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Vercellius shivered but continued any ways. Having gone through the city many times he had heard word of many a folk of the quality of items sold here in. After his last fight he would need all that he could afford.

Naded save the flowing mist of Ithaqua which shielded most of his body from sight he looked nothing like the man who had attacked the Temple of Falis. His clothes gone, torn to shreds by the shoggoth. His mask split asunder that his pale skin showed along with his violet eyes. The only thing that remained the same and visible was the bells that he had tied into his hair.

Within his hands though he held a small bag which would hopefully allow him to make the needed purchases. Coming to a counter he asked where he might be able to find the clothing section and if they personalized clothes at all along with a store for the more violent or collecting individual.

"Cail..." Sey said, her hand still on the Paladin's forearm giving him a warning squeeze. She heard the veiled insult in Joseph's words, but she paid no heed to them. She had healed him, and if he sought to only redicule her for her assistance then Falis, he could. She just needed his help in outfitting the Temple.



"What the..." Sey immediately felt the bobble come closer, Falis' power mixed with a twinge of a familiar aura... Someone she barely remembered...

"Who...?"

Her words, however, were quickly interrupted by Stryphe's interjection.



Her stomach dropped and her right hand automatically went to her belly, heart clenching tightly. She remembered what Abel said about the little life that was once there, and Sey realized that for a few, short minutes she was carrying a baby within her.

Stryphe's Baby.

"You heard Abel." Sey said emptilly, dark grey eyes glancing at Stryphe. "The baby isn't there anymore. It's dead."



"..." She could not believe what he had just said. Of all the things he could have said... Turning away from Cail and wrenching her arm from his grip, Sey turned to Stryphe.

"Stryphe Ebrowen Epothos," Sey said, his full name sliding easilly off her tounge, remembering how she treasured learning his name. The feeling of shock was quickly replaced by a torrent of emotions that made her feel as though she would burst: anger, hate, embaressment, disgust, frustration, contempt - all of which gave her the strength to make the few short steps to stand infront of him.

"What did I ever do to you do deserve such harsh words?" Sey said, pain seeping into her words though she tried to stay as cold as she could. "What wrong did I commit? Was it such a sin to have loved you?" Unreadable grey eyes sought his own and Sey looked up into his face, smoke from his cig curling around her face.

"Please... Please tell me what I can do so that you won't hate me anymore."

Joseph, following Charles' lead, Joseph backed away slowly as well.

"Charles," Joseph elbowed his driver and whispered, "If this goes on much longer we're gonna have do something about it."

He made a motion towards the girl, and then a second towards the elevatory.

((This be about you guys XD))

And that was very anti-climatic. DeSaul hurumphed to himself, seeing that the Paladin was gong to beat a retreat. Sure he was out numbered, out gunned, and out smarted. But he was a paladin. They weren't supposed to retreat from something like that.

Oh well, seemed that Joseph had failed to put on the show. No matter. Looking at all the destruction of the lobby, seemed he missed the best of it anyways.

"Reminds me of the time we ended up working together with Mark,t he Cowardly Knight... damn fool almost got us killed, several times..."

Joseph got a ring on his cell phone. He wasn't on five minutes before he mouthed the word "******** fellows," he looked at everyone in the lobby, "I've gotta get things back to business as usual as quick as possible. Holy rollers, get back to the temple. Fast. Trust me. If you wanna talk later, I'll drop by. I promise it won't be during service."

"Mr. Desaull." He looked at the older gentleman, "My associate Mr. Po will see you, his office is number 301."

"Everybody else, get out. I don't care how." He turned to the elevator, "I'm going to my office. You all have ten munites before you're forceably removed."

((EVERYBODY GETS GM'D OUT OF THE LOBBY. TIME MOVES ON.))

She was a tall woman, with dark hair that looked as if it had been cut as close to the skull as one could get with a pair of scissors. At a first glance, one got the impression that she was scantily dressed; a strange leotard and a pair of gloves, maybe. A second, longer look would give anyone cause to wonder if what little she was wearing could actually qualify as clothing. Both the "leotard" and the "gloves" were made of a strange, grey, scaly material, that almost seemed to breathe on its own. And behind her...what were those two grey tubes, sticking up from behind her shoulders?

That was if you looked at her from the front. From the back, you could see that the scaly material ran all the way down the back of the woman's legs...if you bothered to look anywhere else after you saw the blades.

They were huge, three feet long and more than eight inches wide, wickedly curved. There were a few streaks of red staining them, as though the woman had hastily tried to wipe blood away. From the bottom of each blade came a grey, bony protrusion...which connected to another grey, three foot long bone...which in turn connected to another that seemed to come out of the woman's shoulder blades. The bones, if that's what they were, were in what looked like a very uncomfortable position. They were doubled over onto each other, held stiff in an effort to keep the blades out of sight behind her back. It barely worked. Barely.

The woman's green eyes roved about the lobby, until they landed on the front desk clerk. Slowly, Greeneyes approached the desk until she was standing a mere foot away from the employee behind it.

"I need help," she said simply. "Who can I speak to about genetics research?"

"Thank you," Greeneyes said, relieved that her plan of keeping her blades behind her back seemed to be working. Maybe she could let them relax now, the muscles that operated them were killing her.

She turned as the elevator doors swung open, but not quickly enough. She was sure the man must have caught a glimpse of the blades, but he did not seem frightened...good.

"Mr. Monroe." Greeneyes declined her head in respect. "I'm here with a research question that is deeply important to me. A problem no one has yet been able to solve.

"I am what my people would call a hreni, a tainted one. I am a shapeshifter, but I have no power to control the shape I will assume, or when I will assume it. Hreni are a rare genetic disorder among my people; I am looking for a cure."