There was a chill riding the wind, an unusual feeling that pricked at Scout's skin, creating gooseflesh on her arms. Something about this day was off. Maybe it was because they had woken up late that Scout felt this urge tugging at her stomach for them to hurry. They were nearing the next camp and the wolf was ready for another cup of cocoa and a shower. Who knew that these things would have made a lasting impression in her mind?
There was another reason that Scout was rushing, aside from the tempting luxuries normally only afforded to humans. It was the weariness that made her eyes bleary and shoulders ache. The fatigue of not having slept for another night, which made her sway slightly on her bike. Scout bit down on her lip, hard enough to wake her up, but not to draw blood. Her ears pulled forward, alert, but the only sound they could hear was the wind whipping sand against Ljilja's giant mechanics, making tiny pings! Eventually, they began to meander up a sandy hill, the height of it providing a bit of shade from the sun and protection from the sandstorm, a rare reprieve.
Ljilja's Longjacks scooped at the sand as they stepped; she was struggling a little to climb the dune, but it wasn't anything she hadn't encountered before. She adapted her pace, shuffling her way up while trying her best to keep sand out of her face.
Boqin rode to the top of the hill on his hoverbike, covering his eyes and scanning the horizon. He could see other competitors, other teams, but by this stage of the event, he supposed many of them were worn down, looking to rush to the finish rather than to pick fights.
Scout blinked slowly, clearing her eyes of the fog. She removed her visor to swipe at her face, spitting out sand, which was gritty between her teeth. Just a little farther, Scout thought to herself. They would hopefully reach the third camp soon, then she could pass out. Not until then, Scout told herself. Her tail perked upright, catching the scent of another team. It was easier to smell them, considering how many competitors were sweating from the sweltering heat.
Even with the wind, the heat was stifling. "Guys-" Scout's stopped, her stomach dropped, picking up a particularly unpleasant scent.
Boqin turned to Scout, trusting her senses more than his own, even in her state of exhaustion.
Ljilja, for her part, had only just made it up the hill. She looked around, bright-eyed and curious. "What is it?"
Scout's tail swished from side to side slowly, as if contemplating on telling them. "We should hurry," she said, instead. Hoping that if they moved fast enough, they could avoid an encounter with those three. The memory of the shark-woman bearing down on another competitor was not one Scout would soon forget. She had heard of cabalistic mutants, but had been lucky enough to never encounter one herself, until now.
Ljilja shrugged and proceeded down the hill, sliding down its slope, finding that the safest way to quickly get down. Boqin lingered for a moment, meeting eyes with her. His culture was ordinarily terse; they knew how to speak with their eyes and deeds. Had he caught on?
Scout nodded subtly, confirming Boqin's thoughts. She had smelled something dangerous, something that posed a real threat. Her grip on the handlebars of her bike became a bit stronger and Scout looked forward, pressing on, taking the lead. She felt a bit more awake, now that her senses had caught on to a predator.He glanced opposite the direction of the wind, then his eyes caught it - the sight of three riders ignoring the forward path towards camp and barreling straight for them at full speed. Grimacing, he turned on his bike and joined her without further delay.
Scout's knuckles were white. It was rare that she was nervous facing off against an opponent. Scout had allowed Boqin to beat the daylights out of her as a challenge. There was something very important that Mercy had taught her, however, something she saw in that shark. Not to touch crazy. That it was unpredictable and almost impossible to win against. They just had to lose them, or beat them to the third camp.
Unfortunately for them, Ljilja's greatest strength was also their worst handicap. If they were all on bikes, they would be able to outpace their pursuers, but Ljilja would be left behind to fend for herself, for she could not travel as quickly on Longjacks. With each passing moment they traveled as a group, Scout could sense the Cortège gaining on them.
"Ljilja!" Scout suddenly snapped, riding alongside her. "Can those things go any faster?" She could sense them gaining on their team. Ljilja would probably be safe against them, sure, in her giant metal armor, but Boqin and Scout only had swords to defend themselves against... whatever weapon the other team was using.
Ljilja's bounding strides seemed to hasten, but it resulted in very little increase in speed. She was abnormally agile with them, but they were never designed to outrun hoverbikes. "I can only go this fast!" she answered, frowning earnestly.
