt her arm grow a little hotter, the result of the Showan Lock – hidden underneath her corsage of red roses – working just a little harder. She furrowed her brows, and might have seemed visibly annoyed, but said nothing.

When he finally spoke of thefts – that was when she knew, for sure, that he was here about the mages. There was no way he could be talking about anything else, at this point. Apparently, the kidnapping of these mages did not sit well with him, but to this, Raspberry shrugged, indifferent. "I couldn't care less about the thefts themselves," Raspberry informed, and as she said this, Kruppoh was moving over to her other shoulder, visibly bored. "But it seems that everyone else does. Everyone worth their salt seems ready and willing to trade their souls away, to find out the answer. I'm here to find out for them."

As the Director said, information was currency – and if she could be the one to find out where these mages were going and why, then she was sitting on a goldmine of coin. Personally, she didn't care – she had her own share of problems and could not be bothered to give a hoot about every tragedy that occurred in this world – but when money talked, Raspberry Wasp walked.

[Anonymous]

"Fourth table to the left. Older gentleman with the green vest. He's been watching you. The woman in the lavender coloured dress with the silver necklace, she's also been keeping an eye on you. The guard at the corner of the room with the halberd, he's been eyeing you, and not just because you look good." The man told her calmly, his eyes flicking over to the guard. He had been the most intent one, and he wasn't exactly sure why. He almost felt wrong, out of place but...he wasn't going to get into that right now though.

Most of the people watching her he assumed were not good people, they must have been like the two of them...informants, spies, and thieves. The Guard maybe not so much but...even then he brought attention to himself. It was fools luck though that no one was talking to them, at least to her. No one cared that she looked and felt so out of place but...maybe some good was there then.

He wasn't sure about her as he walked around her, as his hand moved around her body. Something felt...off about her. He was by no means a creature of magic...well...some would argue but...there was just something about this woman that didn't feel right. It was like he was touching magic...very heavy magic. That was certainly different and interesting. If he cared enough, he'd reach into her mind and find out what was going on but...no.

"Dealing in souls? How grotesque." Not that he believed that he had a soul. Humans have a soul after all, he was certainly not that. "It's a sad day when in a world of compassionate people, with kindness and potential for such greatness, the only ones who care about stolen mages, are the ones who want to get paid." He gave a decisive laugh afterwards though, as he felt it kind of funny. It was a good way to work though...people that were getting paid to find the answer worked the hardest. After all, they would starve if they didn't get the money.

He gave a sigh as he turned his focus back into the crowd to look at everyone there. "All the eyes can be annoying can't they? I feel each and every one of them...but his are on you...and I don't think he's blinked yet." It was about the guard again of course. He was looking at the woman beside him, and he didn't know why. "Dance with me, won't you?" He put the goblet on a table before looking toward her, holding his hand out. "I need to get closer, get a better look. Care to actually do something, or do you want to just not do anything?"

[Anonymous]

Raspberry narrowed her eyes at the blonde stranger, not wanting to hear the bitter truth, but swallowing it down anyway. She had known – figured – that Kruppoh would attract attention (both good and bad) but the fact that this stranger had found it relevant to point this out to her was more than embarrassing. Her cheeks flushed, and she could not help but feel a twinge of humiliation, but still, kept her cool. It would not do well to throw a hissy fit here, not with Kruppoh preening innocently on her shoulder. She still had to keep up appearances, after all.

"I can feel them, of course – their eyes on me," she related slowly, her voice still in that girly, bubblegum soprano. It was not an act, it was her real voice – delicate, but inflexible, and not the voice one might imagine an informant should have. It was a great tool, for wheeling information out of those who didn't know any better, but right now, she loathed it. Her voice only made her feel smaller, in front of this strange man who suddenly felt it appropriate to let her know that she was stupid for bringing a bird to the party. "Watching is only watching – they've done nothing... yet. I would've dealt with the consequences as they came." She was sure of it.  

Kruppoh, sensing that he was being talked about, puffed up his feathers and ducked his head into Raspberry's glass of wine once more, draining the glass. The informant frowned, and set the glass on a waiter's empty silver tray, who came by to collect empty stray glasses. The stranger spoke – of the mages, and how only the informants cared about their whereabouts – to which Raspberry shook her head, her voice slightly bitter. "They should be lucky anyone cares about them at all." She held a passive resentment for sorcerers – it was not something that overtook her constantly, but every now and then, she'd remember that she turned into the person she was today because of a mage, and wondered if she should hate them because of it or not.

