Janelle listened intently to the explanation that Alex gave her, and to her, it was sound... although she was a bit disappointed. She really thought that Alex was going to plan a performance at some point later on... oh well, enough of a dream, and back to the now.

"Oh, I get it..." Janelle replied, nodding, "In that case, would you like me to make some coffee or tea for you two?"

Seeing the nod, Janelle quickly went about putting a kettle of water on to boil. Nervously, she continued to eye her watch, watching as it ever so slowly approached 12:00 Noon.

Downtown Chicago
One Museum Park

Tuesday 11:20am
From where he stood Tony Ziti could see three of himself, and he didn't care for what he saw. Under his tanning bed tan he seemed sallow, sweat had pulled his dark hair down closer to his skull and then had dribbled down to his forehead in large glistening beads. His eyes seemed unnaturally large and his lips were pulled thin and tight against his teeth. The box in his hands trembled, but he knew that it was his hands that caused it to tremble.

Swallowing hard he tried to pull himself together Come on Tony. Your doing good. Clive says Mr. Katul wanted to speak with him. Everyone has to speak to Mr. Katul before they can be initiated. He's just gonna feel you out Tony, feel you out and tell Clive to go ahead and initiate me. Then I'll be good.
The pep talk didn't do much good though. The three other Tony's riding up the elevator with him displayed in perfect clarity how terrified he was. The Boss would read it on him, smell it on him the moment he entered the room, and he wouldn't be impressed.

Time had run out to calm himself though. The elevator came to a silent stop, the old fashioned arrow pointing at the number 43. Slowly the mirrored doors slid open and a pleasant ding echoed around him. Taking a final breath he stepped off the elevator and found himself in a small white room. Massive mirrors flanking him, doubling him again and again as the images bounced back and forth. Ahead were double doors in heavy mahogany.

To the left a statue of black stone seemed to stand sentry. It was a cat, it seemed like a housecat in body, but it was much too large. Lips frozen in a perpetual snarl it hunched down on all fours as if preparing to attack whoever came near the door. Most intriguing, though, were the horns and the eyes. A pair of horns, like a goat's horns, curled out of the cat's head. Tony stared at the eyes that peered out from under those horns, they were bright red, rubies it seemed, but there was a spark to them that suggested intelligence. He shuddered and quickly pulled his eyes back to the doors.

To the right of the door another sentry stood, but this one was human; a tall black man with a shaved head. Mirrored sun glasses reflected Tony's image back to him once more, and Tony found himself wishing there were less mirrors around he'd be more comfortable if he didn't have to keep seeing his own fear in his eyes. He also considered that perhaps that was the point of the mirrors. The living sentry wore a sharp black suit with a blood red shirt under it with no tie, the first few buttons undone to reveal a golden medallion at the man's throat. It was a medallion Tony had come to recognize recently, one he hoped this meeting would procure for him.

The glasses turned more to his direction as he stepped forward, but the man didn't speak. So in a voice that sound like he looked Tony spoke first.

"Mr. Katul's lunch," and held the white box out for him.

The nose under the glasses nodded toward the box. Tony noticed then that the sentries hands were behind his back still. Then he noticed that he was staring and not paying attention to the silent request.

"Oh... yeah... sure... here..." He stuttered and finally flipped the lid of the box open, the smell hit him and he tried not to look disgusted. The guard did not seem bothered though and leaned forward to take a look then nodded before turning his head and whispering something into a mic that was hidden in his ear.

A moment later one of the doors opened and soft jazz music drifted out.

Gathering every last ounce of courage he had Tony stepped through the door. He had heard that Mr. Katul was eccentric, he had tried to prepare himself for anything, but eccentric seemed to be an understatement in Tony's opinion as his eyes took in the room he was in now.

The east wall was a window that overlooked downtown Chicago before the view opened up to the great Lake Michigan. It was a spectacular view. This high up there were no need for curtains and none were utilized so the afternoon sun bounced off the lake and shone into the room unfiltered. The sunlight lit up the white carpet until Tony felt it would nearly blind him. In an act that bordered on survival his eyes searched for something dark to stare at and found that the furniture was starkly black in contrast to the white floor and walls.

