[Log] Sihnon ball

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Lobby, Lu'Weng Majestic Hotel, Sihnon
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Architectural grace meets beauty aesthetics right here in the Lobby of the Lu'Weng Majestic. As the name suggests, majestic pillars of crystal rise from the marbled floor to the vaulted ceilings, which tower high above and are covered in mirrors to create the illusion of an even higher altitude. Tapestries line the walls, statues spot the floor, and music fills the air as a string quartet circulates their enchanting melodies at all times. In the center of the lobby a large circular desk offers manned reception for guests and customer service. High above this reception desk is a crystal chandelier made in two parts. The outer part, a large circle of crystals, rotates clockwise, while the inner circle rotates counter-clockwise; the result is a dance of fractured light on the walls, marble floor, and crystal columns. A grandiose staircase, the stairs draped in a red velvet-carpet, rise fluidly from the marble floor and take the guest into the upper level, where the guest rooms are located.
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This spacious room is large enough to hold hundreds of people. Towering pillars of crystal meet a ceiling of mirrors, the lights from a hovering chandelier - whose two parts rotate clockwise and counter-clockwise - reflect in the pillars and mirrors to dance and twinkle at every wall and empty stretch of floor. The soft music from a string quartet beautifully winds its way between the columns.
Scattered around the room are a number of low tables covered in white cloth, around them are placed large, red pillows for seating on the floor.
Trays of delicious foods - light food, for this is no dinner party - are set on the tables, and by every place lie a pair of chop-sticks and a knife and fork; providing each guest with the opportunity to choose.
By the entrance stands a subtly-dressed team of security officers, scanning every guest - without exception - for weapons.
Already servants walk the room with trays of drink, and offers it to the many guests - whether standing, or seated by the low tables.


From between two crystal pillars, a figure clad in aubergine silk emerges, her head turned to look back over a bare shoulder, her fingers slipping from someone's arm, brushing down to give their hand a small squeeze as a quiet laugh rises from her during a brief lull in the sounds of the festivities. The hand comes up as long, slender fingers lift and tuck a stray curl of strawberry blonde hair from her eyes and behind an ear. Making her way toward one of the servers close by, Sariah's lips part and curve into a warm smile as a glass is swept from the tray and held out in offering to her by the server.


Bess enters alone, stopping briefly by the security checkpoint to be scanned, but is waved through without incident. She's quick to snatch up a glass of white wine from a passing servant, then gives a look around the room with the expression of one who is used to these types of events; bored, yet looking suitably impressed at the room itself as well as the food laid out on the low tables.


And not very far from Sariah stands a couple; a tall and handsome man clad all in black, whose dark hair is combed back - and by his arm, is Sirah Thornby. The Companion is dressed in a red, indian gown; her hair woven with golden threads and an ankle-bangle tinkles faintly when she moves.
"Sariah," she smiles warmly at the other woman. "It is good to see you again."
Sirah steps aside to allow Bess picking up the white wine from the servant that just passes her by.



Intertwining her fingers within Lucinda's own, Iolanthe stops an attendant, taking a glass of champagne from the tray. She offers it to Lucinda, along with a warm smile.


Saienne enters the room with a quiet confidence. Nothing so elegant as any Companions who might be present, nor so self-assured as any from noble families, but with the poise and presence of someone who feels entirely comfortable in her own skin. She, like Bess, passes through the security check swiftly - but honestly, where in that clutch purse would there be room for anything offensive? - and moves towards one of the low tables, securing a thin, fluted glass of something bubbly from one of the waiters before she gets to the food.


Lucinda curls her fingers around the offered glass' delicate stem, raising it slightly towards Iolanthe in a silent thank you. The Doctor's gaze sweeps across the room, taking in the lavish appointments that only the Companion's guild could put so eloquently together. Afterall, its hard to pull of mirrored ceilings under normal circumstances.


Viktor does the usual thing by the security guards, having not a weapon on him, he saunters past them without a problem. He quickly moves to the side and starts to look around the room. Clearly having never laied eyes on somethign so grand Viktor is quite impressed, evident by the look of bewilderment on his face. All he manages to do is stand off to the side as people pass him and he slowly spins around taking in the whole room.


Iolanthe nods to Lucinda, taking a glass of her own. She offers her glass upward for a small toast, she whispers something to her softly, leaning inward, her lips just barely brushing the edge of her ear as she speaks.


Taking the glass, filled with red wine, Sariah gives her thanks to the server, her head canting as she hears her name and turns toward its source. In but a few steps, she closes the distance between herself and Sirah, leaning in to brush her lips lightly across the woman's cheek, her free hand coming up to touch her arm just above the elbow. "Sirah, it has been too long," she says in greeting, her gaze shifting to settle on the man at Sirah's side as her hand extends toward him and she introduces herself, "Sariah Estani."


Bess gives a nod to Sirah and lifts her glass in a small toast to the woman, as well as the others with her, then raises the glass to her lips to take a dainty little sip. She gives another look around the room, her eyes pausing for just a fraction of a moment on each person here and then she goes in search of a place to sit.


There is one figure here who appears less than impressed and less than pleased. He stands at the edge of the room, in the shadow of a pillar, and there is a glass in his hand that is just as full as when it was placed there.
Amid all the finery, Sander's garb is plain and plainer: white linen trousers and a collarless jacket of the same -- an old-fashioned jodhpuri suit, with a collarless shirt of bright blue underneath. Simple garb, but elegant enough for such an occasion.
And there he stands, his features studiously bland.



Lucinda smiles a touch more at Iolanthe's whispered words, reaching over to 'tink' her glass lightly against the one the Companion holds. "To a wonderful evening." Lu seems to repeat. She lifts her glass then, sipping delicately off of the bubbly.


"Much too long," smiles Sirah at Sariah and leans in to return the other's greeting in kind.
"Aeddan Zheng," the tall man by her side introduces himself. He takes Sariah's offered hand and bows over it with the utmost courtesy, a twinkle in his eye at the lady. "I am fortunate to be here with your friend this evening."
Sirah turns to the side and lifts her glass in a toast at Bess, returning her greeting with a smile. It would seem she has not yet noticed Sander by the pillar.



Viktor makes his way towards one of the people with trays and actually asks if he may have a glass, after reciving a slightly confused nod Vik takes a glass and thanks the man with the tray as he walks off. Not really knowing what else to do he walks around the outside of the room slowly circling around the guests.


