It had been a long journey and one that had been far too delayed. An ornate carriage with a single driver dressed in black controlled the reigns. The breath of the horses rising as they pulled up to the locked gate. The man reached back and the door swung open. A woman dressed in a corset and tights gave a moved lithely down the steps and to the ground. In her hand a smaller instrument case and a leather satchel in the other. She shivered in the cold, how foolish of her to forget to wear warming clothing but she had been in a rush. The man hopped down and took a trunk from the top of the carriage. Both walked towards the Gate. "Excuse me, please if I may," she said lifting her chin and projecting her voice as the man accompanying her walked up behind her, towering over her small stature. Yet, the way they walked she seemed more present than he.

Cassius looked towards the gate and rode his horse over. "If you are here for the group you are late." His voice was harsh and scolding.

The womans chin did not lower, her shoulders squaring as she stood there. There was a nod and then she spoke, kindly and remorsefully. "Yes, I know. Our carriage broke a wheel. My man here worked as swiftly as possible. I apologize and should you not let me through, it would be no ones fault but my own. I beg of you though Sir. Do please allow me to enter." She stood there in anticipation but surprisingly enough perhaps, Cassius motioned for Leo to unlock the gate. "Thank you a thousand times good sirs," she said as she handed over the invitation and her man handed over the trunk. He left. She did not.

Once the gate was closed and locked behind her she made her way quickly over towards where others were sitting. Owen motioning to take a seat. She smiled under her mask, it barely being seen. Her shoulders hunched slightly as she found a seat as best she could, away from those that were already seated. Resting herself down she lay the satchel in her lap and the case a top of that. Goosebumps raised on her exposed arms as she crossed her ankles. Lowering her head, her hair fell to cover her face and mask. Breathing slowly and waiting.

You fly back to master now,
Little Raven.
Fly, fly, fly.
Fly, fly, fly.

A flicking backstroke on the back of his feathered friend signaled the permission the ravenous raven sought. As the men gathered and kicked about the littered pieces to their final resting place, he could deny his partner no more. The bird flew off after the scent of a fresh kill, leaving the harlequin alone with the other man ahead of him. Though now their seats had turned into benches, and if his eye did not deceive him, did the lady ahead of the man faint? Tutting and shifting himself about, he adjusted himself to the rotating seat, resting his back against the bench. Can they get a move on already or will they be just as cold as their meal?

Bloodied beak tore away at the scraps of flesh. Black feathers baptized red, as the raven buried itself into the remains. An early meal to gorge over, but in the midst of it all, an unblinking eye spotted the gleam which beckoned the curiosity. Paused mid-meal to investigate the lustrous sheen that caught its eye from pecking out the liver. Hopping over to the sheen, parted beak like grasping fingers, tugging away until its prize came free. Taking wing the raven returned, fluttering from past the treetops ominously before perching on the right shoulder of its partner and paid tribute the shiny, bloodied locket from its sharp jaws. A lovely locket, quite a steal.

A sudden and striking sight came into the otherwise horribly disinterested Dr. Swamp. It was a vision masked in wispy, worked steel, her attire and voice serving only to accentuate the qualities, both obvious and ethereal, that which extracted the normally antisocial Doctor from his immediate concerns. "I'd give up my chair for that woman." he observed quietly, to himself. It was more of a revelation when he realized that it was most assuredly true; not only would he give up his chair, but, "I shall give up my chair for that woman." Again, too quietly to detect by those around him, partially because there was no one really around him, but it served to embolden his decision nonetheless.

Taking up his stout walking cane, Dr. Swamp pushed himself to his feet. He leaned heavily upon the stick, yet still managed to cover the space necessary to bring him closer to the woman who had influenced him to leave that which he was so amazingly sarcastic to maintain, and just by her arrival. Exhaling a breath from under his osseous, avian mask, he took some presumption in seating himself next to her. "Madame, manners and sociability are not my forte. I tend to be offputting when I ought endear. It is a curse. Instead, unless you object strenuously," he pulled a sketchpad and drawing utensil from his inner vest pocket, "I should wish to draw your likeness. It is solid rarity that I find someone who impresses me as much as myself. The occasion demands recording by a hand as noteworthy as the subject of said record." He made the first arc on the blank paper before halting, enunciating words as if they were unfamiliar, "Might I, ...please?"