A leather living room set in the middle of the room. A black lacquered bar squaring up against the wall opposite the view. Behind it all a large black desk with two chairs sitting in front of it and one large chair behind it. The top of the desk was smooth and empty save for an old fashioned black and gold phone. There were no decorations in the room save for the immense painting in a gold frame that hung behind the desk. The painting was old looking and well protected by heavy glass. It was a demon rising up on a cliff, his red skin ending in horns. At the bottom of the cliff goats milled about under their master. It was an impressive painting and Tony gapped at it a few minutes. He let his eyes follow the line of the cliff down to the goats, noting how each one was slightly different then the one before it, the careful attention the artist had given to each one... and then he noticed that blocking the exact center of the bottom of the painting was the top of a head. Someone was sitting at the desk, someone Tony had not noticed in his inspection of the room.

Eccentric. The man, he had to be Mr. Katul, did not sit in the chair like most people would. Instead he crouched in it, his knees pulled up toward his chest, his arms pulled around his legs and laying on the desk while his chin rested atop the knees. He was perfectly clean and manicured, just like the room. His suit was of charcoal grey and had thin white pin stripes running through it, the shirt under it was a shiny off crisp white. The tips of the sleeves peeked out the end of the jacket sleeves and revealed cuff links that reminded Tony of the eyes on the cat statue out front. His skin was a very pale and almost dusted with a dull brown. It looked like one of those old sepia photographs. On the table his fingers were fanned out and ended in long nails that were shaped and had clear polish on them so they shone in the sunlight. Trying not to scream Tony raised his eyes to the face finally.

Bright blue almond shaped eyes stared back at him with interest. Thin lips curled into a smile that seemed to mock him. Over the lips a flattened nose flared it's nostrils almost constantly as it smelled the fear on Tony. The ears seemed slightly pointed, like an elf or something, but it was hard to tell if he imagined that trait on this strange person or not as the black soft hair on Mr. Katul's head was long and fell down to his shoulders.

With those blue eyes on him Tony suddenly wanted to run, he felt like prey, but he couldn't do that. Instead he stepped a bit closer to the table and held out the box. Katul smiled louder and his nostrils flared a bit more then he nodded toward the desk.

Tony had barely put the box on the flat surface when the long fingers reached over and drug it closer to him. The box was opened and the large complete fish wrapped in paper was pulled out and set right before him. He started to pull the paper open to inspect it and gestured toward one of the chairs. Nervously Tony sat down as he watched Katul inspect the fish and felt his stomach turn.

Finally Katul speaks, his voice is highly accented, but the accent is hard to place, it is a mix of many accents and it oddly seems that Katul is trying to make it sound more Italian.

"I've had a ****ty day. I'm depressed. Tell me a joke." The strange man grins and then laughs as he watches Tony's face simply drop. Unknown to Tony, Mr. Katul finds this delightfully ironic.

Tony's mouth just opens as he watches the man laugh, he had not prepared any jokes, what was this man talking about?

"I'm kidding Rocco..." and that wide grin again. The grin had distracted Tony from what Mr. Katul's hands were doing. It was only now, as one of those long fingernails, now laden with raw fish, slipped in between the lips as the fish was slurped inside. Tony was certain he could never eat fish again in his life.

"It's Tony... Mr. Katul... Tony Ziti..."

A thin brow arched upward, "And you think I give a **** what your name is?" came back the reply the Italian accent not nearly as accentuated now.

Tony sunk back into his chair.

Eccentric? This mother is a freak. I'm gonna kill Clive as soon I see him for not warning me about this guy
-slurp-

"hmmm... No Rocco... I wouldn't recommend that. I happen to like Clive, and... I don't recommend calling people names, especially not people who wouldn't think twice about killing...you..." -slurp-

Tony shot his eyes up and caught that last bit of fish slipping into Katul's mouth.

Did I say that out loud? I'm certain I didn't, maybe I did... Oh God...
"I... uh..."

"God has nothing to do with this Rocco," the smile widened.

"Now then..." -slurp- "Clive had good things to say about you cub. He says you wish to be initiated..."

Rocco, no his name was Tony he reminded himself, nodded eagerly, glad to have the conversation on something -real-.