He held out his hand to her, offering her a dance, to which Raspberry smiled. She took his head, not hesitating in the least, knowing when to best seize an opportunity as it came. "Why, of course," she accepted, and bit her lip slightly, thinking – about the guard, who had been watching her. Before, him pointing out the eyes that had been following her was annoying, but now, she wondered if she really had ended up being some sort of target. "What do you think the guard's plotting?" she wondered, shuddering. Now that the stranger had brought it up, she really could feel the guard's eyes on her. She smirked a little, and joked, "Are you sure he's not just watching me because I look good?" Haha, she thought – but the joke did not ease her shaky nerves, not in the slightest.

She could not mess this up. The Director was counting on her.

[Anonymous]

He was of course, just doing this for fun really. Teasing her about her bird was amusing to him. At first he hadn't been getting a rise out of her, but now as she blushed hotly...oh that was divine. He so loved it when he could get someone to be annoyed like that. She looked good with red staining her cheek...perhaps if he was smooth enough he'd get to see her with a bit more of her skin flushed like that.

He'd have to see how the evening progressed.

"It's both flattering and annoying isn't it? Every little spot on your body just...up for review. Could drive a person mad." Personally he revelled in the attention. He had a good body anyway, so he didn't mind if someone decided to spy it...heh...that was a good one. She had a rather bright voice didn't she? It was rather...odd but...some people were just that way. It really took away from her danger factor though.

"Oh my, that sounded positively bitter." Saladin took to looking at her very carefully. Why. Here she was, working, trying to find out information...but she hated them? Why. She didn't appear to be cursed, she didn't appear to have any weird marks or flaws that would account for being cursed or attacked by magic, and she certainly didn't seem to have any inhuman qualities bestowed upon her. Something was wrong here wasn't it? But what? What had made this young woman so bitter? Now she was definitely more intriguing, and he would have to find out why she had suddenly taken on that position.

At least she was willing to help instead of hinder. Unless this was her odd plan for hindering. He'd have to watch himself carefully. "Good, this night is turning out better and better. Now if only I could convince you that sharing my bed would help." He was charming, and even as he said that he had a rather charming smile on his face as he glanced at her before chucking. "I don't know for sure. But there is just something all off about him." He led her about the dance floor, and though looking at her for the most part, his eyes would flick and dance around to see the guard. Still watching. Saladin could see his eyes following her. "This is more than just a lustful obsession. This is...something else entirely." As they got closer to the guard, he swore he could have the man sneer for just a moment. As quickly as it was there though, it disappeared, and he led his beautiful dance partner away from him.

"I can't believe I didn't notice it. The crest on his pauldron is upside down." He looked toward Raspberry very carefully. "And if he's watching you, and he's not supposed to be here...that means you are a target." But why? What was so special about her. This a place for kidnappers, lesser nobles, thieves and spies...the man was not a lesser noble, his intense focus on her didn't make him a thief or a spy...there were much better dressed opponents here that had flashier jewellery...so that made him a kidnapper. But why her?

"Why does he want to kidnap you? You're not...magical are you?" He could never tell for sure with a lot of people...but as he touched her there was a strange energy. Something...pulling on her? It was impossible to say for sure but it felt as if energy was being both sucked into her, and pushed out of her. Very intriguing.

[Anonymous]

She remembered, quite some time ago, how the Director had taught her how to dance, just for occasions like this. You need to be graceful, Wasp, he had scolded her gently – for despite her lithe body, back then, she was still ugly on the inside. Since then, she had been chiseled down some, and her rough edges had been disposed of – she was all lady, all gentleness and softness, and there was nothing left of the abrasive, unladylike woman she used to be. Or at least, that's what she dearly hoped and prayed for, but one could never be too sure. Sometimes, the informant thought it was impossible, to completely change your whole state of being,

It was true – she did hate feeling the prying eyes of people staring at her, but she hadn't been aware of it until he had gone and brought it up. Blast – and she thought she had been doing so well too, but the reality of the situation was that, things were probably better off, now that she had found the second informant. She was pretty sure that he was not the informant that the Director had known was going to be here – but funnily enough, she did not matter. With another set of eyes and ears here, both working toward the same purpose, Raspberry couldn't help but feel a little more at ease. Not extremely so, mind, but it felt like she could breathe without having a heavy weight on her chest.

"Their stares are nothing but an annoyance," she confessed. "Devoid of any flattery." It was, perhaps, irony at its finest – the girl who sold her soul to become beautiful did not wish to be stared at. How typical of a woman, the Director would say, if he were here, or if he would answer the damn connection.

She looked up at her partner, who seemed all smiles and charm – despite how much of an annoyance he had been before. At least he had dropped the subject on Kruppoh – she wasn't sure how long she'd be able to keep her cool if he kept bringing up how her decision to bring the bird was silly and neglectful. In fact, he actually seemed charming, as he accepted her hand and brought her to dance. Of course, he had to ruin it, and joked about convincing her to share his bed. "I'm sure that wouldn't take a lot of convincing," she teased, and smiled, despite her feelings contrary to the quip. The sad part of her situation was that she would quickly share his bed if she thought it would help in the slightest – in reality, she hadn't been lying. For once.

