"Issac is not the boss of me, no matter what he says," Elia quipped, her tone still a little amused. "You... well, yes, I suppose you are. Even so." She would accept the leniency that he was offering with grace; she wasn't interested in anything else the Cirque had to offer for the evening. Kennet's trailer was more inviting, private and calm... and for once, he didn't seem to mind her presence.
Picking up her wine, Elia pulled her legs over where Kennet's were sprawled regally, standing in order to wander around the living area. It was something to do, and her movements filled the trailer with the soft sound of the chains brushing together along with her steps. "Is this done, then? This mess with the Ripper?" She glanced over her shoulder. "You've taken care of it?"