Miss Creme hadn't noticed that somebody had decided to sit next to her, so when Debutante Blush spoke up she had a brief look of surprise on her face, before straightening herself out, taking her feet off the seat, and placing her hands on her lap. She was about to speak, when she saw a man take the seat just one spot over from her. Her eyes lingered on him for a second, and she scooted herself closer to Blush as a chill ran down her back. Maybe it was the mask he was wearing, or just the way he carried himself, but she felt very uneasy near him. She didn't know why she felt the way she did, but the hair on the back of her neck stood straight up at the sight of him. Looking over to the Miss, she bowed her head at her a little. "It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance Miss." She said, a small smile across her face.

She looked the Miss up and down, her head bobbing ever so slightly as she did so. She seemed fairly normal, and Miss Creme wasn't creeped out by her at all, so she certainly didn't mind engaging with her. She continued to say, "Of course, I hope you'll excuse my resting, it's been quite a journey." She said, her voice soft, but loud enough to be heard. She daintily took her arm up to her face and rubbed her eyes, before bringing her hand down in front of her mouth to cover a small yawn. She supposed she could continue on fine without too much rest, it'd be rude for her to ignore this woman and not talk to her. She then realized she had never answered the Miss's initial question, and hastily said, "And yes Miss, my rest was lovely." She nodded at her, widening her smile a bit.

Cobalt's patience ran out. The smirk that had danced across his lips at the playful tone in the lady's voice disappeared in a flash. The simply stubbornness, and the bluntness, almost ironic considering the curved beak of his mask, almost blindsided Cobalt. His fist tightened, and it took all his strength to stop himself from striking the man where he sat. Grimacing slightly for an instant, he forced a smile, clearly sarcastic, too many teeth, his mouth too twisted for it to be genuine. He rose suddenly to his feet, slamming his hand against the top of the shell that half covered the man's chair. The sound was a dull metallic sound, but Cobalt didn't hear it. When he spoke, his voice was low, and dark.

"Perhaps I was wrong to ask a cripple. I can only hope that your condition doesn't... worsen during our time together. Sir."

The last syllable was like ice, almost spat from Cobalt's mouth, dripping with venom. Still barely containing himself, he turned sharply to the lady again. Nodding curtly, his voice was still low, although lacking some of it's previous edge.

"Apologies, miss. Another time, I hope."

Yanking his pocket watch from his pocket, Cobalt glanced at it, frowning as he turned to face the servant, the young man who had identified himself as Owen, and whose perch was only a few paces from where Cobalt stood. He shouted to be heard above the roar of the engine.

"Can you get this bloody thing moving? I don't know about the rest of these 'esteemed' guests, but I don't intend on freezing to death in some godforsaken forest all night!"

Sitting back down into the seat with some force, Cobalt did what he could to turn it away from the man still sitting beside him, eliciting a low rattling, although he only managed to rotate a few degrees. Reaching for his pipe again, Cobalt cursed out loud as he again remembered he had left it behind. Balling his fists, Cobalt leant back in his chair, jaw squared.

Both left and right of her there were many curious people. Prima Rave wondered about them as the scenes around her were unfolding in a manner or another and she could hear the discussions. The person who fainted was a woman. The man who carried her proposed her to still sit with him which made Rave's cheeks flush at the directness of such a proposition! But it was cold so her cheeks were red to begin with so not much difference there and there was the mask on top of that.

Then there appeared to be a confrontation brewing at the first seats... Had she heard it right? The man wanted to switch seats so they can chat and the other man refused. Well he was in his right to refuse right? He took that seat and they took the other seats so they didn't really have the proper excuses to force him or anything. That man with the horned mask at the first seat sounded scary and angry. She really didn't want to get close to him. She decided keep an eye on that one and make sure to stay as far away from him as possible when they arrive. If he was ready to almost resort to violence from something like that, who knew what could make him explode into rage!

