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Suddenly, fiddles. Exciting fiddles, at that. Then, just as abruptly, no fiddles. What a strange fellow she had managed to engage. She frowned when he voiced his appraisal of her demeanor, disappointed with herself. Aila had been trying her hardest to move away from the noble air her mother had insisted she keep about herself, but it seemed she wasn't there just yet...

"I came to town to find a dress in the first place, so that suits me fine. I hope a more normal gown would do, though." She shifted her weight to her opposite foot, her hips tilting in reply. "I have plans to wear it again some time in the future. Preferably in public, and preferably not to a Rococo costume ball." As for the fancy jewel shops, as he put it... Well, few were better acquainted than she with Camphoreon's finest jewels. Depending on what he had in mind, she anticipated she would be able to find the perfect store within a ten minute walk.

Infiltration and deception? That was exactly her department. Well, not yet. She'd need to speak with an elite before she would be transferred into the department proper. But it would be a good opportunity to put to use all of her studies, especially the hours she dedicated each day to reviewing theatrical productions.

"I see," she said. "It seems soundly planned. Almost as if you've been waiting for such a willing partner to appear." She couldn't help but wonder if he had many such plots stashed away in some secret notebook, waiting for the day he had the proper resources to enact them. "Do you have a back-up plan in case something goes awry?" There was, after all, always that chance. Aila had not had such a back-up prepared when she made her move against the bank however many weeks - months? - prior. Had she not learned Seth's name that night, she would have been forced to retreat in gainless disgrace.

'Tingly' seemed like an interesting way to feel, Aila mused, and she couldn't help but wonder about the implications of the word. Tingly as in the warm fuzzies? Tingly as in inexplicably excited? Yet in context the word seemed to suggest something more, some kind of innate evil that delighted in mischief and torment. Not as though Aila would judge him any differently for that. She merely wished to be aware of how much trust she would be able to place in this John. Thus far, the values were in the negatives.

She frowned at his plans, if they could even be called that. A plan was a process: a set of steps leading to an end. Anything else was improvisation, and improv was a dangerous game for a con man to play. Her hand went to her hip at the mention of pokemon.

"A Venusaur, a Misdreavus, and a Beldum," she listed, very matter-of-fact. "The Venusaur knows Sleep Powder, but her size makes her impractical for much beyond surprise attacks." In a way, she missed her little Bulbasaur, the perfect partner in both form and function. She couldn't quite bring herself to dislike the immense power Fleur had gained through evolution, though.

She considered the strategy carefully. On hearing John's strategy, she had already begun to narrow down their potential targets based on which were situated best compared to the surrounding streets and alleys. Taking into account the space Fleur's size would necessitate, she was able one or two different stores from her mental encyclopedia.

"That'll do," she conceded with a slight nod. "I'll need to have a word with her in private to explain my expectations, but that's for later, yes? For now I'd ought to see about this dress, and you about your own costume." The handcuffs, at least. Who knew just how well prepared he was for this operation...

Indeed, nicking uniforms from officers caught unawares and infiltrating some respectable institution was a tale best told in the same breath of scantily-concealed pitfalls and important buttons hidden behind tacky paintings. But John was a capable young man - that much was clear. If he wanted a fake uniform, he would have one.

Aila inclined her own head opposite John's when she noted him studying her once more. In all honesty, she thought, he was more the suspicious character than she. She decided that he must have been driven by some paranoia, some over-analytical mind that found her words and behaviors a point of intrigue. Her thoughts were brought back to the matter at hand by his proposal of a meeting time, however, and she immediately rifled through her short-term schedule, humming thoughtfully as she did so. The trainee exam was coming up soon, and she wanted to do a little extra preparation. Then there were her studies, her normal training regimen, Pitre's training lessons...

"I have some things to do in the next couple of days. Will three days from now be all right?"

Aila, too, took a moment to observe her appearance in a particularly reflective window. Her hair, dyed a lustrous mahogany, was tied up elegantly, accenting hazel eyes colored by cosmetic lenses. Tall heels concealed by the hem of her scarlet gown added a few inches to her height, bringing her to a more normal stature. She adjusted the matching crimson stole on her shoulders and proceeded on her way. The girl had issued her commands to her pokemon beforehand: Fleur would stand guard in the shadows of the alley that would act as their finish line, and Revenant... her job was special. The Misdreavus was already at her human's side, hidden from view by her ghostly talents and awaiting one of a few different signals that would determine her actions.

She approached the mouth of the dark alley moments before the arrival of a young policeman and turned to greet him, tilting her hips and shoulders into a graceful S-curve, "Good evening, officer." A cordial smile, glistening with hints of make-up, accompanied her words.

"I may," she said, maintaining the subtle curve of her lips. "There was a certain shop I wished to visit, and I think I may have misplaced something nearby..."

A pedestrian hurried past, as though late for an appointment, and Aila dropped her facade, along with the volume of her voice. "I've made a map." She pulled a folded square of paper out from the folds of her stole and slipped it discreetly into John's pocket as she strode delicately around him. The note's contents ranged from the address of the jewelry store she had chosen to the approximate height, width, and depth of the walls that framed their designated escape route. In short, a kind of mission brief. "Don't get excited. It's barely even a fraction of what I have to offer, assuming I'm impressed by this evening's performance." She took a place at the alley's corner, basking in a streetlight's dim amber glow. Fleur still needed to be put into position, and she needed some nuance or gesture to suggest the location of the all-important money.

"Oh my, how dreadful! Pokemon really should just stay with their trainers, shouldn't they?" she said, subtly inquiring why he had left his Eevee behind. One never knew when one would need assistance in that kind of setting, and it was always good to bring along a more trustworthy partner than a stranger one had met days prior.

"Why, thank you, sir. I'm familiar enough with where I'm going, but I worry that I must have lost my coin purse." Anyone might have mistaken the expression on her face as one of genuine concern, and she hoped that her acting would be similarly strong when it came to dealing with the store clerk.