Saienne settles down in a pool of crimson cloth on some of the cushions and rests an elbow on the low table. She sips from her glass, holding the delicate thing by its slender stem, and listens to the quartet playing as background music. She watches Lucinda for a moment as she and the Companion toast each other, a lop-sided smile blossoming briefly, and then her gaze moves on to spot more faces, both familiar and otherwise.


Beckett makes her own way into the room, and immediately steps out of the way of those moving at a faster pace. Apparently, she wants a moment to study things and get her bearings. It's when she catches sight of Saienne that a visible look of relief crosses her face, and it's in that direction she wanders. Someone she knows, thank God.


There's a sparkle in her eyes as Sariah makes a small, "Oh," sound at the man's introduction. "A relation of Aesil Zeng?" she asks, the stem of her glass slipping between two fingers as she cups it in her palm and holds it up between them, her gaze passing between Aeddan and Sirah before returning to the man. "I admit a certain fondness for the mulberry wine her family produces," before questioning with a tilt of her head, "Yours too, perhaps?"


Suddenly, the music turns from classic to Earth-That-Was Indian. A line of red-clad waiters appear, walking through the room and splitting up until each and every one of them stand by a table - and each and one of them carries a hookah in his hands.
The pipes -fitted with several tubes and mouth-pieces - are then placed, one at every table. A tray with tobacco is offered by the servant, the tasty choices being: Flower heads, Fruit, Strong tobacco, Vinegar tobacco, and finally Chili Strong.
The latter comes with a warning.



Taking a sip of her own, Iolanthe looks to Lucinda. She smiles warmly, a mischevous glint in her eyes. "I don't suppose you'd like to have a taste, would you?" she asks, looking to the various Hookah sets that are being set up.



He seems content to go unnoticed, to go unobserved, to go unattended, and Sander leans against the pillar as he takes a slow sip from his glass. His eyes close briefly. A faint smile touches his lips.
And when they open again, the hookahs arrive and he watches with some apprehension and no little bemusement.



Charley Wong limps carefully in, her weapons doubtlessly getting checked in at the reception, cos... well, it's the Core."


I've got all the major media players figured out :)"
Saienne's gaze roams the room a few moments more before it alights on the familiar blue-clad form standing just inside the threshhold. "Good gorram," she mutters, in a voice and tone almost entirely at odds with her appearance. She raises a hand in a wave and unfolds long legs to stand again, without spilling any of her drink. "Beckett," she calls across the distance between them. "Ain't it a tonic to see you." A pause, and she frowns slightly, crowsfeet wrinkling deeply. "An' why is it, do you reckon, that we keep meetin' at events such as this?"


Bess lifts her chin a little as the waiters enter and watches quietly as they start to settle Hookahs on the tables. She circles around and decides against sitting for now and moves with her wineglass to the edge of the room, finding a pillar to lean against. The very same pillar that Sander is leaning on. She raises her glass to him and gives him a quiet nod of greeting, then takes a sip and continues to watch the room.


Aeddan quirks a handsome smile at Sariah.
"I am afraid not. I do own several vineyard, but nothing like the Zeng family's Mulberry Wine. I can, however, provide any spaceship with peculiar, electronic cirquits, if you have one?"
A good-natured twinkle in the man's eye at this.



Lucinda looks to the Hookah's with a twist of contemplation to her lips. "Actually...I've never seen such a contraption." She moves takes a half step away from Io towards one of the tables. "You smoke tobacco with it?" She asks, curiously.


Beckett makes her way close enough to Saienne that she can talk without yelling, though even her indoor voice tends to carry, as folks have learned to their regret. "I got no gorram idea," she replies with amusement. "Here you'd think folks like us wouldn't come anywhere near these things, and yet we do. I reckon it's for the sheer hell'a somethin' different. Either that, or it's the only times our respective ships've been in the same place at the same time. Whaddya think?"


"If you're obeying all the laws in the Core, yes." Iolanthe replies to Lucinda, a twinkle in her eyes and a cryptic grin playing across her lips. She moves to follow Lucinda should she so desire to partake.



Charley Wong limps towards the others, giving a faint smile, "Hookahs, eh? Well, it's been a while, but yes... that might be quite nice."


Saienne waves a hand in a vague gesture of agreement, and sips from her drink again. "Well, I justify it to myself by sayin' I come to make contacts. Shindig such as this'll be full of potential clients, ain't it so?" She grins her crooked grin. "But as to the two of us bein' at the same parties -" A fluid shrug. "- well, I reckon you got the truth of it, ain't you? Our Grace an' your Dragon do seem to spend more time in opposite ends of the 'Verse than the same." She nods once, settling on that as an adequate explanation. "An' speakin' of such, how's Dora doin'?"


"A space ship?" Sariah asks as she laughs lightly, her eyes crinkling at the corners, betraying her mirth. "Oh no, whatever would I have or want a space ship for?" she asks, her gaze shifting to Sirah with a fleeting and curious look before it returns to the man at Sirah's side. "Forgive me my curiosity in asking the nature of said peculiarities?" she asks.


Lucinda lowers herself onto a cushion, holding a hand out for Iolanthe to join her. She's seemingly starting to relax, and another sip of champagne doesn't hurt. The doctor, for the most part, seems to envelope herself in the company of the Companion (that's what she's paying for, afterall) and seems a little blinded of the other goings on in the hall.


Sander's glass is raised in return, and he cocks a brow at Bess. A wan smile accompanies it. "A fine party," he says, though his words are a touch on the forced side. "No doubt. Quite fine."



Aesil Zeng is a little stiff and formal as she enters, moving through the crowd until she finds Charley once more.


Bess gives a smile at Sander and adds a light chuckle, nodding as she gives a look around. "Oh yes. Very fine," she says and leans a little closer to him, lowering her voice. "You know, you look about as bored as I feel." She gives him a wink, then raises her glass and takes another sip, her eyes twinkling at him over the rim of her glass.


Io accepts the proffered hand, and makes her way to the cushion alongside Lucinda, the index finger of her free hand idly tracing a seemingly random pattern at the base of the doctor's back as she sits next to her. Her bare feet jingle softly with the chains that decorate them as she pulls them beneath her. She positions her body so that Lucinda could lean against her if she desired.



