So, Lady DeVespe and this drunk guy just... He internally slapped himself. Not his business.

[@BSwizzle]
	It seems he's a tad rusty with controlling his power, only having used it to move with his wheelchair for a long time. Steeling himself to exert full power, he lightly elbowed the taffrail again, this time intent to hurl DeVespe's second guard's entire body towards Barbara.

	Barbara... that's a woman's name, right? That's a woman?

[@spiral origin]
	With this distraction, he gave back the white card back to Lady DeVespe. "[color=fdc68a]I just can't ever seem to get anyone to accept my help. I hope it's not because you think I'm helpless.[/color]" He reverses his wheelchair while looking down. Seems like he's trying to measure his spot. He looks back at DeVespe. "[color=fdc68a]Good luck.[/color]"
	His wheelchair tips over backwards, and it would seem like he's falling, but instead he fully submerges through the wood floor like it's made of water, leaving no trace.

[hr]
	There he was, hanging upside-down from the ceiling of a closed cabin below the deck. He took this moment to ponder on the nature of that card. He was sure of it, traces of mana on the card just before he took ahold of it, possibly to show hidden text solely for Lady DeVespe...
	Maybe if he was a mere seconds earlier, he could've read it.

	Actually, what was up with the card itself? He thought it'd be parchment or a sheet of wood but no, perfectly cut and folded sheet of... It seemed like linen but it shone in the sunlight like silk. It maintains its shape... hardened by light heating? The words seem to be seared onto it, so maybe, but what nice design.

	His mana pool is beginning to suffer from this prolonged mid-air suspension, and so he began rolling towards the wall, and down the floor. What was that name in the card again? The 'proprietor' of... a fashion business? It was at the start of the card... Oh, wow, the air in this room feels so dry, it's unusually pleasing... Come on, focus. "[color=fdc68a]Sme... Smothering... no..[/color]"

	As his wheels touch the floor, he stares straight at this... gorgeous woman? With the red hair and deep v-neck black dress... "[color=fdc68a]S...mouldering Ember.[/color]"

	His head slowly tilts right, until his back just falls onto his chair, and his arms completely limp off the armrests. For someone who can only move by using mana, to waste his mana on spells like that, how reckless. Sounds try to come out of his mouth, but only in incoherent pieces, barely syllables, until after a moment. "[color=fdc68a]Can I stay in... this room for just a little while? I can't move, my mana...[/color]"

	[@wierdw]