"Do you know what is involved with an initiation, Rocco?" Katul rolls the "R" on Rocco this time heavily.

Tony shakes his head deciding to keep his voice and his mind as quiet as possible.

The grin widens and Tony thinks that he sees a set of pointed teeth behind the lips there. Tony fails to keep his mind clear at the sight of them Does he sharpen them?
"No," Katul responds, but to what exactly Tony is certain he'd rather not know. "Are you busy Friday night?" He goes on without a pause.

Again Tony shakes his head. While he does Katul gets another sliver of fish in his fingernail and brings it toward his mouth, but lets it pause there. Tony focuses on the pink pulpy mass resting on the underside of a fingernail and again feels his stomach try and turn again.

"Clive will pick you up Friday then." grin and then -slurp-

Head nodding this time.

"Good, now get out of my sight, I'd like to finish my lunch without you puking on it."

Tony grows pale at that nods and then quickly gets up. "Of course Mr. Katul... pleasure to met you by the way."

"Get out Rocco."

He does just that hurrying toward the door without looking back even as Katul raises his one hand and extends his index finger and laughs while exclaiming "I'll have a coke!"

Yeah that's right, go ahead and ignore me... Smoke commented as she rolled around on the floor with the twine.

She wondered how long it would take him to notice that the woman who stood before him was much more then just a pretty lady. Even if he couldn't see past the blanket he'd know she had ability. Inwardly she wished that Rosie had more awareness, she could talk to her now, start a bet on how long it will take him to notice anything more then her body, and how long it would take before he offered his bed to her. Although on second thought maybe suggesting to Alex that he should get laid wasn't such a good idea, that bed was hers, having to give it up for a night would be a great inconvenience, even for Alex.

But she seemed to have a job for Alex, and for the moment she was content to play here on the floor and let them ignore her so long as she was able to listen in on the conversation.

"Excuse me, Miss Rosa,"Alexander said as he gestured to a number of chairs throughout the shop. "Come on in and have a seat. I'll be right with you."

Pressing a finger to her lips Penelope watched him escort the girl to another room. The siren shook her head in disbelief, all that power and she was completely unaware of it. For now Penelope would let the girl remain ignorant of her potential. She had her own matters to deal with, and they did not include awakening a mortal girl to the Gift.

After the two disappeared through the hallway the siren glided across the room and took a seat in a chair next to a table. She gazed across the room at the bast and smiled knowingly. The grey feline remained fixated on the twine, but Penelope had little doubt the cat would be paying close attention to all that transpired.

Alexander returned from the hallway and moved through the room to take a seat across from her. "Sorry about that," he said as he spared a quick glance back to the hallway, "Rosie's a sweet kid but just a little bit on the random side... Anyway, Miss Rosa, you said there was much we had to discuss... where did you want to start?"

Penelope looked up at him cocking her head to the side. It was apparent that she made him nervous, an advantage she had every intention of taking advantage of. Leaning back Penelope crossed her legs letting her unbuttoned jacket fall open to reveal the slim top of her form fitting dress.

"Think nothing of it, corazon," she replied with a smile. "And you must call me Penelope. Now, as to why I've come..."

The siren reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a golden necklace with an ornate inverted pentacle hanging from it. She held the medallion out in front of her before letting it fall to the table.

"I presume," Penelope began, "That you know what this is."

Tip... toe... tip... toe...
The blond haired girl skipped merrily down the maze of alleys, not noticing or caring in the least that she was both pursuing and being pursued. She could hear the footsteps and harsh breathing of the man running away from her, not that it did any good. They were playing tag after all, and she always won. Not only that, but he was pretending to be afraid of her, which left such a sweet, refreshing scent in the air.

She suddenly pirouetted on the tip of her ballet slipper, a graceful spin made grotesque by the two... things... on her back. To the sane mind, one appeared to be a scarred, leathery wing, while the other appeared to be the remnants, just the bones of another. In truth, they weren't either of those things, but their true nature was beyond the mind's comprehension. Likewise, a tattoo on her forehead glittered and shifted. It appeared to be a neon green diamond with one bright red line reminiscent of an archaic minute hand. If one watched carefully, although doing so was strangely uncomfortable, they could swear that the hand moved of its own accord.

