Welcome to Gaia! ::

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All of this commotion had probably disengaged Violet. Oual knew that at prom, she had tuned out when he was not paying attention to her. Right then, everything was supposed to be about her… and figuring out her home life. So thankfully, the man called Jon Johnson left, as did the redheaded juvenile and her boyfriend. The chief detective whipped out his cell phone and quickly sent a message to James Cross: Strange man named Jon Johnson is coming to see you. Says he’s your brother? Meet him at gate or security probably won’t let him in.

Oual glanced at Anthony, probably wondering whether the cop was going to address him or not. Then, shoving that thought aside for now, he turned to Violet. “I’m sorry, Violet, that was pretty crazy for a second.”

Violet, while Oual had been speaking to other people, had gotten bored, as she tended to do any time the present situation did not engage her directly. To alleviate this, she had begun to make butterflies (though her butterflies had not metamorphosed completely; they were fat caterpillars that hung limply, little legs struggling, as their wings flapped listlessly) and release them around the room. As soon as they came into contact with a surface, they imploded in upon themselves, making a squealing noise not unlike that made by a startled bullfrog. Obviously, this would be quite distressing to anyone who wandered in, and especially so to employees.

Subtlety was not Violet's forte.

When, seconds after Violet had released her noisy horde, Oual returned his attention to her, she stared up at him with innocent eyes. Her creations fluttered in all directions, and one bumped into Oual's chest and imploded with a startling shriek.

"That's okay, Mr. Detective," Violet said in response to Oual's apology. "See, I made friends! I bet I can make more things than this store can make. Uh-oh! Do you think the store will get jealous? Maybe it'll see how good I do and make me queen. I always wanted to be a queen, only I kind of wished it would happen after I turn into a bullfrog. Did you know that tadpoles turn into fireworks if you stare long enough?"

Anthony tried his best to hide his amazement as the little girl conjured what Anthony could only guess were little worms with wings out of thin air. Oual was talking to her now and motioned at Anthony but Anthony stood his ground and made like he wasn't listening. He wanted this infernal cop to come up and order already but bided his time and tried his best to be patient.

Anthony put his game face on and decided to just get this over with. He took his apron off and clocked out and then took a deep breath in and then a deep breath out. Walking over to Oual and the girl from prom he gave an effort to smile, "Well, there's a familiar face I didn't think to see again, or atleast not so soon." He was awful at small talk. He continued to take deep breaths through his diapraghm to keep his adrenaline under control. "What brings the two of you to this establishment?"

Anthony liked this bizarre twist of events. Rather than the cop making him squirm like he had at prom Anthony was the one in control of the situation. He decided to press his luck, "I see the young lady from prom has taken to you nicely, I'm not quite sure I caught her name in all the comotion." He gave Oual a look that suggested he'd like to talk elsewhere and in private before he smiled and turned his attention to, "Hello again my mysterious friend, what can we get you today at Cup's coffee?"

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Generally, Oual picked up on non-verbal cues, but not right now. Right now, he barely even heard the words. All he sensed was a distance between himself and Anthony and a strange sort of warmth or connection between himself and Violet. Understanding came to mind.

“What do I want?” He repeated them, looking bewildered. “I want a – uh… nothing. Nothing I’m fine.”

He wanted to save James Cross’ life, and he didn’t think his situation could have been worse. In fact, chances were that Jonathon Johnson was the Mastermind, and Oual had led the criminal right to the young cop-in-training.

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“I-I’m sorry, Anthony,” Oual replied. “I’ll come back later.” Now Anthony would know Oual wasn’t there coincidently. The Chief Detective of Delmor looked down at Violet and started walking away. “C’mon, Violet. I’m sorry, something very important just came up… detective business,” Oual choked on the words. Later on, he would regret succumbing to this weak image of a respectable man who – even with 22 years in criminal justice, could not focus through the inevitable death of an officer. If Cross was alone with the Mastermind, there was no hope for him.

But James Cross was different. James Cross showed promise and talent in his field. That’s why he was in the position he was. But he didn’t have the right attitude yet, and Oual couldn’t bear the thought that maybe he’d made a mistake putting so much responsibility.

He led Violet out to the car and turned on the sirens – she would probably be fascinated by them. So began a fast, but oddly solemn drive back to Violet’s house.