Realistic or Modern Summoning Trouble [Closed]

[Tarmagon]

"I'll leave a generous tip," Kyle promised, moving to the bathroom long enough to grab a towel to dry his torso with. Grabbing his clothes, he ducked into the bathroom long enough to shed his pants and pull on underwear before putting his pants back on. He hadn't missed the subtle gleam in Esme's eye, nor her embarrassment when she had taken in his torso, and while it made a strange little flutter dance in his core that she found his form pleasant to look upon, he didn't want to press things and make her uncomfortable. Maybe in the future. He was pulling on his shirt as he came back into the room, just in time for Esme to hold up her phone.

"How good is your Russian?"

"Well," Kyle replied, "My spoken Russian is pretty good now thanks to those language lessons on MP3. Written, not so good. That could be... Hmm. I wonder. Let me think for a moment."

After several minutes of thought, Kyle looked up with a 'eureka' look on his face, and grabbing his wallet, headed for the door.

"I'll be right back," he called over his shoulder as the door swung shut behind him.

Moving quickly, Kyle headed to one of the numerous shops that dotted the cruise ship. Looking around , he spotted what he wanted, making a couple of purchases using the card holding his winnings from the casino, then quickly retracing his steps back to his and Esme's room. Esme looked a little put out, but she kept her silence as Kyle emptied the contents of his small bag onto the bed, Two pairs of something called Ray Ban's spilled out, as did two thick books bearing the title Russian to English Dictionary. Kyle nodded to himself, then set one pair of the glasses atop each of the books. Settling himself comfortably on the bed, he turned to Esme.

"You may contribute Power to this Working if you wish," he said. "I should be able to accomplish this little thing, but your help is always welcomed and appreciated."

Kyle leaned down, pressing one hand over each glasses/book pairing and closed his eyes. Power began to build around his hands, a glowing mist reaching out to obscure the objects of his attention.

"Hvet sem ykkr. Lita til ykkr vita," he intoned, then switched to English. "Only the first hand will you obey. Only the first hand may know you for what you are. You will conceal your nature from all others. This is my WILL. So shall it BE."

The Power flared brightly, then faded to reveal only the glasses remained. Kyle picked up a pair that looked slightly more masculine than the other, and gestured for Esme to pick up the other pair.

"They will only work for the first person who picks them up," he explained as he donned his own and looked at Esme's phone. The syntax was a little odd, but he saw English words on the face of her phone where before he saw only Cryllic symbols. "And while they might not be the best solution, they are quick. They will allow you to see English words rather than Russian."

Fable (Demonic translation glasses, engage.)

 

[Fable]

Tarmagon ( Agent Periwinkle infiltrating the Bratva. )

Esme wasn't exactly sure what Kyle planned to do with the dictionaries and glasses. She figured the dictionary was for just then going word by word to translate the stupid page, the glasses she had no idea what that was about at all. Then when he started talking about her contributing her Power to whatever he was doing she titled her head slightly to the side. "Maybe not since I'm not exactly sure what your grand plan here is... and if I help I have this image of something making an explosion." While the image was funny, she worried with that on her mind it might actually happen.

So she opted to sit down next to him and look over his shoulder. She was silently grateful for the English he used since she had no idea what he had started off with. When he was done and all that remained were the glasses themselves, she carefully picked up the pair of glasses that had been intended for her. When he explained how they worked switch in her brain flicked to understand the spell he had cast upon the items.

Esme put the glasses on and then looked at the phone in her hand that Kyle was glancing at while donning his own magically changed glasses. Sunglasses inside was silly, but when she looked at her phone now she didn't see Russian, it was poorly written English, something you'd see from using Google Translate. It worked just enough to give you an idea of what was written, but wasn't exactly grammatically correct.

"D-Did you literally just make us Google Spy Glass?" she laughed out in great amusement. "Now I guess my code name is just Periwinkle. Wear formal clothing to everything because it totally doesn't stick out, speak in a suave manner," she continued. "The button press to information enter," she said out loud as she read from her phone. "Some mighty fine Engrish right there." She ended up leaning against Kyle somewhat as she busily tapped away on her phone to get their train tickets sorted out.

They hadn't be bought since there could have always been some sort of delay or a need to change their plans. She tried to find a trip that would give them enough time to have a taxi take them from the pier to the station without giving them hours upon hours of being stuck waiting. Once she found one that seemed to fit that requirement she forwarded the confirmation to Kyle's phone so he cold scan he own digital ticket at the station when the time came.

"We should totally put more languages on these," she said casually as she lowered her glasses down the bridge of her nose so she could playfully waggle her eyebrows at him. She wasn't exactly serious on the suggestion, but it would be fun to be able to just look at the local language and have it roughly translated.

With her task done though she spent - or rather wasted - most of her time browsing Russian sites and testing out the glasses. It was distracting and amusing enough that she wasted a few hours doing this up until they needed to get ready to go to their planned entertainment for the evening. Since it was formal Esme opted for a simple black dress, not to be confused with the trope 'little black dress' this one was long and went all the way down her body. She used a bit of magic to form a small matching clutch which she jokingly put the glasses in and mentioned needing it for 'spy stuff.'

Honestly, she probably looked more like a Bond villianess more than anything in the dress.

The Murder Mystery dinner went as expected. Someone during dinner had been 'killed' - basically one of the cast members was on the floor atop some red cloth to simulate blood - and the guests were expected to sort out the murder. However the twist was when everyone had been seated they had been given a small card in an envelope which gave them a role to play. Nothing crazy, or at least that was what Esme assumed since she was given the role of the murderer. She had some directions to try and pin it on someone else in the room.

Honestly she failed at her task, not for a lack of effort, but rather she really did seem to pass off for a Bond villianess because nearly everyone was suspicious of her, even as she tried to feign ignorance and put the blame on someone else. Eventually she was discovered and had to reveal her card after 'clues' that were left or given hinted towards her. After it was all said and done she got free dessert for being the bad guy; classic New York style cheesecake. She offered to share the spoils of her reward with Kyle since she wasn't sire if he'd ever had it before.

The next morning the ship had docked at the pier. Esme had on her 'spy glasses' as they left since everything was mostly in Russian. It was a bit chaotic getting off the ship and grabbing a taxi that awaited their fares. After finally getting a taxi to take them to the station and with the traffic they only had about fifteen minutes to rush through station security and get to their train before they missed it and would be stuck waiting for the next one.

Made it they did though and for the next eight hours they would be on this train heading for Moscow. The closer they actually got to their destination the more nervous Esme got as she was being reminded of the reality of where they were going and who they were seeking out. She'd be told to go to a particularly fancy hotel in Moscow by Ardyr'e to begin their quest in getting an audience with the mafia. They owned this particular hotel and while Ardyr'e had initiated some contact for them, it was mostly up to Kyle and Esme to figure out the rest of this madness.

"Looking at the photos of this place, it's definitely marketed for the super rich and famous," she sighed out then looked at her casual clothes. "We should make a stop somewhere before we go there, maybe change to fit in more or something." She was really trying to plan properly for this, they were supposed to check in and then around the late evening make an appearance at the casino and go through a particular... well ritual would be the best way to describe what had to be done.

They'd have to play some roulette at a specific table and call out specific numbers and colors to 'summon' one of the mafia members to them. "Remember how I said I was taking a break from drinking? Maybe I should start again," she moaned out unhappily.

 

[Tarmagon]

"To address each statement in order," Kyle said seriously, "We are travelers arriving via cruise and train. Save for the obscenely wealthy who travel exclusively in private, certain expectations can be lowered upon arrival."

Kyle gestured at his own ensemble which could best be described as 'business casual' in the states, as well as Esme's neat slacks and shirt. He had prevailed upon her to eschew her typical jeans and a t-shirt, pointing out that they were playing a part, and trying to look as least like their old selves as possible. Esme had finally acceded with a grumble, but they hadn't attracted so much as a second glance on the trip to Moscow. Now they were just part of the flow of business suits, casual dress, and obvious tourists, with nothing to mark them out as anything out of the ordinary.

"And while it would perhaps bring you temporary solace, I love your company sober. Not to mention how happy your liver is currently. And," Kyle's voice turned soft and serious, "If you need to use your Power, you will need your mind to be sharp. Now, let's go check into the fancy hotel run by one of the most infamous groups of mafia in current time."

Kyle didn't wait for Esme to reply, instead looking around. There was a regular taxi stand, with a rather motley assortment of vehicles waiting for fares. Off to one side however, sat several dark vehicles, each with a well dressed man or woman standing near the drivers side door. Turning to the porter he had retained to manage their luggage, Kyle spoke in rather passable Russian.

"I would be most pleased if you could procure us suitable transportation to the Ritz my good man," Kyle said. "While nice enough, eight hours upon a train has me wishing for rather more, refined travel."

"At once sir," the man replied, and darted away, heading directly for the parked vehicles Kyle had noticed. He spoke quickly to the first car in line's driver, and came scurrying back a moment later as the driver entered his car, a black Cadillac of a model Kyle didn't recognize. In moments the driver had pulled to a stop where Esme and Kyle waited, coming around to open the back door with a bow while the ported loaded their luggage into the trunk.

"To the Ritz sir?" the man asked as Esme slipped into the car, "And what is your preferred language?"

"I am new to Russian," Kyle replied, "Though I know enough to hold a polite conversation, it is not my first language, and I would not subject you to my inevitable errors."

"Very good sir," the man replied. "I will be happy to use English, or Russian if you wish to practice on the drive. It will take about half an hour with current traffic."

Kyle gave the porter a rather large tip, which resulted in a huge grin and bow from the man before he returned to the train station, and Kyle slid into the car beside Esme, allowing the driver to close the door behind him.

"I think our mode of arrival will more than compensate for any deficiencies in our wardrobes," he whispered to Esme before the driver re-entered the vehicle. "So, just relax and enjoy the ride."

"I am Agasha," the driver said as he slid into his seat and started the car. "I will see you safely to your destination. Please feel free to enjoy the champagne if you wish, and I will be happy to answer any questions you might have about our fine city as we travel."

"Thank you Agasha," Kyle replied. "I shall practice my Russian with you if you do not mind."

"Not at all sir," Agasha replied.

The rest of the trip was spent with Kyle and the driver conversing in Russian, dropping back to English when a particularly interesting landmark came into view. Agasha pulled the car to a stop in front of an ornate building, complete with spires shaped like onions.

"I'll get a bellman for you," Agasha said as he opened their door. "I can bill to your room..."

Kyle silenced the man with a gesture, then passed him a couple of bills with a raised eyebrow. Agasha looked at the bills, then bowed to Kyle before dashing into the building. A moment later he reappeared and opened the trunk to load their luggage onto a wheeled cart pushed up by a young man in a smart looking uniform. The young man pushed the loaded cart to a small side door while a white gloved doorman opened half of an ornate glass double door for Esme and Kyle. Kyle nodded to the doorman, then led Esme inside and up to an exquisitely carved desk manned by a striking young woman in a dark pants suit.