Prima reached into her pocket and patted the pet ferret that was hiding from the cold. It was nice and calming to feel the animal's soft fur, but she couldn't wait for them to be at a warm place. The poor thing probably felt colder than her at this point. She looked around at the front of the machine and noted they were apparently waiting for more people to fill the seats or something. She wished that would happen soon so they can get going. This cold was not pleasant. At this point she regretted not dressing even warmer. Maybe a mantle of some kind would have been nice...

Opening his eyes after a quick nap, Mounte Bank was taken surprise by the number of people that had taken seats during his nap. Previously vacant seats have now been occupied by unknown figures. The chattering sound coming from others had dispersed the hushed atmosphere previously and instill some sort of fair in this hostile environment. Unknown people, Mounte fixed himself, but people, nonetheless. And among them, secrets.

But the secrets of others weren’t the most fascinating thing he found today — except for the welcoming committee — Mounte found himself to be taken surprise that he could still fall asleep during temperature like this. It seems like his body could still surprise him at this very age. That or he had overlooked how exhausted he was after leaving the carriage. Both seem to be a quite promising subject to talk with his cousins over tea time. But first, he needs to walk out of here, alive preferably, and come back to his position. Fixing his attires and dusting the shoes from whatever the weeds that he had previously step on, Mounte begins to compose conversation lines in his mind. Maybe, he could ask others to fill him up about what had just happened on this carriage.

And he did just so. Politely tap the woman next to him on the shoulder, Bank asked through his mask with the best question he could think off in such short duration.

"Excuse me, Miss. But can you fill me about what just happened? It would help me greatly."

But the confidence in him soon melted as Bank found out that he had forgotten to introduce himself. To make the matter worse, he forgot to bring the hat with him; which in turn making his right arm to look ridiculous as it tried to grab some imaginary objects from his head. The soft voice that was previously given turned to a gruff sound of self-hatred; followed by a long sigh of his inability to make the best possible impression. Letting his head to rest on one of the hands, Mounte awaits for his answer, which seems to be more and more imposing.

Debutante Blush was positively elated to have the lovely young lady "up and at 'em" as they would say. Her eyes positively glimmered in the moonlit night. "My dear, do not fret yourself. It has been a long journey, to be sure. I, myself, would love a chance to take a nap, but I would rather not chance it, just yet, as I am sure you know." Debutante Blush looked around her, noting other characters sitting along them. As she did, sparks flew when she gazed upon some notable heads. Why, this journey was proving to be quite the assortment of characters!

However, her attention came back to the gorgeous little bird in front of her. "If I may be so bold, petal, but you are quite lovely. I don't think I have ever ran across an individual with such exquisite refinement and natural beauty as you. Really now, this journey worried me at first, but having you along as a companion has certainly made this worthwhile."

As she spoke, Debutante Blush could feel a warm prod of her bare shoulder. Annoyance flickered on her face, before it was quickly remedied with a smile as she turned to face the person who poked her. The man himself posed a question to her and then reached for his head like he had a hat on, which just made him look quite silly. "I am afraid I do not know, sir. You see, I was too busy having a lovely conversation with this delicate flower next to me. A conversation, I am sad to say, you interrupted. However, I am sure our friends on the other side may know of that noise." With that, she gracefully bowed her head before returning to look at Miss Creme, "So sorry about that, petal. Where were we?"

There was a long look given to the late arriver. "That you are son." It was a simple enough statement to the obvious as Cas turned away and shook his head somewhat. The carriages that remained behind were being tended to, as were the horses. All in quick order on the outside of the gate. Leo took the mans invitation and waved him in. Everything outside the gates seemed to be in order, inside the gate however it was a completely different scenario. What was starting to unfold could hardly be described as being calm.

Seemed there was a bit of an uproar about seats and even one man taking out his frustrations on Owen. Owen narrowed his eyes slightly but gave a tight vexed smiled. "But of course m'ord, anythan' for ya m'ord," he said sweetly as he began to sit back down. Leo glanced over at Owens words.