"Bits and pieces, electronic circuits that go into the consoles," Aeddan says to Sariah. "I admit," he smiles wryly, "I am not an expert on the details. I just run the damn business." Aeddan flicks a piercing, blue gaze to his side, where Sirah squeezes his arm, and - after he nods - detaches herself and crosses the floor towards the pillar where Sander tries to stand unnoticed and unattended - and now in the company of Bess.



Beckett chuckles at Saienne, and nods. "Yeah, I reckon I ain't here to make too many friends, seein' as how I ain't the Dragon's spokesgirl. But hey, if this is what I gotta put up with to see friendly faces who ain't crew, fine enough. It's a real nice-lookin' thing they got here." She adds, "Dora ain't doin' too badly either. You know her, she's always a ray of sunshine."


Charley Wong limps over, and accepting a glass of wine, sinks down onto a cushion next to the hookahs, with a distinct wince.


"Bored?" asks Sander with a sudden, interested glance at his glass. It smells of wine. No doubt it is. His lips press into a tight line. "I couldn't say I feel bored," he answers finally, slowly. "This just isn't...my kind of party." His words are dry as the wine.



"Do you enjoy the business you are running or merely the running of the business?" Sariah asks of the man she's speaking with, her head turning with a smile as Sirah detaches herself from his company and walks away. Looking back to him, she raises her glass to her lips, regarding him with a questioning look as she sips from the red wine within.


Bess tilts her head a bit, some hair falling into her face, which she moves aside with an irritated move of her hand. "No?" she says and gives the man a look up and down, then nods slowly. "No, I don't suppose it is..." She motions toward the tables and sees Sirah coming their way and gives her a nod in the process. "Why not try the food or the smoke?"


"Always one, ain't there?" Saienne smiles her crooked smile and nods back at Beckett, thinking of Dora. "Relentlessly cheerful." She finishes her drink and stoops to place the empty glass on one of the low tables, watching as a hookah and a tray of tobacco is placed nearby. She frowns at it slightly. "Ain't entirely sure I fancy the sound of vinegar or chilli tobacco..." A pause. "Sounds like a real good way to induce a headache."


"Definitely the latter." Aeddan regards Sariah with those cool, blue eyes. "I am not a hands-on person, I leave that to the technical staff... and my secretaries," he says with a lazy smile.
"Yes, why not try the food or the smoke?" Sirah tilts her head and smiles at Bess as she comes to a halt, the soft tinkling slowly fades away.
"Sander," she turns a fond, green-eyed look at the man. "I am so glad you could come. I will not deprive you of your beautiful company," a glance to the other woman, "but I just wanted to greet you proper."



Aesil Zeng takes a glass of wine, and drifts a little away from Charley and the hookah, surveying the refreshments proived.


Lucinda is seated on a cushion with Iolanthe, the two talking quietly and each sipping occassionally from a glass of Champangne. The pair sit closely, Lu's hand seemingly on the Companion's knee and Iolanthe's folded atop that.


Charley Wong takes up the hookah cord, and inhales, with another slight wince, before letting out a little rose scented smoke from her nose and lips. "Ahhh... there's nothing _quite_ like it."


"I've no stomach for rich foods," Sander replies gamely, and his words are a touch chillier when Sirah joins the conversation, "And prefer not to mix smoke and wine. I'm here to observe, Sirah," he adds pointedly. "It doesn't mean I have to..."
To do what? A waved hand indicates the luxury of the room: the music, the dancing, the smoking, the general ostentatious cheer.
"But I won't stop others," he adds to Bess. "I'm sure it's...delightful."



The glass lowers from her lips, the corners curled up in a smile to mirror Aeddan's as Sariah asks, "Would you rather have a space ship of your own?" As smoke twines through the air, the scent tickling her nose, she draws a short breath and then another, deeper one before she turns her head and dips her chin in a nod toward the closest Hookah, asking of him, "Do you?" and looks back to Aeddan.


"Ahhh. Sander," Bess says with a smile and bows her head to the man, then swipes away a stray hair again, giving Sirah a somewhat surprised look. Beautiful? She grins a little, then turns back to Sander and gives a little shake of her head. "I've forgotten my manners. My name's Bess." She looks between the two and raises her brows, but falls silent at Sander's rather chilly tone. "But if you'd rather be alone, I'm sure I can find another place to lean. Have fun observing, then, Sander," she says and pushes off the pillar, giving him a nod, then turns to Sirah with another, more apologetic nod. "If you'll excuse me, miss."


Beckett eyes the tobacco as well, dubiously. "Never did pick up a taste for that sorta thing anyway," she allows. "The flavors don't exactly get me too excited." She grins at Saienne. "If I gotta have a vice, I'll stick to drinkin' and cursin' and gamblin'."


Arriving fashionably late and making the bold statement of presenting herself unescorted, Josephine passes easily through the security scan only to pause all at once, lifting a wide-eyed gaze to behold the spacious, glittering elegance that is suddenly before her. The small woman seems astounded, or at least amazed to the degree that she does not step any further into the room, not for a long while. She studies the dazzling chandelier, the varied attire of the guests, the assortment of food, the sheer decadence... And then, she closes her eyes to breathe in the pure, sweet music from the string quartet.


Iolanthe speaks softly with Lucinda, giving the other woman a small wink when she finishes her portion of the conversation.



"Even if you are here to observe, it would not harm you to eat," says Sirah, wrinkling her nose at Sander. "But I suppose we should all be grateful it is not raining fire and brimstone... yet."
Her words are light, but the words sarcastic - and then, even then, there is a warm sparkle to her eyes. Though it fades somewhat at Bess' words.
"I do not believe this," she quips. "You just chased your company away! Come, now," she turns to Bess with a warm smile. "He is not that bad. Really. Once you get to know him. Not always, at least."



"I rather didn't mean--" Sander's words follow Bess as she pushes off from the pillar, but he gives up on them with a frown.
"Not /yet/," he says pointedly to Sirah as he pushes himself away from the pillar. "But it may pour on me if I stay longer. I came. I saw. Now I'm going -- have fun, Sirry. And--" He pauses as he passes Bess, and offers her the faintest of smiles. "Another time, it would be a pleasure. Really."
And with that, he disappears into the crowd.



"Ah, yes. I do," Aeddan nods at Sariah. "I prefer to have others fly my spaceships for me. I can fly it, but I rarely find it necessary. Now, if you will excuse me, lady, I think I will go and find my date for the evening."
And with a bow and a smile at the woman, he leaves.



