Quick OOC Explanation: Posted with Saerra's knowledge and slight collaboration. Wisti and I had an entertaining idea and a bit of spurring from our Muses this evening, resulting in an idea for a past client of Fiona's. Saerra was kind enough to grant us permission to use up one of the allowed threads for the Teahouse game to post it in so that others can read it if they like. It will most likely be our only side-thread... And while it will be a one-shot, it's conclusion will likely take a number of days to reach. And with that.. we hope you enjoy~<br/><br/><div align="center">~*~*~*~</div><br/>The sun shone down gently on the city, putting a gleam into the paved streets. Passerby made their way up and down the sidewalks, some in formal attire, others less fortunate in station dressed more practically. They were all avoided equally by the slender, waif-like lady who delicately picked her way through the sunbathed streets. With a nod to the other occupants of the street she was able to avoid most direct interaction. For those curious enough to intentionally strike up conversation despite her avoidance the lady put up a polite facade of comfort.<br/><br/>Her path through the city was relatively short, but to Lorraine it felt like a rather long journey. The bustle of her rich green skirts carried to her ears with every step, accented by the click of her shoes against the pavement. Never had she been so thankful for the shade provided by her parasol, but she attributed that to the purpose of her visit.<br/><br/>She rounded a corner of the street, offering a light curtsy to a gentleman going the opposite way and her pale, brown eyes found the building front she was looking for.<em>'The Teahouse..'</em><br/><br/>Her steps faltered at the curbside as she looked at it, her modest sensibilities causing her to question her actions again, but she shook her head sending the rich, chocolate curls of her hair spilling over her shoulders.<em>'I need to do this. I need to do this for myself and for my engagement.'</em>A long sigh slipped past her full, pink lips as she looked down at her attire.<br/><br/>Pale, slender fingers gloved in the same green color as the fabric of her dress twisted around the handle of her parasol.<em>'I can do this.. If I'm paying for him.. He will be sweet.'</em>Her fine eyebrows knit together, drawing a crease in her forehead as she forced back the dark thoughts that had brought her to this decision. The Teahouse was the single most respected whore house in Ivore... But it was still a whore house.<br/><br/><em>'I can't be seen.'</em>The thought brought a rush of heat to her cheeks and she adjusted the parasol so the shade fell more thoroughly across her face. The sun's angle in the sky made that relatively easy and now half of her gracefully curved form lay in shadow.<br/><br/>After a swallow and another breath of air she moved forward, not toward the Teahouse, but toward the side road nearby that would let her access an entry not situated on the main street. Each step forward brought with it more resolve in her decision. Better still, each step along the side street meant getting further from the crowds of the main. When she was safely out of sight of the main street the lady rested her free hand against the wall of a nearby building.<br/><br/><em>'Alleyways.. No place for a proper lady..'</em>Her mother's voice echoed in her mind, but she let it fall to the way side as she stilled her thoughts and took another long breath. Here she did not need to be perfectly composed, but in front of others she must be. The shallow curve of her bosom fell slowly with her sigh as she rubbed just the tip of her middle finger against the wall. The fabric dragged slightly, audibly in the quiet of this sunny day, and the sound of it brought focus.<br/><br/>"I know what I'm doing," it was a lie, but a necessary one. Healing was her motivation, but this desperate gambit might not have been the proper reaction to the circumstances which prompted her. Gloved hand fell free of the coarse surface of the wall and she moved forward, a sway in the generous curves of her hips. The stables of the Teahouse came into view as the last of the heated blush faded from her pale cheeks.<br/><br/>With very careful steps she entered the building, folding her parasol and now letting it rest by her side and move naturally with the sway of her hips. The bustled skirt she wore was gathered tastefully and falling in layers about her slender legs. She had to be careful with her footing in a stable, but this entrance would mean she had much less chance of being seen or recognized.<em>'I always wondered how a patron of such a place hoped not to be discovered... And look at me now...'</em><br/><br/>Graceful motion carried her forward without alarming any of the horses or alerting the stable hands of her presence. She was, perhaps, too accustomed to the intricate clothing of the time - or at least that was the thought that trickled through her mind as she mused briefly on her quiet passage... And then she reached the door.<br/><br/>Her intake of breath gave a small swell to her pale bosom as once more she questioned her decisions, fingers hovering above the surface of the portal. When the moment of hesitation passed the delicate lady committed to her course with a gentle knock upon the entryway.