Scout grit her jaw, she couldn't criticize the fish, she was doing her best, Scout could see. The wolf glanced back at Boqin, making sure she was keeping pace. In that moment, her eyes connected with the rider at the back of the group that was tailing them. The mutant gave Scout a slick smile, waving with glee, as though she enjoyed this.
Should they take a turn? Veer off course?
"We will not make it to camp first," Boqin finally voiced aloud, confirming Scout's suspicions.
"First?" Ljilja asked, looking between the two. She glanced back and gasped on seeing the others following them. "Who are they?!"
"Just keep going, don't waste time looking back!" Scout urged.
"We might not, but we can d@mn well try." Scout wasn't going to get caught up in a confrontation, not with these three. Her heart picked up speed in her chest, her tail wagging anxiously.
Ljilja squeaked with concern, her pace quickening, but she too could sense the figurative dogs snapping at their heels. They were gaining, and fast. The camp was still too far away; their foes would be upon them far sooner.
Thwack! An arrow whizzed past her shoulder, grazing her face. However, Scout barely registered the pain. She was much too busy focusing on staying awake. "Sh!t," Scout grit her teeth. Her vision was turning dark at the edges, narrowing, and closing in. Her eyes were blurry and her grip on her motorbike was loosening. "Ljilja," Scout slurred, her bike coming to a stop, but her body no longer on it. She had fallen to the side, rolling several feet down the hill before stopping, her swords tangling with her hair.
Ljilja froze up, her eyes widening with alarm. Boqin turned his bike to stop, and the pursuers began to slow their approach, growing a little more cautious. "Wha...what happened?" Ljilja asked, bounding up to Scout's unconscious body. "Down for the count, just like before," Boqin said. "Get her out of here." The hum of hoverbikes grew louder and another arrow soared towards Scout, but was warded off by Ljilja's metal arms. Now they were mere yards away. Ljilja scooped Scout up into one of the arms of her Longjacks as before, looking to Boqin and tearing up. "I cannot outrun them," she realized. "No need. I will fight. Go," he answered her. "But you will be alone!" she cried.
"Go!" he demanded, yelling at the top of his lungs, causing him to double over in pain from his injuries. Ljilja grit her teeth, then began barreling off toward the next camp as quick as she could, cradling Scout with one of her metal arms. She could not bring herself to look back.
There was something plush beneath her, a sensation that Scout was not used to. Someone had covered her body. Am I dead? Scout wondered, her limbs feeling heavy.
I thought I had more time? strangely, Scout was not panicked by this thought. Was it the arrow that had killed her? The ori? At least it was painless, she mused, until sensation began to creep back into her limbs and Scout realized (with mild disappointment) that she was still alive. Slowly, her eyes opened, the room dark. Her head throbbed at the temples, her cheek burning. Someone had wrapped the arrow wound a bit clumsily.
"Hello?" Scout croaked, her throat as dry as the Wastes. How long had she been out? Where were the others?
Scout could hear Ljilja sniffling and start to see the inside of a dark room as her eyes adjusted to her surroundings. Suddenly, Scout felt a tight hug as Ljilja leapt upon her and squeezed her close. "I must...go get Jax...to say you are awake...he will know what to do..."
Scout nodded slowly, feeling the death-grip hug of what could only be Ljilja. "You don't have to do that," Scout's voice was hoarse. Had Ljilja been crying? "Where's Boqin?" Scout looked around as her eyes adjusted, realizing that he was missing.
"He...is coming," Ljilja answered unsurely. "Just...um...one moment..." she said to excuse herself. It took a few more moments for her to be able to bring herself to release the hug, though. Scout could hear her hasty padding footsteps as she called out, "Jax, Jax, she is awake!" while running towards his room.
Jax's room wasn't far from where Ljilja had left Scout. Their accommodations in the third camp, were akin to a hotel. With indoor, air conditioned rooms, real beds, in-suite showers, and room service. It was hard to imagine it getting more luxurious than this. Jax and Ten were sharing a cheese plate, when Ljilja’s frantic knocking sound from outside.
Ten rose, she had been wary to leave Jax's side, ever since she had found out who his latest patient was. "I'm coming," Jax nodded at Ten, indicating she should stay. Reluctantly, Ten sat back down. Jax grabbed his backpack, his makeshift medical kit, and opened the door to see the little fish standing there.
"Let's go," he said, gesturing for Ljilja to lead.