Viktor meanders past one of the low tables and picks up some finger food. He tries a little of this and a little of that. One of the things he bites into causes him to almost spit it up. Seeing as how 'fancy' this whole thing is he grabs a napkin and spits the stuff into the napkin and pockets it. Deciding that he dind't like that he moves on to the other side of the room taking in all the shights not quite sure who is who or what.


Bess sighs, giving a glance toward the exit and seeing a known face enter, then looks back to Sirah and Sander and shakes her head slightly as the man takes his leave. "Well... Didn't think I was all /that/ horrible in social situations as to chase away the men," she says to Sirah with a corner of her mouth curling upward. "I gather that you know him from elsewhere?"


"That, ma'am, makes three vices - not one." She regards Beckett from beneath the tilted brim of her feather-bedecked hat. Her dark eyes are warm, and her expression is pleasant. "But while I may think claimin' three is somewhat greedy, I reckon I can relate to those choices nonetheless. More than I can to chilli tobacco anyhow." Viktor's incident with the party food and the napkin causes her grin to broaden. "Beckett, I reckon we ain't the only fish out of water in here," she says, looking in the man's direction.


Charley Wong takes a sip of her champagne, and then asks Aesil, quietly, "Anyone you know here?"


Aesil Zeng drifts along the finger plates, and helps herself to a selection. Unlike the man before her, she seems to recognise everything on the tables, greeting someone with a smile of delight.


Sirah sighs, and gives her green eyes a brief, skywards roll.
"Sander is hopeless in situations such as this. And no, it had nothing to do with you," humour sparkles in her eyes at the other's quip. "Do not take it seriously, as a Preacher he is less than comfortable at parties. I am only glad that he showed up. And yes," she smiles at Bess. "He is my brother."



Beckett laughs, nodding to Saienne in reply. "No kiddin'. Companions throw a party, and what do they get? Spacers. We can smell free food and drinks from three world away. Like roaches." She grins, broadly, and adds, "And who says I only got three vices? Get to know me, I'm chock-full of bad habits. Gives me character. She snags a passing drink when the opportunity arises, and takes a sip.


Aesil Zeng shakes her head, slowly as she scans the room.."I don't..oh! There's Josephine..."


Bess ahs and gives a knowning kind of nod at the revelation that Sander is a Preacher. "Well, he looked a bit lost, and I'm here alone, so.." She gives a shrug and looks into the remains of her wine for a moment, then back at Sirah with a smile. "I just thought I'd keep him company, is all. You'll give him my apologies if I made him uncomfortable, will you? I wasn't hitting on him or anything."


Josephine takes a slow, deep breath, opening her eyes as once song melds into the next. Then, with her red silk gown flowing elegantly at her feet, she makes a slow, intentional circuit around the entire room, to see what there is to be seen and to greet those whom she knows. Truth be told, the woman does seem to have a warm smile for just about anyone who looks her way.


"Oh, I will be sure to let him know what you said," says Sirah with a warm voice at Bess. A flick of her glance at the doorway might indicate that Sander will, indeed, hear more of what happened tonight.
And it is with that flick of the eyes that the Companion catches sight of Josephine. A smile is sent in return to the other woman.



Charley Wong takes another toke of the hookah, and suggests to Aesil, "So, invite her over, yeah?"


Viktor's not quite sure where he can stand and not be in someones way so he wanders towards the pillers and stands between them. He's quite clearly having fun as evedent by the expression on his face. He kinda jumps when a servant offers sliently to take his empty wine glass, me makes gestures with the man and says something in a low voice. one with the ability to read lips would see that he's telling the man 'But I can just get it refilled it's no biggie I'm sure they woudln't mind' The waiter seems to accept this and wanders off shaking his head and Vik looks pleased with himself.


Saienne's expression shifts to one of mock affrontery. "Just you watch who you're callin' a roach, why don't you?" A pause, and a dry smile asserts itself. "But you ain't wrong. Good food an' a nice tipple'll draw me half way across the 'Verse - an' I really ain't jokin'." She stoops again, this time to select something to eat from the table nearest them. "Here's hopin," she says, "That I don't have to resort to slippin' this in my purse, or suchlike." She glances again in Viktor's direction and chuckles - a long, low and throaty sound. "An' here's Josephine an' all," she says as she spots her friend. "Lookin' delightful, ain't she?" Beckett's final statement causes her to laugh outright. "Oh, indeed. I expect I shouldn't be quite so presumptuous about you an' your vices."


"Thank you," Bess says and gives a bow of her head, then raises her glass to empty it and looks in the direction of the doors as well. She tilts her head at Sirah and raises a brow, smiling a bit. "You know Josephine as well? I met her at Eavesdown the other night. Had a good chat with her. Didn't actually strike me as a woman who'd attend these sorts of functions.."


Soropul steps in the large room and freezes at the entrance for a couple moments, scanning the floor left to right. He then walks slowly towards one of the food tables and picks up a small plate with his left hand while holding a napkin between the third and fourth finger, draping over the back of his left hand. As he collects some food in his plate, he scans across the floor.


Beckett chuckles again, grinning at Saienne with great amusement. "It's okay, the Dragon and Angel folks got invited to this great Alliance thingy in our honor, and the buffet after was to die for. We scrounged up doggy bags and stole as much of the leftovers as possible so it wouldn't go to waste. Think the Companions would notice if we did the same here?" she teases. "Oh!" she adds, with sudden rememberance. "Speakin'a all that, they gave us -medals-. I'm a big damn hero, I'm allowed extra vices!"


Viktor flags down one of the waiters and askes him refill his glass, having drained every last drop from the thing. The waiter looks only slightly dismayed as Viktor goes about discribing the process for the man, as he must be a mentaly handicaped waiter. Honestly where did they find these people. One would think they could at least get sane helpstaff for events like this. The whole ordeal takes second and ends with the waiter giving in to the guest. Pleased that he could teach the waiter something Viktor drinks his wine and survayes the goings on about the room still trying to figure out who was who.


Josephine nearly grins at the moment her gaze alights upon Saienne's entirely unmistakeable Fabulous Feathered Hat. She offers the woman a bit of a wave. Sirah, herself, is awknowledged with a small, polite curtsey. And Bess, whom she recognises with undisguised delight, is given a warm smile as well. Because she feels like it, and because she can, Josephine turns one full circle in a solitary waltz in time to the elegant music that fills the room.