As she waltzed with the stranger on the dance floor, she couldn't help but bite her lip in worry – at his words, at the guard's sneer, that lasted for a fleeting moment, before fading away as quickly as it had come. He looked to her, the stranger, and asked if she was magical, to which Raspberry frowned, conflicted. Apparently, she was a target – if the stranger was correct in his assumption – and it was probably because he could read the magical energy that Showan Lock was emitting. Stupid, stupid! She had hid the thing, but had failed to block any magical waves it would blindly emit. Damned thing! Damned Director! And damn Kruppoh too, while she was damning things – for the bird was pecking at strands of her hair now, apparently bored. She shrugged her shoulders, a gesture done to shake the bird away from her hair, and held her breath, wondering how to tell the truth without telling too much of the truth.

"Yes... and no," she confessed. Really, this man was a total stranger – there was a limit to how much she could say about Showan Lock. Her voice grew very quiet – still dainty and delicate. Damn this voice – making her sound like a schoolgirl divulging a secret to her teacher.... "Magic powers my being, in a way, but I can't control magic of any sort. You won't see me casting spells and muttering incantations just yet." Again, there slipped in some bitterness. "It may be very easy to assume that I'm magical, though. I suppose my aura would look... just like a mage's..."

Goddamnit. She hadn't even thought of that.

[Anonymous]

He had been self taught. Mostly. He watched parties for a lot of his life, watching people as they moved and danced, and was able to mimic it to a rather fine degree. It was easy really, he found dancing to be one of the easier skills to pick up. It was a necessary thing to have though, all things considered. If you wanted to move with royalty, you had to...well move like royalty. Dancing in this realm was nice...lots of closeness, lots of bodies pressed near each other, so it was a sensual thing really. He couldn't get enough of that. It used to be he could only see the world...and see some people...but now he could actually touch, smell, hear, and see them.

He supposed he could taste them but that was a whole different thing.

Saladin wouldn't deny that he was enjoying teasing and taunting this poor woman. She was different, she felt different, everything about her was different. He liked that, and at the same time, he had to know about her. He had to find out what made her tick and what he might be able to use against her. There was no telling when a friend could be an enemy, and in the heat of a battle, the best thing to do was to keep your focus and ruin your opponent's focus.

"I wouldn't say devoid. Their stares are out of abject desire and lust. That has to count for some flattery. I guess it all depends on how hard you worked to keep your body in shape." If you actually put time and effort into keeping a figure, a proper figure and your muscles, then looks from people would be...flattering.

His eyes darted to hers as she spoke for a moment, a look of surprise almost sweeping across his face. "A noble girl like yourself wanting to take part in primal debauchery with a rogue like myself? Sounds like it would take a lot convincing really." Play her up, that was the key. He didn't know her powers, he didn't know her abilities, but if he made it seem like he was nothing and she was everything...well that usually worked. Then again she wasn't some vapid nobleman's daughter looking to anger Daddy. She was something very different, and he had to be careful. Sleeping with her would probably be a bad idea, considering she might just end up with all his valuable.

The frown only made to affirm his assumption. There was some magic going on here then...something to do with her. But what? She wouldn't speak the whole story would she? No, that was not first date material. That usually came a little bit after. Sometimes just before the wedding right? 'Oh hey forgot to mention I'm actually a demon keeping a human appearance. Surprise!' Not the best sort of thing to surprise on someone. As Raspberry spoke he kept an eye on the guard as he waltzed her away from him, his ears listening on her however. The bitterness of her voice was very strange and he had to wonder about that...but it was none of his business at this time he supposed.

If they worked together, he'd have to know. She would be a risk and a liability to his person and to any plan that involved sneaking around people that could sense magic. "Can you hide it?"

[Anonymous]

Desire, lust, and flattery, he said – their stares should mean something to her. In reality, all their stares did was remind Raspberry that what they stared at was nothing but a magical illusion, one that cloaked the ugly soul she could never be rid of, that lay forever inside her. It took absolutely no work for her to keep her body in shape – she could gorge herself on cookies and ice cream all day and she would still look the same, still weigh the same... Hell, her body didn't even need nutrients to keep functioning – all it needed was Showan Lock, working hard to keep her beautiful twenty four seven. All she had to do was sacrifice her life source to do it. One day, it'd be the death of her.