Ljilja skittered her way back to the room, using her wristband to unlock the door. The building had plenty of rooms for competitors, but distressingly many lay vacant.
The door chirped and Ljilja pushed it open, granting Jax access. "Thank you, thank you," she murmured in repetition quietly to Jax before scurrying to Scout's bedside.
Jax opened one of the curtains, allowing light to flood into the room. Scout winced, wondering what had warranted that. "Oh, it's you.” She grumbled, looking up at the mutant that had stitched Boqin up.
"You've got quite the friend," he said in reply, making his way over to the bed. Scout had not yet attempted to sit up. "Ljilja asked me to help you." He didn't have to, he could've turned his nose at her request, but Jax wasn't here to win the Games, he didn't mind helping his fellow players.
"She even bandaged your cheek for you." Scout attempted to sit up, but Jax pushed down on her shoulder, getting her to lay back down. "How long have you known you've had Ori?"
"Since before the Games," Scout spoke quietly. "S'why I joined them. I'm gonna die anyhow, may as well go out with a bang." Jax was quiet as he examined her. He had watched his teacher die of ori and many others after that. Mutants could not afford the cure.
"What's the diagnosis?" Scout drawled, her eyes darting to look at Ljilja, then back up at the snow leopard. He had gotten the message, loud and clear. For whatever reason, the wolf was protecting the fish, even from hearing something potentially upsetting. "Exhaustion and dehydration, you passed out from a combination of the two," he said at last. "My recommendation is to stay in bed for as long as possible and to drink plenty of water." Jax sniffed and wrinkled his nose. "And maybe hit the shower, once you're up for it." He turned to Ljilja and patted her shoulder.
"Your angry friend is gonna be just fine," he assured her. "You did the right thing, coming to me. Even if it wasn't serious, it's always better to be safe, than sorry."
Ljilja nodded softly to Jax, sniffling again. She didn't know what to say, so she simply repeated, "Thank you." She gave Jax a small hug before urgently grabbing her canister of water and offering it to Scout to try and help her follow Jax's direction.
Scout sat up slowly, taking the offered water from Ljilja. "Thanks," her voice was soft. "If you need anything else, you know where to find me." Jax said to her, before taking his leave. Scout watched him go, then, uncapped the water and chugged it. Would Boqin really meet them here? Scout thought back to the three attempting to confront him, her stomach twisting in knots. She looked at the ribbon, tied artfully around her wrist. It was a bit dirty, but still there.
"How long was I out for?"
"...a few hours. Maybe eight or nine," she answered before hanging her head in shame.
Scout nearly choked on her water. "Eight or nine!" She yelled, wrestling with the blanket momentarily. "Why did you let me sleep that long!" Of course, it wasn't Ljilja's fault, Scout had been out like a light.
"I tried to wake you, but you wouldn't get up..." Ljilja replied, sniffling again.
The moment she stood, Scout's head began to spin. She stumbled, falling to her knees. "We have to find him," she spoke quietly, but in this state, Scout would not be able to get far.
Ljilja slowly helped lift Scout back onto the bed, sighing with relief that she did not fight her. "I can get you food, then we can wash you," she answered. It was short-sighted thinking, but Ljilja didn't seem to be in the mood to consider anything much further than right in front of her. It was probably impressive that she managed to make it to camp, let alone with an unconscious Scout in tow.
Scout recognized that she could not be of much use, right now. She had become a burden to her teammate, something she never wanted to be. Scout leaned on Ljilja, hobbling slowly back to the bed, her tail hanging shamefully between her legs. She lay back down, her head spinning. "... That sounds good."
"What would you like? They have a full buffet," Ljilja suggested. She even mustered a little excitement to her voice to add, "All free, too..."
"Hot cocoa," was the first thing that came to mind. "And pancakes?" To her, those two foods were heavenly. Most of her life, Scout had subsisted off of those packets you put under a rocket. It was only after meeting Ljilja that she learned you were supposed to cook them, first.
Ljilja nodded and turned to the wall, tapping her selections into a screen and adding her own requests before pressing a button to submit it. Then, she crawled up into bed with Scout, not seeming to mind the smell. She herself was a pleasant lavender, having likely taken a long shower some time after Scout had been stabilized.
