In just a matter of moments Mulm had taken control of Cook's Place. She was no stranger to tumbling or tumblehouses, and she couldn't think of a better woman for the job, really. Cook had chosen well.

The first thing to do, she thought, was to investigate the safe Cook had mentioned in the basement. Unusual that he would choose her birthday as the combination -- not thinking that it could be a sentimental choice on the old man's part, Mulm assumed that he had changed it in anticipation of her arrival. Her old bones found that going down the stairs of the tall tenement was much easier that going up them; she hoped her new quarters would be below the house rather than above. Who cared about a view, anyway, when you had knees that had seen far more than their share of bending in their youth?

Compared to the opulence of the brothel's lobby, the multiple floors of poor apartments above it seemed much more shabby than they probably were, but left a distinct impression on the Madame. The first people she helped in this wicked town would be those who shared her proximity -- she'd see that a carpenter and some painters paid these people a visit soon. No doubt all the human habitation in this town were in need of some fixing and upping, that was how the galdori liked it.

In the basement, Mme. Mulm found the safe as Cook had advised. Inside were what looked like several months of the business' profits, as well as some accounting documents, as expected. But much to her surprise, as she rifled through the papers Mulm discovered a resistance pamphlet, then another, and another -- there was a whole store of them, mostly reprints, waiting to be delivered to the willing masses.

That might explain why he had to leave town in such a hurry, Mulm thought, surprised to find that a man she had known to be nothing short of cavalier about the state of the world had finally taken a serious interest in it -- especially when it clearly wasn't to his own gain. But if Cook had been distributing resistance information, there was no telling what other extra services the tumblehouse had been offering, and that was something that pleased Mulm very much.

She decided to move the pamphlets to less conspicuous location, then moved quickly up to the main floor to address her new employees -- the Madame was quite curious about their part in the running of the business.

Sarinah sauntered around, kneeling down to purr to men lounging in the hot pool and stroking the jaws of men sitting on tables, carrying a cup to gather coin. As soon as she had enough coin, or they started complaining, she would begin dancing.

Tonight, she felt off though. Cook hadn't been inside when she walked into the main entrance, and none of the girls seemed to quite know where he was. Of course, Cook had his own life, but during business hours the man was usually quiet easy to locate.

Some of the girls whispered about a woman who had come in earlier. Older in years, but still attractive. Apparently she'd had business with Cook. Perhaps his taste in women aged with him? Shaking herself mentally, Sarinah smiled slyly at the last man, a brown haired doe eyed youth, and he dumped two shill in her cup. With a wink, she turned away. She paused, standing in the back entrance was a rather gracefully attractive older woman. She was dressed in purple and adorned with gold.

What struck the dancer then was, she still didn't see Cook. Her suspicions began to rise, and she stood, one hand on a cocked hip, watching the woman.

Mme. Mulm glanced around the main area of the business, letting her eyes adjust to the dimly lit room. The decor was steeped in scarlet hues, which was certainly appropriate for such an establishment, but so dull without any contrast for accent. Mulm would seek out a seamstress for some room refreshment soon, yes, and perhaps a mason to lay a new mosaic around the steamy pool. Cook had done well to dress the building with an exotic flavor -- customers would pay well for an escape from their drab everyday lives -- but Mulm, with her eye for fashion, could do better.

As for her new employees, Mulm noticed that they were a pretty lot, but supposed that lovely girls would be easily available in the capital city, where human populations were booming. The old woman's eyes flitted from body to body, appraising face, physique, and technique as she went, silently forming a hierarchy of potential in her mind. Eventually, her eyes settled on a particularly fetching young dancer: tall and slim with a body the men obviously savored, she stood facing Mulm with a haughty posture, face a mask of suspicion within a curtain of black hair. Obviously, the girl had taken notice of her new employer.

Mulm decided to speak with the other girls later, after the clientele had stumbled home, but this girl couldn't wait. A knowing smile snaked its way across Mulm's face as she sauntered over to the olive-skinned wick, put a hand on the girl's arm and drew her away from her disappointed onlookers into an unoccupied room. Once away from prying eyes, she put out her hand for a prim handshake.

"Of all the girls, you were the first to notice me standing where Cook ought to be; and for your attentiveness I grant you the privilege of being the first to know that I am your new employer. You may call me Madame Mulm." Mulm stated matter-of-factly. "May I be so honored to know the name of my new employee?"

Sarinah looked at the outstretched hand, before hesitantly reaching out to shake it.

"Sarinah Lissden, Madame. Forgive me if I offend you at all, but can I ask, did you acquire this tumblehut from Cook without bloodshed? Because to be perfectly honest, I was rather fond of that dirty old man, and it would be a shame if he was dead." She narrowed her eyes. She liked this womans attitude, but Cook was almost a friend, in a gross and disjointed way.

Mulm's heavy-lidded eyes did not so much as twitch at Sarinah's question. Instead, her smile grew wider: so Cook had some friends after all. But in what respect had Sarinah known him, other than employee and employer...had their relationship been purely personal, or had she been in on Cook's dealings with the resistance?

"Don't worry about Cook -- for now, let us say that he is on vacation. We're old friends, Cookie and I, and he asked me to step in for him while he's away. You see, I have plentiful experience in the business, and he knew he'd be leaving his place in good hands with me." Mulm brushed an invisible crumb from her expensive burnished gurdle, a hint of her success to the wick dancer -- rarely did a human have funds enough to feed his family, much less to partake of the world of fashion.