So she said nothing, but only frowned, shaking her head. Instead, she worked to keep up with his swift movements across the dance floor, to make them seem natural, graceful. It was one thing, to be beautiful, but grace was something she had actually worked hard to pull off. Many dance lessons with the Director were finally paying off, for she looked – or at least, hoped she looked – like a natural on the dance floor. To be an informant, and to be female, meant that one had to use up their ladylike charm wisely, even the only other company she was looking to get information from was another informant himself. She wanted to know more about him, and his stance on this whole ordeal really, but if Raspberry was anything, she was patient, and enduring.

She laughed a little, softly, at his look of surprise, shaking her head. Did he call her noble? Her, noble, really? Quite honestly, Raspberry was as low as they came, was she not? She was naught girl who had wanted nothing more to be beautiful, and ended up spending the rest of her life as a chameleon, blending into the crowds.... But, if she could pull off 'noble' then she'd take what she could get. Either she was doing a bang-up job tonight, or he was pulling her leg... (He was probably pulling her leg, now that she thought more of it.) Still, she took his complement with ease. "It wouldn't – not really," she assured, smiling. "Maybe all one has to do is ask, and say please – 'with sugar on top?'" To think that he wasn'u playing a game with her would be foolish, but Raspberry had been playing this game for as long as she was beautiful. She wasn't about to trip up now.

Ah, and here they were – back to this mysterious man, who somehow knew she was magical, or at least, powered by magic. Could she hide it, he wanted to know, and Raspberry wanted to bit her lip in thought, but didn't. Could she hide Showan Lock's magical output? Well, she could do a system shutdown – but that would only turn off the function that acted as her second brain, and acted as a form of mental communication between her and the Director. But the Director wasn't responding, and while she did rely on the Lock to memorize more trivial things, she could do without it for one night, couldn't she?

Raspberry nodded, and relaxed her left arm, willing Showan Lock to shutdown. It did, and her arm was no longer warm, but the Lock was still pumping magical energy into her arm. However, the second brain function and communicator used more magic than the Lock did when it was sucking her life energy away. It was in 'cloaking' mode now, but it would turn on again if the Director decided that he wanted to speak with her, for whatever reason. Then, it would turn on in a heartbeat – but for now, her magical energy should be hidden. Unless the man actually was familiar with a Showan Lock, he should no longer be able to sense it fueling her being.

"I've hidden it, for the most part," she assured, after she was sure it had shut down. "There is a chance that the cloak might randomly turn off and on again – but the odds of that happening are slim." The Director just didn't care about her tonight, for whatever reason – and Raspberry hoped it would stay that way.

[Anonymous]

Well, even after he had paid her such a compliment he found something completely different coming from her. It was as if he had said something wrong. That couldn't be though, he had paid her a very nice compliment. Instead she frowned as if it wasn't that at all. How curious. Could this have to do with the fact that magic 'powered her being', whatever that meant? Again, another one of those possibilities he'd have to take into account right? This was all so bothersome though. All this magic and spying, one part fun, and one part dreariness.

At least she could dance.

As they fluidly and gracefully moved along the dance floor, he could only hope that he'd be able to find himself in more adventures that had this involved in it. What a fun dance this was, both the literal one, and the metaphorical one. He liked the act, he liked the flirting, he liked the connection between them, and he wondered why his hands felt as if tiny bits of electricity were on his fingertips when he touched her. That must have been the magic that she spoke of, but how interesting it was to feel.

It might just have been the spark between two people of course. Not that he believed the two of them soul mates or any such nonsense, but the universe knew when two people worked perfectly together, and it could have just been something like that. He'd have to see her in action first though, to see how good she really was. Saladin did want to make a good impression, and the only thing he could think of that would really knock her off her feet (Besides slipping upon the dance floor) would be to steal that bird from her shoulder without her knowing it.

That however, might be a little bit of a challenge, and he would decline for the time being.

"Oh ho, is that all? The only thing I really want on top however is you. Then to be on top. Then to be behind you...then maybe in front, and if you haven't been worn out, maybe on top once more." Things had turned a particularly odd direction, he would admit, but he was no nobleman, and she was no noble lady, so perhaps a bit of crassness wouldn't be too abject. Of course, one that could spar with wit and tongue always won out didn't it. "That however, can always wait. We'll have to finish this dance before starting a new one." There it was, much better. Much cleverer too. A woman like Raspberry must appreciate a good play on words right, a bit of cleverness and cheekiness all rolled into one.

He gave a small nod as he led her back toward the guard. The man had a distinct look on his face. It was annoyance and arrogance, but there was confusion on his face as far as Saladin could see. "That must throw him for a loop." The informant said behind nearly still lips, his voice however sounding more like it was near her ear. "Back away now. More witty and charming banter to enjoy from me." He twirled the woman in his arms, a grin playing upon his face as he stepped with her away from the guard.