"Welcome to the Ritz Mr.?"

"Jenkins," Kyle replied without batting an eye. "Samuel and Esmerelda. I believe we are expected?"

"Yes sir," the woman said after consulting something behind her desk. "Suite 414, comprehensive package. All amenities included and five thousand US dollars worth of casino chips will be waiting for you when you visit the casino. May I see your ID?"

Five minutes later Kyle and Esme found themselves alone in a suite best described as palatial. There was a bedroom, dining area, office, and a bathroom with a walk in shower big enough for a football team, jacuzzi, and soaking tub.

"Well, we've certainly moved up in the world," Kyle said after the bellman left with many thank you's for Kyle's generous tip. "Now what?"

Fable (Demon is trying to keep attention off Esme.)

 

[Fable]

Tarmagon ( I-It got really long, so I stopped ;-; )

Esme nearly retorted that they were in Russia and drinking was literally part of their culture. It was meant as a joke, but given her current anxious state her tone would probably come off as harsh and ruin the joke. While she knew his final comment about going to the hotel run by an infamous mafia was probably done in a lighthearted manner, it didn't do much to help ease her worries. Honestly, how does one even actually deal with any mafia group? For all she knew there was some sort of mafia etiquette that had to be followed.

Kyle arranged for their ride to the hotel. Esme felt envious how he could so easily adapt to these strange circumstances. Just being in a foreign country was weird enough for her. As much as the glasses she wore helped her figure out the signs, the native tongue - while very attractive - made her really feel the beginning of culture shock. She got into the black Cadillac that Kyle had sorted out for their trip to the hotel, sliding back onto the well maintained dark leather seats.

Thankfully the driver was bilingual so if she needed to ask some sort of question she could without having to do the stupid foreigner act of poorly speaking what little Russia she'd picked up - mostly swear words - and English and hope the message got through. She glanced over at Kyle when he whispered in her ear that their mode of transportation should basically make their presence fit better to those who were usual guests of the hotel.

The ride she spent staring curiously out the window. The driver was kind enough to speak in English for the interesting landmarks and spots. They weren't here on vacation, but she would have liked to explored the city at least for one day if they could. She wasn't sure when she'd get another chance like this. She could also send pictures to Liz and...

No, she couldn't. Liz wasn't supposed to know where they were. The only thing Liz knew was she was in New York dealing with the Seal and her mother. She felt a twinge of guilt in her gut for being silent towards Liz. In a weak moment she took out her phone and sent Liz a quick text saying she was fine, asking some casual questions about what trouble Liz had been up to since she'd left, and so forth. There wasn't much time after the text that she got a reply from Liz who was practically blowing up her phone with messages asking what had happened since she had drunk dialed her and a slew of other questions.

Esme's face flushed and she hastily fumbled her phone in her hands till she managed to put it on silent mode though the text messages were still coming. Okay, maybe that was a bad idea and she should have texted her some other time. For the entire ride to the hotel Esme was exchanging texts with Liz doing her best to omit certain details. By the time they arrived at the hotel Esme was ready to chuck her phone out the window, but she managed to just text Liz that she had to go and would text her next time she got a chance.

"Next time I'm just replying with memes," she muttered under her breath at her phone.

Esme got out of the car when the driver opened the door for her, her eyes curiously taking in the design of the hotel. It was what she believed was classic Russian architecture. It was much more intimidating in person as she looked around at the employees and guests. Kyle handled the driver and luggage with a bellhop loading their luggage onto a cart and followed them into the hotel lobby. They went to the desk and Kyle checked them in under their false identities. Honestly, Esme did not look like an Esmerelda. However, she was going to have to adjust to that name, which thankfully could allow her real name to be a nickname.

They were led to their room by the bellhop; suite 414. She wasn't sure what to expect, but when they stepped in her mouth opened, which she quickly snapped shut since the bellhop was still there, taking their luggage off the cart. He gave them a general overview of the hotel, their room, and once done Kyle gave him a generous tip before the young bellhop scurried away, leaving Esme and Kyle alone in a hotel room that could have passed as an actual penthouse apartment.

"T-This is way too much," Esme managed to say after standing there awkwardly taking in the room. "I'm terrified to know how much this room costs." She turned to Kyle when he asked her 'now what' and glanced at the analog clock on the wall that probably cost more than a year's rent for renting her half of the apartment back with Liz. "Well, if we want to appear as normal people, the time being what it is we could go to the restaurant for dinner then the casino. I need a shower though after traveling all day."

Esme dug out some clothes, planning on using magic to change them to fit where they were going, and taking them into the bathroom where she halted at the threshold. "Fucking hell, my room could fit into that shower," she commented in stunned amazement. "If I don't come out in an hour, don't come searching for me," she joked right as she stepped into the bathroom and then closed the door behind her.

She set the clothes down on the large chaise lounge and wasted no time in taking a shower. She didn't need to wash her hair, she just wanted to rinse the day of travel off herself and try to ease her tense muscles from having to sit for so long. She eyed the jacuzzi and noted to enjoy that after she survived whatever was coming with meeting the mafia. She lounged around on the chaise and scrolled on her phone trying to figure out what she should wear. Eventually she decided to with a dress that was short and long at the same time, it would allow her movement and probably be formal enough to pass off as someone with money to burn.

She exerted her Power over the clothes and changed them to the dress, praying no one came up and bothered to ask her what designer she was wearing because fuck if she knew. She shimmied into the dress and picked up the clothes she had changed out of, putting them into what she suspected served as a hamper. She opened the door to the bathroom a small crack and peered out. It was still strange to dress like this and because she felt out of her zone, any attention made her feel flustered.

Spoiler: dress

She stepped out, shoes in hand since she would only walk in these blasted heels when they were leaving the room. "Shower is all yours," she announced, moving to sit on the edge of the bed to and pulling out her phone again. She was using it for two reasons now, to avoid seeing Kyle's reaction which would make her feel even more self conscience and to figure out what she could do with her messy hair. She wasn't exactly skilled when it came to fancy hair styles, but leaving her hair how she normally left it didn't go well with what she was wearing.

After watching a few Youtube tutorials she settled on a french bun. It took her a few frustrated attempts before she managed to get it decent looking. She did simple and natural looking makeup since she had already wasted so much time fighting with her hair. If she had the material she would have given herself some faux fancy jewelry, but maybe no one would notice she wasn't wearing anything like that; hopefully.

Whenever Kyle would finish getting ready as well, she'd go down to the hotel restaurant with him. She was too nervous to really enjoy her food and didn't eat much of what was served. She didn't drink any alcohol; yet. After dinner Esme did order a cocktail she planned to nurse slowly over the evening, nothing nearly strong enough to even get her a buzz after one drink. She mostly just wanted something sweet to drink and try and ease her nerves a bit. Talk about a slippery slope into alcoholism.

The casino was bursting with life. It was festive with flashing lights and colors and filled with the noise of many people conversing. There were servers wandering around fulfilling drink orders so it kept players gambling longer if they didn't have to get their own. Esme wasn't sure if they should directly go to the roulette table and begin the coded betting this early. After gathering some chips Esme suggested they do some other things first, games she was more familiar with such as poker and black jack.

They won more than they lost their bets and after nearly two hours Esme tugged on Kyle's hand and nodded towards the roulette table. She told Kyle to place a few random bets, it didn't matter if they won or lost, but she didn't want to just appear at the table and bring the goon squad over. After her placed a few bets Esme took over and tried to be as casual as possible as she began the sequence of bets. As she progressed through the coded bets she noted stern looking, muscular men in black suits staring intently at her. By the time she placed the last bet they were already in position and approached her as soon as the ball had slid into one of the slots.

It was only two men that approached, but there were a total of five in the area now. "You've been invited to join a private game," one of the men said in a thick Russian accent. Esme's body tensed and her face went pale as she realized it had actually worked. Part of her doubted anything would happen, even as the men had started making an appearance. She didn't trust herself to verbally acknowledge what was said, so she managed to nod, took Kyle's arm and followed the man, the other trailing behind them as they were lead to what appeared to be a VIP area for 'high rollers.'

However, they continued up to the VIP and passed through, heading through a set of ornate double doors to a private room where a man with a scarred eyebrow leisurely lounged at a desk that was probably centuries old. "Dobryy vecher," [Good evening] he greeted them in smooth Russian. He got up and moved over to a sitting area, lifting his hand and politely asking them to join him in English. Esme glanced at Kyle before going to sit on one of the plush seats as the man sat down and began to pour them a round of vodka into tumblers.

"You two are new faces to me, so I have to wonder who exactly you are connected to," he began casually, taking a sip from his own drink. Esme took a sip of her own, using it to buy her just a few more seconds to sort out what she was going to say. "A friend of a mutual friend," she replied elusively. The earned a small smile, though it didn't reach his eyes.

"Obozhayemyy," he commented to the man who had led them here and remained, this didn't cause the man to react in any manner and it left Esme wonder what he had just said. Stupid language barrier she mentally complained, though she did her best to try and not glare at the man.

"We need to find someone," she said bluntly before taking another sip of the alcohol. It was too late to back out now and Esme was going to channel some bravery with this high quality vodka. Her statement made the man curious and he leaned back into the chair, smirking at her.

"котенок, I was trying to get you to introduce yourself," the man laughed out. "Your body language is easy to read that you are very uncomfortable, and yet you sought out this meeting. If we are to do business it is only polite to introduce yourself."

 

[Tarmagon]

Kyle chuckled as Esme disappeared into the huge bathroom. It was just about the size of the whole apartment she shared with Liz, and himself since circumstances hadn't let him find his own place before things got, interesting. It wasn't quite the full hour Esme had dictated, but it was fairly close to that time when she tentatively stepped out in a lovely blue dress, shoes in hand. Rather than make Esme uncomfortable with overdone praise about her appearance, he limited himself to an approving nod and a quiet "Excellent choice" before heading into the bathroom himself. He emerged half an hour later, clean, well groomed, and sporting a charcoal grey suit.

Spoiler: Suit

He gave an approving smile as he saw Esme's hair and makeup, collected the key to their room, and offered Esme his arm. They made their way to the restaurant, where Kyle availed himself of several local dishes, all of which were excellent. Esme, on the other hand, seemed to choose almost randomly, and seemed so distracted that she barely noticed what she was eating. While she didn't drink with her dinner, Esme did order something quite colorful and sweet smelling that she took with her to the casino.

When they arrived at the casino, it was bustling with activity, all light and noise and energy. Kyle moved to the cashier's cage, presented his identification, and received a small rack containing various colored chips of different denominations. He and Esme then began to circulate around the casino, trying their hands at some of the games. While the population of Kyle's little chip holder fluctuated up and down, overall the stock of chips slowly increased, a testament to their skill, or most likely to blind luck. Finally, Esme decided enough time had passed, and they approached the roulette wheel. Kyle made a few bets, winning a couple of minor bets, but nothing spectacular. Then, Esme took over the betting, making a series of seemingly random choices that quickly began to attract the attention of several rather large men in dark, expensive looking suits. After one bet that won rather spectacularly, two men approached Kyle and Esme while another three held back, watching the events.