She grimaced as her pursuers came closer. They reeked of mint and black pepper.

"If you want to play tag with me, you'll have to take a shower first!" The girl said, wagging her finger at them even as they raised their pistols.

"Can it girl, or whatever the hell you are." One said toughly, even though his hands were notably shaking.

"Y-yeah, n-no one gets away with t-taking out our boss." The other stuttered, although his grip was shaking less than the other's.

The girl blinked. What were they-

BANG BANG
The two men squeezed the triggers in unison. The girl pirouetted, so one hit her in the leathery wing, but the other hit her directly in the middle of the strange tattoo upon her forehead.

"Good shot." The one man meant to say, but he wasn't even able to get the first syllable beyond his lips.

"OW!!! That really hurt!" The girl screamed and, despite her obvious pain, she remained standing. To her, one of the hits felt like a needle, but one that was crooked and askew, while the other felt like a hit with a baseball bat. The leathery wing twitched violently, flaring just slightly and mirrored by the other.

Unable to take the strangeness of the situation, the men faltered. They could've sworn that those wings were just a costume piece. Especially a gothic costume, considering the girl's lolita-style blue dress, as well as her rather pale skin.

In the girl's mind, a memory vaguely emerged. A warm, soothing voice.

"Alice, if people aren't playing nice with you, you should just tell them to go away."
Nodding to herself, Alice did just that.

"You're mean! Go away!"

The man that fired went pale, and he suddenly dropped his gun as he felt something cleave his heart in two. Something that strangely felt like a scythe.

Seeing his partner fall for no apparent reason, the other man's nerve broke, but instead of running, he let loose another two bullets. One went wide in his haste, but the other hit Alice soundly in the shoulder.

"OW!! I told you to GO AWAY!!!" Alice screamed.

The remaining man didn't even have time to gasp as he felt his life suddenly quenched by the Reaper. His body fell limply to the ground.

Now alone, Alice took in a deep breath. There was something sweet in the air... and it seemed to make her feel a bit better.

Standing up, since she had fallen, Alice dusted off her skirt.

"I guess I'll head home if no one wants to play with me..."

Alice began heading down a different alley, half singing, half murmuring.

Clock hands that come together,
Like our hands in rainy weather,
When they meet I'll look for you,
That was the promise, I remember too.
Where've you been all this while?
Do you no longer want to see me smile?
Your pretty aura I will find,
That sparkling of the sun out-shined,
How long has it been? I guess it's okay,
After all, maybe I'll find you today.
Reaching her 'home', which was really nothing more than an abandoned orphanage, Alice sat on her bed and wondered.

"Jen... you promised that you'd play with me forever... but... where did you go?"

Shaking her head, Alice lifted her hand, and felt her forehead. It throbbed still, but there was no sign of the bullet hole left. The same held true for the wounds in her shoulder and wing. However, her dress on the other hand was a mess, torn where she was hit in the shoulder, and also stained with her blood.

Alice sighed. "Looks like I'm going to have to fix my dress again..."

With that, she changed into her nightgown, and began washing her dress. She closed her eyes for a moment, imagining her mother's voice.

"My little angel, what's wrong?"
"I was good..." Alice murmured, "I'm a good angel... but why doesn't anyone like me?"

Alice scuffed her feet on the floor as she went over to her sewing kit, considering the threads and fabric within it. It looked like she would have to restock soon...

"Rosie's a sweet kid but just a little bit on the random side... Anyway, Miss Rosa, you said there was much we had to discuss... where did you want to start?"

Yeah, that's right, Smoke sniped as Alex settled into a chair across from Penelope, go ahead and ignore me...
I'm not ignoring you, sweetheart, Alex thought back, trying really hard not to succumb to his habit of looking at her even when they were just mentally conversing, I'm just trying to not look like I'm crazy in front of the potential client... don't hang yourself on that string...
"...Think nothing of it, corazon," the gorgeous Iberian woman smiled, "and you must call me Penelope..."

"Penelope," Alex nodded, returning the smile.

..."Now, as to why I've come," Penelope's hand disappeared into a coat pocket and came back out with a long, golden chain draped over her slender fingers and from the end of that chain dangled an Azazelite pendant. The damnable thing hung in the air between them for a long moment before she released her grip on the chain and let it fall to the table. "I presume that you know what this is?"

