The man's face had just enough time to start to contort from surprise to alarm before Zhi bowled between him and the woman he'd been -- well, no harm if she helped herself to the pile of clothing, offering naught but a cheeky grin and a slammed door in her wake. A shriek rose up behind her, high and feminine and indignant, and Zhi stored away the memory of their bodies for another time. Meanwhile, she had a hat to jam over her head, a man's shirt and a skirt that didn't quite go together but would do in a pinch.
She stripped and dressed as she walked down the hall, leaving one very confused (and sore, given her elbow to his nose) cabinboy in her wake. Seven doors down, she tried a room and found it locked. Out came the pins, sweat starting to bead on her brow, and she attacked the lock with the vigor of the damned. The mechanisms were heavy, causing her to waste precious seconds. And even after that, there was a bolt to wrestle with and -- Nald'thal, tip it damn you -- she wrenched the door open, slipped inside, and slammed it behind her.
Three people had seen her. Two would recognize the clothing she wore presently, and as for the rest, she balled it up and shoved it into a barrel. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness -- she was in some sort of storage room -- and she went straight to the shuttered window. She drew back the shutters, and found the window sealed. Outside the thick, warped glass, she could see the heavy mooring chain she'd intended to crawl down.
"Fuck, fuck," she hissed, banging her fist once, twice against the glass. She wasn't going to break it.
She cast around, and started in on one of the closed barrels. Something in here would help her escape.
She just had to find it first.
She stripped and dressed as she walked down the hall, leaving one very confused (and sore, given her elbow to his nose) cabinboy in her wake. Seven doors down, she tried a room and found it locked. Out came the pins, sweat starting to bead on her brow, and she attacked the lock with the vigor of the damned. The mechanisms were heavy, causing her to waste precious seconds. And even after that, there was a bolt to wrestle with and -- Nald'thal, tip it damn you -- she wrenched the door open, slipped inside, and slammed it behind her.
Three people had seen her. Two would recognize the clothing she wore presently, and as for the rest, she balled it up and shoved it into a barrel. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness -- she was in some sort of storage room -- and she went straight to the shuttered window. She drew back the shutters, and found the window sealed. Outside the thick, warped glass, she could see the heavy mooring chain she'd intended to crawl down.
"Fuck, fuck," she hissed, banging her fist once, twice against the glass. She wasn't going to break it.
She cast around, and started in on one of the closed barrels. Something in here would help her escape.
She just had to find it first.