"You've been invited to join a private game," one of the men said in a thick Russian accent.

Kyle could see the immediate tensing of Esme's shoulders, and her complexion, already pale, faded to ghost white, but she rallied gamely, taking Kyle's proffered arm and following the gentleman who had spoken towards what appeared to be a private area, most likely reserved for 'high stakes' games. They proceeded past this area, and into another private room where they were welcomed by a gentleman with a scarred eyebrow sitting behind an elaborately carved desk. Their host rose, and moved to a sitting area of what had to be his office and gestured for them to sit as he poured vodka into tumblers. Kyle didn't sit, he instead stood close by Esme's left, though he did accept a tumbler with a gracious smile and nod.

"You two are new faces to me, so I have to wonder who exactly you are connected to," he said, sipping his drink.

"A friend of a mutual friend," Esme replied after taking a sip of her own drink.

This seemed to amuse their host, since he laughed, but Kyle noted that his eyes stayed hard and calculating.

"Obozhayemyy," he commented to their guide, and Kyle groaned inwardly. He thought Esme was being adorable. When Esme plowed ahead with their need to find someone, the man leaned back with a laugh and a smirk. Clearly he was enjoying Esme's discomfort, and his next words only confirmed Kyle's guess.

"котенок, I was trying to get you to introduce yourself," the man laughed out. "Your body language is easy to read that you are very uncomfortable, and yet you sought out this meeting. If we are to do business it is only polite to introduce yourself."

"She is perhaps still a kitten," Kyle replied in Russian, "But that is only because she has not yet fully grown into her claws. For now, I am her teeth and claws."

Their host laughed, looking Kyle up and down. "You are no bodyguard, and you are no good at lying either."

Kyle leaned his head to one side, considering the man like he was an interesting, if annoying, court jester.

"I'll tell you what," Kyle said, his voice level, but carrying the ice of a glacier. "You pick whichever one of your men you don't mind getting broken, and we'll see just how amusing he finds my capabilities."

"I am not saying you cannot fight," the man said, his eyes narrowing. "And I see no need for violence to prove this. I am saying you are not a bodyguard. Your body language is wrong, your position is wrong, and you didn't check out the room like a bodyguard would have."

"Perhaps, perhaps not." Kyle replied, nodding briefly to the man. "I would say I am more than a bodyguard. Your large companion has a gun, two knives, and a set of brass knuckles. You are currently unarmed, but your desk contains several firearms and a panic button. This room is being monitored, and a word or gesture will bring in the four gentlemen waiting outside, all armed. Did I miss anything?"

"How can you tell their are firearms in my desk?" the man asked, one eyebrow raised.

"The way you were sitting when we entered," Kyle replied immediately. "It gave access to two drawers very quickly. Both of those drawers are slightly askew, as though a heavy weight has been inside for a long time. Long enough to effect the drawer's rollers. Since there is little that normally resides in a desk drawer that heavy, especially top drawers, I assume they contain firearms."

"I'll need to get those fixed," the man mused. "Now then my observant friend, who are you?"

"We are not whom our identification claims us to be," Kyle said with a wry grin that morphed into a crooked smile as the man's face turned suspicious. "Though there is enough truth in them that we can remember our parts without difficulty. You may call me Kyle, and my companion is Esme."

"And no last names either," the man said, his tone thoughtful. "Why shouldn't I assume that you have been sent by one of the various agencies that have been hounding us and act accordingly?"

"I rather doubt that the 'various agencies' are familiar with the name Le'Cin'der," Kyle replied. Their host's face immediately tightened, and he made a gesture to the tough still standing in the room. That worthy quickly excused himself, leaving Kyle, Esme, and their as yet unnamed host alone. The man moved to the desk and reached under the rim, obviously activating, or deactivating something, before coming back and resuming his seat. He gestured for Kyle to sit, and this time, Kyle settled beside Esme, his face impassive.

"I'm Anatoly," their host said before taking a rather larger sip of his drink than he had before. "May I inquire as to how you know that name?"

"Esme has some questions about a, personal issue, that only Le'Cin'der can answer," Kyle replied, taking a sip of his own drink. "The Lady Ardy're directed us to seek him out, and mentioned the possibility that we might require, assistance in locating him, since he is apparently a bit of a hermit and quite, quite eccentric."

"And what kind of 'personal issue' could possibly interest, the person you are seeking?" Anatoly asked. "He is, mercurial at the best of times."

"No." Kyle said flatly. "That is not for your ears. As for getting Le'Cin'der's attention... we are, countrymen. If you are unwilling to set up a meeting, a message that 'The Scion of House Lenthandir seeks an audience concerning a S'ynivekt ', placed before him will pique his curiosity. I am quite, quite certain that he will agree to meet with us."

Fable (Demon has behaved.)

 

[Fable]

Tarmagon ( I tried, feel a bit aimless here still a bit in trying to get interaction for Kyle and Esme at this point.)

Esme was already flustered from the moment she;d set her first bet at the roulette table. So far the conversation with this man was not easing her nerves in the slightest, nor was the vodka she took another sip of. Whatever the man had said though Kyle seemed to have understood and didn't seem amused. There was a quick back and forth in Russian followed by Kyle basically asking to beat someone up.

At that point she just downed the entire drink she had been given because she wasn't sure where this conversation was going to go, but if she was about to be executed mafia style she was not going to be sober for that. Kyle revealed the information he had gleaned from the man and his companions regarding the weapons on them, how many goons were waiting, and other various tidbits of information which caused the pit of fear in her gut to bloom.

The man took the tumbler from her and poured her more vodka without a word towards her, but simple commented on needing to see to fixing his desk. Kyle gave the man their names and openly revealed his suspicion of them and their purpose. However, the mood of the room changed quickly when Kyle mentioned the person they were seeking out; Le'cin'der. That got the man's attention and he quickly dismissed the goon who had been lurking in the background silently.

It was understandable that Anatoly - the man who was acting as the mafia's gate keeper here - would want to know their business with Le'cin'der. Kyle evaded the question and opted to tell the man to simply deliver a message on their behalf to the demon they sought. It caused Anatoly to lifted his scarred brow at the message and the foreignness of the message.

"Perhaps so,"he commented, "but such a favor doesn't come free. You have to understand that we cannot simply grant information or access to him to just anyone."

"I guess this is where you name your price then," Esme managed to say, trying to keep her voice steady because she honestly thought this meeting was going to get messy based on what had been going on just moments ago.

"Well, that isn't for me to decide, котенок," the man said, his attention on Kyle has he said the Russian term with a bit of emphasis to try and ire a reaction for some amusement. "I am simply a man placed here for those who want to initiate contact, make sure only the right people get meetings with the Pakhan."

Esme glowered at the man as she drank the vodka before she spoke, turning towards being pissed over to overshadow her fear, "Just be fucking blunt. If you are looking for a bribe just spit it out. I hate when people dance around like this."

That had actually caught Anatoly a bit off-guard when she came at him so directly. It caused him to burst out laughing for a long moment before he could compose himself, though a smirk remained on his lips. "Are you certain she doesn't have claws?," he directed towards Kyle in Russian, though wasn't expecting an answer. "Very well, I appreciate a blunt woman. You may call it a bribe, but it would only be a bribe if I got to keep the money for myself. No, let's say it's a gift to the Bratva to show some... sincerity."

"Fine, how exactly do we show our sincerity."

"It's easy enough, if you can afford it. Return to your room, call for room service and ask for Royal Azaleas. Should your card on your account be sufficient to cover the cost, you'll be given a formal invitation for a meeting."

"That's it?"

"Simple, no? The invitation will hold further details."

Esme stopped herself from asking what would happen if they couldn't afford to pay whatever this amount was and just as she was about to ask what the figure was, he got up and went to his desk, scribbled on a small piece of paper, folded it, and handed it to her. She opened the paper and there was a number; $25,000 USD. Esme swallowed nervously at the price. "W-Well then," she stuttered out as she placed it back into his extended hand, clearly not letting her leave with evidence of a deal being made.

"I think our business is concluded here," she announced getting up, finishing off the drink and setting the tumbler down on the table. Anatoly's smiled grew slightly as he went to the door of the office and opened it for them, using her arm to politely direct them out. "I do hope to see you again soon, котенок." The door closed behind them the moment they were both outside of the office and the two goons who had led them there escorted them back to the casino floor before melting away into the bustle of people, though it was quite clear they were going to be watched closely from this point forward.

"D-Did I just talk back to a," she asked out loud and then stopped herself because it was stupid to mention the mafia out in the open like this. She pressed her palms to her cheeks as her anger wilted and was replaced by fear, causing a chilling shiver to go down her spine.

"Well, I'm ready to go back to the room," she announced, trying to keep herself together rather than let her legs give out here in the middle of the casino. She didn't wait for a word or reaction from Kyle and just made her way to the elevators and went to their floor and then to their shared room, using her own keycard to gain access. She managed to make it to the large bed, sat down, and then fell over onto her side.

"I don't think Agent Periwinkle is cut out for this," she weakly joked. "Twenty-five thousand dollars. Sincerity my ass," she complained, kicking off her heels and not caring where they landed. That amount of money was more than she actually made in a year bar tending. She wasn't even sure if the amount on the credit card Ardyr'e had given her would cover that amount. Esme raised an arm and laid it across her eyes as she wondered if this was going to literally be a dead end.

By now it was nearly 11 in the evening and Esme's stomach was unhappy and probably trying to eat itself. The vodka was going to hit her in a bit if she didn't eat something, and so Esme sighed and sat up, looking around the room trying to find the menu for room service. She reluctantly got up once she spotted it on the bartop of the minibar and flipped through the pages to see what was offered. A perk of this being part of a casino was that room service was apparently 24/7.

She decided to just order dessert for herself, drown herself in sweetness since she felt like she was about to tumble down on a path with certain doom. She settled on ordering on something called pancho, which was descried like a volcano cake with chocolate and vanilla layers soaked in a vanilla cream and had nuts and cherries with a drizzle of chocolate. She glanced over at Kyle as she finished the order and set down the hotel phone, "Want to share some dessert with me? There is no way in hell I am going to eat that much cake..." she trailed off.

 

[Tarmagon]

Kyle kept a tight reign on his temper as Anatoly repeatedly called Esme kitten, though he did grin for just a moment when he asked if Kyle was certain Esme didn't have claws. She had certainly been, blunt, but now they knew what they had to do. As they were ushered out, Kyle gave some serious consideration to chastising the mobster, but he refrained. His words might have the man suspecting what he was, if he knew what Le'Cin'der truly was, but there was no reason to confirm his suspicions. Not yet. He'd have time to settle accounts with the little man with the inflated sense of importance at a future date. He'd make certain of it.

