That didn't go all that badly, actually. Mildly surprised, Syrgei still wonders just how optimistic he should allow himself to get.

He looks at BAG, before talking to Gambooges, stating more than asking, "that wasn't BAG, was it?"

Largely ignoring the no-doubt thrilling conversation unfolding behind her, Tsaerri leads her two companions through the quiet streets of the lower Western Commons that make up her neighborhood. Passing off-duty carpenters and gardeners, they raise more than a few eyebrows with the hefty piece of machinery trundling along behind them, but no one accosts them. It doesn't take long to reach the secluded half-house tucked into a shadowy corner of the city wall that serves as her home.

And of course, the door is hanging open. Tsaerri just stops and stares at it flatly, neglecting to even comment.

"Both legs, and slashed tendons in her wrists, and I tied her to a chair. I told you these people were badass." Tsaerri neglects to mention that it occurred to her afterward that the assassin could have simply summoned a phantasm to untie her and carry her away. Oops. She takes a step to her right and taps Gambooge on the shin with the toe of her boot. "You go make sure it's safe inside."

"Wowwwwww, I kick a guy in the shin one time and he thinks I'm some kind of maniac." She rolls her eyes and strides away from him. "I guess I'll have to look around myself. Glad you two big, strong men are here to keep me safe."

She comes up next top Syrgei and peers inside, not seeing or hearing anything out of sorts. "Right," she mutters, taking a second to retrieve her blindfold and tie it back on. "Not making the same mistake twice."

Pistol in one hand, sword in the other, Tsae very bravely, very confidently sends a pair of clones in to check the place out for her. There's a muffled crash as one of them trips over a chair in the unlit building. Nothing else exciting seems to be forthcoming. There aren't many places to hide inside.

"I mean, there's a hundred tricks she could have pulled to escape. I honestly thought she would be in shock from all the pain and blood loss, but Gods only know how she did it. She could be halfway to Cantha by now for all I know." Letting her illusions go, she takes her blindfold off again and steps inside.

"Might as well come in," she mutters to the men behind her, seating herself lazily on the kitchen table, legs swinging. "I'm just gonna sit here and think about how much mesmers suck. You guys come up with a plan. There's wine in the fridge."

"Well, since you're offering. The place is kind of a mess, huh? I'm sure your robot would love to help." Not paying him too much mind, Tsae unzips her boots one at a time and kicks them. Her feet are still sore from earlier. She sets about massaging her poor ankles through her butterfly-dotted socks.

Hopping up from her perch on the table and suddenly realizing that she hasn't eaten in the very long time, Tsaerri rummages around in her cupboards until she finds her favorite sugared crackers and begins snacking on them, leaning back against her counter. Deciding they're a little bland, she nabs the salt from behind her and dumps a generous helping into the bag, giving it a vigorous rustle.

"You know," she comments between bites. "It has a point. You were the one who suggested it." Tsae withdraws another cracker, flipping it between her fingers. "I'll tell you what. You use your fancy water magics and clean my floor, and you can have some of my crackers. Deal?"

Tsae looks on as the scene unfolds, cracker in hand midway to her mouth as her beautiful purple-dyed Canthan lion-skin rug gets spattered with Gambooge's groceries. With aching slowness, she finishes her bite, loudly, ominously crunching the cracker.

"Gambooge," she says in a voice probably horrifying for its lack of outrage, "do you have any idea how much that rug you just ruined cost? No, don't bother thinking, I'll tell you. It was six. Hundred. And eighteen. Gold. And ninety-three silver. And you do NOT want to know where I got the money for it."

She calms herself with another cracker. "Now, we might have an assassin cult after us, but trust me, Gambooge, darling, that rug just became your number one priority." Tsae gestures obliquely and summons a clone right next to the temperamental wizard. "I don't know if you're aware, but, you happene to be one of the people I hate the least in the entire world, so I want you to know, I would nevvvvver, evvvvver do anything to hurt you." She pops a third cracker into her mouth, chomping on it emphatically. "And as your caring friend, I feel like you should know, that phantasm right there hates your guts. And if that rug isn't better than new in an hour, she's going to kick your shins into pudding."

The mesmers brows knit in feigned worry. "I really hope you'll be okay. She can be a bitch like that."

"Wow, you're amazing at understatements. Do another one!" Tsae wraps up the crackers for now, tossing them back on the counter. "Cause from where I'm looking, my rug-that-costs-more-than-your-life is "wet" with disgusting chicken embryos. I mean, don't worry, Gamby, we're cool, but my friend there seems pretty pissed. Maybe pick up the pace a tic."

There's a tiny, underused part of Tsaerri's brain that's actually enjoying this whole... interacting with other humans and not wanting to murder them (okay, she kind of does want to kill Gambooge now, but that started like two minutes ago) thing. But then there's the rest of her mind that keeps reminding her she isn't a teenage girl having a couple of boys over while her parents are out, and this is really just a dangerous waste of time. She shudders involuntarily, recollecting the beating the other mesmer gave her just a few hours ago.

"Hey!" Tsaerri snaps as Syrgei squeezes into the room. "Don't get in his way, he's busy!" She makes a point of not offering him any of her crackers.