Saienne stops mid-bite, and it isn't because the food she has picked up is too spicy - it's because of the turn in the conversation. "They gave you a gorram medal?" She demands, before the food has had the chance to enter her mouth. "For clearin' up the leftovers?" She regards Beckett suspiciously, entirely aware that she has missed some crucial element to this story. "No. That ain't right. That ain't hardly heroic." A pause. "Unless the food was really bad." She shakes her head, pulling herself from this dead-end train of thought. Her three feathers bounce jauntily. "I'm sorry. The Feds gave you a medal? All of you?" A pause, and her tone turns serious. "What for? An' can I see it?"


"Yes, I travel onboard the Grace O'Malley these days," says Sirah at Bess, her eyes are still upon Josephine and a brilliant smile curves her lips at the woman's dancesteps. She returns her attention to Bess at the same time as Aeddan appears in their company.
"Ladies." He greets them with a curt bow and a smile on his handsome features. Sirah lets her left hand slip over his formally proffered, right arm.



Charley Wong takes another sip of her wine, and then a long inhalation from the hookah again, "Well.... ain't this grand?" she says, absently, and not really aimed at anyone in particular.


Bess catches Josephine's smile and returns it, along with a toast from her empty glass. She hrms at that and turns to switch it for a full one from a passing waiter and turns back in time for Aeddan to have appeared out of nowhere. "Sir," she says to him and tilts her head forward in greeting, her hair doing that irritating thing with falling into her face. A hand sweeps it back and she takes a sip of wine, nodding to Sirah. "Ah yes. Fine looking ship, that one."


Soropul goes up to the wine serving area and asks for a small glass of Syrah. While he waits for the wine, he introduces himself to several others waiting in line for the wine, and begins to chat about the recent events. After a few exchanges, Soropul take his glass of wine and holds it with his left hand, placing the glass on his plate. He shakes their hands as he parts and walks towards the center of the room, all the while looking around for anyone he recognizes.



Beckett beams at Saienne, as if she was waiting for just the opportunity to show off her shiny new medal. She digs in a pocket (where she managed to get pockets installed on the dress, and how they don't show is a mystery for the ages) and finally produces a genuine, accept-no-imitations Parliamentary Gold Medal, which she shows to her companion (lower-c, that is). "Story is, the Dragon and Angel got caught up in some weird stuff, rescued a few of our own folks who'd been kidnapped, foiled an evil assassination plot, and got shot at a lot in the process. So yeah, they decided to embarass us all with a ceremony. The food was after. Christ, you'd think I'd remember cause and effect."


Josephine twirls a bit more on the dance floor, alone, unembarrassed and decidedly elegant for her bravery. Eventually, however, she finds herself near a passing waiter from whom she accepts a glass of pale golden champagne. Drink in hand, she makes her way to where Sirah and Aeddan and Bess are having a conversation. "I hope I am not intruding?" she asks politely of them all.


"You are not intruding at all," says Sirah as Josephine appears. She takes a step to the side, Aeddan politely following, so there is room for Josephine to step into their circle.
"I was just talking to Bess about the Grace O'Malley, and how you met on Eavesdown docks the other night."



Saienne reaches out a long-fingered hand to carefully cradle the medal, blue and white satin ribbon and all. "That," she announces, "Is a beautiful piece of metal." She looks up at Beckett, her face half-obscured by her hat's brim. "Sounds like a real party, all that," Sai says, with a crooked grin. "An' many congratulations, an' all." She straightens up and relinquishes the medal back to it's owner's care. "Big damn hero, is that so? Who would've thought it?" Her smile is mischevious one.


Lucinda rises from her seat with the guidance of Iolanthe, quickly polishing off her glass of Champange as if needing the liquid courage.


Bess rests the foot of her wineglass in the palm of one hand, the other holding the stem and turning it round and round. She gives a shake of her head to Josephine and smiles at her. "No, not at all. It's good to see you again, miss Josephine," she says and gives a glance to Sirah, then looks back to Josephine with a grin. "It's a small 'Verse, isn't it? I hadn't expected to meet anyone I knew here today."


Viktor moves about the room some more clearly starting to get tipsy from the drink, Vik not bieng one to drink that often has probally the lowest tolarance for drink of any spacer in the room. That doesn't stop him from trying to walk or conquer the mighty ONE step difference from where he was to where he wanted to be. And after a second or two or trying he manages to make it down the stair and thus he starts the long journy to the other side of the room. It's odd for him though because he can still talk and makes perfect sense to anyone that greets him. He just can't find his balance. (OOC he's not stumbleing really bad...just enough to be noticed) Clearly he's looking for someone he knows so that he may partake in more drink safely and not fear getting lost.


Leading Lucinda to an area suitable for dance, Iolanthe casually glides into place, her fingers clasped with Lu's. On her arrival, she closes her eyes for a long moment while Lucinda follows her. Io's hips sway slowly, allowing herself time to absorb herself in the music. She offers her free hand to Lucinda as she opens her eyes, finally.



Soropul catches a slightly tipsy Viktor at the corner of his eye. He takes another sip of his wine as he weaves through the crowd to reach him.


Beckett grins at Saienne, taking back her precious medal. "Ain't that a hoot? I never woulda pegged me for a hero either. I tend to duck and run, but well, wasn't much of an option at the time. Tarrick and me though, we figured we'd be able to use the medals to impress folks at the next big shindig, and I reckon it worked." She shrugs, cheerfully. "Not that I wanna get shot again, no matter how many medals are involved."


Charley Wong lets out a faint chuckle, and then takes a sip of champagne, and offers the mouthpiece of her hookah to Aesil, "Must make a note of that."


It ain't a west coast party until ... well you're on the west coast. The moral of the story is, Bishop arrives. Dressed in his finery which equates to wearing pants, and a shirt, and shoes all at once. The pilot pauses at the entry and offers a nod of greeting to the security folks. "Yeah, I heard there was free food and I know one of the ladyfolk hostin' this here get together so do I need an invitation? Or do I give you my name or some such?"


Lucinda takes Iolanthe's hand, folding herself into what ever dancer's embrace the Companion sets for them. She seems slightly hesitant, but eventually falls into some passable sembalance of the music's rythm with the other woman.


"I would be lyin'," Saienne says evenly, "If I said I weren't impressed." A pause. "But... impressin' me ain't likely to get you very far, is it?" She grins crookedly... but the grin falters a little as she spies Bishop talking to security. "Oh, good gorram," she mutters. And then smiles a dry smile. "Least he's wearin' trousers."