Scout took another tentative sip of water. Was rest really all she needed? Scout was uncertain. She touched her cheek, where Ljilja had wrapped up her cut. "Thanks..." Scout muttered, never having been good at showing gratitude. "For uh... this."
Ljilja hugged Scout tight, burying her face into her. "I just want you to be okay," she said, her voice muffled.
"You heard what the Doc said, s'gonna be fine." Scout recounted, hoping her words would offer some reassurance.
Ljilja whined in a way that seemed like a precursor to crying, but she had probably been doing plenty of that in Scout's absence. She just sniffled again, rubbing her head against Scout.
Scout awkwardly reached out, patting Ljilja's head. "S'okay," she reiterated, perhaps saying it a second time for her own sake.
Ljilja grumbled this time, unconvinced. Luckily, though, Scout was saved by the bell—a chime at the door signaled the arrival of their food. Ljilja slowly peeled herself off of Scout and rolled onto her feet, walking over to the door to let the food in. In short order the room was filled with the scent of hot chocolate, pancakes, waffles, butter, bacon, and...fried octopus. Ljilja ushered the automated cart in and to Scout's bedside.
"Lot of food," Scout wasn't saying that like it was a bad thing, though. At the smell of bacon, her stomach growled loudly. The perpetually hungry wolf was, surprise, hungry. "You're gonna have to feed me," Scout said jokingly, playing into her current sickness.
Ljilja, still tense from all the stress, took her words for face value. She grabbed one of the many slices of bacon and held it near Scout's mouth, not hesitating in the slightest.
Scout's face turned bright pink, "I was kidding," she managed to sputter, a bit embarrassed. Still, Scout opened her mouth, taking the bacon gratefully.
Ljilja muttered a soft "Oh," in reply. She let Scout finish the piece, then pulled up a chair to sit across from her and begin eating as well.
Later than anticipated or desired, the roll of carriage wheels made its presence known at the docks. Long had Etoile's bedtime passed - and that of most of the Redempteur's inhabitants, save its most night-worthy of owls - but, deep into the evening, the horse-drawn vehicle came to a stop and deposited its inhabitants near to the airship's moor.
Despite Tybalt's remarkable height, he was accompanied by a girl taller and stronger than he, and flanked by his now de facto lawyer, Armel. The wooden platform creaked beneath their feet as they approached their ship's main ramp.
Upon arrival, the Ringmaster, knowing intimately the quirks of his vessel, reached out his cane to tap upon just the right spot. Each thud rang out like a low gong through the cargo section, alerting his fellows to the recovery of a lost sheep.
Home sweet ship...It may have been a good bit since she had seen the ship but the tingling feeling she had seeing it was a nice feeling. But with them finally stopped, Karolin would step outside the carriage to enjoy the nice open space after being cooped up in a less than comfortable environment which was that room with metal bars.
But now far away, and remembering Tybalt's words she was a few steps away from a hug… Oh… Hugs were possible, once again. As much as the ship had missed Karolin, she too, had longed for her return. With a fuzzy, sentimental feeling in her chest, Karolin stepped forward. However, her face was blank, her normal, stoic expression like a mask across her features.
Armel stretched at the entrance, letting out a heavy sigh. Karolin was home and his duty was done. And although the detectives were persistent, the situation ended well.
Now—despite it being way past the time for a good night's sleep—Armel was determined to rest. He turned to bid his companions goodbye, but before he could speak he was cut off by a familiar voice.
"Karolin! Mr. Tybalt! Armel! Welcome home!" Ines sang in French, her eyes glistening with excitement.
Armel whispered beneath his breath, "Almost escaped. Almost."
The return of the trio was greeted by the pitter-patter of little feet. Up far past her bedtime, she excitedly held the hand of Maria, who was still in her day-clothes, having prepared for their return. "Welcome back," Maria smiled, her relief palpable.
This would not be the first time the circus had had a run-in with the law. However, it was the first time one of them had gotten caught. "Someone insisted on staying up far past her bedtime to make certain you returned." Untangling her fingers from Maria's grasp, Etoile ran forward to her Papa, grasping his pant leg with one hand, the other signing quickly.
«You were gone for too long, Papa.»
Peering down from his head's high perch upon his shoulders, Tybalt beamed a glowing smile to his adoptive daughter.
«Not by choice», he remarked back to her in sign language. Then, with one of his large hands, he ruffled her golden hair.