"Owen, don'tyabe..." he said in his squeak of a voice. Owens glare turned towards Leo. Mouthing something else behind the invitations Owen sat down slowly and gave the biggest grin with a bit of a chuckle. One dog and then another started barking until they all were. Cas looked over at a portly man with long greasy black hair who was tending to one of the carriages. They seemed to exchange some words and a nod between them.

Captain Moss sat hunched over his horse, rubbing his arms nonstop trying to keep himself as warm as possible he was feeling very weak from the cold something he really wasn't all that used to. As he started to get closer towards Shadowell Manor he could see a strange contraption before him on the other side of the gate. Seeing a strange set of looking chairs as there was a group of men and women all in costume and mask just like he was. He knew that he was very late for the event, which probably didn't even look well for the others and trying to clear his name.

Once Moss was at the gates he weakly climbed off of his horse and approached the gates digging into his pockets and pulled out his invitation and handed it over towards Leo. He took the time to eye the guards counting about five of them all on horses and then six large vile looking dogs. Shuddering slightly at the thought of having the dogs attack him, Moss turned his attention back over towards Leo taking in the man's features.

Leo looked very massive way bigger than he would ever be, as Leo spoke to Owen, taking note of the other guests for a moment before speaking up finally. "I am very sorry for being late.." Moss said in between chattering teeth, as he shifted slightly where he stood his legs felt very weak like he would topple over any minute now. Seeing the many chairs were already taken by the other guests, slightly grumbling to himself realizing that being late was his own fault. He wasn't going to say anything about why he was late it was a bit awkward if he actually did say why in front of a bunch of strangers.

It seemed that there were offers for a seat from more than just him. Glancing to his right he spotted the woman with the blue hair and grinned. "Now that is a tough choice, even for me," he said with a chuckle as he scratched the back of his neck. As the new comer arrived he glanced at him and shrugged as he walked past. "Better grab a seat, they're going fast." It was a rather obvious remark and the man sat himself down in the second to last seat.

He was abandoned for less green pastures from the looks of it. "Couldn't make it through the gate on your own and you want to hold another in your lap? Now that's some funny shit," he laughed with the brightest of smiles. Shaking his head and slapping his knee. There was a long line of repressed chortles as the man got comfortable and rested one ankle over a knee. Granted his attentions were towards Kindle as the seat she wanted was taken and she had to start coming back his way. She wasn't coming back to him, she found another seat.

His brow quirked a bit as he watched. The dogs barking perking his ears. Glancing towards the gate he took notice of yet another arriving but it seemed all the seats were taken currently. "Well ain't this a hoot," he said under his voice as he scratched his chin, watching and waiting to see just what was going to happen with this bit of circumstance.

"And here I thought you were going to ignore my generous offer..." Commented Lady Lechery as the Director made her way to the seat in front of her. How fortunate for the one labeled as lecherous that the one known as Kindle, unknown to the blue-haired one, had happened to have no other option. Her ears caught onto an interesting conversation, although she managed to follow along only to the closer, more interesting half of it - it would seem the Lady's new companion was interested in having someone sit in their lap. Maybe a certain, full-face golden mask bearing woman could help her with that...

Another thing her eyes registered was an individual making his way towards the contraption they were seated upon. Interestingly enough, that individual was the sixteenth guest, and there were only fifteen seats on the interesting piece of machinery they were located on. Many things could happen, one of them being that this new guest might end up waiting for the ride to make a round and return. Probably not the most pleasant of experiences, as it was quite cold. She sunk, or at least tried to, deeper into the cushioning of the strange chair she was seated in. Her attention returned to the woman sitting in front of her.

"So, miss, now that you are seated, might I know your name?" Asked Lady Lechery, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. She half expected to not be given a real name, but even an alias would suffice. One needed to know how to call those with whom he spoke.