Josephine smiles warmly to the dark-haired woman. "I'm pleased that you remember me, Bess. And that you recognise me tonight. This is not, you might say, my usual attire." She passes her hand lightly over the brocaded silk of her bodice and her eyes crinkle with silent laughter. "Sirah, this is a very beautiful party. And you are looking particularly lovely yourself," she observes, with sincerety, adding, "I do not believe I've had the pleasure of being introduced to your escort?"


Beckett considers this, and studies Saienne, and then shrugs. "Beats me if it'll get me anywhere, but better to start with someone I like than a total stranger, right?" She follows the look and quirks an eyebrow. "Not taken to wearing pants much, is he?"


"Thank you, Josephine," says Sirah with a nod at the other woman. "And thank you for the compliment, I assure you I admire both your dress... and your dancing." A smile creases her ruby lips, as - by her side - the man bows crisply at Josephine.
"Aeddan Zheng," he says and quirks a smile. "Not to be confused with the other Zeng present. Pleased to meet you, lady."
Meanwhile, Sirah's green gaze goes to the entrance. "Oh, gosa," she mouths silently.



Charley Wong glances over, lowering the mouthpiece of the hookah, and turns to her XO. "A relation, Aesil?" She turns her smile back over to the stranger, cos, well, what else to do while lounging?


"I think you made an impression on me, Josephine," Bess says with a smile and continues turning her glass around in her hands, giving Josephine's gown a look up and down, giving a slow nod. "It beautiful, though. Rather more impressieve than anything I have in my closet." She raises her glass and takes a sip, eyes twinkling at Josephine. She turns to Aeddan and nods with a smile. "I'm Bess, by the way, in case you hadn't figured that out by now. I have a bad habit of forgetting my manners."


What, he's wearing pants. Bishop nods politely and slips into the crowd proper that have gathered around and begins walking, looking up and around at the magnificent decorum which fills the lobby. Pausing, he tilts his head and looks up and around before commenting casually. "Without a doubt the second most splended view possible, hmm?" He asks in a friendly tone only to have the person glance, and walk off without response. Tilting his head, Bishop shrugs. "Must have been used to examining ceilings."


Saienne manages, after a long interval, to eat the food she previously selected from the table. She dusts the crumbs off onto her long skirt. "That ain't an unwise thing to say, Beckett." She smiles, quite genuinely, and adds. "But it strikes me you ain't the unwise kind." She glances back at Bishop, and nods. "Not always, no. But here's hopin' he'll... rise to the occasion, or somesuch, this evenin'. He don't look entirely shabby."


Iolanthe begins to move to the beat of the music, her delicate fingers flowing in tune with the Hindi vocals. She makes her way closer to Lucinda, a small, cryptic smile on her face as the two womens' bodies make the briefest of contact.



As Soropul wanders toward Viktor, he overhears a women nearby complimenting the host of of the party. Soropul turns to see the group of beautiful companions, he looks back towards Viktor, but cannot spot him now. Soropul Shrugs slightly, and walks toward the group.


Aesil Zeng eyes the man curiously, then shakes her head, "I don;t think so, Charley.."


Lucinda sways with Iolanthe, doing her best to keep up with the woman's dancing style and managing not to step on her bare tootsies. Of course the Companion could make anyone look good dancing out on the floor. The contact is not shied away from, infact Lu seems to be having a pleasant enough time.


Sirah's gaze lingers on Bishop for a while, and only the keenest of observers would notice the brief, wary expression that fleets past her green eyes. Then her attention turns back to the group where she stands - noticeably Aeddan, who quirks a charming smile at Bess.
"Now I know. Bess. Lovely name."



"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Zheng," Josephine says smoothly, offering the slightest of curtseys in return. Apparently, the woman knows her manners, all in the right place and time. "I am Josephine Lefevre." She says her name with a perfect French accent, although her English is flawless as well. "And thank you, Sirah. You are too kind," she replies, modestly, before inclining her head to Bess with a warm smile. "Maybe it was something in the soup," she suggests, lightly. "And, thank you. I am fond of this gown as well. It was a gift."


Continuing to walk around, Bishop makes his way towards one of the food tables and examines it before using chopsticks picks up a little morsel and samples it. "Mmm, good finger foods. I wonder where they got them. Or if they made them themselves even... Oooh." He goes in for another one and picks it up, sniffs it and devours in an attempt to be delectable and classy, eeking a bit as a little of the flavored juice seeps out. "Yowuch." He comments towards anyone near by, using a finger to wipe the juice from his chin and gently sucking it. "Didn't think I'd be sucking juice off my fingers." Finishing his morsel of delicious goodness, he smiles and continues to make his tour of the lobby.


Io glides around Lucinda as she dances, twirling hypnotically around the other woman, her bare feet making no sound on the polished floor, though the jingle of the chains adorning her feet seem to mesh well with the music that plays.
As she completes her circuit around Lucinda, Io's eyes lock with her dance partners, her body moving delicately whilst her head and face remain, for the most part, still.



Beckett shrugs, in a deeply philsophical manner. "I been called a lotta things," she allows, "and a stunnin' amount of them have been uncomplimentary, but folks all seem to agree, I ain't unwise." She grins. "So you're correct in that matter." She glances back at Bishop again. "Huh. Well, I guess if someone like me can clean up nicely, anyone can for this sorta thing."


Soropul reaches the circle of beautiful ladies, and---perhaps he was slightly intimidated by the beauty---paused a couple of steps away from them, and freezes.


Bess chuckles lightly at Aeddan, a laugh that doesn't quite reach her eyes as she gives a shake of her head. "You mean a name that fits a cow?" she says and raises her glass, smirking lightly at him before taking a sip. "It's a nickname I haven't been able to shake. My given name is Elizabeth." And that's all the names she's willing to give out in this place. She takes another sip of wine and smile broadly to Josephine. "And I trusted that soup vendor..." She shakes her head in mock sadness, then adds with another look at the other woman's dress. "A splendid gift, indeed."


Lucinda follows along with Io, completely enthralled with the woman and her dancing. She gets caught up in the little display, forgetting for a moment where she is or who she is for that manner. Those that know the good doctor, this is quite literally the only time she's ever let her hair down.


Saienne looks down at her own flowing skirts, and then at Beckett's blue dress. "There's folk like us," she says mildly, "Who scrub up fine an' dandy when we need to. An' there's folk like our Bishop where the problem ain't so much scrubbin' up as... openin' his mouth in polite company."