She's still a little shaken, remembering how close she came to losing her life earlier, and with the drugs and wine withering in her system, the pain from her injuries is coming back to trouble her as well. It's probably nothing serious, she just isn't used to getting hit like that, and the emotional bruise is pretty sore as well.

"Honestly," she says to him with all the weariness that's weighing her down, "if we were smart and valued our lives, we'd skip town, but... in this instance, I'm not sure how much it'd help. They should never have been able to find me in the first place."

She tugs out her pigtails and takes a second to tie her hair in a looser ponytail low on her neck. "You should probably tell the Seraph you're looking into it at least," she tells Syrgei. And then to Gambooge, "*ahem*, Temporarily-indentured servant, would your long-distance girlfriend there happen to know anything about the White Mantle?"

"Wow. Guess he didn't like my house. Couldn't wait to get out of here. Good riddance."

Tsaerri paces around to observe Gambooge's progress, letting her threatening clone disperse without acknowledgement. "That's true," she affirms, narrowing her eyes as she sees him still messing around with his stupid, sodden cake. "Just think of how productive we could be if you could have just behaved yourself." She crosses her arms, staring at him. "Are you prone to childish outbursts like that?"

The sting of that unexpected insult hitting her full-force, Tsaerri does her best to not to give away how much that comment just hurt her. Endeavoring to keep her voice steady, she asks Gambooge, "So... are you, like, socially handicapped or something? Is that why your only friend is an abusive golem? I graciously invite you to my house, and all you've done so far is make a huge mess and insult me." There's a tiny quaver in her voice. "Kind of not cool, man."

Tsae keeps staring at him for a moment longer, asking with a quirked brow, "Is that your way of telling me you want me out of your hair while you clean?"

Tsaerri eyes the elementalist flatly. "That's not a flattering sound there, Gamby. You probably shouldn't make it again." She winks at him. "Just some friendly advice."

Groaning, stretching, and yawning simultaneously, Tsae reluctantly agrees to his suggestion. "You're probably right. A bath and a short nap would probably go a long way." Sliding off her gloves as she heads toward her bathroom, she calls back to him, "If you even think about stealing anything or trying to peek in on me... well, you know."

Tsae closes the door quietly behind her, letting out an exhausted breath. It almost feels strange, after everything that's happened today, to finally be alone. She takes a second to light some of her scented candles and starts the water for her bath. Looking at herself in the mirror while it fills, she has to agree that she looks like a wreck. There's a slackness to her cheeks and a glazed look of defeat in her eyes that no amount of makeup can hide. She dips a cloth in the warm water and begins to rub it off.

Wriggling her shirt over her head, she winces looking down at the discolored skin of her stomach and winces again as she probes it with a finger, sending a ripple of pain through her muscles. At least nothing seems to be broken.

Slipping out of the rest of her clothes, she eases herself down into the bath and tries to let it all go. For now at least.

“About as could be expected” Syrgei responds to the mage as he walks up to the house. He leans with his back to the wall next to the door. “Of course there isn't much to talk about without going into detail and potentially having the Seraph take a closer look at her than she would probably like.” He crosses his arms and eyes the ground as though he might find his thoughts down there. “I honestly don't know where we go from here. Do we just wait or...oh.”

Looking at Gambooge directly, Syrgei just now notices the elementalist's sodden clothes and slightly 'worked' appearance, and the fact that it might be something of an annoyance to him.

“Do you need to get a change of clothes? I can watch things here.”

Thoroughly cleaned, oiled, perfumed, and equipped with fuzzy pajamas and comfy striped socks, Tsaerri lies nestled in a cocoon of silk blankets and fluffy pillows. A fresh blindfold and a pair of pink earmuffs insulate her from the outside world as the chemicals lingering in her body drag her quickly off to sleep. Maybe it isn't so bad to have a guy around the house after all, she can just sleep and pamper herself all day while he does all the work. Hell, she has money, she can just hire Gambooge as her butler probably. What, is he going to refuse? “Oh, ya, Tsae, I'd like, totally love to get paid for shacking up with the cutest girl in Kryta, but I've got... Gamboogey things to do. Like getting immiserated by a little rat-terrier bitch two continents away on a daily basis. But are you sure, Tsae? That sounds like something you would say, not me. Plus, you'd probably just shoot me if we moved in together anyway!”

He has a point. She probably would.

Tsae's very soundly asleep by now.

Syrgei sighs, pulling off his glasses and rubbing his forehead, still leaning against the wall. This is enough snark for one day.

He steps away from the wall, "do what you need to do. If you don't need me for anything, I'll be inside."

“I don't plan to.”

Entering the home, Syrgei quietly closes the door, taking Gambooge's word that Tsaerri would be asleep, seemingly confirmed by the lack of noise inside the house. Leaving his boots by the door -after a bit of well-practiced work to get them off- as a courtesy, Syrgei sits in one of the chairs by a table and shrugs his coat over the back of it, removing the extra weight from his shoulders, then leans his elbows on the table and attempts to work out just what has been going on for the past couple of days.