"At any rate, I'll be taking care of things from now on. The business will continue, but there will be changes. I don't think Cook would object to some changes, as long as they are for the benefit of the place, do you?" Mme. Mulm placed a hand on Sarinah's shoulder and cooed conspiratorily, "I will need someone to help streamline me into things as I adjust, and you clearly have a sharp eye. Cook may have been a one man show, but I could certainly use a second in command."

Like many girls tired of the tumbling lifestyle, Mulm thought perhaps this wick was tired of selling her body for entertainment -- most girls in that position would seize at the opportunity to take on a higher role in the business. And Mulm knew from experience that, once relieved of the need to sell their flesh, most girls would work hard to maintain those privilges.

Mulm smiled blandly, giving no inkling of inner dialogue. Instead, she squeezed Sarinah's shoulder to inspire a feeling of warmth, motherliness even.

"Might you have interest in improving your lifestyle, my darling?"

Sarinah mulled this for a moment, before deciding that the woman was telling the truth. She nodded and rested her hands on her hips casually.



The brunette raised an eyebrow. Changes to Cooks would definitely benefit the place. It could use a womans touch to make it a little more inviting. And a second in charge? Now she really had the dancer's attention. Was Mulm suggesting she didn't have to dance anymore? The idea sent a little thrill up her spine.



Sarinah looked at her with dark, chocolate eyes. Her heart pounded a little, and she took a moment to phrase her reply.

"I've been working for this place for four years. I started as a tarot reader, then some how Cook roped me into dancing. I'll admit, not one of these girls knows how to dance on the pole, but its not hard to learn. And the customers love it. To be honest with myself I actually enjoy using the pole, good exercise." She took a breath.

"But to step out of this role, Madame Mulm, I desire nothing more. Consider me on board." She grinned, a huge exuberant, free smile. Something in her lifted, she didn't feel so trapped. And then, part of her panged. Rovin...when would she see him again? Now she wanted nothing more than to speak to him. To be advised by him, to be held...she shook off the thoughts quickly. Now was not the time to get reminiscent.

"What do you want me to do?"

Mme. Mulm was pleased that Sarinah had taken the bait offered with such exuberance. She hoped that her eagerness to be of service would not wain -- even if her new duties were somewhat unsavory at times. But learning that would come in due time; for now, Mulm's needs were straightforward.

"I understand how one role in the whorehouse often evolves into another -- often to the detriment of the person participating. But occasionally, that role evolution is to her benefit, as I hope you will feel in this case." Mulm flashed her smile again, then continued. "You need only dance when the mood strikes you, and I'm sure the customers won't object to any occasional attention. But for the most part, I need you to be my guide to Vienda and to this business of Cook's."

"In Muffey I knew all the shop owners, even the most famous tailors and seamstresses...but here the political climate is much different. In Muffey, everyone worked toward the same goal, human and galdor alike: obtaining as much wealth as possible. But here...it's clear to me already that the galdori are not much inclined to human success. Lines are clearly drawn between classes here in Vienda, and I need to know who can be trusted. Aside from tumbling being illegal and all, there are also some other matters Cook has left me that need not reach galdori ears." Mulm wasn't sure how much to give away to a girl she had only just met, but trusted that Sarinah understand the subtler implications of what Mulm was saying.

Sarinah nodded quietly, her arms crossed in front of her. So she needed help in integrating herself into the city and the business.



The dancer scoffed as though it was the understatement of the year. The galdori were the bane of all. Big headed magicians.



Cocking an eyebrow, the brunette nodded again.

"He wants you to keep the Party going then rosh?" Her eyes held Mulms, and although her voice was casual, her gaze was direct.

"I am not an attendee of the Party, but I know a lot more than Cook believes. Its hard not to know in a business like this. Men talk when they are comfortable. You need information, give me five minutes alone with a man, I'll get it for you. I'm your girl Madame."

((Cart: Sorry for not making myself clear -- was alluding to the few of Muffey's non-galdor population having made a name of themselves in that town in legitimate business -- which doesn't seem to happen at all elsewhere. Mulm just knows she has to be more cautious in Vienda than she once was.

Sarinah: Sorry for the long delay! I have a hard time splitting my hairs of free time, lol.))


Once again Mme. Mulm found herself surprised. It was only her years of steeling herself against expressing her true emotions that saved her from giving a near stranger a glimpse into her inner thoughts. The girl may know of the Party and Cook's involvement in it, but it was always best to openly admit nothing more than necessary, even if certain information was guessed. Instead, Mulm merely nodded as if she had known what Sarinah would say all along.

"Glad to hear such enthusiasm, Miss Lissden. Cook must have been blind to keep you chained to the poles, as we say. Your talents will be of much more use obscured from men's eyes, rather than held greedily by them," Mme. Mulm said as she slipped off one of her smaller rings, handing it to the dancer as a token of her betrothal-in-service to the Madame and her cause.

Mme. Mulm was very pleased with how this first interview had progressed. Just as she had always deemed her meeting with Radamus a touch of fate unfolding, she sensed that this meeting with the dancer Sarinah Lissden had considerable portent of its own.

Sarinah took the ring, turning it in her fingers, watching the way it shone. Then she slipped it onto her right ring finger with a small nod. She smiled a little.

"I think Cook may have been a little more excited about the money I was earning than the talents I brought to the table." The dancer tucked her hair behind her ears. What a night it had been so far.