Appearance is key

The warm water gurgled graciously around her form as the Innkeeper's wife added some bubbly goop to the liquid and swished it about with her hand. They'd felt that this was the least they could do after what had happened. She dunked her head under the bubbles and into the water to wash her hair, scrubbing at the short dark locks to release all the dirt and the occasional parasite. That reminded her to save for newer bedding soon, after her brothers were on a seasonal break, courtesy of the Queen and her Guards.

She surfaced as soon as her lungs started to hurt, burning as they reminded her that she needed air rather than water to survive. Skye was never one to take a hand out, but she took a bath and food willingly as this would keep her working longer and more comfortably. She felt along the edge of the copper tub for the wash cloth that had been left there moments earlier as the other woman had vacated the room. Steaming hot fabric touched her hand and she jumped before grasping it and wiping her face, contemplating the web she was about to start constructing.

She'd never felt so determined to avenge anything, was she so sure that she could pull it off without the Dragna attempting to hunt her down? There was always a measure of risk involved with anything even remotely out of one's comfort zone. She returned to bathing herself before getting out and drying off with a soft towel. Skye wasn't going to back down now however, especially not before she found the pawns in the Dragna's front line. But to do that she'd have to do some reconnaissance at the Night Markets after work.

She clumped down the stairs in her old boots, having not tied the laces up as of yet. The friendly chatter dimmed as she came into sight of the Inn's patrons, several reaching out to touch her hands and shoulders as she passed. This was a custom which was done only in the city of Dys, it was to symbolise that people shared your loss and would support you. No one knows when it started up, but the residents of the port city refused to give it up and upheld the tradition steadfastly. She touched as many as she could in response before reaching the entrance and tying her shoes deftly.

She looked up at the Innkeeper, his beard becoming flecked with grey and the wrinkles near the corners of his eyes having gotten deeper every time he smiled. He cleared his throat and ruffled her damp hair before giving her the messages as well as a small date loaf. She gave him a gentle nod before she turned on her heel and left with a clearer head, having the support of the adults had relief momentarily whispering sweet nothings in her ear. But as she set off on her trek around the city she realised that already it was easier to go forward with what she had planned than to back out.

Skye delivered an order request to Madam Ghut's Apothecary before returning to the Inn with the item. As she went up to the room, a Painted Lady was coming down the hallway. She touched Skye's shoulder and smiled politely, only to hurry off a split second after they made eye contact. The girl's face stuck in her mind and as she knocked on the door, her name sprung to mind. Lila Orgood....she hadn't seen Lila in a good year, but then again not many Painted Ladies talked to their friends from a 'previous life'.

She had those same doe eyes, but her vibrant auburn locks had dulled from a lack of sun. These ladies worked all night and slept all day...Skye handed the package to the elderly woman and then made her way down the stairs. A pang in her chest made her realise that she had missed Lila and the fun that they'd had during their formative years. She ran a hand through her still slightly damp hair and got back on with her job.

The city of Dys was exactly like the people whom lived within her houses. She could be crass and jovial near the docks as well as becoming high browed with fancy dresses near the palace. The lady city was multifacited down to her very backbone, architects of every era etching their names into her ribs and fleshing her out. She went from a half hearted skeleton to a sprawling mass of activity in a matter of decades.

The older buildings were dispersed between the more recent structures, other older buildings having long ago fallen and become ruins. One of these ruins was Olin Manor, the late Lady Olin had lost her parents at an early age and once she had come of an age to be married she was snapped up swiftly. However her husband died one particularly hard winter where an incurable lung rot spread through the city until the Crown's mages interviened. Lady Olin survived the lung rot but became barren, dying of heartbreak soon after she buried her husband. The manor fell into disuse for most of the time and no one reclaimed it. But because the imposing stone structures were crumbling, the reason that many cobble children knew of Lady Olin was surprising.