Once they had been returned to the casino floor proper, Esme made her desire to return to the room abundantly clear with both words and actions. When they had entered their room, she practically collapsed onto the bed, kicking her shoes away.

"I don't think Agent Periwinkle is cut out for this," she weakly joked. "Twenty-five thousand dollars. Sincerity my ass."

After a few moments of internal contemplation, Esme rose and after a few minutes consideration, requested something from room service. Kyle remained silent, giving Esme a chance to process things on her own. He was quite certain that the resources they had been given would be adequate, and should they prove insufficient, he was perfectly capable of acquiring what they needed. Finally, Esme seemed to be moving on to more mundane concerns as she put down the phone and glanced at Kyle.

"Want to share some dessert with me? There is no way in hell I am going to eat that much cake..." she started, then trailing off into silence.

Kyle didn't say anything, he just crossed the distance separating them and took Esme into his arms, pressing her gently but firmly to his chest.

"My ashke," he murmured into the top of her head. "My wonderful, beautiful, brave, frustrating, headstrong ashke. You are going to give me heart failure, or yourself a nervous breakdown, or both. At least Anatoly respects directness, even if he does constantly refer to you as a kitten."

Kyle reluctantly released Esme and moved to sit on the bed, discarding his jacket and tie in the process. They had survived, they had a path to move forward. Tomorrow would take care of itself.

"I would love to share some dessert with you ashke," Kyle said. "But I am going to risk your ire by setting one stipulation. Forget about where we are. Forget about what we just went through. Don't worry about what we need to take care of tomorrow. I am not going to worry about any of those things. I'm going to spend the rest of my evening with a beautiful woman whom I care deeply about, sharing a far too rich cake, and generally telling the rest of the world to go fuck itself."

Kyle actually blushed as he cursed, but he looked up at Esme with a crooked smile that somehow managed to be apprehensive and hopeful at the same time.

"What do you say?"

Fable (No epic this time. Demon just wants some time with Esme that doesn't involved the mafia, or the future, or anything but Esme.)

 

[Fable]

Tarmagon ( Lol perfectly fine, need a break from the epics for a bit.)

Esme was unprepared for Kyle's actions. Maybe she was just too wrapped up in her head. At first she was confused about the gentle hug, though she didn't pull away or reject it. Honestly it was welcome after she had opened her big mouth at the mafia gate keeper. She was going to joke that it was only cake and he was being dramatic over such a small thing of her ordering it for them, but he spoke before she could say it.

When he said the words 'my ashke' her cheeks got warm and her pulse quickened. She moved her arms to wrap around his waist and let her forehead rest against his chest; partially to try and hide that she was flustered, though she really did enjoy this feeling as well. She laughed out loud at his comment about her giving him heart failure, she wouldn't have guessed he had been bothered in the slightest by dealing with a criminal organization.

When he said Anatoly has been calling her kitten she glared. Not at Kyle, it was a glare towards being called kitten by that man. "Oh I am going to Google something to call him," she huffed out, obviously her anger overriding her common sense to not throw insults at someone in the mafia.

When Kyle released her, she instantly missed the comforting warmth but kept silent. Esme was still very unsure with how to do these sort of things. She struggled just to say nice things. She hadn't complimented Kyle ever, had she? Not that she could recall, not to him. She thought things, but she wasn't brave enough to say anything. She watched him take off his jacket and tie and moved to sit down next to him.

When he said there was a condition for sharing dessert she couldn't help but raise a questioning, if somewhat challenging brow at him. "Why do you think I am going to drown myself in cake," she joked. "I really don't want to think about it or worry about it because I seriously have a problem keeping my mouth shut when I should." She cleared her throat a bit to stop herself from telling him he was being a bit, overwhelming with the sappy words. Instead she was going to focus on his rare use of swearing and flushed complexion.

"The gentleman knows how to cuss!" Esme exclaimed with a twinkle in her eyes. "Way to seduce a lady," she continued to joke. "I will agree to your terms of the world fucking itself for the evening, but one condition of my own here... you have to teach me a swear in your native language." She waggled her eyebrows at him with a smile. "First though I am getting out of this dress before I hurt myself. Better have an answer when I get back."

She got up then, grabbed some pajamas and retreated into the large bathroom. She cleaned the makeup off her face and quickly changed clothes, hanging the dress in the large closet that was outside of the bathroom. She got out just in time for there to be a light knock on their door with the call of 'room service' on the other side. Esme went to open the door and a man stood there holding a covered serving plate, a cart was left outside in the hallway that most likely had orders for other rooms.

"Evening madam, may I come in to set this down?" he asked politely in English. Esme stepped aside to allow him access and he brought came inside and set the covered cake down on the small 'breakfast' table before asking if they needed anything else. Esme shook her head and the man excuse himself and left Esme and Kyle alone once again. She curiously lifted the silver dome lid to see the expertly created cake.

She didn't bother trying to slice the cake up into smaller pieces. Instead she took one of the forks that was laid on the tray and took a piece of cake to try it. "Oof, that is sweet," she commented. She grabbed the other fork and held it out for Kyle to take. "Time to get some cavities," she challenged. There was no way they were going to eat this whole thing, who the hell could?! Still, the sweetness was a welcome flavor and would help tell her stomach to stop trying to eat itself and take the edge off the vodka she had drank.

"What is your favorite kind of dessert anyway?" she asked him before she took another bite. She already knew he liked super spicy things, but what about sweet things.

 

[Tarmagon]

As Esme vanished into the bathroom to change, Kyle took advantage of her absence to change out of his suit into soft, comfortable pants and a t-shirt. He hung the suit in a wardrobe, turning just in time to see Esme emerge from the bathroom and answer a quiet knock at the door. One of the hotel staff entered, carrying a covered silver platter, which he set down and headed back out of their room. Esme lifted the silver dome , exposing something was was as much a work of art as it was a confection.She grabbed a fork to sample the cake, commenting on its sweetness before holding the other fork out to Kyle.

"Time to get some cavities," Esme said, then a curious look crossed her face. "What is your favorite kind of dessert anyway?"

"I'm not certain you have its equivalent," Kyle said, taking the proffered fork and sampling the cake. "Oh my, that certainly IS sweet. I, think that the closest thing you have to it is, a fruit tart? The cooks make a sweetened crumble that they press into a large pan. Over this they add strips of prepared fruit that has been mixed with honey and nuts, pressed, and dried. Then they add a layer of mixed fruit preserves, a layer of a heavy cream mixed with spices, the top it with slices of the various fruits they have used to construct the dessert. It takes days to prepare the components, and significant time to construct properly, but it is amazing."

Kyle paused to take another fork full of the rich cake. It really was quite good. Nothing that you could eat a lot of, and not often, but it made a nice treat, made even more special by the company he shared. Of course, he couldn't say that to Esme. Maybe, one day in the unknown future, she would be able to accept a compliment for a compliment, not a way to flatter her into doing something. For Kyle, that longed for day could not come soon enough, but for now, he just smiled at Esme as she contemplated the cake, choosing where to take her next morsel from.

"About your other request," Kyle said slowly. "I told you the equivalents of a few of your curse words in my language, remember? It's just, we don't curse quite the same way humans do. People would look at me a bit strangely if I were to, how does that saying go? oh, yes... 'curse like a sailor' in my homeland. They wouldn't understand. It's, hard to explain properly. For instance an insult on my world would be to call someone a 'ixilta' or just 'ixi'. The ixilta is a scavenger beast that lives on, and within, the excrement of a large beast on my world. In human words I suppose you'd be calling someone a 'shit eater', and that doesn't even take into account that the ixilta's main defense is being so foul smelling and tasting that no self-respecting predator will eat one, even if starving. And don't even think about calling someone an Ixi t'hagar. That would get you challenged to a due, though here you could probably get away with it. Anyway, nothing else really translates properly without a frame of reference, so best to stick to human curses."

Kyle assayed a third bite of the decadent cake, pausing a moment to kick his metabolism up slightly. Idly, he wondered if Esme could learn to control her body the way he could. He could just see her face when he told her she'd be able to eat anything she wanted and not gain weight unless she chose to. Something must have shown on his face, because Esme looked at him quizzically

"Just a random thought about a future lesson," Kyle said with a smile. "A skill I think you will enjoy if your Power lends itself in that direction."

Kyle looked over at the massive bed the suite boasted and frowned slightly. For all of its opulence, there weren't actually as many pillows on the bed as there were on the cruise ship. Looking around, his gaze failed to uncover enough things to build the Great Wall of Periwinkle and he gave a sigh. The couch was comfortable, and he was certain he'd be able to sleep on it.

"We have a problem," he said. "Unless we want to call housekeeping for extra pillows, we don't have enough for our usual sleeping arrangements. You take the bed, I'll take the couch."

Fable (Rut roh. Not enough pillows.)

 

[Fable]

Tarmagon ( Nearly thought I lost this post because massive storm here and power went out.)

Esme listened as Kyle did his best to explain about his favorite dessert from his native world. She'd honestly never had a fruit tart and so couldn't really compare what he was telling her to an actual recipe here. She didn't think any dessert took that long to make, but she also wasn't a baker and had no clue on the subject. She might have suggested he try and make it himself someday here so she could try it, but she wasn't sure about his baking skill either. "I wonder if you could magically make it," she commented to herself, not expecting any actual answer.

He went on to teach her new swear words in this native tongue, though emphasized that they didn't quite work the same here as they did there when it came to insulting someone. Maybe she should just teach him all the swear words in her vocabulary instead, it would be far more amusing to hear him cuss that way. He probably would still refrain from swearing though so she might have to do some silly tricks to get him to accidentally cuss.

"More lessons?" she asked wondering what it would be this time. However the subject changed as she took another sweet bite and Kyle informed here of a worrisome lack of pillows. She turned her attention to the bed and there were indeed quite a few less. The cruise ship had a ton of them which were actually meant to be decorative pillows rather than used to sleep with. They had made a decent pillow wall. There were two pillows per person, large king sized ones, but not nearly enough to do what they did on the cruise.

The couch here was larger and would fit Kyle much more comfortably, but she felt uneasy taking the bed. There was always just sharing the bed without the pillows and Esme flushed at the thought. Quickly taking another bite of the sweet cake so she wouldn't have to talk right at this moment. "W-We can just call housekeeping for more pillows," she finally answered after swallowing. "Just enough for our needs," she added quickly.

"We can have them brought up and then take the cake away when we're done," she suggested. "Though I'm not too sure how much more I can eat of this cake." The shocking sweetness was becoming a tad too much for her taste buds. She took two more final bites, though they were fairly small. She wiped her mouth with one of the napkins to make sure she didn't have any cake left on her face. She called room service again, asking for four more pillows and thankfully they didn't ask for why she wanted them.

They were quick and someone arrive within 10 minutes to bring the requested pillows and take the cake away, leaving Esme to have enough time to steal one more tiny bite. When the hotel employee left she looked at Kyle a bit sheepishly, "Am I supposed to maybe tip them every time they bring me something? Not sure how fancy hotels work..." Hopefully she hasn't been angering the staff by not following some unspoken tip rule. If she was she'd have to fox that problem since for all she knew there were some mafia assassins.