Whatever Alex had been expecting from this woman up until this point - cheating husband, insurance investigation, missing person, whatever - he sure as hell hadn't expected this. As soon as that amulet had appeared, though, his essence, his suspicions, and his anger flared with equal intensity. The warm, welcoming (and somewhat smitten) smile disappeared from his face instantly. His jaw tightened along with his fists and his already bloodshot eyes may have even reddened all the more, narrowing to apprehensive slits as they watched the pendant fall. The faint thunk that it made as it hit the dust-layered surface of the table was like a gunshot and the near-inaudible sound made by the chain as it curled around the pendant was the threatening hiss of a serpent to his ears. He glared at the thing for a moment before his gray eyes ticked towards the picture frame that sat just a few inches away - the one that held his favorite photo of Emily in her wedding dress.

His left hand unclenched with a bit of coaxing, his thumb absently turning the wedding ring he still wore as the hand lifted to his mouth and the fingers splayed out to rub thoughtfully at his heavily stubbled jaw. His right hand also relaxed into less than a fist as it sought out a cigarette from within a shirt pocket. The right hand changed places with the left, then, the right tucking the cigarette into the corner of his mouth as the left fished his lighter out of his coat. He rose from his seat, then, lighting the cigarette and flicking a dubious glance in Smoke's direction...

Think she's one of Joe's? he wondered in her direction.

Oh, now you want my opinion? the bast sighed, rolling onto her belly, still toying with the ball of twine. No, love, she answered, You'd have known that yourself if you bothered to actually look at the woman as opposed to simply ogling her.
His gaze tracked back to Em's picture as he sucked a long drag from the cigarette. The lighter disappeared back into the pocket it had come from and his left hand reached out to snatch the long-hated symbol of Azazel's cult out of Em's proximity. His right hand removed the cigarette from his mouth as his eyes reluctantly tore away from his wife's photo, regarded the pendant for a moment, and then fixed on Penelope.

Her aura, now that his sudden focus allowed him to see beyond her exotic beauty, shone with a light that only the Gifted presented and, with the possibility of her being an undercover plant for Joe having been dismissed, that could mean only a handful of other reasons that Penelope Rosa had decided to pay him a visit... Either I just invited a Zazy into my own damn house, he grumbled inwardly, finally exhaling a cloud of smoke towards the ceiling, or this lady's in some serious s**t.
His mouth was dry. The cigarette didn't help. The flask in his hip pocket was screaming for attention... Too bad it's empty.

There's a bottle in the kitchen.

Shut up.

...He took another puff of the smoke, continuing to study Penelope with new eyes for a moment.

"Where'd you get this?" he finally managed to ask.

Alexander's eyes seemed to narrow as they followed the falling medallion. Penelope watched as his welcoming smitten airs shifted to an aura of near blind rage. There was little doubt that the man knew what that medallion was, Mami Fortuna and Lucius had been right. Suppressing a smile the Iberian siren studied his every move.

Sitting across from her Alexander shakily smoked a cigarette. With every drag his pain filled grey eyes returned to a picture of a pretty blonde woman that sat framed on the table. He had more than some general knowledge of the medallion. This was personal, of that Penelope was certain.

Sitting back in the chair she let her smile fade to an implacable serenity. They were past seduction now, but she had other means of manipulation and they were equally effective. So she watched him closely waiting for some tool to present itself.

Staring back at her with grey intensity Alexander finally asked, "Where did you get this?"

Penelope regarded him in silence before replying cooly, "It was left in front of my door."

"In front of your door?" Still holding the amulet in one hand and a cigarette in the other, Alex pushed the hand with the cigarette through his hair as his gazed jumped between the amulet and Penelope...

Did I see one of these before that night, he wondered. The first time he could recall seeing the symbol, himself, seemed to be the night he walked into that massacre but, thinking about it now, he couldn't be sure that he hadn't seen it prior to that. Did those bastards leave one of these on our doorstep, Em?