She was said to have let the thieves hold meetings within her manor when the winter months covered Dys in snow. Her reasoning had been that it was better for thieves to be warm when discussing things of great importance than struggling with the cold and their tempers. The treaty that the Alliance had with Lady Olin was that their members were forbidden to steal any item from the Olin Manor even if it became a ruin. Their treaty still stood today and the only structure within the crumbling grey beast was the Great Hall and the covered corridor that lead to it.

Rumours swirled that Lady Olin and the three Thief Leaders magicked them to endure despite the rest of the house falling into neglect. Olin Manor was one of many meeting places the Tickle pockets used intermitently, a lot of them were underground and quite hard to get to without help. The history of many of the places was known to very few and the security of these select locations were often policed with some of the harder hitting fellows in the Alliance. Her mind flew as she tried to sort through rumours that she'd heard as a child, working out possible meeting sites and discarding the ones that were too easily accessible.

In her minds eye she pulled up a hurriedly constructed map of the city, back alleys with access to the underground tunnels. The tunnels all lead out to the sea to prevent flash flooding during autumn, the season in which they got almost a third of their anual rainfall in four short weeks. After a few moments she had pinpointed three useless places, two possible and one definite meeting location. As she was handed a small letter in response to a message from a travelling minstrel, she jerked back to the present and the map vanished from her mind. She'd do this later.

She was paid for her troubles and the last message of her shift was almost upon her, a message to Lady Beverly in the Silk district. She smiled wryly and on her way past the Inn she delivered the reply to the minstrel and went up the slope towards the manor houses behind the Golden Gates. A guard stopped her and she flashed her seal at him before clearing her throat.
"Message for Lady Beverly." she saw his brows furrow for a moment before he opened the gate to her and she slippe through the fabled gates.

The gates weren't actually gold, she didn't know what metal they were but their ornate designs changed for each season due to the magic in them. The sun and fireworks for the summer, flowers and woodland animals for spring, leaves for the harvest months and lastly snow flakes and metal swirls to symbolise wind for Snowfall or winter. Right now the gate was halfway between summer and changing to the harvest display. However she had to hurry before the sun set and the delivery hours closed.

Her boots thudded hollowly against the lighter grey cobbles as she came to the avenue that Lady Beverly lived on. The maple trees lining the well cared for community gardens already starting to turn on their autumn charms before they became leafless for the first breath of snow. The young woman stopped at a hulking cream stone beast and passed through the gate as easily as could be, delivering her last message just in time and being paid as the lanterns were being lit up the street.

She sighed in relief and headed back the way she'd come, slipping back out to the world that she belonged in. The community behind the Golden Gates was beautiful and welcoming to a point, but she'd never be truly able to be at peace within those walls. She enjoyed working hard to give her brothers a good role model to look at. The only way she would ever feel able to stay out of the depths of the city's underbelly however was to ultimately find a post at one of those fancy houses.

But she'd already received a tentative offer from Lord Grayson for both of her brothers to become either stable hands or messengers themselves once their schooling ended. Lord Grayson bred horses just outside the city limits but had a house within the Golden Gates. The reason that he'd set his eyes on her brothers was that he'd seen them in action, helping her during their holidays as that was when the most messages needed to be moved about the city. He had been impressed at their speed of delivery and Skye had sworn her brothers to secrecy about their job offers as soon as they'd left the well off man's stylish home. The last thing she needed was their mother staking a claim on their earnings for her own gain and she had had no doubt whatsoever at the time that their mother would have done exactly that.

She received her pay from the Inn and went home to greet her brothers and help them with work that school had sent them home with, whatever help she could offer that is. The Dragna were never prompt at arriving in the Night Markets so she had time to spare for her siblings. They worked quietly and by the time they were finished she had learned a lot more than she had bargained on, numeracy was seeping in through their willingness to teach her and in turn for her to eplain how to figure it out.

Her brothers loved her help, as had....well, they still had to raise enough money for Orica to have a proper burial. The Queen would provide the headstone, as was custom for murder victims, but they still had to come up with enough to cover her casket and an appropriate burial site. However she had to push this out of her mind as she left their dwelling again to go scope out the individuals working in the Night Markets that night.