She had no idea what to make of this happy group of people, not to mention someone had decided that he was going to be late. The nerve of some people, the invitation had said when to arrive, so what made him think it was alright to arrive late? On top of that, there was some sort of commotion going on towards the seats in front of her, something about whose sitting in what chair. It was a dumb argument from what she could hear, but there was nothing else she wanted to really do regarding it. These people really needed to figure out what they were doing, but it made for an entertaining watch if anything.

The people near her weren't very interesting, at least when compared to the people somewhat far away from her. The group at the front fighting over a chair was definitely entertaining. She listened to the group near her, the conversations about what had happened or something to that effect. It did not really matter to her, nor did it really concern her, all that really mattered was what was likely to come. Penance had no interest in starting any sort of conversations with anyone, she was more intrigued with the idea of listening, and hearing what others were saying. They were definitely the entertaining sorts for the most part, aside from the people near her who seemed to be a little boring in her opinion.

Madam Mauve's attention, which had been a bit divided while she obligatorily awaited whatever response the doctor wished to give, suddenly snapped back over to him. Her eyes, the only thing one could see of her face, seemed to darken like an impending storm over a deep blue sea. Had she heard the man correct? She believed she had, and it brought out something rather unsavory in her. She was about to open her mouth to speak when something the woman behind her said caught her immediate attention. She spun around to face the woman. "No one asked for your opinion," she hissed through gritted teeth, before rounding back on the doctor. Her words were better articulated this time around but nonetheless had an ice quality to them. "Perhaps I should have made my words clearer to accommodate an idiot like you. It wasn't a suggestion, sir."

She then pulled away, taking a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth as she reined herself in. She sat back in her seat, lacing her ankles together as her gaze looked past the doctor. She watched as a seething rage seemed to burn from the inside out in the man in the devil mask. Devil, indeed, she thought to herself. There was an imperceptible glint to her dark eyes as she unflinchingly watched the man slam his hand against the doctor's chair. Though his actions were a relatively subpar display of aggression, his words surely cut much deeper. Had her features not been hidden by her mask, one could perhaps get a better idea of what the madam was thinking as she watched the man closely. When he turned his attention back to her, she gave him a once-over before speaking. "It would be my pleasure," she replied smoothly, the true intent in her voice hard to decipher. She gave the doctor one last pointed glare before she seemed to turn her attention elsewhere. However, out of the corner of her eyes, she still watched the man. No, not the doctor. The man in the devil mask.

Professor Walnut raised an eyebrow at the lack of reply from the fainter and she smirked slightly. However, the silence and serenity she had hoped to achieve were all for nothing, as there was a calamity towards the start of the line of chairs. She shut her eyes briefly for a moment, breathing in and out of her mouth. They had hardly been there for much more than half an hour and already, quarrels had broken out - yet she supposed it was simply human nature to seek out fights. At least there were no more lewd and suggestive comments to listen to - she hardly cared for that sort of talk.

"Thank you," Walnut said curtly, eyeing the fainter. She then heard the sound of hooves, yet as she turned and craned her head, even rising slightly out of her seat, she couldn't identify the source. They could have been coming from any direction. Her eyes caught the guard for a moment. Tilting his head to the side he just grins and goes back to his book.

Having not managed to ascertain the source and hoping that events would move quickly, Walnut relaxed back in her seat, and a moment later, she had fallen out of her seat and hit the ground, landing on her rear. Yet while most would have likely been preoccupied with the chance of a bruised bottom, Walnut's eyes went skyward, as the eighth chair - with the fainter, otherwise known as Director Kindle - still stuck in it! It was like Kindle had been turned into a celebratory firework as she continued to climb higher and higher towards the heavens, reaching an approximate twenty feet in the air.

"The poor thing..." Walnut murmured, as stunned as she was by the sudden aerial escapade of the fainting woman. She had such remarkable bad luck, it would seem. Yet Walnut's chief concern wasn't so much Director Kindle's rise as it was her eventual and inevitable fall. That would certainly result in more than a bruised rear...