Esme set up the pillow wall under the bedding before flopping onto the bed herself. She wasn't sure she was going to really be able to sleep, but she wanted to lay down. "We can call for the flowers tomorrow morning. Just rip off the bandaid. What's the worst that could happen?" It was a joke question, she knew the worst was being killed, this was the mafia! Why they would kill them she couldn't fathom, but it was a risk that existed in this phase of their adventure.

"Y-You're not impervious to bullets, are you?" she asked curiously.

 

[Tarmagon]

Kyle didn't protest as Esme called room service, requesting more pillows and the remnants of the cake to be removed. The efficient staff quickly provided the requested services, though Esme worried about tipping.

"I don't think so," Kyle said after a moments thought. "While it is expected for people who provide a personalized service like the bellman, gratuity is generally built into the price of things like room service. You always have the option, but not the necessity. And I agree with your intention to place the order tomorrow. We shall see what we shall see."

"Y-You're not impervious to bullets, are you?" Esme asked curiously.

"That...depends," Kyle said slowly. "If I were to be shot from behind or from a great distance where I did not see it coming, not so much. My vital organs aren't quite in the same place as yours, and I can self-heal quite a bit of damage, but a bullet in the wrong place will end me. My battle form is more resistant to damage, and I would estimate that my natural armor would deflect a smaller caliber pistol bullet. If I'm aware of the threat I can modify my shields accordingly, making me immune to gunfire for as long as my Power holds out. My resources are a bit lower than I would like, but they are up to a substantial portion of what they were, so I could hold out quite a while. There's actually a type of shield I could hold that no one would notice until something hit it, but it takes concentration and while the Power cost while quiescent is low, the demands to actually stop an attack are quite large and produce a very visible effect."

Kyle sat down on his side of the bed, eyeing the wall of pillows, then shifting his gaze to Esme. She had to know that she would have been just as safe without the wall as with it, but knowing what she told him of her past, he supposed her apprehension was to be expected. After another moments gazing at Esme, Kyle rose and moved about the room, dousing the lights as he went, until only the two bedside lamps remained lit. He returned to the bed, careful not to stare at Esme as the light from the lamp behind her turned her hair into a glowing halo that framed her face. It hurt not being able to tell her how beautiful he found her, but for her comfort he limited himself to a small smile

"You should try and get some rest ashke," he said quietly. "Neither of us know what the morning will bring, so worrying about it is pointless. If you find yourself unable to sleep I can, with your permission only of course, influence your internal chemistry to relax you and help you sleep."

Kyle reached across the wall of pillows to capture one of Esme's hands. He gently kissed the back of it before releasing her hand, then turned and shut off the lamp on his side of the bed.

"Zia'helleva ashke."

Fable (Sorry it's short, but my muse is on strike.)

 

[Fable]

Tarmagon ( Sorry if it's lacking, had to stop midway and now my brain is just a bit lost.)

When Kyle said his organs weren't in the same place as hers she wondered if being what she was affected her in that way. However, thinking back the doctors never said anything was odd about her, but she'd also never actually had anyone have to look at her organs. She'd never been ill enough to require someone to poke around and notice if something like that was off. Kyle did what he normally did and gave an elaborate answer. She would have taken a reply of a him just telling her it was circumstantial. She laughed to herself a bit over Kyle's response but said nothing to him or interrupted.

As much as it was tempting to take him up on his offer to magically induce her to relax so she could sleep, she wouldn't ask. She didn't want to become dependent on such things and even if it meant she wouldn't sleep that was a consequence she would accept. Esme was pulled from her thoughts when she felt Kyle's hand take her own and then his warm lips kissed the back of her hand before releasing it along with bidding her what she assumed was goodnight in his native tongue.

Esme did struggle to fall asleep for a variety of reasons, running risk-benefit ratios in her head over seeking out information about herself. She found that she couldn't really decide if it was worth it or not, but she had already come this far and so going back was stupid. Even if it was stupid to go forward too because of the very real risk of danger. So she shifted her thoughts to other things, such as the pillow wall between herself and Kyle. Did she really need it still? She didn't think he'd do anything to her she'd freak out about and he'd been respectful of her boundaries. She tried to determine if her anxious feelings were because of her personal issues or some other reason.

The anxiousness was perhaps more a nervousness. There wasn't really a fear there anymore, just unsurety and just worries that she was struggling to overcome. Kyle seemed to at ease with everything most times and she was just a mess.

Eventually she finally dozed off. She hadn't set any alarms on her phone thankfully which would permit her to sleep in. She didn't need to wake up first thing in the morning to order the flowers. When she did awake it was around 9am and she stubbornly just wanted to go back to sleep. After about ten minutes of attempting to will herself back to sleep and failing she reluctantly got out of bed and went to go order breakfast. She wasn't in the mood to leave the room and eat in the presence of the other hotel guests and also under the watchful eyes of the mafia who was surely keeping tabs on herself and Kyle.

She ordered herself an omelet and one for Kyle as well, one with as much peppers as she could even though they asked if she was sure she wanted it. After assuring them the order was correct she only had to wait twenty or so minutes before they arrived to deliver the food along with orange juice. This time though they set the plates onto the table along with the utensils and everything else and then excused themselves. Rich people had it easy in hotels it seemed.

Whenever Kyle would join her for breakfast, Esme would fidget slightly. "We don't have to keep using the great wall of pillows," she said.

 

[Tarmagon]

“Only if you are truly comfortable with that Esme,” Kyle said with a smile. “And, thank you.”

There was no way to express the upwelling of emotion that flooded Kyle as Esme made her declaration about the wall of pillows. The amount of trust that it showed, the comfort level with his presence, Kyle’s heart felt as though it were going to burst with happiness. He kept his outward expression to a smile so as not to make Esme uncomfortable, but he couldn’t keep the shine out of his eyes.

“For now though, something smells wonderful,” Kyle said. “What have you badgered the staff into making for us?”

Kyle moved to the table, examining its contents approvingly. He had no problem figuring out which plate was his, and he poured juice into two glasses, then pulled out a chair for Esme.

“If you would care to join me?” he asked. “Let’s enjoy this, then order a most expensive flower.”

Fable (Demon smells something wonderful, and is incredibly touched.)

 

[Fable]

Tarmagon

Esme managed to nod in reply to Kyle's word that she should only remove the pillow wall if she was comfortable. She trusted that he wouldn't take advantage of her should the pillows be removed, though comfort was a different matter. It wasn't necessary uncomfortable but it was a change and essentially bringing down a visible barrier between the two of them, showing she did want to try and be closer to him. Like hell she could ever manage to admit something like that though!

"I-I'm not sure how spicy yours is even though I asked them to make it as spicy as they could. I think they believe I'm trying to pull some sort of prank on you. They were worried about things like it being so spicy that it could harm you so they might have not gotten crazy with the peppers."

She moved over to the table and took the seat Kyle had pulled out for her, "You don't have to always do that you know." She said it with a mild pout and then quickly tried to change it to a joke. "Haven't you heard that chivalry is dead here?"

Esme ate her breakfast and pretended for the moment she wasn't going to order flowers from the mafia soon. The quality of the food was good though it was just a simple breakfast. They had other extravagant offerings, but she wanted something familiar and also savory since she'd indulged in that sweet cake last night. As she hadn't eaten much ate dinner and the cake wasn't exactly a nutritional need Esme did manage to finish her entire breakfast before letting out a satisfied sigh.

She swallowed somewhat nervously before finishing the juice in her glass, staring intently at the hotel room phone. She could do this. She had to do this. She needed to know.

Esme got up and went to the phone. She picked it up and set down down once, taking a deep breath before picking it up again and calling room service. Her voice has a small nervous waver to it, but overall seemed normal when she ordered the royal azalea's that Anatoly had instructed in order for them to show their 'sincerity.' She had forgotten to check the balance on the card that she'd been given by Ardyr'e and she could only hope she didn't offend the mafia if she didn't have enough.

There was a small moment of silence from the woman who had answered the phone, replying at last, "пасибо за вашу искренность. The flowers will be delivered promptly." Thank you for your sincerity. The line went dead then and Esme blanked for a moment before she hung up as well. It was done. No backing out now.

"I-It doesn't seem like the card was declined for insufficient funds," she said out loud. Mostly to herself at this point since it had been a large concern, not as worrisome as actually meeting the mafia though.

As promised the flowers were delivered very quickly. Within ten minutes there was a knock at the door and a male employee held a large vase with light pink flowers. He entered the room with a Russian greeting and set the flowers down on a thin table resting against the wall next to the door of their room which had some simple glass decorations. He excused himself just as quickly and left Kyle and Esme alone with the flowers.

Esme curiously looked at them and spotted a plastic card holder with a large black envelope with a hard gold wax seal. She snapped the wax seal and opened the envelope to pull out a black card that had written gold text in a fancy script written in English. At least she didn't have to use the spy glasses to translate it.

"It's an invitation," Esme said out loud. "to a party two days from now. For both of us using the names were registered under here." The invitation was for a formal party hosted by a man name Alexei Mikhailov. It stated the time, location, and dress. Esme went over to Kyle and handed him the card for him to check over himself. She wondered how many other people would be attending this party, if it was all people in the mafia, or if there were others like herself and Kyle that were seeking an audience.

"M-Maybe we should kill some time sightseeing," she suggested as she didn't want to stay in the hotel room for the next couple of days waiting for a very dangerous meeting.

 

[Tarmagon]

"That, sounds like an excellent idea," Kyle replied. "Hmm. The weather changes pretty quickly. Let me make a quick call."

Kyle moved to the phone and placed a quick call, speaking rapidly in Russian. He nodded a few times, then Esme made out the word Agasha. Putting down the phone, Kyle turned to Esme with a smile.

"If my lady would care to dress for a day of exploring," Kyle said, "Agasha will be downstairs to take us on a tour of some of the cities better locations. Then, if you are agreeable, we might make a tour of one or two of the museums for which Moscow is famed. Dinner will be at Piccolino, and the Bolshoi is having a performance by the Ballet tonight. I thought it might be nice to attend if you were of a like mind.”

Esme just stared at Kyle for a moment, then shook her head with a wry grin.

“Holy shit are you a travel agent because that was fast planning!"

“No,” Kyle said with a laugh, “But I will admit that I’m highly motivated to give you a day to remember. And I might have asked our driver Agasha if he’d be available to take us on a proper tour of the city. He made some suggestions and offered to have the hotel inquire about reservations for dinner and the Ballet. Dinner and the Ballet will require formal dress, but Agasha swears he'll have is back in time to change without rushing. He recommends good walking shoes, heavy pants, and a long sleeved shirt with a sweater or jacket in case it turns nasty. I'm going with thick slacks, a button down, and a cable sweater. And this time I get first dibs on the bathroom!"