"He still knows you have magic though, so we must be ever vigilant...but I don't see that as much trouble. He is probably just a small time thug after all with a gift for aura sight. Best if we switch your clothes soon." Saladin commented, though his hand suddenly ran its way down her back across her bottom. "Which means we'll have to get you out of them. Good thing I can steal just about anything."

[Anonymous]

The information game was all about staying on your toes. If, for some reason, something should surprise you on the job, then you had best learn to act as if nothing surprised you at all. With that said, to be honest, Raspberry had not expected the conversation to become so uncouth, but her expression, of course, showed nothing. If anything, legitimately laughed a little at his crass suggestion – it had been so out there, so unexpected, that she couldn't help it. Thankfully, the laugh was light, like bell chimes – it was probably one of the few things she had done tonight that wasn't contrived and fake.

 "Someone has quite a colorful imagination, when it comes to such... endeavors," she quipped with a smirk. "But, I agree – let's take things one step at a time, Romeo. We shouldn't get ahead of ourselves." It was only then that she realized that she didn't know his name – but that was normal, given her situation, given her profession, given the task at hand. After all, what was a name, for someone who couldn't even remember the one she had been given at birth? She wouldn't ask it – because, if he was like her, an informant, he would probably give a fake one. And she would give a fake one in return, despite the fact that they were playing for the same team, working toward the same goal. The Director had told her to trust no one, even if they wore the same colors as you.

It was a relief, to know that powering down Showan Lock had managed to hide her magical aura somewhat. Raspberry never had a problem with such a thing before – and had never even thought about the aura that the stupid device gave off. She made a note to think about powering it down for future missions involving the mages in the future, and was glad that she had managed to dodge a bullet. As frank as this man had been before – first about Kruppoh (who appeared to be bored now, as all this dancing was making him dizzy) and then about the lock – he had been more helpful to her than the informant would've liked to admit...

She raised an eyebrow though, as he called the man who had been watching her some 'small time thug.' Raspberry glanced back over towards him quickly, realizing that he really didn't seem like much, once you got a good look at him. She had her worried – about a small time thug? Honestly...

He was right, of course – despite her cloak, the mysterious man still knew that she had magic. She hadn't thought to bring spares, though, but she was sure that she'd be able to come up with something. They were in the home of a viscountess after all – and Raspberry was known for being resourceful. So lost in thought was she that she didn't even notice him sliding his hand towards her bottom until he had spoken once again. Ah, he was a touchy-feely one. Raspberry shook her head, smirking at him. "Oh, really?" she bantered, lowering her voice. "So you're an informant, a womanizer, and a thief? What a busy schedule you must keep..."

The 'womanizer' bit was thrown in there by jest, but as she said it, she took hold of his wandering hand and placed it back on her waist. The man was proving to be a distraction, more than anything else. He was graceful, poised, and spun her around the dance floor with ease, as if he had grown up doing such things. There was no stiffness to his movements – his stride seemed natural, at ease. Gathering her bearings, Raspberry bit her lip, sneaking another glance at the 'thug.' "Should we be more concerned – about that strange man?" she asked. "Small dogs normally travel in packs, after all."

[Anonymous]

He had to admit, despite everything, she kept her ladylike manner didn't she? Saladin wasn't a bad person, he was a hedonist of course, he wouldn't deny that. He liked the pleasures of the flesh, and he wasn't afraid to announce that. This girl was cute, she was a charmer, she had a laugh that could make a man's spine shiver and her personality was something...wonderful really. She had charm and wit, she had a tongue like a whip and a mind sharper than that. Pity she was all business...and had nothing too interesting to steal. Though maybe he'd try his best and nab something of hers. Take a shoe or maybe her breast band, if she was wearing one.

He had yet to try and be that bold...but he was a great thief.

"Romeo?" He asked, slightly bewildered. That was a name he hadn't heard before. "Saladin. Saladin Casideus actually. Liberator of personal possessions, delver of devilishly divine secrets, and enchanting rogue, at your...pleasure." A charming and disarming smile was upon his face as he locked eyes with her. He even gave her his real name, which was fine really, not a lot of people knew who he was, as he didn't often just...leave a little card with his name on it when he went somewhere.

That'd be silly.

He had to keep on his toes around her didn't she? This woman was very different and very strange. She was magic but not magic, she had some sort of power, and her life force was affected in some way. She wanted to help the mages, but at the same time she had a very...strange attitude toward them. He however, seemed to have found some favour with her, even despite his more...uncouth ways.