There was a sparkle in the mans eye as he listened to the whisper. "You darling just made this trip worth it," he said jovially before giving a wink to the woman and tightening his grip around her waist. A grin grew on his lips as he looked at her innocently enough. "Wouldn't want you to fall when we start moving." Yes, it was a completely protective moment to keep his arms around her. It wasn't like he couldn't do the same with a single large hand on her small frame. It was better safe than sorry. Anything could happen.

The moment was interrupted by the fact that someone sat right down by him. RIGHT next to him, shoulder to shoulder. He turned his head left and then right. So many chairs and he sat right there? "I'm Titian. She's claimed. And your the type that doesn't give a man the courtesy of a an empty urinal space between you do ya?" he said with a laugh. Sure he didn't have her name yet but he didn't care. She was in his lap.

Attention wanted to go back to her but once again it was disturbed as another person showed up and walked by, followed by a man that had examined the now ejected member of the party. Hopefully the rest would take a seat quickly and they could get out of cold. Not that he minded so much but he did have this pale creature he was protecting. Pulling her closer he snuggled her up as best he could. "Warm enough lass?" he asked, finally able to turn his attention back to where it should be focused.

She had wondered what would likely happen with the seating arrangements, with the unfortunate even that had happened to Director Kindle. There hadn't really been any seats left, but it was clear that they had a solution to the problem when everything shifted to benches as opposed to chairs. It was an interesting thing, seeing that machine move like that, it certainly was full of surprises. She looked around at the seating, before she decided to see about a chair near where she had been before, and took a seat, though she made sure not to sit too close to the others.

Penance noticed the new woman who had shown up to the party, late of course, and how they weren't too far away from one another in terms of seating. Of course, the man who had made such a big deal about sitting in a specific chair had moved towards this end of the train, so there was that little bit of a nuisance, but it couldn't be helped. She relaxed slightly in her new seat, glad that she didn't have to worry about moving a dead body out of the way, or with the grime and blood on her chair. No, this was definitely a lot better in terms of what she was sitting on. Who after all would want to sit in the blood from a dead woman's body? She certainly didn't.

Captain Moss stared at Cassius for a moment and then Owen as well, he really did believe that all of the chairs would end up doing that eventually. But he remained standing as he watched the chaos that was unfolding, some of the people were scared and some jumped out of their seats and got down on the ground again. While the others remained calm, He shifted slightly uncomfortably as the armed men were then told to get rid of the mess that was created. The chair was removed along with the body of whoever the woman was, he still didn't know any of these people at all yet.

Captain Moss watched as the chairs were all then suddenly shifted into a large bench that was enough to fit just about everyone, they were all getting ready to leave and Captain Moss decided to make his way now towards the seats and climbed on. He stopped for a moment looking over his shoulder seeing a carriage coming over. Then a woman came over and was eventually let in, Moss watched for a moment before taking his seat next to the woman as well. Captain Moss took a moment now that he was closer to everyone else as he looked at the other people that were there.

Debutante Blush was a bit taken aback that so many of the others were checking in on other parties while she stood there. She huffed a bit. The night was young still though. Especially when wonderful new people joined them. And the lovely thing that came after the whole ordeal with a chair of all things was definitely one Blush wanted to get to know better. It seemed others did too, but Blush took solace in the fact she would be able to offer the woman something the others could not.

She followed back with the others to find a new seat. "I do hope these chairs don't rocket off into space like the other one did." She sat next to Miss Creme, knowing full well she had won the girl over for now. "Are you doing all right, petal? That whole thing wasn't too much for you, was it? I know I was pretty startled, myself, but I believe the worst has passed. We should be prepared for what awaits us, after all, for that may be just a bit more troubling."

As the mess of blood and limbs that had once been Director Kindle was cleared away, Master Tack's mind began to return to functionality. He blinked a few times, and his eyes focused again. He released his grip on the chair, and slowly returned his hands to where they had been resting before. Equally slowly, he leant back into his seat, freeing his back from the uncomfortable, perfectly rigid position it had just been in. He swallowed and adjusted the position of his left sleeve slightly, checking that it matched the right, and was back to normal, except considerably less mentally comfortable, just in time for the chairs to rotate into a bench.