Kyle vanished into the bathroom, emerging in less than ten minutes fully changed and ready to explore. Esme was nearly as quick, and they set of downstairs to find Agasha waiting patiently in the lobby.

"Sir, Ma'am," he greeted them. "It would be my honor to slow you or fair city today."

"It is we who are honored to have such a knowledge guide," Kyle responded.

"As you wish sir," Agasha said with a smile. "I understand your dinner reservations are at six, and the Ballet begins at nine. I shall have you back here by no later than four."

"Until then, we are in your hands." Kyle replied.

Agasha bowed, then led them out to the same vehicle they had used the day before. Once they were comfortably seated, he slid into the drivers seat and pulled out, heading into the unknown.

"I thought you might enjoy seeing Red Square before it gets too crowded."

Kyle would cherish the day that followed. He and Esme walked hand in hand through Red Square, marveling at the architecture. They fed ducks in Gorky Park, then spent time wandering the halls of Tretyakov Gallery. Agasha then took them to something he called Izmailovsky, which turned out to be a massive collection of eclectic shops, diners, and coffee shops. Kyle and Esme wandered for nearly two hours, picking up trinkets and sampling warm ciders and local snacks. When they finally settled down for a lunch, Kyle grinned at Esme,hoping she had enjoyed the day so far as much at he had.

"Having fun love? " he asked as their waiter set down their drinks and left to bring them some of 'the best pelmeni in the city'.

Fable (Happy demon is happy.)

 

[Fable]

Tarmagon

With Kyle taking control of setting up the plans for sightseeing Esme was pleasantly surprised with everything he had managed to plan in such a short time. He had planned so much for them to both do, telling her his motive was to give her a day to remember. This caused her to blush subtly because she was still very unused to sweet motives. Agasha had even gone so far as to suggest proper attire for their outing with was helpful considering the weather. She could have checked her phone for information about the temperature, precipitation, and other things. This just saved her a step.

Esme smirked as Kyke called dibs on the bathroom, not arguing for the right to be first to change clothes. In the lobby Agasha greeted them and informed them of when dinner and the ballet was scheduled. It was weird having this all planned out so well for such nice things. Hell, even having a driver to take them places and serve as a bit of a tour guide was odd. However, this was all a welcome distraction from the flowers signifying their communication with the mafia.

She did a classic tourist move and bought a Russian nesting doll when they visited Izmailovsky, the act making her flush in embarrassment as she said it was a trope tourist item to get, but she wanted to get something for Liz as a bit of a peace offering for when all of this was said and done. It was small enough to not be cumbersome when traveling as well since Esme couldn't mail it exactly right now. It was better to give a present in person anyway.

At lunch Esme was eager to eat after spending such much time exploring the city with Kyle. When he openly asked her if she was having fun and referred to her as 'love' her eyes widened she was glanced at by nearby customers who were also eating. Her cheeks burned as she grew flustered by the term of endearment, but she found that she didn't hate him calling her that, instead it made her pulse quicken in a happy sort-of nervous way.

"Y-Yes," she managed to reply since she had been caught off-guard by him. "I'm not sure I'll ever get used to that kind of stuff," she added, referring to his usage of the term of endearment. "It's better than being called babe or doll or something equally bad."

Esme wasn't sure she'd be able to call Kyle by such words either, it just seemed so weird in her mind. Hell, her term of endearment for Liz usually was 'bitch' in that 'I'm joking with this insult because we're this close we can call each other names' sort of way.

"What about you, are you having fun?" she inquired since this trip wasn't just about her enjoying the sights. Esme wanted them both to have fun since when they went to the party it might not go too well for them.

"It's a bit strange taking a 'vacation' like this still though. But I've been blissfully distracted which I needed. Which by the way Agasha is going to need a huge tip for everything today. It's so weird having someone acting like a personal driver and tour guide. I had thought we'd have a normal tourist experience and then you had to go and get fancy."

Esme laughed lightly, but it had been true. Her suggestion was imagined with them taking hours figuring out where to go and when and transportation such as taxis. Because they had a personal driver for the day they didn't have to fight for a ride against other tourists. It was a very different experience from the limited times Esme managed to save enough to go on a trip somewhere just for pleasure.

The waiter had returned now with two plates with the suggested pelmeni dish. They looked wonderful and smelt even better. She eagerly took a bite of one of the meat dumplings and let her eyes closed in food bliss. Esme hadn't been what one would call a foodie, but that didn't mean she wasn't open to trying new foods. If she liked the food, then great! There would probably quite a few dishes she wouldn't care for, but she'd at least try them once... unless they smelt and caused her stomach to churn before even taking a bite. Durian was one of those foods she had been offered to try and the moment she could smell it she had felt ill.

"We are trying blini for dessert," Esme stated after she had swallowed her food. It was basically like a crepe, but it came with many filling options. With these dumplings something sweet would be nice to have, though they could probably get different types of Kyle wanted something different than her. She even placed the order when the waiter came to refill their drinks and check on them, having hers filled with strawberries and whip cream. It seemed you could have nearly anything for the filling though.

After lunch and dessert Esme's stomach was more than satisfied, "I'm probably going to gain weight if we keep eating at this rate. I'll have to use the hotel's gym to fight off the food guilt."

Kyle suggested they visit some place referred to as GUM, which was some sort of high end shopping center that carried expensive brands. It would allow her to buy the clothes for the rest of their planned evening and also to get something to wear for the party. Esme hadn't ever really done this type of shopping. Hell, she'd never even gone to any school dances. Liz had always prepared the gala dresses for the charity event so this was a strange new experience for Esme.

The women who worked at these places were more than happy and eager to help Esme pick out dresses. They kept the dresses coming for her to try on, as well as shoes, accessories and everything else imaginable. She felt like she was some Barbie doll a little girl was dressing up the way these women were going. Sometimes Esme would step out to show what they'd had her put on, other times things were just a tad too much. Too revealing, like a very see-through dress which Esme was glad she had caught beforehand.

It was chaotic at first, but eventually Esme asserted herself and put her food down on what she would actually wear. One of the women helping her said Esme needed to be courageous and wear something new rather than meekly sticking to her normal style. In the end Esme purchased three dresses, two pairs of shoes, way too expensive jewelry and a clutch that would go with anything she wore.

Agasha said he was impressed with her haul as he loaded everything up into the trunk of the car for her. He joked she had restrained her shopping very well and that most ladies would buy so much he had an extra package passenger riding in the front with him. The shopping had taken a huge chunk of time and so they had to head back to the hotel so they could get ready to head to dinner and then the ballet.

Because Kyle would be able to change much quicker than she, Esme gave him dibs on the bathroom and then took it over to get ready herself, dragging in one of the bags with her. She opted to just leave her hair down this time rather than try to do anything fancy. Though perhaps she could see if Kyle could teach her some hair magic. It was tempting to try it herself based on what she had already learned, but the last thing she needed was to screw it up and destroy her hair.

She emerged some time later in an eye catching red dress with matching shoes. She had gotten some simple stud earrings and a bracelet to go with the outfit, though it was mostly to get them to stop from pushing more onto her to inflate their commission. "Uhm, this might be a weird request, but... how good are you with hair?"

Spoiler: dress

 

[Tarmagon]

Kyle accepted Esme's offer for him to change first. He had made a purchase of his own during their excursion, and he looked forward to Esme's reaction to it. He quickly showered off the day's explorations, and donned his new outfit. Taking a quick glance in the mirror, he nodded at his reflection and headed out into the main room.

Spoiler: Suit

"Your turn," he said, and smiled as Esme vanished into the bathroom with a couple of packages. While she took care of herself, Kyle made a call to Agasha to check on whether or not his request was been possible. When Agasha told him that everything was as he had hoped, Kyle thanked him, letting the patient driver know that they would be down in time for an unhurried drive to their reservation. Just as he finished, Esme emerged from the bathroom.

"Uhm, this might be a weird request, but... how good are you with hair?" she asked.

For just a moment, Kyle couldn't process Esme's words. He was struck dumb by the picture she presented. She had donned a red dress that brought a warm blush to her cheeks, accenting the outfit with simple jewelry and minimal makeup. The dress was nowhere near as elaborate as the confection she had worn to the gala, but it seemed to speak more to Esme, at least in Kyle's admittedly biased opinion. With a massive effort, he finally pulled his attention from Esme's appearance to her words, her question filtering into his mind.

"I... I'm not quite certain what you mean," he said, his voice showing his confusion. "I, can do things like simple braiding and basic styles if that is what you mean."

Kyle broke off in confusion, his mind still not working quite right.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I know this is going to make you uncomfortable, but I have to say it. You are beautiful. Thank you for sharing this day and evening with me."

Fable (Demon is dumbstruck, but trying so hard not to be too effusive since he knows Esme isn't comfortable with compliments, but he HAD to say something.)

 

[Fable]

Tarmagon

Kyle answered her question with uncertainty, explain he could braid her hair and do basic styles but ended up changing the subject, apologizing before he complimented her because he knew she found such things uncomfortable. She felt the familiar clench of anxiousness when he did so, still very unused to such things and it instinctively causing discomfort even though she knew he meant no harm by it. Maybe one day she'd be able to be calm when he said things like this, but she wouldn't try to predict when such a thing would occur.

Esme cleared her throat, still not sure how to react other than a shy 'thanks' and swapping the topic back to hair. "I need to make you watch the original Sabrina the Teenage Witch movie," she joked under her breath trying to ease her anxiousness. "Your simple braids are probably better than what I could do on myself."

There was the temptation to watch a Youtube video on hair styling, but she didn't have that time to dedicate since they had a reservation. There was also the high chance of her messing up many times which would also take up way too much time. Esme had curiosity about what Kyle considered a basic hair style, was it from where he was from, or from here?

"Well, could you maybe... try something with my hair then? I actually can't braid my hair myself well anyway." Esme picked at her nails as she asked this. "You don't have to do it if you don't want to of course, but I figured I'm supposed to do something with my hair at least. I don't think me throwing it up into a messy bun would pass."

 

[Tarmagon]

“I’d be happy to,” Kyle said, considering the cascade of Esme’s hair. It wasn't all one length, but it increased in length as it moved from front to back in a gentle wave, falling to her shoulders at its longest. Hmm. Yes, the one his mother had taught him. "Sit here for a moment and we shall see what I can accomplish."

Kyle pulled out a straight backed chair and motioned Esme to sit. While she did, he went to the bathroom and retrieved a brush and a handful of 'elastic bands' that the humans used instead of leather or silk cords to bind their hair. He didn't like them, but they would have to suffice. Esme was sitting when he returned, and he moved to stand behind her chair.

"Please, let me know if I pull," he said, " And may I use my Power on your person? "

“Why would you need to use Power?" Esme asked, "But yes, you can."

"It's a surprise," Kyle said, beginning to run the brush through Esme's hair. "If you don't care for it when I'm done, I can undo it, but no peeking until I finish."

