Ice Cream (RP)

Circe looks at the papers again, puzzled. This looks like ...real estate or something. What does this have to do with demons and vampires?

The knock comes to the door and Circe opens it. When the bedraggled courier speaks, Circe squeals with conspiratorial glee and leans close to him, saying, "So, like, do you work for Them? You know, the D-E-M-O-N-S?? What is it like? Did you have to sign a contract too? Like, are you trying to get out of it? How do people get out of it, anyway? ....Oh. I did that thing again where I overwhelm someone with talking. OK. Uh, here, I'll take that. Sorry. Bye, I guess?" She sheepishly takes the package and shrugs an apology before closing the door on the poor bewildered kid.

She walks over to the kitchen and quietly says, "Um, Benji? I have something for you..." He doesn't immediately stir, so she grabs a knife off the counter and cuts open the package, causing two blood bags to spill out onto the counter! And they are still warm!! She yelps in surprise and a bit of horror and jumps backwards. As she does so, she sees that her careless opening of the package with a steak knife nicked one of the bags, which is now slowly leaking a pool of warm, ostensibly human, blood, onto the counter where Benji is resting his head.

Circe is beginning to panic as blood! Ew! begins to spill onto the counter, when she hears a knock again. She runs to the door and finds the courier is still there. He timidly says, "Hey, uh, I have, like, REALLY explicit instructions to present the package to Benji myself? Do you mind if…" He tries to peer past her.

Being overwhelmed, she only stammers, "What? Oh, um sure?" She turns and leaves the door open and returns to the counter, tearing paper towels. The young man enters and looks confused, then approaches Benji.

Panicking and laughing apologetically, Circe tries to stem the flow of blood across the polished marble countertop with a sopping paper towel, with increasingly less efficacy. She laughs and says, "Oh, haha I, um, I accidentally punctured this bag...of..." She gulps audibly and whispers, "...blood." Her face is pale now as she looks Benji in the eyes. Her voice, now small, continues, saying, "Um, Persephone made a call, and said this was for you... And that guy brought it. And insisted that he present himself to you, like face to face?"

The raggedy student replies, clearly confused and uncomfortable about the blood, saying, "Uh, yeah, they said I had to be, like, in front of you and hand it to you and say..." he clears his throat and says something he has clearly been told to say verbatim. he says, "Ahem... I have a delivery, and I'm here in case you have the need." He clearly is struggling to understand the meaning of the words, but does not see the mortal danger he is in.

Circe is beginning to put two and two together, however. She stammers, "Wait... Wait. Like, wait. Like HE is the package too? No. Benji, no. Please don't..." She begins to back away, frightened and concerned.

Circe watches trepidatiously as Benji awakens, seemingly expecting him to lunge at the poor courier's throat or something. When he instead reacts with flustered stammering and sends him away, she looks confused and is about to ask him a question, but instead she walks the guy to the door saying only, "Um, ok you did the thing. Now go home and, uh, maybe don't take jobs from whoever hired you again, ok?"

When she returns, she sees Benji drinking blood from the bag and her confusion eases. "Ah, ok," she says. "I was wondering, like what kind of vampire are you? I thought, you know, vampires were ravenous predators." She looks thoughtfully and then adds, "But then again, I guess sometimes they are like Louis from Interview with a Vampire, right? Like, for a large part of the book, he refuses to even drink from humans, settling for rats and stuff, and by the end he only drinks like you do, out of blood bags. So do you, like, have a connection at the local blood bank or something? or do you drink animal blood?"

About this time, Persephone emerges from the bedroom for a moment, in a robe and with her hair up in a towel. She says, "Oh good, you got the package. I hope it's palatable for you? I don't really know anything about your kind, but I assumed my employer would. OK, I am going to get ready for my date. Circe, I'd like you not to be here for the evening; your presence would likely deter Viv's libido." Circe gets a look of disgust at Persephone's callousness a comments, "Sis, we NEED to get that tattoo thing off your back. You are super gross with it. Like, seriously sociopathic."

Persephone swishes her hand as if swatting away Circe's concern like a fly. Then, seeing the papers, Persephone says, "Oh yes! Benji, please examine those papers. Henry acquired them; they concern some real estate near Hyde Park that Chaudry and the Club folks trade in, and it may include the land beneath which I met my death. I'd like to see if we can discover a weakness, or perhaps some leverage."

Circe starts to step closer to Benji to whisper, but her eyes glance to the empty blood bag and she instead steps around to the far side of the kitchen island. She speaks quietly, replying, "Oh my god! You haven't noticed? When her boss, like, beamed her out of the hospital, he added this red symbol on her back that, like, completely turned off her emotions! Now she behaves like that douchebags she used to complain about back in Silicon Valley, those startup bros and venture capitalists. We need to get it off her or something!"