Tack decided he needed some conversation. With the woman on one side occupied once more with her companion, and the man on the other unlikely to be the kind to be comforting in this or really any situation, Tack felt he was sitting in the wrong seat. He got up and moved along, closer to the middle of the bench, and sat down next to an attractive woman in an excellent black and red dress. Oddly, but quite amusingly, this matched his own colour scheme, and he smiled kindly but politely as he took the seat next to her.

Good evening, my lady," he said, speaking seemingly with a slight deferrence. "My name is G-" he stopped himself there, almost forgetting not to use his real name. The 'G' was pronounced like a 'J', as in 'gentle' or 'gyroscope'. -Master Tack. If it wouldn't displease you, I would very much like to sit here, next to you. Where I was, the company is excruciating dull. Something tells me you won't be the same." The smile on Tack's face had changed from polite and kind to somewhat playful.

Hair falling over her shoulders, Amaranthine sharply looked out straight in front of her as she felt someone sit down next to her. Her large cinnamon eyes wide as she remained bent and hunched over, clutching the items resting in her lap. She had but a moment ago sat down and there was no one even within spitting distance of her. Now there was someone. A blink of the eye and they were focused to her left. She spotted the bare hands holding a sketch book and drawing utensil. Another blink and her head tilted just enough to see the mask covering half his face. Her eyes flickered some what but she nodded in agreement. "If you desire so, I am not one to stop you." Her words seemed to hold a staccato rhythm to them as she spoke.

While her attention was towards the man whose mask extended to nearly brushing the back of her shoulder, she felt another come close and sit down. Her head turning sharply and looking over towards him. Still ever remaining hunched over. This one in white with a black mask. Her hear turned back to the first, black with a white mask. Slowly she pushed herself up and sat straight backed in her seat, hair falling over her shoulders as her fingers curled over the case in her lap. It was a stark contrast to the silver of the mask. A chill ran up her back and she shivered violently as a cloud of breath rose up from her lips, that wear painted the color of dark spices, as they parted.

As if Kindle hadn't been irritating enough, the cosmos seemed to conspire to find more annoying individuals to congregate near her and the giant. The first one she spotted was the woman who insisted on being helped to her feet, sitting about two spots away from her and her colossus. Then her friend - perhaps her gentleman - walked down past them and stopped, talking with the coughing woman near the front of the train...yet seemingly, his brain must have ceased working, as he sat down right next to them. She could reach out and poke him in the eyes if she wanted to.

All combined, it was thoroughly ruining her enjoyment of the moment, with the warmth of Titian's lap and embrace helping to combat the elements. There was a delicate smirk on her face as Titian said that she was claimed - but what if she wished to be the one that claimed him? Titian, though - it was a fitting name for the titan, yet she didn't imagine that it was his true name by any means. She just hoped that his true name wasn't anything boring. It would be such a letdown if his name was something plain, like Bob.

"You should move," Walnut remarked coldly to Cobalt, staring at him with her almond blue eyes. "A gentleman would, at any rate, of which I have no doubt that you must be one."

She then turned her head, her platinum blonde hair falling over her shoulder and creating a symbolic curtain between herself and Cobalt. "Yes, quite warm, thank you," she responded curtly. She hoped that they got moving soon, as much as she enjoyed this marvelous contraption of Owen's. "You may call me Professor Walnut," she whispered to Titian, her hand accidentally brushing against his knee.

The glass of water that was requested was ignored. It wasn't as if they were going to keep the rest of the guests there to rush back to the very manor they were about to be taken to just to bring back a glass of water. It would take twice as long to get the glass of water as it would to get them to the manor. From the look of things, everyone was seated and ready and there was nothing holding them back now. The newest arrival was there and it was time to head out.

Yet that would have to wait a moment. It seemed that one would not be joining them. He had moved away from Chair 11 before and had not yet taken a seat back now that the chairs had transformed into a long bench. Moving he had a word with Cassius quietly. Cassius rose a brow but shrugged and had the gate opened. He left quickly and without another word. Taking a moment to wait for the gate to be locked once again Cassius turned his attention over to Owen.