Kyle did as he had been taught, brushing until Esme's hair was tangle free, hanging in gentle waves, before he parted it in the center. Gathering a small section near her forehead, he began to plait, following the pattern his mother had taught him. Gathering more hair, he worked his way back, allowing the plait to follow the natural curve of her head until he had reached the longest section, then allowed the plait to taper off naturally, binding the end with an elastic. Moving to the other side, he repeated his pattern, then drew the two plaits together.

"No, these elastics won't do at all," he thought, trying to inventory what he had to work with. "Ah yes, that will work."

Moving to a dresser, Kyle retrieved a belt that had taken his fancy. Something about the ornate gold and silver buckle had intrigued him, but now he had another use for it. Taking the buckle in both hands, he concentrated on the form in his mind, letting his Power give the metal its new form. He clipped his creation into Esme's hair, letting it hold the braids in place, then stroked his fingers gently along either side of Esme's head. Stepping back, he nodded and held out his hand to Esme.

"Would my lady care to judge my efforts?" he asked, offering to walk Esme to the mirror.

He hoped she approved. Two thin braids curved back to join behind her head, clasped in the claws of a delicate dragon formed of gold and silver filigree. Strands of hair cascaded down from the braids, falling like curtains about her head. As Esme moved, hints of rich gold and dark reds appeared from behind the cascading tresses, only to vanish and reappear as she turned her head.

"I don't know what you would call this here," Kyle said. "On my world it is a curtain plait. If you don't like it, I can undo it."

Fable (He gave her waterfall braids with subtle highlights hidden behind the flowing parts, held together by a crafted dragon hair clip. )

 

[Fable]

Tarmagon (Sorry it's lacking, having a bad morning which has not improved.)

Esme quirked a brow when Kyle said she couldn't peek. She didn't argue over it, just found it a bit silly though if he wanted the hairstyle to be a surprise she had no reason to deny him such a thing. As long as she didn't get a reveal of her hair looking like a crow's nest it would be fine and she didn't think Kyle would pull such a joke on her. She closed her eyes and let him do his work, weaving her hair with a skill that was probably better than her own.

Her shoulders naturally relaxed as she enjoyed the process, from her hair being brushed to feeling his fingers in her hair. She was tempted to open her eyes when he stepped away for a brief moment, wondering what he was doing. Shortly after he returned she felt him put something in her hair, something like a clip of some sort. Esme opened her eyes when he asked if she wanted to judge his work. She let him lead her to a mirror, mostly amused at the gesture.

She turned her head side to side to look at the braids he had done. As she moved her head to look there was a hint of other colors under her hair an she furrowed her brow wondering if it was a trick of the light, but she knew that it was what Kyle probably used his Power for. "Honestly, I don't know the name of any braids except a basic braid and a french braid," she commented as she continued to study her hair curiously. Esme wasn't sure if such a style fit her or not, but she was going to trust Kyle's judgement.

"It looks good," she managed to say with a hint of nervousness. She lifted a hand to feel the clip that was holding her hair in the back, wondering where he had gotten it, though she assumed he had made it. It was around this time that Agasha had the front desk call their room to inform them of his arrival. She took Kyle's hand and left together with him. What greeted them wasn't the cat they Agasha had been using to transport them around the city, instead they were greeted by a limo and even was wearing a chauffeur's uniform.

"I-Isn't this a little fancy?" she asked, wondering why they were taking a limo this time rather than the casual car. Agasha didn't take offense to her question as he politely opened the door for them to get into the limo. "It's very fitting for where you are going," Agasha replied as Esme got into the limo and slid over the seat to make room for Kyle.

 

[Tarmagon]

“Agasha is quite correct ashke,” Kyle said as he slid in beside Esme. “And he is being well compensated for today’s services, as well as this evenings. Everything has been taken care of, so all that is required of us is to enjoy the evening.”

Kyle leaned over and kissed Esme lightly on her cheek as the limousine started to move, then settled back, letting Esme choose her comfortable level of closeness. He knew she had enjoyed their time together today, and he hoped he could make the evening just as special. Esme deserved a night to feel special, and he was going to do his best to give it to her. The drive to the restaurant was short, but the setting sun touched the rooftops with golden glory, making it seem like they were traveling through a land of magical towers. The restaurant seemed rather unimpressive at first glance, catering to families, but Agasha turned the limo down a street beside the restaurant, following the building to stop by an ornate door marked 'Private' and guarded by a large gentleman in an ornate uniform. Agasha opened the door, standing by respectfully as Kyle offered Esme his hand, then moving to speak quietly to the uniformed man. The man nodded, then bowed to Kyle and Esme.

"Welcome to The Piccolino," he said, opening the door for them. "Please enjoy our hospitality."

Kyle nodded graciously to the gentleman, then paused to shake his hand as he and Esme passed through the door. For just a moment, Esme thought she saw a glint of yellow in the man's hand as Kyle withdrew his, but then they were through the impressively carved door and in a luxuriously appointed bar. Dark wood, carved by an expert hand, ran the length of the room, backed by an antique mirrored wall that held dozens of cut crystal flasks. Scattered about the room were leather couches and chairs, several occupied by men and women dressed in suits, evening gowns, and tuxedos, and a massive chandelier gave the room a comfortable twilight illumination. Behind the bar a man in a spotless white shirt deftly manipulated the contents of the wall, mixing drinks with a fluid economy of motion.

"Sir?" a pleasant voice asked, and Kyle and Esme turned to see a young woman dressed in an elegantly understated black dress standing by them.

"Jenkins," Kyle replied, and the woman's face lit with a smile.

"Yes sir," she said. "We understand that you will be attending the Ballet this evening, so your table is waiting. If Sir and Madame would follow me? "

The woman led them past the bar, through an archway, and into a small dining room that held no more than a dozen tables, all spaced well apart from each other, and all but one occupied and attended by a man or woman in a tux. Moving unerringly to the sole empty table, the young woman waved to a man standing by the wall, then nodded to Kyle.

"Dmitry will see to your needs," she said. "And if anything is lacking, please ask for Lexi and I will make it right."

With that, the woman retreated, and Kyle seated Esme with a smile. Dmitry waited until Kyle had seated himself, then approached and spoke in rapid fire Russian. Kyle frowned, and the young man blushed, then repeated himself, speaking slowly and distinctly. Kyle nodded, his frown fading, them spoke back to Dmitry.

"My apologies," Dmitry said in English. "That was my error sir. If you wish another..."

"No," Kyle said, holding up a hand. "It was an honest mistake, and actually flattering. What has the Chef decided to prepare this evening, and what drink pairings go best with the menu?"

"He has actually prepared a sampling of the old recipes tonight," Dmitry replied. "And Lucien has worked to prepare the classic drinks as well."

"Then we are in your hands," Kyle said. "Let us see Russia through the lens of its cuisine."

"Very good sir," Dmitry said. "I shall return with the first course momentarily."

"This should be amazing," Kyle said as Dmitry departed. "I think you'll, we'll enjoy this."


Fable (Our intrepid explorers have happened into a well kept secret. Here's hoping it proves enjoyable. )

 

[Fable]

Tarmagon

The feeling of Kyle's warm lips on her cheek caused Esme to flush but she didn't slap or rebuff him. There wasn't that usual panicked feeling that came with proximity - especially the romantic kind - regarding others. Sure, her heart rate had pick up and there was a nervous fluttering feeling, but it wasn't the cramping discomfort that came with being touched. It was a more pleasant feeling that one felt with romantic budding romantic attraction.

Her hand went to find his and entwined their fingers, though she couldn't look at him directly as she did this finding such an action for some reason too embarrassing to actually acknowledge beyond the act itself. She wasn't like Kyle who seemed to find it easy to use words to express himself. All Esme could do was things like this and hope it was just allowed to be rather than uncomfortable attention directed at her.

Esme's brows furrowed at the restaurant. It seemed disconnected to their attire and that they were very overdressed for such a place. They weren't even pulling into the normal area for where guests were dropped off but some side street with a door marked as 'Private' with a large man guarding it. She nearly made a joke about Kyle getting in deep with the mafia because this seemed the type of place connected to the underground crime syndicate.

All she could do really was let Kyle take the lead. She squinted for a moment as something seem to pass from Kyle's hand to the man at the door. Bribe of some kind? She wasn't sure and she could always ask later. Passing the threshold revealed a high class area with people who dripped and exuded an aura of wealth. Her wandering attention that took in all the details of this unfamiliar environment when they were approached and then led them to their table.

Their server - Dmitry - started rambling in Russian and Kyle's expression quickly cause him to switch to English and apologize before answering Kyle's question and then leaving them for a brief moment. "Right now I'm just trying to wrap my head around this." Esme admitted because it was somewhat overwhelming to her to be in this position. She didn't really eat out because she couldn't really afford to. Even if she did eat out it was at cheap chain restaurants, fast food, or some buffet kind of place. This was a whole new world of dining experience and she had no idea what was exactly going on. Well, she did and she didn't. It was more just making her worry that she was sorely out of place that was bothering her.

"You know those movi-" she cut herself off because he most likely didn't. "Uh, there are movies with a Cinderella trope and I sorta feel like I've been sucked into one of those movies right now." Esme was trying to explain the weird feeling this way because she really wasn't sure how else to explain it. "Not that it's a bad thing, it's just a weird feeling."

Around this time Dmitry returned to bring them their first course of food which was mushroom julienne with a drink that had been specifically paired to go with it. Of course water was also placed on the table and Esme took a sip of that first as Dmitry explained the dish and the drink. He asked them if they needed anything else before leaving to let them eat. Esme's nose crinkled at she looked at the food before she looked up at Kyle. "I'm not a fan of mushrooms," she admitted as she lifted her fork. As much as she didn't like mushrooms she would at least try the food.

"You don't think the chef is the kind of person to get upset if someone doesn't eat something right?" she asked somewhat seriously. She didn't want some chef coming out and acting like Gordon Ramsy because she doesn't like mushrooms. Then there was the whole food waste aspect which baffled her. If at the end of this venture there was any money left on the card Esme had been given she was going to donate it to charity or something.

She took an experimental bite and made herself swallow it though it was clear it wasn't exactly aligned with her taste for food. The drink was pleasant enough and so she drank about half of that. The food was cleared away and then a new course and paired drink were brought for them to enjoy. There were a few dishes that Esme loved, some she couldn't take more than a testing bite, and others she took a few bites of but didn't really care for. Likewise it was the same with the drinks. Their last course was honeycake which she enjoyed, but by this time she was too full to really eat more than a few bites.

"I think I ate too much," Esme feigned a groan. She hadn't eaten so much as to make herself actually ill, just very full. "I should take you to a Brazilian restaurant sometime," she joked. Esme had been to one before when Liz took her out for her birthday. There was just constant food being served and a large variety as well. It would be interesting to hear of Kyle's comparison in experiences and which he preferred.

