Janaxia took a slow, steady breath, focusing her magical powers to pull her outfit into position, making sure everything was in order. Would it really be so hard for her companions to pay her attention (and compliments) for once? It had been quite some effort to acquire, to say nothing of ensuring it fit correctly, requiring either magical powers or several servants to properly don. Instead, Stathis was nothing but critical, saying that she looked like a cult leader! As if any cult leader would dress with such style and verve – most were grubby little degenerates, grubbing around for anyone desperate enough to believe their lies, without any interest in the finer things in life beyond a petty, vulgar venality. And their ‘style’ rarely extended further than drab robes. Even the guide here would stand out amongst such a rabble, her robe of fine cotton, belted with an elegantly chic sash of green and silver (that also served to highlight an attractively trim waist), far beyond the reach of any petty cult!

Although at least Stathis had put some effort in, managing some amount of dash and swagger in a well-cut suit, not entirely unsuitable for the occasion, her blonde hair tied up into a crown braid. The trousers could stand to be a touch tighter though, maybe some golden piping down the side. Semari was as scruffy as ever though, hair looking as though she had hacked it short with a knife, her clothing, well, sturdy was the most polite term that could be applied, an utterly disappointing lack of style. A shame really – there was decided potential there, but all gone to waste.

From the look on Stathis’ face, she hadn’t been expecting to see such finely-rendered carvings, imitation of course, but depicting a number of famous romantic scenes from history and legend, gods and heroes enjoying their revels. Even Semari showed some interest, looking at them intently as they passed. Likely more interested in their prurient appeal than the true history, but it was a start.

The place had been refurbished somewhat since she had last visited, the grand doors (previously plain, banded wood, more reminiscent of a fortress than a place of pleasure) having been replaced. The detail was exquisite, a copy of the Rapture of the Golden Band rendered in full detail, even including the officially banned 8th panel. Then some mechanism pulled the doors open, a scent of agarwood drifting past, a flamboyant display of wealth.

The décor inside was certainly gaudier than Janaxia could truly consider tasteful, but the Khem’s business must be thriving, to support such a place. And Lady Kamarni was present, showing the breadth of their appeal. Although quite why she seemed to want to associate with Semari was a baffling mystery – it was entirely possible to have someone save one’s life and not fawn over them! Thoughts of the mysterious angel from that tiresome affair with Karilimanath’s hoard flashed through her mind, before she dismissed them – the being hadn’t been seen since, and her companions refused to talk about it. In other times, it might have been worthwhile greeting the woman, but there were other affairs to deal with, she her face seemed drawn and taut, likely a sign of poor luck at the tables.

Anef and Asai were both as well-dressed as ever, even managing to make their altered arms appear stylish, having the confidence to show them off rather than try and hide them. She introduced herself, mercifully managing to find the words without having to reveal her own ailment. She sat down, a careful use of her magical power tugging her outfit into a position flattering when reclining, making sure she was presented to her best advantage. And of course, Stathis, with all the grace one would expect of the nouveau riche, almost ruined the moment entirely, asking if they were running a murder cult.

Did she have to be so crass? She was talented with a blade, to be sure, and her mother and sister were both impressive figures themselves, but Stathis did seem a touch lacking compared to such luminaries. And of course, there was the mystery of who her father was – Carissia was the product of an ancient and noble bloodline from her patriarch, but rumour had dogged the youngest Iristari for years. Not that Janaxia held truck with such gossip, of course, but it was decidedly mysterious, even if likely banal.

And now Stathis was threatening to sic Carissia on the place, as Janaxia accepted the drink she was offered. Aged Gauthaut, brewed from rare slimes, themselves fed only the finest grapes, refined and processed over decades, the drink smooth on her palette. She smiled at Anef, as Asai and Stathis came to an agreement, wondering if they would stay long enough to renew their acquaintanceship. Considering the events of the last time they had seen each other, where the pair had gained their unusual markings, they seemed remarkably affable; she had done what she could at the time to explain what she could the events of that night (which had, as far as she could tell, been entirely out of her control), but had feared they might be less accepting. As long as none of the rest of her family wished to use the house, then it should be acceptable to stay.