"Owen," Cassius said from the back of his horse. The man nodded and the engine sped up. The machine started going in reverse, pushing the line of what was once chairs backwards and down the long path that was lined on each side with thick trees. It was impossible to see past them considering there was no more day light and the evening light was even darker than normal as clouds were covering the sky above. The machine ran smoothly over the tracks and slowly the large manor came into view. The guards riding along side it with the dogs jogging along with them.

It was quite the sight. Old, made of gray marble and stone. An imposing looking structure, it was nearly two wide at the front and stood nearly fifty feet tall with rows of windows lit up from behind thin curtains. At the top of the stairs that lead to the front door stood a tall thin man with slicked back salt and pepper hair in an ornately designed suit. His pasty skin enhanced with the back lighting from the lanterns on either side of the door behind him. On the balcony above him stood a tiny sight all of white. Hair, skin, clothing, mask, and little wings. It watched from above at the train as it stopped.

"Welcome to Ambeshire Manor. The Lord of the manor wishes to speak to you," the man said as he seemed to stare them down from his position above them.

"Oh toot that horn," Titian said after Walnut seemed to give her two §era on the matter. He grinned broadly at her and nodded. "Oh yes, a tough nut to crack aren't ya." It was a teased but a playful one. the train finally started moving after someone decided they apparently didn't have the stomach for this. Oh well, one less person to worry about in his book. Holding tight as the engine caused his shoulder to shift and press more against the one known as Cobalt. The man really should have slid over a seat. Nothing to be done about it now.

The bench was holding everyone well enough and no one else went skyward. Turning his head he watched as the manor came closer and closer. Another jut and it stopped. Looking up he spotted the white above but turned his attention back to Walnut in his arms. "Alright Professor, class dismissed," he said with a wink as he stood up and set her gently down on the ground. Offering her his arm before proceeding to stroll towards the bottom of the stairs where the at the top the old man stood addressing them. He hoped she would take his arm but if not he would walk nonetheless. Even for him it a was a bit cold out.

"Considering we're here, I'd hope he'd want to see us," he muttered under his breath. Looking up he grinned and rubbed the bottom of his whiskered chin.

Miss Creme nodded meekly at Blush "I'll be fine..." She said, slowly righting herself. "It was just so unexpected." In truth, though her heart was longer pounding, the whole affair seemed to be more exhausting than even her trek there. If the rest of the night was like that, she wasn't confident in her ability to endure. Her head was clear, however, and the dizziness subsided. Perhaps she'd be better off if she spent more time with Blush, she seemed to take the ejection much better than she did. Hopefully, she could be a source of strength for Creme. She smiled at Blush, "I couldn't quite imagine anything worse than that happening tonight."

As they came upon the manor, Miss Creme kicked her feet a little in her seat, watching the ground move beneath her. It was pretty cool, seeing it move the way it was. As they came to a stop, she turned her attention towards Owen, only for it to be quickly torn away to the new man up at the top of the stairs. He was dressed quite well, and as he informed them that the lord of the manor was about to address them, she looked up towards the balcony. In all her life, she'd never seen anybody dressed quite as he was. The all white attire was certainly a statement, but she figured he was just a little eccentric. She eagerly awaited for him to inform them exactly what would be happening tonight.

Just as they were to leave, there was yet another person who arrived. She was late, but sounded like she had a proper excuse and a fair reason to be so. Prima Rave looked at her for a moment, but turned her head around and focused her eyes on wrinkles of her trousers! Mostly because wind was picking up and looking up was a sure way to have your eyes feel unpleasant.

The journey to the very manor took a little while and frankly it wasn't the most pleasant of travels she's had. Going alone on a horse would have been more preferred, but no. The whole thing jerked violently when it started moving and then the cold started seeping in again as the adrenaline, from the death of that woman, passed. She felt just so cold, couldn't speak nor look around for the others, nor hear if they were making any sounds since she was closest one to the engine and it was bloody loud. She threw a few glances at the guards who were riding by them, they had their dogs tagging along. It was frankly a scary situation to be in. She didn't like being surrounded by hounds and armed men.