Circe shrugs and says, "Well, I don't know if it's actually a tattoo. Maybe it's like, a temporary tattoo? Or a sharpie drawing? Maybe we just need to, like, erase a part of it, like in the movies when they break the protective circle and let the demon out, or whatever."

Circe nods and says, "Um, OK, can we text her or something?" She thinks for a moment and adds, "Hey, maybe, it's like a henna tattoo? Like, maybe it will last for a few days but then fade? She said it was so she could function again, after having a breakdown from the trauma of being ...um... murdered. Did that REALLY happen, by the way? Like, HOW? Why was she alone? Who would want to kill her? Why didn't... why didn't anyone protect her?"

Circe listens as Benji explains what happened to her sister and, as he does so, an expression of horror and grief spreads across her face. At the mention of so much blood--her sister's blood--she cries out, "Oh my god, No! Persephone, no!" She runs toward her sister's bedroom in tears.

Before she reaches the door, Persephone emerges, drawn by the noise. She looks vaguely annoyed by the interruption. Her hair and make-up look absolutely exquisite, as does her whole ensemble -- even better than Benji has seen her appear before. Circe crashes into her, embracing her in her tears. Persephone becomes agitated, as an emotional response begins to emerge, but then she grunts in pain and falls to her knees as the symbol on her black flares with an infernal red light bright enough to be seen through her linen top. Persephone grunts again, as if the symbol flashing is causing her pain.

Circe falls with Persephone and they are now both on their knees, Circe clinging to Persephone while Persephone struggles with the symbol. Circe cries out, "Pers! We need to get this effing thing off your back now! It's gonna kill you!" The light fades and Persephone pulls herself back to standing. Calm comes over her again -- or coldness, really -- but a look of concern remains. She observes Circe and says, "Hmm. I can't function very efficiently if that is going to happen with any frequency. Wait a moment; you are obviously distraught. More than usual, I mean. Why?" She looks to Benji, expecting him to be able to provide a more coherent explanation than her sobbing, angry little sis.

Persephone nods curtly and says, "Ah, yes. I imagine the sight of my corpse after the hellhound was through with me was grisly indeed. I have the faint scars all over my body."

Circe eventually calms down and pulls herself to standing. Persephone sighs heavily and says, "I suppose it is all rather upsetting. Or, rather, it should be. But I am... numb. As if that part of me has been... quarantined." She looks at Benji with almost no expression at all on her blank face. She asks, "This is likely unhealthy, isn't it? I suspect it isn't sustainable long term, either; I wonder if my Patron has decided I am a liability and has chosen to use me in this way for the short term until this burns me out. Alas, I have no way of knowing. Do you know anyone who has experience with such things? Perhaps your bookstore friend?"

Circe has finally composed herself enough to rejoin the conversation, adding, "Yes! Benji, please. Pers is willing. We need to do this, now."

Max strides through the dusty halls pausing occasionally to examine a flaw in the old decorations. Plastic Surgery clinics were usually bougie joints, or so she believes, and it's hard to see why anyone would choose to set up shop here. Might be a problem. Might also be an opportunity.

She's not a tall woman by any means, but she has an aura of someone 'large for their size,' and her presence seems to take up more space in a room than it really should. She walks with confidence and grace, and a hint of wary danger, like a predator pacing its enclosure simply waiting for a chance to spring to freedom. Her blonde hair is kept in a tousled but aesthetically pleasing mop, with wild bangs that hang to the right side of her face, and intense blue eyes. She wears mostly black leather, pants and a jacket, hanging open with a plain gray T-shirt beneath. She carries a worn duffel bag across her back.

When she gets to Titania's door, she pauses to admire the sheer contrast of the sign with the rest of the building. Who did they think they were fooling? Surround yourself with a dump like this, everyone would think you were a dump no matter how ritzy you looked on the inside. Without knocking, she enters.

She pauses to give the room's inhabitants a brief scan before she approaches the receptionist. "Hi," she says cordially. Her voice is husky and direct. "I'd like to make an appointment. Unless you do walk-ins? That's... probably not a thing, huh?"

Max can't help but smile indulgently at the receptionist's bubbly attitude. "Thanks. Always nice when others notice the fabulousness." She raises a brow dubiously at the comment that she shouldn't change a thing but doesn't remark on it. "Name's Maxine Harvey."

Max's friendly demeanor vanishes in an instant. She says nothing for a while, simply staring at the receptionist blankly, as if she hadn't heard. She briefly sweeps her gaze over the near-empty waiting room before turning it back on the receptionist. "Uh huh," she says unconvincingly. "Business must be booming." She wonders if they know that she's a werewolf. On one hand, she'd only been back from Germany for six months now, and word hadn't really had time to spread across the entire supernatural underworld. But on the other hand, she hadn't exactly been trying very hard to keep it a secret. And if she showed them the werewolf bite, it could well be a dead giveaway.