His attention turned to Ines with warm astonishment. "Oiseau chanteuse, I did not expect to see your shining face at this hour! It seems half the ship has gathered for this occasion!"
Karolin’s ears caught the tune of Ines’s sing-song voice, her melodic tone carrying down the hall. One by one, they poked their faces out to greet them. Oh...With this many people, surely there was a party going on. If so many gathered in one spot, there must have been something worthy of celebration. At least this was her reasoning.
"Ines. Back home. Hug?" She would greet her back in her normal deadpan tone of voice as she put her arms to the side in a gesture of a hug.
Ines' eyes brimmed with tears. She fell ill and only awoke moments ago. Filled with guilt for wasting an entire day, she was debating coming to greet them. But seeing her friends, brightened Ines' mood.
Ines walked over to Karolin and wrapped her arms around the larger woman’s waist, "I missed you, Karolin." Ines sniffled.
With the heart warming hug that Ines would embrace Karolin with, she in return would gently wrap her arms around her. Despite her strength being very well known to be extortionary, she knew full well that she should be very careful with her friends. They were of course not like her, so she would hug back gently with closed eyes to enjoy their warmth together...Nice and warm...It did feel better with the company of friends.
Of course she would perk up at the surprise Maria mentioned. "There is a party. Everyone is all together...Oh...Did something good happen while I was away?" Karolin asked as she would soon release her arms from Ines.
As through appearing from the shadows, Rien was suddenly among them, her face smeared with what looked to be flour. "Welcome back, Karolin," Rien, too, was relieved to see the gentle giant make her return.
"If everyone should like to gather in the dining room, we have prepared a bit of a surprise." Maria clapped her hands together, hoping to guide them to where each member had dutifully set up the surprise for Karolin. Rien flashed a thumbs up to Maria, indicating that the cake preparation had been a success. Maria nodded subtly in reply, smiling gratefully. They could not have done this without the help of the entire crew.
Etoile shook her head, attempting to fix her hair. «Papa, next time, you should let me whisper to la police.»Etoile signed back. She could have made them all forget that Karolin was ever there.
«No next time», he replied in sign. But who was he assuring—Etoile or himself?
With long, stilt-like steps, Tybalt strode towards the dining room, motioning for Karolin to join him.
"Come one, come all, it's time to celebrate!" he declared as he ventured through the hallways.
Not quite finding the need to join the welcome huddle, Lawrence instead busied himself halfway slogging through the more intimate beats of preparations. Of course, he didn't blame Etoile for leaving her post to greet the ringmaster early, the man himself admittedly forfeited their already fleeting time to wash the stems and sepals of every plucked flower.
Regardless, he'd find time to greet and inquire on exactly when their heist went sour after he was finished. He was strangely enjoying himself, dispersing picked litter atop the finished, dustless mantels he had scraped clean himself the morning preceding.
Concluding his own devices, he approached Tybalt, orienting himself peculiarly as to protect his mouth from Etoile's eyes and spoke in a husky half-whisper.
"Ringmaster, a word after celebrations?" When Lawrence was trusted with field-planning, the exhausts of any missteps lingered like tainted gas. He'd rather nip the source of the issue at the bud..
For their sake, and especially Karolin's.
From within the dining room, a much more sordid scene was unfolding—the sudden, dramatic bawling of a clown. "Bwoo-hoo-hoo!" Pepper sobbed melodramatically, fists concealed in her sleeves raised to her cheek to wipe at painted tears. "Memphy, dear, our darling Karolin is never coming home!" Her whining was directed at the colleague who she had been working with to set the table—or at least she had been hours ago. Now, her only occupation seemed to be warming the seats, while playing the role of a worried mother scorned.
"She just doesn't care for Mama and Papa anymore!" The tiny Mama complained, "Not since she ran off with the boys in blue... And it's because you drove her away with your shoddy jokes!" She pointed accusingly at her 'husband’. "You—buster! Oh, you drive me to drink!" Pouting, she reached out to the wine bottle they retrieved to cheekily pour herself a glass.