Focusing on standing the chill and the rain, to the point she barely managed to pay attention as they were eventually at the destination. The manor was impressive, she had to admit, but it was difficult to put that into words as the thing jerked into a violent stop. At least there was no rocketing seats. She did notice she was the one furthest away from the Manor though. Guess it was her fault for picking that seat. Rave then decided to take in more of the manor's look and state. She had to admit it was probably the most impressive thing she's seen in her life so far. Then her eyes fell on the man who spoke. She felt innate tinge of fear, she didn't like how he stared them down. Her eyes wavered until they found something curious. There was someone...something? Probably someone small all in white clothing, skin, hair and all. She really wanted to notice more, but being as far as she was in the night it was near impossible to see details so she only got a vague and mysterious sight of curiosity.

Mauve's gaze slowly gravitated back the direction she had come from, wondering if a certain someone had chosen to join her. There was a glint in her eyes as she saw Cobalt choose instead to sit with, of all people, the woman reeking of tobacco and hacking her lungs out. Her head tilted a bit to the side as she watched the way he interacted with her. She barely held back a scoff and a roll of her eyes at hearing his exclamation of "concern." The sly devil, she thought amusedly. "Well, it's your loss then," she murmured. Her gaze shifted past him as a new, and very late, arrival appeared just beyond the already closed gates. She watched with interest at the exchange between the guards and the woman, only able to interpret what was going on via their body language since the roar of the engine drowned out their quiet conversation. To her surprise, the woman was allowed entrance. She didn't take the guards for suckers for a sob story, so the woman had to have a certain charm to her. My oh my, incredibly intriguing.

Her pupils dilated as the woman approached, and her gaze followed the woman even as she passed Mauve by. She shifted in her seat, leaning her body weight forward as if she was considering getting up, which she very much was indeed. Something about the woman, maybe the fact that she had presumably charmed her way passed the guards, intrigued her greatly. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but did it really matter to her? Hmmm, let me think. No. Movement, albeit slow and hobbling, caught her eye for a split second. She glanced over and watched with annoyance as that chair hogging bastard went right over to the woman. More than that, he looked like he was practically fangirling over her. Stalker much? she thought. She made to get up, planning on coming to the poor woman's rescue, when another man suddenly sat down next to her and started talking to her.

Mauve glanced over the man's shoulder but otherwise relaxed back into her seat as she let him share his piece. His words and mannerisms ended up piquing her interest enough for her to stay put for the time being. The other woman could wait, hopefully. The corner of her lips, which were obscured by her mask, twitched upwards. "It would seem you have a good eye, sir. It would be my pleasure to make your acquaintance. You may call me Madam Mauve," she replied smoothly. She grimaced as the contraption they were sitting on suddenly jerked backwards, and she bit back a nasty remark at the lack of warning that was given. After righting herself in her seat, she pulled her coat tighter around her as the wind picked up, the cold air biting at whatever exposed skin she had. She tried to say something to the man who had called himself Master Tack, but it became quickly apparent that the engine drowned out any such attempts to make conversation. So, she impatiently opted to do the only thing she really could at the moment, which was to take in her surroundings.

She glanced around with distaste at the guards and their mean looking dogs, before her gaze turned towards something much more intriguing, the Shadowell Manor. It was truly a sight to behold. A look of approval flitted through her eyes. "Oh bite me," she suddenly cursed as their ride came to a jolting halt. That is really starting to get annoying, she thought to herself, before recomposing herself. She slid off the bench seat and smoothed out the fabric of her dress. She glanced back over at Master Tack, giving him a onceover, before her gaze faced forwards and upwards slightly as they were addressed by a man.

"With your permission, of course." responded Dr. Swamp as he put graphite to paper. He began directly where he had left off, at the one grey arc he had made before securing her say-so on the matter. It was a curious sensation for him, wishing to be within one's presence and taking steps toward not offending. Concerning such matters of giving offense, the good and charming Doctor would ordinarily lead others out to a grand field, wherein one might grow a bountiful crop of Fucks. Yea verily, he might call upon said people to gaze upon the field, and see that it was barren. Nary a Fuck to be had; nary a Fuck to be given. Such was the nature of Dr. Swamp. Why this occasion was different was fully beyond him, but he considered it quite the anomaly.

