[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/b320BZk.png[/img][/center][indent][indent][indent]Mister Violet had not been wrong about the carriage, and Moses was more than happy to be free of this damnable forest and its confining branches. Once they erupted from the woods, much like a wave breaking on the beach—he used the limb in his hand to scrape the mud off his shoes to the best of his ability before ditching it. He didn’t offer it to Mister Violet, because quite frankly the other was more than elated to be around other people that he could surgically remove the ears off of from chatter. And he didn’t ask the Madmoiselle, because honestly she seemed light on her feet and he didn’t care to insult her further by inferring otherwise.

A daring young woman poked her head out and addressed them, seemingly happy to have seen them pour from the forest like poison from a bottle. On top of that, they weren’t the only ones. Moses gave them a side glance before pursing his lips in thought. Apparently, they were all headed towards Wilde Hall. He had assumed they were quite late. Lo and behold, if that was the case, then everyone was late.

[b][color=ac2100]“Mister Violet, Madmoiselle Noir, after you both. I’ll see about sittin’ with the driver.”[/color][/b] He flicked the cigarette to the side. [b][color=ac2100]“I would hate to keep you two from rubbin’ shoulders—literally and figuratively.”[/color][/b] Moses offered a smile underneath his thick, gray mask. It was probably the most he’d emoted this entire time, beyond his attempt a joke with the Madmoiselle—something that her demeanor and words had cut down immediately. But it was time for him to wear two masks, even if his lip was a bit cut and his tooth a bit chipped for it to be entirely smooth.

Moses moved towards the front of the carriage with intent, sliding his hands in his pockets and pulling the jacket closer to him. He didn’t like the look of the other man in the group waiting to board the carriage—the thin and pale one. He was too charming. Hells, the whole lot of them were entirely too bubbly and smiley for his tastes. But this was how one made money. Cash wasn’t buried underneath pulled teeth and broken fingers. It was here.

[b][color=ac2100]”Mind if I take a sit?”[/color][/b] He asked the driver.
[/indent][/indent][/indent]
[sup][@Romero][@Penny][@Prosaic][/sup]