When their bill was settled Agasha was already waiting for them outside and to drive them to their next destination; the ballet. Esme hadn't been nosy and used her phone to try and google information about the ballet and potentially spoil anything in Kyle's plans. When they got back into the limo she again took Kyle's hand casually, but this time she also partially leaned against him, letting her head rest on his shoulder.

Esme let her eyes slip closed as she leaned against him. She wasn't going to fall sleep into a food coma; yet. It just helped keep her from overthinking or feeling overwhelmed in some other way if Kyle ended up looking at her. She spent the ride with Kyle like this until Agasha arrived and the car stopped so she sat back up and then got out of the car when the door opened. Once out in the crisp air she straightened out her dress and took Kyle's arm. "Good thing I know how to wear heels now," she tried to joke since there were quite a few stairs they had to ascend.

 

[Tarmagon]

Kyle had hoped that Esme would enjoy the dinner, and told himself that for the most part, she had seemed to. He supposed that given the widely varying dishes the Chef had prepared, not all would suit every diners taste. He would never be able to say it directly to her, but he was inordinately proud of Esme as she tried every dish, even if it was only a bite or two. She seemed to enjoy the drinks a bit more than the dinner perhaps, and that made a kind of sense. After all, she did mix drinks for a living. For his part, Kyle found most, though not all, of the dishes fairly enjoyable. If pressed however, he wouldn't really be able to recall details about them. He was still floating along on the feeling of Esme's fingers twined in his as they rode to the restaurant.

After settling the bill, Kyle found himself once more in the back of the limo as Agasha navigated the darkened streets. This time as Esme's fingers found his, he became aware of a gentle pressure as Esme leaned against him, her head a comforting weight on his shoulder. He was sorely tempted to tell Agasha to forego the ballet, and instead just to drive around the city so he could prolong this magical moment, but he knew that the moment he did anything but accept what was happening, the moment would end in a rush of awkward words, so instead he just concentrated on the moment, adding it to the store of cherished memories that Esme was providing him. Far, far too soon for Kyle's liking Agasha pulled to a stop, opening the door with a flourish and a smile.

"Good thing I know how to wear heels now," Esme said as she took his arm and glanced up at the steps leading in to the theatre.

"Indeed," Kyle said with a warm smile. "While I would treasure any excuse to have you in my arms, carrying you up the stairs in that dress might prove, challenging. But for you, I would make the attempt were you not now adroit in your chosen footwear. Now then, let's brave the perils of the stairs so we can watch Don Quixote have his wonderful adventures."

They managed to ascend the stair without incident, and yet another uniformed gentleman ushered them inside. Looking about, Kyle spotted a young man behind a computer and moved up to wait patiently while that worthy assisted an older couple.

"Name please?" the man asked in Russian as Kyle approached.

"Jenkins," Kyle replied.

"Ah," the man, whose nametag read Niko said. "I am afraid that there is a problem. A large party required additional contiguous seating, and as your requested seats were contiguous with theirs, you have been reassigned. There are single seats in sections A and D which will be made available to..."

"I do not find your proposed solution adequate," Kyle said, his expression and voice turning dark. "My wife and I require adjacent seating."

"I am sorry sir," Niko said, not sounding sorry at all. "But seating is at our discretion. If you would like to come back for another show, we would be happy to reseat you for a nominal fee."

" I see," Kyle said, his voice turning cold. "Shall I then contact the Ritz and tell them that you are not honoring their reservation? Shall I have to tell Mr. Mikhailov that we will not be attending his party due to a scheduling mishap?"

Niko's face had gone blank when Kyle mentioned calling the RItz, but it turned absolutely ashen when Kyle mentioned the name Mikhailov. His mouth opened and closed several times, then he turned and picked up a phone. He spoke quickly into the handset, his expression growing more and more worried at whatever answers he was getting from the other person. Finally he finished his conversation and turned back to Kyle.

"My apologies Sir," he said, a note of respect mingled with fear in his voice. "I was,, inadequately aware of your, situation. Had I been aware, I would not have placed you on the common floor, much less reassigned your seating. Sergei!"

An older gentleman appeared by Niko as if conjured, bowing to Kyle.

"Please escort Mr. Jenkins and his wife to the Antonov booth please," Niko said in perfect English. "And see to their comfort."

"Sir, Ma'am," Sergei said with a much deeper bow to Esme than he had given to Kyle. "If you would follow me?"

Sergei led them down a hall, away from the main entrance and then up a narrow stairway. There was a short hallway at the top with three doors spaced widely apart along one wall, and a single door in the center of the other. Opening the center door of the three, Sergei ushered Kyle and Esme into a small cupola built into the wall of the theatre. There were four comfortable looking chairs arranged in a semi-circle behind a low table set with glasses and several decanters, as well as a small plate of delicate looking confections. Kyle could see similar arrangements to the left and right, and looking ahead, he could see another set of booths on the opposite wall. There were more booths on the back wall of the theatre, and while the view from them would have been good, the view from where they were, half way up the theatres length, was amazing.

"Will anyone be joining you?" Sergei asked as Kyle seated Esme.

"No, but thank you for asking." Kyle replied.

"Very good Sir," Sergei replied. "If you find you need anything, simply press the button on the table and I will attend you. For now, please enjoy the show."

Sergei bowed himself out, closing the door softly behind him, and Kyle took the seat beside Esme, pausing to examine the decanters on the table. They appeared to contain various top shelf liquors, and he poured a small measure of one into a glass. The odor was smokey, and the taste was wonderful.

"Esme?" Kyle asked, offering her the glass. "Can you identify this drink for me? It's wonderful, and I'd like to be able to request it in the future."

Fable (Sorry. Meant to write them to the hotel, but then this occurred to me. It's a single malt scotch in the macallan rare category.)

 

[Fable]

Tarmagon

Esme couldn't hold back her laughter at his reaction as he said he would bravely carry her up the perilous stairs if she needed him to. Usually such a comment she perhaps would have blushed and she did, but she was more amused by it than flustered right now. She went with him up the stairs to the desk where Kyle went to handle their reservations. She wasn't sure what was going on exactly because they were exchanging words in Russian. Whatever it was had not made Kyle happy based on his expression.

Her eyes darted back and forth from Kyle to the man at the desk with furrowed brows. Whatever was going on Kyle had something that had changed the man's tone and set in a mild panic as he quickly picked up a phone. Whatever had gone wrong had been sorted as they were soon escorted to a booth by a man who did speak English. She glanced around curiously but was drawn to Kyle when he spoke and inquired if she could identify a specific drink for him.

"I can try, I'm not exactly a professional taste tester for this kind of stuff," Esme answered, taking the drink and first giving it a small sniff. Most people didn't understand that sense of smell actually was involved in regards to taste. People who lacked a sense of smell would have taste affected, it was why sometimes when sick things tasted weird; you couldn't smell anything.

She took an experimental sip and narrowed her eyes before she took another. "It's likely a type of malt scotch. Probably expensive. Maybe you could ask the guy who led us here about it, he probably knows."

There wasn't time left for further discussion as the bell sounded for everyone to get to their seats before the doors were closed shut and no one would be allowed to enter until an intermission. Esme took a seat, still holding the drink Kyle had given her. No sense in wasting a good drink, but she was going to nurse it throughout the evening. She didn't exactly know what was going on plot-wise in the ballet but that didn't make it less enjoyable, though Esme couldn't help but wonder how painful it must be to dance on one's toes like that for such a long period of time.

Esme clapped along with the rest of the audience when it ended though she didn't get up to leave immediately. "Let's just wait for the crowd to herd themselves out first." She didn't want to deal with the numerous people who were leaving and figured lingering for a few minutes to let the crowd slowly disperse was a better plan, sort of like how you just lounge in your seat when a plane lands. She never understood why people wanted to stand in the aisle of the plan when the doors hadn't even opened. The minute the seat belt sign vanished so many people who rush to get up and grab their things.

This gave some tome for Esme to ask Sergei about the drink as he had come to check on them, asking if everything was to their liking. He answered the question stating the drink was a Macallan single malt scotch. Not something just anyone could afford.

When most of the audience had filtered out Esme decided it was safe enough to leave without having to worry about weaving through various bodies of strangers. Agasha was awaiting with other drivers in a line of cars who were also picking up people. Esme quickly got in with Kyle, once again taking his hand though this time she didn't lean against him. The drive back to the hotel was actually relaxing as Esme let her eyes take in the lighted city.

By the time they reached the hotel it was decently late, around 12am or so. Esme stretched out her arms and flopped on the bed in her dress and kicked off the heels she had worn. She really still did prefer more casual and comfortable shoes. She laid there for a moment before she rolled and went to sit up. "Agasha is a pretty good travel agent," she joked. "By the way, what was going on at the desk at the ballet? The guy went from that annoying fake friendliness to seemed a bit scared and then we get a nice booth to ourselves."

As she waited for him to reply she set to work to undo Kyle's handiwork with her hair. Esme wondered if she was going to need to actually have her hair professionally styled for this meeting with the mafia. Most likely. The problem with that was would there be any place open on such short notice. She could always ask the hotel staff for help probably.

 

[Tarmagon]

Kyle smiled to himself as Esme sampled the drink he had handed her, but then failed to return it to him. It must have been something special that she ordinarily wouldn't be able , or willing, to indulge herself in. He debated pouring himself another glass, but decided that it might make Esme feel bad for taking his first one, Instead he settled back, enjoying the ballet and enjoying Esme's obvious enjoyment of it. They stood with the rest of the audience at the end of the performance, then returned to their seats to wait out the departing crowd. Kyle was perfectly happy to wait, simply enjoying being with Esme without anything hanging over their heads more serious than the ride back to the hotel. Even the ride back to the hotel was wonderful, the late city lights twinkling like thousands of stars brought to earth. All too soon they were back in their room, and Esme paused just long enough to kick off her shoes before flopping back onto the bed.

"Agasha is a pretty good travel agent," Esme said. "By the way, what was going on at the desk at the ballet? The guy went from that annoying fake friendliness to seemed a bit scared and then we get a nice booth to ourselves."

"I really didn't want to talk about that," Kyle said, pausing in removing his tuxedo. "But since you asked. He had decided that our sitting together was less important than some last minute additions to a large group that had the block of seats beside ours. He was going to put us into two different sections so he could curry favor with some minor player. I simply pointed out that our reservations came through the Ritz, and he then offered to give us another seating at another show that takes place during our upcoming meeting, for a substantial fee. When I mentioned that we had an appointment with Mr. Mikhailov, he seemed to have a sudden change of heart, especially when he apparently made a phone call to confirm what I told him."

Kyle paused, taking the time to hang the tuxedo up properly. He grabbed a loose shirt and a pair of sleep pants and ducked into the bathroom to change. A few minutes later he emerged, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

"I didn't want to say anything about it and ruin the evening," he said. "I have had the most spectacular day and evening, and I wasn't about to let some two-bit social climber ruin it for prestige points. Not on any world, at any time."

Fable (Sorry it tool so long.)