...He looked once more at Emily's picture, indulged in another long drag on the cigarette, and then sighed; "Yeah, I know what it is." The anger in his eyes hadn't disappeared entirely but it had softened a bit - perhaps by sadness - when he looked at the Iberian woman, now; "I know what it means... it means you're screwed.

It also means that you're right," he said, turning towards the kitchen hallway, "we do have a lot to talk about. Starting with how you might've gotten wrapped up in whatever sick s**t the Cult of Azazel's got going on. How do you take your coffee?"

Alex stopped for a moment when he got closer to Smoke, crouched down beside her and, moving a few loops of twine to do so, rubbed her under her chin.

"She's screwed, Smoke-darlin'," he repeated... then offered a sardonic smirk and amended that estimation; "I'm screwed."

He rested his hand on her head then and winked. "What else is new, right?"

Puffing on the remains of his cigarette, Alex got to his feet and continued down the hall to the kitchen. "How's that coffee comin', Rosie," he called.

Janelle quietly busied herself with making a kettle of boiling water. Whatever Alex and the other woman had to talk about surely wasn't any of her business... and Janelle didn't mind. That's what being normal was about. You just kept to yourself, and that's how it worked.

Janelle began to hum a song. It wasn't anything that Smoke or Alex would recognize, she knew, since it was made up by-

Janelle stopped, a bead of sweat visible by her right ear. She bit her lip. No, she wouldn't remember... she forced the thoughts out of her mind, and continued getting the cups ready.

Getting a small tray, Janelle quickly set up the cups, the creamer, filled with milk, and a bowl of sugar. It was best to serve it black, and then let the others decide how much they wanted, she knew.

Eventually the tray was complete, looking for all the world like it belonged in either a hotel or a restaurant. Too late, Janelle remembered why she didn't like coffee... it brought back those memories.

Janelle shook her head a couple of times, forcibly pushing the thoughts away. Thankfully, at that moment, something interrupted her, and brought her back to reality.

"How's that coffee comin', Rosie?"

Janelle jumped slightly, her breathing a bit faster than normal, and sweat glistening slightly along the side of her face.

"Oh, it's done, I was, um-" Janelle quickly picked up the tray, "About to give it to you."

Janelle forced a smile, and thankfully it worked. Or at least she thought it did.

However, what she didn't realize was that her hands were shaking slightly, even as it held the professional-appearing tray.

Alex stopped for a moment when he got closer to Smoke, crouched down beside her and, moving a few loops of twine to do so, rubbed her under her chin. "She's screwed, Smoke-darlin'," he repeated... then offered a sardonic smirk and amended that estimation; "I'm screwed..."

He rested his hand on her head then and winked. "What else is new, right?"

Puffing on the remains of his cigarette, Alex got to his feet and continued down the hall to the kitchen. "How's that coffee comin', Rosie," he called.
Smoke purrs a bit when he rubs under her chin and attacks the twine as it moves.

You know Alex, love... the last time I took a tally... you -weren't- screwed, which I thought I had diagnosed as a problem, one that could be fixed, if you weren't acting like such a dope... she sends this to Alex, and thankfully for him, just to Alex.

Finally she rolls over onto her stomach instead of displaying it. The twine twists around her paws and she stares up at the new woman, Penelope she says her name is. She takes a good minute to really look her over then finally speaks to her:

Penelope... you must pardon Alex. It isn't often he gets actual clients walking through this door, nor any as pretty as you, though I'm sure you are aware of that, he also doesn't get any that come in with trinkets like that. And... well... he is a man, and human to boot... and if there is one creature that has no manners, even if they are not presented with a triple shock as you have just done to the poor man, it is human males. So... I'm Ellgawen, but he calls me Smoke, and so may you, if it pleases you. And don't be too worried... if those demon worshiping cowards are really involved this is the right place to go.

If cats could smile at people she would now, instead she licks a paw daintily.

...if you weren't acting like such a dope...

Smoke's last words echoed through his mind as Alex continued on towards the kitchen. Story of my life, he silently agreed, taking another look at the amulet and then stuffing it into his pocket before Rosie came into view. I was a dope to have not listened to Em when she practically begged me to go with her that night... I was a dope for finally going when it was already too late... for everything else that's happened since, most likely. He dragged the cigarette down to the filter and crushed the thing out between already burn scarred fingertips and shook his head; And I've gotta be a dope for even considering taking this case what with Chicago's finest sniffing around, now.