As Master Tack took his seat, glad that he hadn't been left behind by this strange device, he was no longer in a rush, and thus, he had a perfect opportunity to take measure of his surroundings and, more importantly, his companions. The small woman ahead of him was already engaged in conversation with the woman ahead of her, and unlike the man further on still, Tack had the sense of propriety not to interrupt them, but decided he would introduce himself to the small one later. Instead, he turned his focus to the eccentric sitting behind him.

A thin man of reasonable height wearing black and red would draw no particular attention, let alone suspicion, were a person described in such a way. But should a person be described as a thin man wearing a beaked mask and muttering in poetry to the raven on his shoulder, it would garner a different reaction entirely. And due to the human tendency to notice the most worrrying elements of a person's character first, it was the latter description that Tack's reaction to the man fitted best. Though he did his best to view this person with objectivity, it was almost impossible not to take an immediate dislike to the man. Tack felt that anyone deserved at least a single chance, though, and so quelled his fears as best he could and spoke to him.

Turning to face the raven-faced eccentric, Tack came up with another verse to his, on the fly, matching the tune to the best of his ability in a smooth voice, but not one accustomed to or particularly skilled at singing:

"I took the seat second from last,
Then heard a voice behind my back,
I turned around to face the singer,
And thought it best that I should linger!"

Miss Creme's eyes hovered on Blush, her smile widening as she spoke. Nobody had ever really spoken to her that way this woman was, it it just made her feel good to be respected in such a way. She blushed at her compliment, and said, "Thank you Miss." She made herself comfortable in her seat, forgetting all about the man who'd troubled her so not moments ago. Something about this woman made her feel special, and she desperately wanted to keep talking to her, to be her friend. A brief look of distress crossed her face when she the Miss turned away from her, during which she finally noticed the way she'd been referring to her, as if Miss Creme were a flower. That was endearing in a way, if a little strange. When she turned her attention back on Miss Creme, her face still had that look of concern, but it quickly melted back to relief.

"Would, um, you like to spend this night with me?" She said, and her face reddened quickly, rewording her sentence, "I mean, this is surely going to be an interesting night, I'd hate to go through it alone. Having somebody by my side would certainly make things easier." She said, smiling at her hopefully. She wanted to keep spending time with the woman, and as bold as it was to ask, she felt it necessary to do so. This could be a great opportunity for her to make a new friend, and while she couldn't quite place why, she felt like Her and Blush would just make the best of friends. She was used to being around women of relatively low class, and Blush seemed to be quite of opposite of that, holding herself in a high regard. Maybe that was why she was so taken with her, surprised that a women of status wanted to even give her the time of day.

Another is raised up;
Lifted too High!
Mistress who sits on the top:
Let her beware of chair!

Slinking behind like a lagging tail, a shadow no doubt, the pair watched keenly as the chairs above them squabbled like insolent children. Were their heads so full of fat that they were perfectly insulated against the cold? Yet his attempt to slip into the background was not unnoticed. His little eye did spy a saddled sneer, jauntingly grinning with a glaring gaze, dauntingly perhaps to inspire fear but he remained unfazed. A short little man puffing hot air, but worthy of note as he sat in his chair, as the sound of uproar caught the birds aware. It seemed far beyond their reach something had happened, and the ex-passed-out traveler was now up and about, perhaps tiring of that brutish villain as they sought another chair. And more so it appeared another petulant guest had plopped his black-masked face in the penultimate chair to deny her. A shame truly, but the game of chairs had no end as from what he could strain to tell, no such exchange was made between the doctor and devil. And the temper of the haughty man, oh he screamed for attention didn't he? The first to bark orders at the staff so eagerly. It is the squeaky wheel which gets the grease...

Oh but what is this? Another jester? Playing at puns and riddles, the rhymes sloppily done. Twas the late comer who had the gall to mimic him. His attention and that of his companion's turned away from the faint sound of hooves trampling the road as a pair of eyes and an eye stared intently at the grey irises of the blonde. Such mockery no doubt, that he come late and hold up the rest of the party. It was cold, very cold, and neither of them enjoyed wasting anymore time in this bitter limbo. Was there another to come? Such were the whispers and commotion. Chairs it seemed were a rare commodity, a fact worthy of note as perhaps the Ambesire wished to eliminate them one by one by one, piece by piece.