Silently, she continues staring in silence at the receptionist, ignoring the implied request to leave long after it becomes awkward, gauging the woman's reaction carefully.

Max doesn't respond at first, except to offer a quick, lifeless smile in exchange for the plastic one of the receptionist. She simply says nothing and lets the exchange grow ever more awkward. When she speaks, her rather nondescript inflection has become something rougher and lower-class. She leans forward, meeting the receptionist's eyes. "Yeah, there is somethin' else. Because you're on Max's turf, and I'm fuckin' Max. So, you can see immediately how there might be a problem if I don't like the way you do business. Fetch your boss sweet cheeks. I need to have a nice, civil conversation with them about their future in this location and it might be above your pay grade." With that she leans back again, as if feigning disinterest in the woman across the counter.

"Then I guess it's your lucky day," says Max, enunciating 'lucky' with the bite of sarcasm, "Because all the sudden it's your pay grade after all." She smiles not unkindly at the receptionist. "All I want is to sit down and have a good, productive conversation about how this establishment might better integrate with the community it's found itself in. We'll have to talk somewhere private."

She suddenly lands her eyes on the old man hiding behind his book. "Hey Grandpa," she addresses him. "Anyone comes in, be a dear and tell 'em it'll be a minute before the receptionist comes back."

Then she steps around the counter as though she owns the place. "An office would be lovely. What's your name then? I ain't gonna call you sweet cheeks again."

Max waves away the tea politely. "Thanks Blossom, but I prefer the hard stuff."

She moves around the room as if giving it a brief inspection, then leans casually against the kitchenette counter. "Here's your deal. Everything from Angel Street to Falcon Square is under my protection. I don't run an extortion racket, and I don't force civilians into crime. In most respects, I let people conduct their business as they see fit. But community is important to me. And refusing service to an individual such as myself doesn't really seem like a healthy community."

"So, one of two things is going to happen. Either you're going to follow my rules, which I will explain to you and you will find reasonable. And once I'm finished explaining them to you, we're going to return to your desk and book me an appointment as soon as the doctor's schedule opens up. Or you're going to be gone by tomorrow. We clear?"

"Of course not," agrees Max wholeheartedly. "You're not running a charity, I understand. Though in time you may come to appreciate my stewardship enough to offer me a discount. Many people here do. But it's by no means required. Now, if this place is running above the board, I'll eat my fuckin' arm. So, what you're going to do is give me a list of everything your clinic will need in the near future along with my bill. I'll sell it all to you at market value, and I will be your primary supplier in the future. That's one of the rules, you don't do your business behind my back. If you need any help extricating yourself from your current business relationships, I can of course offer my services." She winks. "At a discount." As far as she's concerned, she's being perfectly reasonable and has had this conversation with other 'legitimate' businesses.

"Beyond that, most important thing is that you respect this community and everyone in it. Which means you don't turn away anyone from this community. You can still charge them an arm and an asshole, not a charity, we've established that."

Persephone listens to Benji's side of the conversation. When the conversation finally returns to her mark -- and she isn't sure it is even a tattoo using ink at all, but some magical ward, perhaps, like those that covered Wentworth's walls -- she walks over to Benji and crosses her arms, waiting. She looks at him with an expression that suggests she awaits an answer. Not impatient, exactly, which suggests irritation, but simply someone who thinks their time is very valuable and could be better spent doing other things than waiting for frog talk to conclude.

Max stares back at Blossom, just as incredulous. "Are you being serious with me right now? I ain't a grocery store and I ain't gonna sell you fuckin' toilet paper. No I'm talkin' about the stuff you can't get legally. And yes, you can still turn away people you can't treat. What I'm talkin' about is turnin' people away because of who they are, like you just did to me. If they live here, of course."

Then she pulls her jacket back a bit and pulls up her T-shirt, revealing puncture marks surrounding a hideous bite scar. "My nose happens to be beautiful. This is what I want taken care of. How much is it gonna cost me anyway?"

OOC: Changed wound to scar, since that's more accurate.

Max smiles in a way that she hopes is reassuring. "Course I can. He ain't gonna bother you again, consider your account there settled." Inwardly though, she's far from confident. She has a feeling that the particular black marketeer she will be dealing with is Jack the Merc. She had reluctantly dealt with him in the past, and found him to be extremely dangerous, and just as psychotic. She would have never agreed to muscle him out before her change. But now she was a werewolf, a force to be reckoned with, and that gave her the confidence to try. Besides, the thought of him squeezing people in her territory brought out a fury in her that would be frightening if it weren't so delicious.