"Elizabeth is a fine name, too."
Aeddean is quite unphazed. His polite and handsome smile remains in place, and a look is sent to Sirah who still stands by his arm. But Sirah does not notice it, for another glance is flicked over her shoulder - a soft furrowing of her brow at Bishop's comment. When she looks back her gaze pauses on Sorupul, whom is given a warm smile and a nod.



Speaking of opening his mouth: passing by one of the tables with the ever so abundantly placed hookahs on it, Bishop pauses and does a double take before approaching hesitantly and tilting his head. "Well. I don't even need to make an observation over this." He comments to himself but loudly enough to be heard because an inner-monologue simply isn't very fun.


"I think it is a fine name," Josephine assures the dark-haired woman, "but if it does not please you, you could introduce yourself as Elizabeth or Beth or Liza..or any name that you feel will suit your spirit more truthfully.." When she notices Sirah's distraction, Josephine follows her gaze to see Bishop being Bishop. And contrary to the possible reactions of being mildly scandalised or embarrassed or anything of the sort, the woman smiles warmly, fondly, even. "Ah..that's our Bishop."


Beckett giggles briefly, then looks apalled that she could make such a girly sound. "Aw, hell, I've been there, too. I'm pretty sure the Captain contemplates locking me up before we go ashore, sometimes, just to make sure I don't screw the deal raw by talkin'."


Io continues to dance with Lu, her enjoyment apparently. The platinum that adorns her body jingles in time with the music, adding a complimentary percussionist flow along with what comes out of the speakers, without being a distraction.
As the tempo slows somewhat, the distance between Io and Lu closes, eventually ending with the Companion's draping of her arms over her dance partner, holding her close as the music plays on. Io appears oblivious to all else in the area.



Lucinda rests her arms lightly to either side of Io's waist, her hands gently splayed on the Companion's lower back. At least Lu doesn't seem to mind the blush that crests her checks anymore, but its still clinging there.


Bess gives a tilt of her head at Aeddan, then Josephine and purses her lips a bit. "I suppose I've gotten used to Bess.. It just doesn't seem.. Appropirate in such a setting," she says and shrugs, drawing in a deep breath. "Well, if you you'll all excuse me, I think I'm going to try some of this fine food before it's all gone." She takes a step back and gives a short bow from the waist, then straightens and turns to walk away.


Saienne appears as surprised by the woman's giggle as Beckett is herself, and she looks beyond the hat brim at her companion (still with a small c) with an eyebrow raised. "That a fact?" She asks. "An' would that be on account of your propensity to insult the folk you're dealin' with?" A pause, and she considers. "Because on occasion that can be a real useful skill." She seems, then, to see over Beckett's shoulder to where Lucinda is dancing with Iolanthe. She watches for a while, and finally nods. "Looks like I ain't the only one enjoyin' myself."


Josephine reaches up to touch her hair, watching Bess turn away to investigate the food. She doesn't seem to be particularly interested in the food herself, but, rather, turns to contemplate the various dancers with a sort of wistful expression upon her face.


"You must both excuse me," Aeddan says gravely to Bess and Josephine. But even then, a smile plays beneath the surface of his icy eyes. "But the dance floor seems empty without my lady here."
And with that, he leads Sirah by the hand and joins the other couples on the floor.



Unfortunately, Bishop's wandering has taken him in a round about path towards the hosts of the event, pausing and shaking his head. "I haven't seen a gaggle of Companions that numerous ever. A beautiful sight to behold. It is a gaggle right ,not a gurgle?" The question is referenced to some gent who just stares then moves off. Bishop is left turning, "Ah, Ah no... ah... Come on." Shaking his head, he then starts to walk again. On a beeline. Towards Sirah. That is of course until she's led out onto the Dance floor, a slight smirk to Bishop's lips then he shrugs.


Beckett covers up her moment of weakness with a quick hrrmph. "Yeah, well, I might say the wrong kinda thing on occasion. But I'm hell on wheels when I'm allowed to haggle for parts, because I know better insults than almost anyone I know, except maybe Tarrick." She grins, proud of this fact. "But I ain't allowed to make folks cry anymore." She watches Lucinda, and nods. "Ayup, seems she's having a mighty good time also. Glad to hear you're enjoyin' yourself, too. This ain't a bad party, for all that it ain't the informal shindigs we can really loosen up at."


Aesil Zeng smiles at Charley, "What flavour smoke you got..? I'll fetch you some complementary food..see if I remember my training...."


Charley Wong laughs, "I've got rosewater, actually. You should try it." She's lounging on pillows, and sucking intermitantly on the tube of a hookah, alternating that with sipping champagne.


Lucinda gives a soft laugh at something Iolanthe said quietly to her, the doctor shaking her head in mild disbelief mingled with humor. "I'm afraid those were never sponsored by the Medical Board." The two are dancing off in their own little world, client and Companion not mingling much with the others attending.


Laughing softly at Lu's answer, Io replies, still moving in time with both the music and her client gently. "You must get me in contact with them, dear Lu, I feel that that is a direction they should explore for thier next charity event." She leans in closely again, her tone quiet again.



Aesil Zeng hmms.."Rosewater...not too sweet then to cloy the mouth, or perfumes to counter it...I'd say cool...." She wanders away to where the buffet is laid out, collecting two plates. One for her, and one, it seems, for her Captain.


"Well, this certainly ain't the kind of dancin' I'm accustomed to," Sai says, gesturing at Lucinda and Iolanthe out on the floor. "As well you know." She intercepts a waiter as he passes by, snagging a fluted glass of white wine for herself, and causing the man to wait in case Beckett needs a top up herself.


Dolores jogs into the hotel, her chest heaving as she gasps for breath. She doubles over for a moment, leaning against a chair back to catch her breath. But after a moment she stands and runs her fingers through her hair, primping briefly and then walking in a measured stride to her crew. "Leen! Ae! You look lovely both of you."


As the crowd grows, Soropul gets knocked off his balance. Partially because of the wine, he looks around confused. He hurries towards a pillar to catch his breath and re-center himself.


Beckett snakes a fresh drink as well, smiling brightly. "Yeah, I ain't much of a dancer. Unless I got a decent partner to make me look good," she says with amusement. "Even then, it's a crapshoot."