A man's shadow dragged his feet toward the source of the sound, one that beckoned his name with the sing-song pitch of a winebibber that rang straight to his eardrums that distance didn’t spare. Memphy he had been called, blinked slowly as if he had just woken from a long slumber. He groaned as he settled his weight on the nearest chair, shoes propped up on the table and a top hat shielding his face from the blinding lights above. Pre-drinks with the tireless resident clown was a terrible idea. He didn’t need to look out from under his hat to sense the commotion she was brewing, fingers jabbed in his direction as he was placed in a role he never entertained would come to pass…A terrible idea indeed. Although drained, he cleared his throat and hopped back onto his feet to make amends. It was still a momentous occasion, and there were more drinks to go around. Not to mention other fingers may be jabbed his way, the blame easily falling to him when things went astray. “Not now, darling, we have visitors.” He pulled Pepper away by the waist from her newly poured drink, tidied the stray strands of her bright red wig before lifting her over his shoulder in a breath’s break from her theatrical tirade.
"Goo-wargh—!! See, this is what I mean!" Pepper whined as she was clown-handled, "You have no sense of dramedic timing! I'm trying to do a bit of a bitter bit, and you're biting it!" She kicked and pounded—while subtly avoiding hurting her escort—while she threw an amusing temper tantrum, curly locks jostling like leaves in an autumn torrent. "Honestly, you think I don't know that?"
"Welcome back, Karolin." Rien poured herself a glass of wine, joining in the festivities. They had no qualms with drinking on this ship, some even thought to make a game of it on slow nights, where they had nothing to do but wait to reach their next destination. Tonight, the air was a bit lighter. The previous somber haze that had hung over them began to lift, Karolin having at last returned to them.
Just as implied, Pepper's hearing stole away all suspense. It was not long before the others, too, could hear the approach of footsteps and the tapping of Tybalt's staff upon the hull. Tybalt's long strides took him to the entrance of the dining room, where someone would surely fix Karolin a meal. "I am quite sure you are famished," he said in an address to his newly freed crewmate. "Prison food is...nothing to write home about, as the kids say. But a home-cooked meal should have you right as rain." He was careful not to imply too much. Hopefully, then, as he ushered Karolin inside, she did not expect to see the feast laden before her: scrumptious soups and meats, still-warm bread, and a large chocolate cake as a centerpiece. Crisp, bright fresh flowers lined the room on all sides, as did bottles of wine and highly-distilled vodka imported from Karolin's homeland. And, in the seats, all who had the endurance to stay up at this late hour to greet the prodigal strongwoman.
Kaolin's thoughts would shift at the sudden prospect of food. From her question of who the party was for, her mind was now on the prospect of stuffing her face with food from home once again.
And well...The prison food was food, it was nice of them. Two slices of bread with some jelly three meals a day. Prisoners really did get some benefits even if they did so-called 'bad' things. But the smell of nice hot food in the air certainly did interest her more than slices of bread and jelly.
"Thank you. And a thank you to whoever cooked it." She would soon walk on over like a curious cat looking over all the options, the food and...Oh the drinks? She saw some of those bottles before back home...Her father drank a lot of those clear liquids from bottles. And she saw other people in other houses drinking them and dancing around afterwards...Strange...Her father always was in a bad mood when he drank that...
How strange indeed...She would take one bottle and begin making a plate with all sorts of nice steaming foods with no rhyme or reason. She was after all not a picky eater after all. But she was indeed quite curious on what this 'vodka' does to people.
November 10, 2022
The tall woman normally intimidated the mouse. It was not as if the mouse detested Karolin, no, she was merely wary of someone that towered over her and was strong enough to lift the entire dining room table.
Etoile mustered up her courage, moving out from behind her Papa, taking out her quill and pad of paper. 《Welcome home, I brought the flowers, with Lawrence, for you.》 She scribbled with nimble fingers. Etoile held the pad up for Karolin to read, but she must have done so too late.
Maria, in that moment, walked over with a plate for Karolin, smiling in that motherly way of her's. "Welcome back, Karolin, tu nous as manqué. We have missed you."
Amid the pleasantries and welcomes home, Tybalt bowed to dismiss himself for a moment. He and Lawrence had meant to have words; not cross ones, ideally, but for one of their own to find themselves behind bars merited discussion. Between the grieving and legal proceedings, it was difficult to find time to address what went wrong, but now that Karolin was home, the ache of the error was nipping at Tybalt's constitution with every step, like a misplaced pebble in his balmorals.
With a subtle wave of his staff in Lawrence's direction, he invited his fastidious companion to join him away from the dining room, then slipped into the hallway.
RPG