The lines continued to accumulate across the paper, even as the great machine began moving the newly formed bench up the iron rails and toward the manor proper. The initial jerk of the engine's startup took the Doctor slightly by surprise; while he was able to lift pencil from paper before his image was ruined, he did shift to one side, making unintended contact with the lady to his side. "Pardon." he said coolly, readjusting himself in his seat. He spent the remainder of the time on the seated, steam-driven mechanical whirligig putting lines to paper, smudging as necessary for effect, and giving the occasional glance in the direction of his sketch's model. He did not even notice the proximity of the main house until the machine came to a stop, such was the attention to detail of his work.

As fate might have it, he lifted from the last stroke a split second before the sudden jerk of brakes took hold. Dr. Swamp had the forethought to set his leg at a braced angle, anticipating a stop that was at least as eventful as the start. Not that he wouldn't mind colliding with the woman to his side, but it would not look right for him to accidentally run into her a second time. He took the moment to review his sketch. Dr. Swamp had really outdone himself this time. Really. There was a depth to the image that seemed to capture the not only the tiny details, but the emotion of the moment, and put it all in a relatable, favorable light. For artistic purposes, he had captured a glimpse of the woman's soul, and committed the image to paper.

After the thin man spoke from the stairs, announcing the intent of the Master of the House, Dr. Swamp spoke quietly to the lace-steel masked woman who had served as artistic muse, "Would you like to keep it?"

Madam Envy cleared her throat for a second as a she tried to take control of her coughing. The woman mentally scoffed at the masked devil's comment, interpreting it as a form of pity. And Madam Envy wasn't about to get the appearance of a frail middle aged lady in a lot most probably composed of her juniors. She rather blames the weather for her reoccurring frailness, as opposed to her tobacco habits that may have already started taking a toll on her. But among anything else right now, she could really use that water.

Unfortunately for her, their request fell on deaf ears. Envy at least returned the man's polite gesture. He was civil enough to be concerned, she'll at least give him the pleasure."Charmed. You may call me Madam Envy."her eyes glimpsed at the people next to him, and wondering why one prefers mounting the other where there are enough seats to sit on. It's their own personal business, she thought, Envy is not one to judge after all.

"I say, the service here is quite substandard so far." the woman made herself comfortable from her seat. "The poor choice of waiting area, faulty transportation system, a woman being shot in the air for us all to witness, " she slowly shook her head mockingly "And they cant even fulfil a simple request of water." she quips, of course she's well aware that they're technically prisoners in decorated disguises.

Madam Envy briefly noticed the 'woman' who would sit next to her. Looking much more closely, she's confident enough to tell a woman in a dapper suit. Could say she's well versed with a woman's figure, being one herself of course, among other factors. Nonetheless, She didnt seem to care about her presence and Madam Envy is not about to engage in the first move and returaned her attention to Justice Cobalt. But as they arrived the Manor it looked way grander than Madam Envy initially envisioned, very much enthralled by the gorgeous architecture momentarily ignoring the man who addressed them after their arrival.

Cobalt could hardly ignore the hulking figure that occupied the seat beside him, but with his shoulders turned, he thankfully had his back to him. This, however, did apparently not dissuade the man from interjecting. Cobalt glanced over his shoulder, raising his eyebrow slightly beneath his mask. Perhaps the man was as thick-headed as his frame would suggest. He'd hoped his extended hand to the woman on the other side of him would have been clue enough to who he was addressing, and the idiom that followed was one that he had admittedly never encountered before. Regardless, he ignored the man, turning back to the woman as she spoke.

He smiled, nodding his head politely as she introduced herself. He couldn't help but smirk slightly at her name, hoping that the emotion of the same name was at least leaving a pang within the heart of his earlier companion. This feeling, of course, was turned on it's head as Cobalt glanced over his shoulder again, looking past the impressive bulk of 'Titian' in time to see another man quickly take their seat beside her. The only boon he could take from the sight was her name. Madam Mauve.

His own neighbor, Envy, began to speak again, and Cobalt turned back to her, smiling politely. He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, but their transport suddenly burst to life, jerking forwards and quickly building speed as it carried the seated guests through the frigid evening. The cold air whipping past, and the roar of the engine itself, drowned out any hopes of conversation, and Cobalt reserved himself to sitting back and pulling his coat around himself against the chill. When the manor did come into view, it certainly did not disappoint.