He laughed a deep chuckle at her comment, shrugging his shoulders. "Idle hands are a thing to waste though. I have to find something to do with my deft, talented fingers." She didn't do anything, she didn't complain, she didn't fight his hand position at all. How interesting indeed. Though, she then moved his hand and he almost looked a little disappointed, and slid his hand back for a moment, as if completely by accident as they danced their way along the floor. "Just keep your eye on him. Wait for the serving girl with the short hair to go by. They either say...something to each other...or they brush hands together. Then she moves on to..." He twirled her about, her back against his chest now and one hand around her waist, the other still intertwined with her fingers. "Those nobles over there, to touch the man in the middle on his hand. I think they have a silent way of communicating." And their time of closeness was over, their bodies no longer pressed together as he twirled her way till they were once more face to face.

"I know it's hard, but try not to keep your eyes on me the whole time, or you'll miss the whole ball."

[Anonymous]

His name sounded so legitimate that it could almost be... real. But that would be silly – why would this man ever give out his real name to her, at this masquerade, where everyone hid behind carefully constructed lies? And that was it – the name had to be a lie. To even think, for a split second, that he would bother to say his real name aloud would be weakness. She had to be careful, she knew – of his charm, and of his wit – if she wasn't cautious, perhaps he'd send her tumbling down the wrong path. So she remembered her barriers, reminding herself that she was playing a game, after all, no matter how charming this man could be.

If Showan Lock was turned on, maybe she could've read his emotions at the time he had given his name, to figure out if it was a real identity or not. But then again, what was a 'real' indentity? Was it something that you put on official papers or documents? Was it something all your friends and comrades knew you by? Her 'true' name – Raspberry Wasp – it was a joke, if anything, an alias given to her because she didn't know her real name. It didn't sound real because it wasn't, the Director had just found it funny, was all. Raspberry, for the color of her hair, Wasp for her hivemind mentality. It wasn't a real name. It was a goddamn disgrace.

"A pleasure? I would say it's been a delight to meet you, Saladin," she returned after a beat, smiling. "Although – I'd beg you to refrain from 'liberating' me of my own personal possessions, if you would." Another joke – but she didn't have anything on her worth steal, anyway. Kruppoh might've been a rare breed of bird, but his parrot-like abilities weren't enough to make him something worth stealing, would it? And then there was the Lock, hidden by the sprawling rose corsage that was strapped to her left arm – but that couldn't come off her arm anyway. Hell, it'd be great if he could find  a way to steal Showan Lock away from her – all of her problems would be solved, all in one night.

He didn't ask for her name, but it would be rude not to give it. "Delilah Rosewenth, at your service. I'm but a seeker of information – and nothing more." That last part was probably one of the truest things she had said all night. Despite her affiliations, at the end of the day, her hunt for information had morphed into something she lived for - the only thing that kept her running. While she had been thinking of a surname, she found that his hands had wandered to her bottom once more, but she recognized defeat – he would probably just keep returning it there no matter what she did. She smiled in exasperation, shaking her head.

Idle hands were a thing to waste, but she knew a euphemism when she saw it. "Oh?" she asked, tilting her head. "I can think of a few good things you could use them on." She had been playing this game for so long that she said things just to see how far she could push things, to see how long banter would be banter, or if it would evolve into something else. She had learned that people opened up to your more (usually) after you had managed to crawl in their bed.

He was twirling her around the dance for now, that she had to be quiet for a bit, so her feet could keep up with her movements. Despite all of her lessons, this was one of the first time she had applied her knowledge to reality. He, however, was obviously used to this sort of thing, and it was almost dizzying, to be spun around so expertly, in the arms of someone who knew what they were doing. As he brought them close, face to face, she laughed, raising an eyebrow.

"No need to worry about me, I'm as vigilant as ever," Raspberry assured, wrinkling her nose in mock annoyance. She laughed, obviously amused. "It's you I'm worried about. How can you dance with a girl like me in your arms, and still keep focused?" She tossed her hair over her shoulder, giving him a coquette's smile. "It's near impossible, I'd say." Despite her words, she did find it hard to keep her eyes on the ball... She ran his words over in her head again, recalling the 'thug,' the girl with the short hair, the man...

"They're being very subtle about their communication – I'd say they have more organization than small time thugs," Raspberry noted softly. She was always someone who would rather overestimate the enemy than underestimate them. "All of them have upside down crests, as well. They're not all in obvious places, like our first man.... but they're visible enough." It was an incredibly small detail, one that she wouldn't have noticed if Saladin hadn't point out the first man in the first place.

[Anonymous]

There was no need for fake names here. No one really knew who he was in the end after all! He never gave his name to people he robbed, to people that he stole from and took from. Besides, he was a creature from a whole different world, the rules didn't apply to him anymore. He was different, he would call himself special of course, and that must have been the case. Besides, he didn't believe in all that strange 'Old World' power. Granted he was a man who could walk through walls by entering a different world but...that was something else wasn't it?