You speak without caws or crow,
Without rhyme nor reasons sing,
Now I must beg of you to know,
What ill fortunes do you bring?
Perhaps wait for warmer climes,
Before exchanging our rhymes.

A flap of wings and cawing, ruffled the feathers of his raven friend. The two of them intently staring at the man making idle conversation. There was no need for this conversation, at least as far as he could see such chatter could better be had indoors. And with any luck, this conversation could cease.

Dr. Swamp flinched slightly as Cobalt slammed his chair. So greatly did the man desire this particular seat, that he would not-so-subtly threaten further injury to a man with whom he had just made acquaintance, all for the sake of settling his posterior thusly. Truly this must be a chair worthy of princes and principle landowners; a seat of High Priests, a refuge where only the noblest of asses might seek respite. Perhaps this man was wronged somehow by the use of the chair. Dr. Swamp gave some tiny consideration to this possibility, be it purely from an academic point of view. He had no intention of moving until such time as they were supposed to disembark at the Manor, period, and continued insistence on the matter merely provoked him to dig in his heels further.

Case in point, the lady who had insisted upon sitting a seat away from the rather angry fellow, who had now seconds ago insisted that "by all means you may remain seated", now loosed her venom upon the good Doctor. Beneath his mask, an eyebrow raised at being referred to as an idiot, of all things, with the assertion that her speech should have been phrased with greater clarity to account for the forementioned lack of intellect. Like the words of the man to his other side, the doctor felt it was a crude inarticulation designed to elicit a response. Well, far be it for him to disappoint.

Dr. Swamp began to chuckle to himself. For the sake of manners, he cleared his throat and stifled the outer showings of his mirth. "And yet the lady fails to see the breathtakingly simple solution to everyone's benefit. How quaint that an idiot like myself has managed." The chuckle returned again, this time halted by a wince as he shifted his leg slightly, accommodating a more comfortable position for his walking cane.

His peripheral vision caught upward movement, demanding a turn of the head to better ascertain the nature of this new development. One of the machine's chairs had inexplicably become airborne, and was fast taking Director Kindle with it. "...this assuredly worsens her prognosis..." he muttered, shaking his head. Nothing to be done about it now. Returning to his own immediate surroundings, he said aloud (and to no one in particular), "Though I so hope we have the same seating arrangement for supper this evening. Marvelous." From somewhere in the vicinity, the Doctor heard the sound of horse hooves nearing, but the prevailing noise around him prevented a hard and fast location. He braced himself for whatever fresh drama would befall him next.

The mercurial nature of social gatherings often annoyed Dr. Swamp. This day was a fine example.

Seeing the fire in his would-be companion brought a slight smile to Cobalt, and the smoothness in her voice when she spoke to him reminded him what was important. He felt his annoyance dissipate slightly, cooled by the chill in the air, and he relaxed slightly, pulling his coat tight around himself and breathing onto his hands, enjoying the temporary heat even as his breath turned to mist. Above the roar of the engine he could half make out the response from Owen, the sweet tone and pandering words set him on edge slightly, but the mood had passed and he didn't make any retort of his own.

In a brief respite of background conversation, Cobalt could just make out the sound of pounding hooves above the roar of the engine. He turned slightly, allowing the chair to swing back to it's natural position, but he couldn't make out the direction from which the noise was emerging from. The voice of his neighbor, the target of his emotion just moments ago, caught Cobalt's attention. He raised an eyebrow slightly, hidden beneath his mask, as the man seemed to focus his response towards the lady rather than towards Cobalt himself.

