Anna went over to where Nathan stood discussing vague details of their plans with Lewis and Contessa. "I have to get back to the Ashes, the others are waiting there for word of our progress. And I should get back to my brother at some point before this night is over...."
"Of course, Anna," Nathan replied, "we'll be just behind you, after we've gone over a bit more of this. And do let them know that the pub is no longer safe for meeting of this sort anymore, not with the Technocrats watching it as I'm sure they will be now."
She left, sneaking back into the shaddows halfway between worlds, so that if she could be seen at all, it was as nothing more than a faint shadow drifting across the wall as the clouds of smoke passed over the moon. IN time she arrived at Wonderland's Ashes, and found the table of increasingly drunken dwarves. "We have him, and we're to be scarce here. Too many Owls about these days...." She turned to the bar, about to order a drink, when a man she had never seen spoke to her.
"Excuse me, girl, but how much do you charge?"
"I beg your pardon? I do nothing that requires me to have a price. If you're looking for a night of tossing in the loft, you might try over at taht table," she said, indicating where the other night birds waited, hoping to attract attention.
"Yes, but none of them look right, I want you instead."
"And your desires, then, mean that you may turn an honest girl to a whore? I think not. Besides,' she said, taking in his bedraggled state, "I don't think you could afford any of the girls here. Most of them have standards, and are not likely to take on a charity case." At some point, she noticed, Nathan, Lewis, and Contessa had entered, and were watching the exchange with various degrees of interest. Lewis looked uncomfortable, Nathan looked amused, and Contessa...well, looked like Contessa. Anna could never really tell whether her emotins were genuine, with her face painted to conceal any sort of blushing, and features schooled into a faintly amused, faintly bored, cynical beauty, as her default expression. Any conversation she made seemed like an act, with her face as a prop.
"Payment is not an issue, he said, indicating teh massive piece of marble behind him.
"A rock. You wish to pay with a rick? And what, pray tell, wold I do with that?"
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