Aesil Zeng turns and smiles at Doll. She would wave but..is rather encumbered with putting food onto plates. As she turns back to the food, a young female server rather officiously suggests someting she insists would complement the smoke from Charley's hookah. Ae frowns, and shakes her head, before remembering to look politely amused. She says quietly, "I suggested that to a friend of my parents at my first reception. It did /not/ go down well...." And continues down the buffet.


Charley Wong glances over to Dolores, and flashes a smile, "Not looking too bad yourself, Doc!" She stretches, and then winces, "I kinda skipped my painkillers today, though. Wanted some champagne."


Dolores plops herself beside Leen on the pillows, her dainty face lifting to sniff the air scented by the hookah. "I didn't know you smoked. What is that?" As her captain winces three kinds of concern flit across the woman's dark face and she frowns at her. "I should have locked you in Medbay." she sighs, reaches out to gently pat her leg. "At least let me know if I need to fix it?" She scans the crowd, seeing many old familar faces, and a grin flits across her face at one of them.


Josephine silently contemplates the dancers over her glass of champagne which she delicately sips from time to time. Finally, once the glass is almost empty, she seems to have come to a decision, and, lifting the hem of her red silk gown in her hand, she glides gracefully to the dance floor all on her own. There, the small woman begins to dance, performing each step with measured grace and obvious enjoyment, flowing with the music, peaceful and sure.


"I do recall you din't do too badly down at the racecourse." Sai says, sipping her drink. A blush has risen in her cheeks, and her eyes glitter with all the life of someone well on their way to alcohol-induced merriness. "Before the evenin' took a more dramatic turn, as they are on occasion wont to do." She watches Josephine as she glides on to the dancefloor and begins to swirl about all on her own. "Now there's a thing," she says, smiling crookedly.


Aesil Zeng returns with a couple of plates to where Charley is lounging, and offers a plate to her. "See if my mother's training in such things has survived ship's rations." The other plate, loaded with a larger variety of finger foods, she passes to Doll. "Here, have this..I'll get another plate for myself.."


Charley Wong hands the hookah pipe to Dolores with a grin, "I like the occasional smoke. Not hooked on 'em, thankfully. You ever tried hookah smoke?"


Beckett chuckles at Saienne, and sips at her drink before replying. "Yeah, well, so maybe I've had a few good moments here and there. But I certainly ain't the sort to go out on my own that way, and especially not look that good doin' it. I know my limits, such as they are. I reckon you do too, or you'd be out there as well," she teases.


Dolores oohhhs at the bounty of food passed to her. "Why thank you Aesil." she says politely, bowing shallowly to the woman. She's nibbling on a something when Leen passes her the pipe, and she hurriedly swallows it to reply. "Not in years. Smoked I mean." She takes a long drag and then breaks out coughing. She stands and leans against a chair till she catches her breath.


Finally slowing, and then ceasing her dance, Iolanthe stands still on the dance floor. She watches Lu carefully, a smile on Io's sharp features.



"See, I ain't got that particular kind of serene confidence our Josephine is currently displayin'. Give me a familiar reel an' I'll be up an' spinnin' before you can blink." She pauses, and listens to the music. "But I ain't sure of the pattern of this music. My feet'd get all tangled." She takes another drink. "So you ain't wrong about knowin' my limits, I reckon." At this, she glances across towards the door. "An' speakin' of limits, I also reckon I should take a trip to the powder room."


Amidst the dancing couples, Josephine swirls and glides and twirls about all her own with remarkable talent and expression until the dance has ended and she unabashedly takes a deep breath. Smiling a bit, to no one in particular, she heads back to the sidelines of the dance floor, randomly deciding that this would be an appropriate moment to eat a strawberry.


Charley Wong reaches over, to pat Dolores' back gently, "If it's been a while, maybe it don't agree with you."


Nodding sagely towards Lucinda, Iolanthe takes the other woman by the hand, and takes a step, as if to lead her as she begins to walk through the crowd, which parts amicably for the Companion as she moves.



Aesil Zeng heads back to the buffet for another plate, and another glass of wine for herself as well. She winces slightly as she moves, but seems to be falling into well-remembered habits.


Lucinda follows behind Iolanthe as they prepare to depart the dance floor.


Beckett nods to Saienne. "Well, if you get kidnapped and never return, great seein' you again," she says brightly. "Take care'a yourself until next time."


Dolores catches her breath again, this time the coughing subsideing quickly. She turns her head to Leen, smiling "I'd offer to dance, but I think I'm the only unwounded one." She stands on the chair she was leaning against and looks around from a better vantage point. Lucinda she sort of recognizes. They were wearing scrubs and elbow deep in the wounded at the time... But Beckett is here too!


Saienne looks around the room, and says quietly. "These folk don't look like the kidnappin' kind to me." A pause. "An' besides, I don't reckon they'd raise any sort of a ransom on me - ain't got no friends in high places, nor no elderly relatives with secret fortunes." She grins, lifts her glass in a salute at Beckett, and turns to stride off - as much as she is able in her long skirt - towards the aforementioned powder room.


------
Grace O'Malley - Cargo Bay =>Grace O'Malley - Shark<=
Peeper smiles a little and waves in passing.


Saienne stomps up the Grace's ramp only a little bit the worse for wear. And she's wearing a dress. She starts to unpin her broad-brimmed and feather-bedecked hat as she reaches the safety of the hold. "Evenin' Peeper," Saienne says. "Just headin' to bed - early mornin' tomorrow." She glances back down the ramp at the Sihnon docks. "Josephine an' the doctor are out in town if you fancied joinin' them." A pause, and she adds, by way of explanation: "Free food, ain't it."


Peeper quirks a brow, mostly at the manner of atypical dress she sees coming up the ramp. She listens dutifully, even if it doesn't explain much, and nods a little at first. The nods turn to a shake of the head as she offers in a small voice, "No thanks, I'm fine. Sleep good."


Saienne yawns abruptly, and nods, a lop-sided smile coming fast on the yawn's heels. "Ain't it just," she says. "Good gorram, I'm tired. I always do get out of whack between planets." A pause. "It's like livin' with permanent jet lag." The large hat dangles from one hand. "Anyhow. A cup of camomile tea, I reckon, an' then some hours snorin'. Reckon I'll see you in the mornin'." Sai then looks up at the hatch to the Commons and the ladder leading up to it. "Ah." She says, looking down to her long skirt. "There ain't no elegant way of doin' this..." She begins to clamber up the ladder, rather less nimbly than is her habit, but it still isn't long before she vanishes towards the higher decks.