From Cobalt's position, he had a full view of the contraptions chair as it suddenly launched into the air with its occupant still aboard. With any sound being drowned out by the engine behind him, he watched the chair as it seemed to silently climb through the cold, evening air, the scene almost surreal. The voice of the man to his side cut above the engine again, and Cobalt couldn't help but smile slightly.

"It seems like there'll be a vacant seat at dinner regardless, unless the suddenly risen member of the party happens to know how to fly."

Madam Envy had an amused look under her ornamented mask, her head shook slowly from side to side. As if the earlier display of politeness and manners had been inevitably lost along the way it seems after being denied by their simple request. Amidst the trivial muddle, Madam Envy turned her stare back to her earlier observations, looking across to the conductor who was now exchanging words, with curious and suspicious intentions Madam Envy could only reckon. None the less she should speak no more, adding to her breathing difficulty and as to not make it seem that she's involved in this petty and idiotic rabble.

Her perceptions lead the sound of hooves approaching from a distance, though the chatter amongst the guests made it difficult to discern where it was coming from exactly. More guests perhaps. Or probably an addition of guards. Good, she thought, hoping that it would be the latter just what they need to keep things in order around here. Not like they need any more entitled dunces to add to the petty quarrel. Amidst Madam Envy's personal musings, she bolted upright from her relaxed demeanour at the sound, turning around and shifted promptly to shock and confusion when her attention darted towards the sky. But more specifically to the object that so happened to fly above spectacularly by their very eyes her eyes squints at the person still strapped to her seat. Her face drew into a mix of confusion, amazement, shock, slightly half from hearing the nonchalant reactions from the others. "By Ero's rigid prick, am I seeing what I think I'm seeing?" With this junk for a vehicle, no matter how quaint it may seem, they might expect to lose a few limbs along the way after all.

A chair, seemingly spring loaded, had launched itself into the air. This much was known. At the engine, Owen hadn't noticed as of yet but Leo had. His jaw going slack. In a high pitched voice, that nearly sounded like a little girl screaming, he yelled. "You didn't!?" Owen seemed to be a bit perplexed and turned in his seat. His eyes going back, he noticed the now missing chair. Eyes traveled upwards as his jaw traveled downward. The chair climbing higher and higher into the air. It must have reached its apex at nearly 100 feet. How the woman in the chair was reacting at this point was anyones guess. All one could see in the darkness was the slightest flickering gleam of light reflection from the copper metal beneath the cushion.

"I didn't!" Owen finally mustered to say. He was sure of it, yet when he looked back towards Leo and away from the guests, there was a questioning look in his eyes. "Did I?" He seemed to doubt himself. Rubbing his short gray mustache, Cassius stepped back through the gate and next to Captain Moss as he observed the scene. Owen's head turned over to Cassius. "Did I?"

Clearing his throat, Cassius shook his head. "No lad, you didn't," he said casually as he took a step forward.

"You know, what goes up," a guard who had yet to speak before this said, the shortest of the bunch as he edged his horse back several steps. The other guards on horseback doing the same. The chair had reached as high as it would go, perhaps the body did as well. Either way, what goes up....

Prima Rave felt still quite uncomfortable here. This was rather unusual situation to be in all things considered. Never in her mind would she have considered that she'd be at such a place like Shadowell Manor and especially non getting carried on a contraption the manner of likes she had not seen before! She had seen engines before, but something like this was new! Who made it! Why were they using it to simply ferry guests around? What manner of good work could a power like this be used for? All questions she had no answers to right about now.

Suddenly something happened that she found rather... probably not supposed to happen. One of the chairs went up in the air. Dammit it went high in the air! She could only watch at it as it was going up and up. Then naturally as things tended to do when they were going up it was starting to go down. She panicked right away and hopped out of that chair as she ran away from it as she had this feeling it was heading in the direction where she was seating.” Nonononononononooo!” She repeated in a scream as she ran.

She made it to the road by the chairs before she finally turned her head around to check what was happening behind her. She was feeling a chair like that falling down was not going to be a nice thing to happen for those involved.