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Cleon's eyes narrowed at the girl before the curator moved the cup out of the way, leaining forward. The immortal almost seemed angry at this point and seemed to be supressing an urge to spit. "I very much doubt that and if it were, I do not deal with collectors. There are far too many minds in the world inclined to possess a cursed photograph, sometimes several. My personal belief is that human souls should not be displayed in a trophy room."

Cleon began to stare directly at Jessi, catching her gaze and staring her down, looking a good deal more intimidating then before.

"I am old Miss Milharn. I am very old and that will be all I'll give you until you tell me precisely who you are."

The tone had become almost accusitory, barely hiding a growing anger that had been covered over for most of the day and a good deal of the conversation. The voice and face was laid over with suspicion and irritation at the sudden and unwelcome interrogation of the mortal.

Cleon took the card, studying it in surprisingly nimble hands as the curator turned it over for inspection. Finally, the card was placed back on the table and the converation started up again. "I've never hasd many dealings with vampires. Particularly they don't seem to like my kind. I believe thatwould be due to the lack of sacrifice that appears to be involved in the status, and we are no good for food."

The immortal then unbuttoned the undershirt slightly allowing the chance to pull both it and the jacket downward slightly to reveal an uneven impression that seemed to circumfrance the entirety of the left shoulder.
It looked as if part of the skin had healed over before connecting back together.. "Unfortunatly we must be far more careful when it comes to matters such as dismemberment as our bodies may heal far more quickly then the time it will take to find and re-attach a limb."

Proving a point the shirt was redone and the jacket pushed back up. "Very few people get around the otherworld without hearing of that particular vampire if only for the fact that he behaves unusually for his breed. Make no mistake that it is the sole reason for me to remain forthcoming."

Cleon folded both hands together, again looking at Jessi directly, only this time far less confrontational. "There is a story, of a young painter who was seduced by a garden that lay on his path home. When he was caught theiving he begged the woman to forgive him and he promised her tripple their worth when everyone knew his name. It was cruel luck the woman agreed to his terms."

Cleon frowned, resting hands on the chin in thought. "From what I have gathered 'Thomas' is cursed withen his own painting until someone utters his name. Most artists signed their work but like most artists it is nearly illegible unless you recognize the signature."

Both hands relaxed, the right stretched out over the table. "He is very aware of his situation as indicated by his movements and why he is not displayed more prominantly. Also, there are collectors that enjoy possessing such 'unique' paintings and I've already thwarted one attempt. In all sense of the definition he is in a painting. He can move but is incapable of making any changes to the art itself."

There was a long pause, fingers tapped lightly on the table as blue eyes met back with Jessi. "There was a young man several years ago that could have helped decipher his name, regretably though the painting came into my possession far too late and he had disapeared by then."

The curator sighed, standing up and adjusting the jacket slightly. "If we are done here it is overdue for me to check on the tour. Unless you have further questions Miss. Milharn?"

Cleon nodded, shaking Jessi's hand in respect for the gesture. "Not at all Miss. Milharn, but please do not get his hopes up. 600 years is after all far too long to wait for disapointment."

The curator proceeded to lead her to the exit, hoping to perhaps escort the girl back to the portrait out of polite gesture. Perhaps if the recent events had not been so distracting Cleon might have noticed the excess noise at the other end of the door and perhaps found an alternate exit, or atleast have holed up in the break room until the traffic passed. Instead the immortal was recieved with what was a face full of cameras, an entourage and the entire nisence directly to the office door.

Cleon was barely able to conceal the lack of favor for the group and a flicker of annoyance crossed over the immortal's face at the moment of surprise before it was buried in a shallow grave.

A hand went directly to the eyes in reaction to the confrontation while the oter immediatly pushed Jessi back into the offce before she was recieved by the confrontation.

Cleon had always hated cameras, finding they only grew more irritating as technology improved. "Our agreement was the Picassos only. I very much doubt I factor into that exhibit."

'Dr' Hasforth was far less intimidated by his commrades, inching up to the new face with an almost predatory face. "You wern't on the employee list Miss, are you an aquaintence of Mr. Detritis? Would you care to..."

Cleon had had enough, stepping in front of the operation to prevent further embaressment. "Miss Mayhew is a new hire for the security detail Mr. Hasforth. I suggest you cease harrassing my employees and utilize what time you have remaining for your tour."

Dr. Hasforth did not look like he was someone willing to back down, but there was no misinterpreting the thinly disguised threat under the curator's curt response. 'I've managed to tolerate you this far because it benefits me, do not make me shift the tables.

No stranger to masks the psychiatrist smiled politely "Ah yes, We'll need to get you in for an interview some day at least Mr. Detritis your employees always do a fine job with the escort."

He then took control of the group again as he led them on towards the final segment of his analysis, unwilling to to press the curator for a fight at the current moment.

There was no hiding the sudden look of relief that crossed Cleon's face when the entourage vacated the area. "It will be his embaressment should he ever see my identification. It is far more difficult to switch genders these days then it was thirty years ago." She then nodded politely to Jessi. "I believe I owe you a small favor Miss. Milharn. I've never been able to handle photographs. Please feel free to continue on without me I should be a moment."

Finally the blue eyes focussed on D and there was an almost scolding glance in the way the curator looked at him. "Why do I feel if not for your ...eagerness, the tour might not have followed you D?"

Cleon looked at D. The man was frequently nervous and she had grown accustomed to this in the time knowing him. It happened with escaped prisoners when something unfamilier came by and the only reason the man hadn't attempted to move to a more secluded area was due to the fact the city offered it's own protection. It was far easier to disapear in a metropolis then it was the outback.

Herself the cautious type, Lexicon was far laess willing to divulge the nature of her visitor. D still was not aware of the man in the painting, a knowledge of which the immortal did not openly entrust to anyone.

"She is an aquintence D, and not one you should overly concern yourself about."

Cleon then folded her arms, eying the manilla folder without a minimum of interest. "You've brought something for me?"


The young man in the painting was standing at the center, he even appeared to be staring at Jessi as she spoke. It took a minute, but after the question the head seemed to phase out into an upward posistion, lingering there until the man appeared to be looking down.

Cleon nodded, opening the door wider to allow D through first. The curator followed immediatly afterward, closing the door behind them and leading him on through the same tour he had with Jessi until they passed the breakroom, continuing on to the end until they came to carved cheerywod door where Lexicon had to pull a key from the pocket withen the jacket before they were able to step inside. Once again the look of the office area deviated from the usual trend. The room was completely devoid of anything metal, possessing an antique desk set on a floor laid with old wood that had begun to loose it's polish. A portrait hung on the wall of a gentleman in full war regaila of a Napoleonic soldier. A bookcase sat against the wall holding a small but varied collection of older and newer books, mismatching the antiques with the paperbacks. All looked worn and read and every single one appeared to be some sort of reference. At the other end of the office was another door of the same design and this was judged to be the second entrance.

Lexicon stepped over to the dest and pulled a chair out for D, leaning against the desk herself and waiting for the man to respond. Demetrius was appropriatly cautious and the immortal had grown accustomed to patience, comfortable to wait until the informant was prepared.

***************

It took another few minutes for the man in the painting to respond, the delayed answers a consiquence of the painting and it's refusal to allow any immediate movements. It was difficult to tell if due to this slow response time, that everything was getting through.

The man resonded with another phase, looking up then down. It was the best answer anyone could hope for from a painting.