"Story of my friggin life," he mumbled out loud as he reached the kitchen and tossed the extinguished cigarette butt into the trash can.

"Oh, it's done. I was, um," Janelle replied to his question as he stepped onto the linoleum, "about to bring it to you."

He smiled a little, seeing her standing there with the coffee and all that went with it arranged on a professionally presented tray. The smile faded, though, when he realized that the faint clattering sound he had just noticed was resultant of the trembling hands with which she held the thing rattling the cups and other accoutrements together on the tray. The girl's smile, too, seemed a little forced and a thin sheen of perspiration glistened along her temples and cheeks.

"Hey," he said, an expression of genuine concern on his face as he reached out to take the tray from her, "you alright, Rosie? Lemme take this, okay? You don't look so good."

He took the tray from her and set it on the counter before producing a handkerchief from his pocket and blotting the sweat from her face. Alex caught a glimpse of his ward-wrapped watch as he did and, though he couldn't see the face of the thing, suddenly realized that it was probably really close to noon... Keep it together, kiddo, he willed silently, offering what he hoped was a reassuring smile as he returned the hanky to his pocket and then wrapped the girl up in his arms, you're gonna be alright. I'm not gonna let time get ya.

"Listen, I've got all the clocks down here taken care of," he said softly, "and there aren't any upstairs except for the digital one beside my bed... none at all in the guest room... if you wanna go up and lay down for a while. Whaddya think?"


((OOC: Completely up to Rosie as to whether or not she wants to go up and nap out or not, of course. Alex is just doing the concerned big brother bit, here... despite her decision, Alex will (eventually) return to the front room with the coffee - after spiking one of the cups with a dose of scotch and perhaps refilling his flask from the bottle above the sink... ))

Uh oh... Janelle thought, realizing that she hadn't hidden it as well as she had hoped.

She wouldn't lie about it, since that just wasn't right, but she also didn't want to distract Alex from his client.

Janelle shook her head, hopefully reassuringly, "I-it's not that."

"Um... I don't want to keep you from your client," Janelle added honestly, "So, perhaps it'd be better if I told you later? It's not urgent..."

Janelle knew she was dodging the question, and that bothered her, since this was Alex, who seemed to keep looking out for her. Yet, she knew quite well that it wasn't good for a person to be distracted away from a client or appointment; that could be seen as rude.

I'll tell him later. Janelle promised to herself, Yes... later...

"I know what it means... it means you're screwed. It also means you're right," Alexander said turning towards the kitchen hallway, "we do have a lot to talk about. Starting with how you might've gotten wrapped up in whatever sick s**t the Cult of Azazel's got going on. How do you take your coffee?"

"Black," Penelope replied fingering a dark curl of hair.

Her serenity remained implacable as she watched the P.I. walk out into another room, but that calm was only skin deep. Azazel, the source of impurity. Over the centuries she had heard that name but a few times, and always it was spoken with the hush of fear and foreboding. Penelope had thought Azazel forgotten with the passage of time, she had been wrong.

There had always been fools willing to serve the demonic gods in exchange for the power and wealth they promised. These Azazelites were certainly fools, but they were fools with power and that made them dangerous. For some reason the fools had taken notice of her and now had to be dealt with. One or two magicians she could deal with easily, but the involvement of an entire cult complicated matters infinitely. Penelope could not do this on her own, she needed Alexander Sharpe and the siren did not like to be in need of aid from any mortal.

As if sensing her turmoil the bast rolled over and stared up at her. With those golden feline eyes were fixed on her in study, Penelope heard a distinctly female voice echo in her mind.

Penelope... you must pardon Alex. It isn't often he gets actual clients walking through this door, nor any as pretty as you, though I'm sure you are aware of that, he also doesn't get any that come in with trinkets like that. And... well... he is a man, and human to boot... and if there is one creature that has no manners, even if they are not presented with a triple shock as you have just done to the poor man, it is human males. So... I'm Ellgawen, but he calls me Smoke, and so may you, if it pleases you. And don't be too worried... if those demon worshiping cowards are really involved this is the right place to go.
The siren cocked her head to the side to study the bast, her name was Smoke. Penelope stood up and made her way across the room to kneel before the bast and scratch her chin as she had seen Alex do before her.