"I can't promise you anything, but I'll try...I've got to keep my hands busy after all." That was just what his hands were doing! The dancing was nice, but copping a couple of feels was actually quite a lot better. Of course, he would rather be doing something a little more productive...but she didn't have any sort jewellery. There was nothing really sparkling and shining to take...the corsage was nice but...it was flowers. He couldn't sell flowers. Well he probably could but...they'd have to be fresh.

Saladin only smiled slightly as she introduced herself finally. "I'm not sure if I should call you on that name." There was no real reason to trust this woman after all. He knew what she was, and he knew what she was after in the end of things. There was no real reason to believe her, and the name was wrong. It sounded wrong. Even as he repeated it in his mind he just...knew it was the wrong name for her. "But if that's what you want me to know you as...no...I don't really want to know you as Delilah."

At least she seemed to know that there was no use fighting his busy hands!

He laughed a quiet little chuckle at her comment, rather amused now. This was almost a lot more fun than stealing! Charming and witty banter with this woman was better actually. He rather did like this whole set up actually. "Well if you like my hands, then you'd love my silver tongue." He winked to her, absolute delight and playfulness in his eyes. Why couldn't more of his jobs end up like this?

Why couldn't more of the people involved in his jobs be like her actually?

"I won't lie, it's quite difficult, but you're with a man of many talents." Again, there was another wink to go with that particular comment. Would he actually manage to bed her? No. He was sure of it. She probably didn't have a place nearby, and he definitely didn't, so where would they go? And a woman like this was not a common whore you could take to the street or into an alley. No no...she was one who would need a proper bed, and he did too.

He nodded slightly. "The man has one on his ring. It's a nobleman's ring, but it's upside down, same crest as the guard." It was really an interesting mixture wasn't it? It was subtle enough that if you weren't looking for it then you wouldn't see it. What was the proper plan of attack here anyway? "I want to continue this..." He told her as he pressed her close against him, so close to him, his lips near her ear. "But how would you like to grab that guard with me? I can show you the world I came from."

[Anonymous]

He knew the name she had given was fake.

Her blood ran cold when he said it – that he didn't want to know her as Delilah. As usual, the expression she wore on her face was ever so natural, ever calm and collected, but her mind was racing. Did he just not want to call her Delilah, or... No, he definitely, somehow, knew her name was fake. But how? Could he just tell? She had been practicing the art of lying ever since the Director had taken her in, making people chug down her lies like water – she was supposed to be skilled at this sort of thing. In fact, this was probably the first time ever that Raspberry Wasp had ever been called out – even if he had been indirect about it.

She was... impressed. She would not admit it aloud, of course – that would bruise her ego beyond repair.

Raspberry smirked, tilting her head. "Oh? Does the name not suit your idea of me?" she asked, her voice still small in girly, forever an inescapable bubblegum soprano. "Wouldn't a rose, by any other name, smell just as sweet?" That was what the Director had told her anyway – he was forever a book of references to ideas she had never heard of, but she was sure she had just adapted this excuse to cover up for the fact that she had no true name, Raspberry was just something the Director had baptized her with. In the end, she was sure that it didn't matter what she was called. But if that were true, why did she hide her stupid name, Raspberry Wasp, from the world?

Despite being found out, he seemed to be in good spirits – but perhaps that was just because she wasn't struggling to stop him from copping a feel every now and then. She didn't mind, really – he was an attractive man, witty and charming, but every now and then, she had to remind herself not to get caught up. The occasional peck Kruppoh would give to her on her neck would remind her who she was – an informant, who couldn't risk her position because of a man. She had trusted a man once – and the next morning she had awoken to find a device latched on her arm that she couldn't remove.

He was still flirting with her, winking, the charming scoundrel. "A silver tongue? I don't believe it," she accused playful, pressing herself closer to him. "I might have to taste it for myself." More banter, of course, but she wasn't sure how much of it was contrived, and how much of it was real. Raspberry Wasp was someone who went where the tide took her. She adapted to her environment, a chameleon capable of imitating many colors, but this ability came with a cost – forcing her to wonder who she really was, at the end of the day. She found it strange how easily this banter came to her, how she came to like the man's playful winks and charm. But did she enjoy him? Or did she not mind because the chameleon inside her told her not to mind?

As he spun her around, she remembered – right, they had a job to do here. Observing the guards while spinning around on the dance floor would not get them very far, she was sure. As he pressed closer to her, his lips near her ear, her eyes widened a little, at his proclamation. Show her the world he came from? Was he really not from this world? She knew that other worlds existed – the Director was from a world far off from here – but besides him, she had never met another who was not from Le'raana. "I'd be honored," she replied finally, "I'm curious, so show me, what the world you called your home is like."