Violence and action suddenly erupted, as everyone drew weapons and starting swinging for each other. Janaxia tried to look appropriately shocked and distraught, portraying what she imagined an innocent young woman caught up in such machinations would look like. And then Stathis quite ruined the effect, hauling her off the couch, quite undoing elements of couture. Could the woman never deal with a situation without resorting to violence?

A guard charged at her, club held high. Janaxia gestured, hitting him square on, and sending him flying downwards, out of sight. He really should learn to read the atmosphere – this was simply theatrics, rather than anything to get excited about! Although the sounds coming from downstairs, where Semari had leapt to, indicated things were rather more serious, with likely some property damage.

‘Stop! She has a hostage!’ Asai shouted. Janaxia found herself yanked backwards, a sword suddenly against her throat, even as she managed to activate her magical powers, an invisible aura of protection snapping into existence around her.

‘Stand your men down, or I’ll cut her throat!’

That Anef was just barely holding back laughter cut almost as deeply as the potential danger to her ensemble, as Stathis’ fumbled around, hand running over her body, overly reminiscent of a drunken noble whose ardour had outpaced their tolerance for alcohol.

Do please fumble less! Try and show some class, if it isn’t too much trouble?

Stathis grumbled something back, lost in the general sounds of chaos.

Backing down the stairs was complicated, much like dancing with a far less skilled partner, who didn’t particularly want to cooperate, and could cause considerable harm if things went awry. Still, they somehow made it down without Janaxia getting her throat slit, as Stathis tried to solidify her grip. Janaxia focused her magical powers, making sure nothing inappropriate was displayed, as a bronze disc shot past them, clanging on the far wall. While there was a certain frisson in having her vision forcibly restricted and being forcibly unaware of quite what destruction was being wrecked out of sight, it was also decidedly inconvenient, especially if she happened to be struck herself!

Asai slowly advanced, blade at the ready, face serious. ‘You will regret the day you crossed us. There will be a reckoning, and it won’t be to your favour!’

It was a simple thing to slide her hair loose and make it flick and toss around, hopefully the very image of a young ingenue, being troubled by some rapscallion rogue, forcibly pressing their suit above their station. ‘Oh, please help me, I have been captured by this rough brute of a knight!’

‘Stay back, or I slit her throat!’

At least try and make an effort, Stathis.

The woman sounded as though she were bored! A little emoting wasn’t that hard, especially in these circumstances. Stathis continued to move backwards, Janaxia now having a better sense of her movement and steps, as they moved back Semari, surrounded by a circle of downed guards and wrecked furniture.

Semari, even worse at dramatics than Stathis, just shrugged and slowly sauntered towards the exit with them, even giving a cheeky wave to Lady Kamarni as they passed. Janaxia tried to catch her eye, but she only seemed to notice Semari. Some people, despite their nobility, really had no taste.

Eventually, they were outside the casino chamber, doors clanging shut. As the blade moved away from her throat, she turned to give Stathis a piece of her mind, before strong hands encircled her waist, Stathis simply hoisting her up and throwing Janaxia over her shoulder, as if she were just a sack of food, then running for the exit. It took all Janaxia’s efforts on keeping her outfit from attaining a level of dishabille entirely beyond what was appropriate for such a place, meaning she couldn’t make her opinions on the matter heard, even with her telepathy. While some rough treatment could, on occasion, be entertaining, this was quite beyond the pale! She bounced on Stathis’ shoulder, air getting pushed from her lungs with every stride, an overly firm hand on her derriere keeping her in place.

When she was deposited back on the ground, it took her several long moments to collect herself, thoughts inexplicably hazy. She settled for simply glaring at Stathis, trying to put the full force of her disapproval into a look. From the lack of response, the woman was entirely insensate to the insult she was responsible for, as she led them away, through a thoroughly disgusting network of alleys and backstreets, until they were safely away.