Rising to his feet, keen to actually make it to the manor itself, and inside away from the dark and the cold, Cobalt hesitated, turning to hold out his hand to help Envy up.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Madam Envy"

He paused long enough for her to take his offered assistance if she so desired, before turning back to the Manor entrance. Several of the other guests had also alighted from their transport, and he found his eye caught by Mauve yet again. Taking a sharp breath of the cold air to clear his head slightly, Cobalt began to stroll forwards. Having to walk nearly the length of the train to reach the foot of the steps, he took a moment to inspect the other guests. In particular, he found himself inadvertently looking at the particularly stubborn gentleman from earlier. It seemed that he had become more lax about his seating convention, and indeed even seemed to be drawing the particularly striking woman sitting shoulder to shoulder with him. Cobalt smiled. Most intriguing. Regardless, he did find himself stopping beside Mauve, holding out his arm as he grinned.

"Care to walk with me? I wouldn't want you falling again"

It seemed she had attracted the attention of yet another. "Chanteuse Amaranthine is what I am to refer to myself as." It was a simple statement in a wobbly but silvery voice. Eyes turning downcast she braced as the engine started to speed up. Body tensing as it lurched forward and a chill running to the bone as the freezing air pushed over her skin. It was hard to hold still. The moving train, the chilled air, the wind. That and more made it for a rather miserable next few minutes. Someone was trying to sketch her so despite all this she did her best to remain as statuesque as humanly possible. By the time the train stopped her teeth were chattering.

Trembling she turned to face the one that had been placing her visage to charcoaled memory. It was an astounding representation and seemed to capture how she was feeling despite the mask. "Remarkable," she quavered as her fingers took the paper. "Thank you ever so much." Large doe eyes locking with his as she expressed her gratitude before slipping it delicately into her satchel, it laid on top pieces of sheet music. Closing it swiftly she rose and gave a nervous smile before turning and tottering towards the manor.

Eyes turning upwards and then back at the man addressing them. Her ears picked up what others were speaking but she simple stood there clutching the bag to her chest with one hand and the other grasping at the instrument case she was carrying. Others might have had no issues being in Shadowell. Perhaps they were too self involved, perhaps they were braver, perhaps they were shallow. Many appeared to exude some sort of assurance. Chanteuse Amaranthine did not. Fear was worn openly beneath the mask even as she stepped closer to the stairs. A thought tickled the back of her mind but she was far to distracted by situation and circumstance to pay is much attention. Keeping her mouth shut she waited for them to be allowed into the manor itself. A desire to be out of the cold could be a powerful thing when warring against other things that should have ones attention.

I had been sitting alone, on tram-track,
through a singularly dreary tract of woodland;
and at length found myself,
as the shades of the evening drew on,
within view of the melancholy House of Ambesire...

Not quite the warm welcome. For the cold was as brisk to the bone, as was the bitter business by the herald. No warmth radiated from the manor, the dark majesty of its presence only caused a shudder in the ominous mind. Large and imposing, the sight emerged from the woods as he was the first to bask in the gloom. The illuminated windows were the hundred eyes of the great beast staring at its meal with unblinking sight, the steps were wicked teeth and the doorman a black tongue. And there upon the balcony with what his eye could see the glaring gaze of god lording over the hopeful. The wisps of wind and moan of machinery came to a heavy halt as the distance was covered before the Ambesire Manor, to which he held briskly on to the ruffled feather of his fowl friend and the new locket pocketed away.

The others behind him had paired off it seem, into couples already though the devil-faced man seemed to be the lusting partner. The other men had their chosen their women, courting perhaps as the doctor and the latest lady flirted about each other. The brute paired off with a girl, the devil flitted between his three, and the lucky one spared from meeting a raven's dinner was trying his luck with someone no doubt. Thus of all the the gents here, it appeared the raven carrier was coupled with his raven. And with a stretch of his legs the master rose from the bench, a hand brushed the bird at his right shoulder towards his left as he bent his head down. The raven in turn shifted, tiny talons hopping across the upper back and nestled to the man's left shoulder and preened its dried bloodied beak. Feet planted on the familiar floor, fleeing from the doohickey device of death, he tilted his head towards the left ever so slightly. First amongst the guests, but hopefully a stranger he would stay.