[Anonymous]

It wasn't hard. Delilah. That wasn't a name people would willingly give out, and the fact she said it so flawlessly gave it away as well. Plus, he just plain refused to believe that someone as beautiful as her would be called Delilah. She should have a proper name, something beautiful and feisty sounding perhaps. Something that would make people remember her. Delilah wasn't that name, but it was a good try! He'd give her that.

It was probably why some people thought Saladin was a fake name. You remembered such an odd name after all.

"While it would, the question is, would you want to still inhale the gentle fragrance of it?" That was the question wasn't it? If it was called the Rotten Swamp Excrement, many people weren't going to put their nose near it.  "Would you really want a man to show up to court you, carrying a dozen long stemmed....Dragon Excrement Gut Rotters? Or would you rather he have roses?" The roses would probably go over a lot better than the DEGR. Granted they would be the same flower but that wasn't here nor there right now.

"Oh would you now? Well it mustn't taste as good as your lips, with that sweet little voice of yours running over them all the time, must be like kissing sugar and honey." She was good too, he liked when he could flirt and it was taken in such a good way. The mission was always there, but this girl was taking up more and more of that focus. Not that he minded, he'd gotten enough to go on anyway...more than enough. Follow the crest, follow the path, find the leader, and bring them down. That was mostly the plan anyway, a very loose plan.

He grinned as she wanted to come with him. It wouldn't be much really, but it was his world after all. He began to move again with her. Step left, step right, step right, turn, step left, step left, turn, and...he stopped. But only because they were no longer in the extravagant ball room. They were in a different world...a strange world. The sky was visible, the ruins around them were very reminiscent of the place they had just came from...but everything was in shambles, broken down over time and ages. There was a strange unearthly green hue to everything as well. The sky above was that off green as well, but it bore no sun nor clouds in it.

"Welcome to my world." With much regret, he let go of her and stepped back so she could see where he had come from. "This is the Anthærlunds...where I hail from. Simply dreadful isn't it? That's why I came to your world...so full of colour and light and beauty. You even have night, which is...a far cry different from here." It had been a culture shock, first visiting the world from which his dance partner had come from...but he took to it incredibly quickly. How could he not? "Please forgive me for the mess though, it's just hard to get any cleaning done around here."

[Anonymous]

Raspberry had been sure that her argument would hold up, but Saladin had managed to refute her argument easily. No matter how sweet something may smell, she was sure that she wouldn't want to smell it if it was called... What had he used as an example? Dragon Excrement Gut Rotters. (How in the bloody hell had he come up with such a vulgar example?) She wrinkled her nose at the very sound of the name, and knew that she couldn't argue against such a statement. "...I suppose you have a point," she admitted begrudgingly, dealing a small bruise to her ego.

Really, the longer she stayed around this man, the more she was beginning to realize that she might have met her match. She was not sure if she liked having holes poked in her arguments, but she did like the fact that she was dealing with someone who would keep her on her toes. It seemed like, before tonight, she had waltzed through her assignments without even breaking a sweat. Now she was laughing, bantering, and actually enjoying herself. It was bizarre, to actually be able to enjoy herself on the Director's borrowed time – it almost felt a little sinful.

Maybe she would tell him her real name. Maybe. But he would have to earn it.

As he twirled them around the dance floor, Raspberry began to notice that, in a flash, that they were no longer in the viscountess' ballroom, but in... what appeared to be an entirely different world. As he pulled away from her, she blinked her steel blue eyes, hugging her arms around herself, as if she was cold, taking in this new scenery. She had been all around Le'raana, and she was certain that this was nowhere on the continent at the very least... But to think that, in just a flash, they had been able to go to his world... it was beyond bizarre.

He described his world as dreadful, but Raspberry paused before responding to him, looking up at the sky, and seeing that there was no sun, and no clouds. "It's not... dreadful, not really. Just... bizarre." She looked to him, hoping she hadn't hurt his feelings with her comment. This world, it seemed so... empty. "I always believed that my world was no good, and rotten to the core, but after coming here... Well, I'm a little more thankful for it." She laughed a little, realizing he was right. At least they had a night, a sun, color, and beauty. Perhaps she should not be so pessimistic about it, when she returned.

Kruppoh shifted uneasily on Raspberry's shoulder, spreading his wings and flapping them noisly, chirruping, "Kruppoh! Kruppoh!" Raspberry bopped the bird on its head with a finger, which silenced him, but he still seemed uneasy about their new environment. At his apology for the mess, Raspberry laughed. "I wouldn't expect anyone to keep a place so dismal clean," she offered. "But these ruins, they seem very... familiar. Or am I imagining things?" Why did  they seem so much like the place from which they came? Or perhaps that was just her head – fudging up little details...