Rainblade-Ryalors Private Zann's Alley/Backyard Girls' Night Out

[Dusk Rainblade]

Dusk finished brushing her lips with a viscous paste from a tin labeled 'Crimson Sunset', frowned, pursed her lips a few times before blowing a kiss at her mirror, then grabbed a rag and wiped the lipstick clean before reaching for another tin labeled 'Aubergine Dream'. She'd tried on four shades so far, including the one she was applying now, and hadn't been satisfied with any of them, but the deep, rich purple was the closest to the shade of the form-fitting, shoulderless evening dress she'd picked out. Getting into it had required more shapewear than she'd liked, including a herringbone corset beneath the rich velvet; she'd last worn the dress a year or two after she'd had Alwyn, and it was dismaying to realize how, despite her best efforts, carrying five kits had wrought changes on her body that no amount of diet and exercise could undo.

She finished repainting her lips, puckered experimentally at her reflection, then grabbed a small dab of pomade and carefully worked it into the headfur between her ears, delicately styling the curl thereof. She knew if Talinn saw her making this much effort, he would assume she was off for a not-so-secret tryst. A part of her, the bitter, jealous part, wanted him to believe it. She backed away from that line of thinking before it could uncap the well of ugly sentiments in her gut. It's just a girls' night out, she reminded herself. No need to be getting too fancy.

Not that it was just any girls' night out. Convincing Orina to go out with her was only ever a matter of arranging their schedules, though that, since the latter's ascent to a ministerial post, had been difficult enough. Getting Tanya onboard, and in so doing adding the complication of the BlackShip's voyages to plan around, had made it a prolonged endeavor to find a time that would work for all three. Still, eventually, they had made their plan. They would meet at the Lonesome Breve, a lounge in the lower Zann's Backyard that was so exclusive that its staff denied its existence when questioned outside its walls. Fortunately Dusk had an in with a former Misanthropy employee who was now in charge of event programming, and she'd booked a private booth for herself and her two closest friends (is it pathetic or heart-warming for your sister to be one of your closest friends, Dusk wondered) for that evening. Apparently the evening's entertainment would consist of a monitor lizard musician performing a new style of music he'd composed on an instrument of his own design, an amalgamation of hollowed crab shells conjoined using brass fittings and fitted with a stunning array of keys and valves. Dusk's contact had promised that, after ten minutes of this so-called 'kavophone', the femmes would be guaranteed the whole bar to themselves.

Dusk double-checked her purse, making sure she had an adequate number of gilders in one pocket and her favorite stiletto in the other (as well as enough cosmetics to recover from any unexpected indignity), and finally took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. It was time. She reached marched to the front door of her mansion, undid the twenty locks and bolts holding it shut, and stepped out for her first night out in months.

 

[Tanya Keltoi]

Whether she called her home the tropical, sedate climes of Kutoroka or the grubby chaos of Bully Harbour’s Imperial Docks and Harbours, the rhythmic swish of ocean tides breaking against sand or stone always sounded the same to Tanya. It was a comforting constant in her life, one of few she had come to hold dearly: any time work called her away from the sounds of the ocean she found sleep difficult to come by and the silence deeply unnerving. Silence, after all she had come to equate to her other job. The calm before the kill.

From her dockside office the ocean could still be heard. It went some small way towards assuaging gathering anxieties whilst she added her own contribution to the soundscape courtesy of the wash basin in her office. She dashed her face with water and closed her eyes. Tox couldn’t remember the last time she’d had an actual girls’ night out – if ever she had indulged in such a thing – and what should be such a simple social occasion quite suddenly felt more dreadful than a court martial. This was Dusk’s territory, and though there had been something of a renaissance between the sisters there was a nervousness which still lingered. Perhaps it was the social expectation, or the depth of friendship between both Ministers – her superiors – which left her feeling off balance. Perhaps it was all simply a holdover of feelings from the mess of the Opera House: after all, that was the last time the three had come together to meet. At the very least it seemed to have worked out well enough and Orina, by all accounts, had taken to the position with as much ease as an otter to water. Jeshal had his own duties to attend but had been made well enough aware of when she expected to be back by: old habits did not die so easily in the city, after all.

Once dried with a quick scrub, she took a glance in the little mirror. As she combed her fur into some semblance of respectable order Tanya squinted closer at her weathered reflection. A few new silvery hairs seemed to be peeking out in the fur beneath her eyes, above the freckled spots. Ugh. Her nose twitched to think on the joke Kiptooth had made on Kutoroka once all of his fur had come through silver and grey; how poorly she’d handled the reality of seeing her closest companion age. She’d spent several days in high bad humour like some aggrieved teenager as a result, railing against the natural order of things with petty, almost violent, temper. It was ridiculous really: all ships went to the yard eventually and death was an old friend, but that had seemed cold comfort at the time. At least I’ll suit silver an’ white, I suppose.

Such matters were not to be dwelt upon for too long. No sooner had Tanya turned from the mirror the matters of her mortality slipped from her mind as she set about getting dressed. She did not deliberate long: the cleanest linen blouse she could find and a Kutorokan wrap-skirt would suffice, along with some fresh braids in her long neckfur and the more presentable trinkets from her collection. Gilder pouch and Dark Judge Brushes found a home in the sash at her waist, beneath which sat the ever-present poisons. A quick rake-through of her headfur with her claws was all she needed before electing to get out of the door before she changed her mind.

The journey to the Lonesome Breve went some way towards calming her anxieties, as a good walk often proved. Indeed, by the time she was nearly at the appointed location she begun to consider not only the amusement to be had in a night without expectations, but the chance for some mischief. Dusk would likely need to take point on getting their booking considering the nature of the venue, so Tanya elected to pause around the corner to the Breve and wait there with eyes and ears alert for signs of her companions. Considering their fraught youth she had never truly seen Dusk properly drunk, and even at this age she felt a childish desire to see what might happen. Perhaps she could get Orina on board with an opportunity for the Ministers to relax on public perception in the comfort of a private booth.