Thank you, Smoke she replied. but there is no need to worry, I have taken no offense. It is the presence of the source of impurity that worries me. Tell me, Smoke, what do you know of this cult?

Thank you, Smoke she replied. but there is no need to worry, I have taken no offense. It is the presence of the source of impurity that worries me. Tell me, Smoke, what do you know of this cult?

A low purr rattled in her throat as Penelope gave her attention.

Right between my shoulders if you would love.. ahhh... yeah... um... what? Oh the Azazelites? Nasty ****ers. We don't know as much as we'd like to. They are organized, we know that much. As for who has organized them? Couldn't tell you. But whoever it is is working on growing the cult. For everyone that Alex slaughters it seems two more pop up. Mostly kids. They show up wearing those fancy medallions along with some new fancy clothes and some bimboo on their arm. A couple of 'em sporting some spark of magical ability too, though it's usually a bit on the rough side. They are show-offs mostly. Not too hard to spot, if you know what your looking for. Although I have a suspicion those are just the lackeys I think there are more that aren't so obvious, the ones running things likely. But at any rate, obvious or not, they are sadists.
Not to scare you or anything love... but... they like to flay people, alive. Especially gifted who get in their way. It's like in the old days, except this time it's gifted praying on gifted in a sickening display of cannibalism I have a hard time stomaching.
That's what is up with Alex. I'll leave it to him to divulge details, but that pretty blonde in the picture goes with the ring on his finger, and she's not with us anymore. My dear Alex is a little... bent... on taking those sadistic bastards down. Although I worry sometimes what will fuel him if he ever truly succeeds at that...
But... for you coming here was really a good thing if you have those bastards sniffing around. How did you end up here anyway?

She glances up and runs a soft paw along Penelope's wrist while she gets pet.

Right between my shoulders if you would love...

Penelope moved her hand at Smoke's request and began to pet the bast between her shoulders.


ahhh... yeah... um... what? Smoke began between purrs. Oh the Azazelites? Nasty ****ers. We don't know as much as we'd like to. They are organized, we know that much. As for who has organized them? Couldn't tell you. But whoever it is is working on growing the cult. For everyone that Alex slaughters it seems two more pop up. Mostly kids. They show up wearing those fancy medallions along with some new fancy clothes and some bimboo on their arm. A couple of 'em sporting some spark of magical ability too, though it's usually a bit on the rough side. They are show-offs mostly. Not too hard to spot, if you know what your looking for. Although I have a suspicion those are just the lackeys I think there are more that aren't so obvious, the ones running things likely. But at any rate, obvious or not, they are sadists.

Not to scare you or anything love... but... they like to flay people, alive. Especially gifted who get in their way. It's like in the old days, except this time it's gifted praying on gifted in a sickening display of cannibalism I have a hard time stomaching.

That's what is up with Alex. I'll leave it to him to divulge details, but that pretty blonde in the picture goes with the ring on his finger, and she's not with us anymore. My dear Alex is a little... bent... on taking those sadistic bastards down. Although I worry sometimes what will fuel him if he ever truly succeeds at that...

But... for you coming here was really a good thing if you have those bastards sniffing around. How did you end up here anyway?

Smoke glanced up at her and ran a soft paw along her wrist as if waiting for her reply. The siren stared forward a moment and shook her head. Like the old days the bast had said, like the burning times. That was an age she had no wish to see reborn, and if now the Gifted were beginning to hunt one another the repercussions could be devastating.

Penelope looked back to the table and the picture of the blonde woman that lay there. These Azazelites must have been involved in the woman's death, that would certainly explain the sadness in Alexander's eyes and his rage at the sight of the medallion. The siren sighed again, what had she gotten herself mixed up in?

Turning her full attention the bast Penelope began softly It was a vampyre named Lucius who finally sent me to your doorstep, but it was a seer who first pointed me to this path. She is an old homeless woman that wanders the streets of Pilsen, perhaps she might be able to tell us something more of this cult? If it looks like the old days come again as you say then we must do what we can to prevent that from coming to pass.