When Blossom explains that she can't be treated Max raises her brow incredulously. "Really? I thought this was a surgery clinic, what is your doc? A faith healer?" A little suspicious after that song and dance, she nonetheless takes off her jacket and shirt and allows Blossom to take pictures of her mauled stomach. "Alright. If he can't help me, he can't help me. We'll do the consultation anyway. And the discount is greatly appreciated." She's too stubborn to admit that she can't afford the bill if the surgery is actually greenlit but... she can't afford the bill, and it's not her intention to force the clinic to work for free. She thinks about ways she might raise the money. Save up? Borrow it from someone powerful? Take out a loan? None of it seemed very likely.

She lists her fee for strongarming Jack. It's quite expensive itself, but certainly nothing near the astronomical price she'd just been quoted, and it even includes a 20% discount. "I only take payment in cash, of course," she concludes.

Persephone looks at her phone, sends a quick text, and looks up the bookstore on her map app. Then she turns to Benji and says, "Given the distance and drive time, my date schedule, and my private car being ready when we get downstairs, she can have one hour. Then I must return here for my date. Tell her we will arrive in about 20 minutes."

She turns to Circe and says, "If you wish to accompany us to the occultist bookshop, get your things, because we are leaving. And I need the condo empty when I return."

She prepares to leave, looking at Benji to join her. She doesn’t pay much attention to Circe, allowing her to do whatever she likes.

For her part, Circe gets a very annoyed and insulted look but grabs her things with a huff and joins them to go.

Max chuckles indulgently. "Nothing in this city is free, Blossom. You're welcome to deal with him yourself, of course, but if he is who I think he is, you'd better leave him to me. I'll take half the payment up front, and the other half upon resolution of the matter. Do you have the cash on hand? If not, I'll swing by tomorrow and pick it up." All in all, she's a little upset that she had to have this conversation, but she's pleased how this turned out. She came in with almost nothing and was going to walk out with a job and an opportunity to solidify her hold on her territory. That last part always felt good to the beast lurking within.

She gets dressed quietly. "Alright, seems I misjudged you. You aren't turnin' away folks because their parents weren't rich, or because you're bigots. I'm gonna let you do business as you see fit in that case."

"So," she says conversationally as she begins to head back to the reception area. "When's my consultation?"

"Uh-huh, tomorrow. I'll be by in the afternoon," she says as though the matter is settled.

Bumping into the doctor in the hall, she smiles when their eyes meet. "Ah, you must be the doctor. Your lovely associate here was just about to schedule me a..."

Max trails off when she sees Emma, her eyes going wide and her lips parting in shock. She pushes past Moss to get a closer look. "Emma? I mean... Emma Harper? Holy shit you're my favorite author! Your supernatural erotic-thrillers are the tits! Damn... sorry to just walk up to you like this but... I mean, can I shake your hand?"

As they ride, Persephone turns to Circe and says, very matter of factly, "Why not call up that wannabe father figure you were flirting with the other night? He seemed the type to want to protect a defenseless young woman--though you should be ready to pay his price, of course."

Circe is appalled. Persephone sneers at her expression and replies, "Don't be naive, girl! You think a man twice your age is interested in you for your mind? Hardly. If you are so prude, then here, get a hotel." She fishes out a credit card and hands it to Circe.

Circe is so stunned by the casual cruelty of the exchange that she just takes the card, agape.

---

Once at the shop, Persephone walks in, uninterested in books, instead seeking out Yasmine.

Max gives Emma a reverent handshake. "Yeah, I loved it. I mean, none of its real of course, but all the same you've got one hell of an imagination." She puts a hand on her hip and looks at Emma appraisingly. "You do know about the real stuff though, right? I mean, you and the doc were just talking about faeries, so you must."

Persephone tilts her head to the side, almost like a cat, and returns the look.

She nods and follows Benji, saying, "Well, it is more of a sigil, I think. I don't know if ink and needles were used. And It is rather useful to suppress all of my messy emotions, so I am still uncertain it is regrettable, thank you very much. Before I received this, my fool of a sister was about to have me committed for hysteria or some other 19th C nonsense."

"Yeah, you got that right," says Max ruefully, touching her stomach where she was bitten unconsciously. "I guess you just have to take the good with the bad. She blinks suddenly. Oh, how rude of me, forgot to introduce myself! Maxine Harvey, but just call me Max, that's what everyone does. And uhh... I don't really know any more about faeries than the next guy. They've been gone from London since before my time, so who can really say that they do?"

She brightens as though a thought just occurred to her. "Hey, maybe you'd like to continue this conversation over a coffee, beer, or other beverage of your preference? Ah, maybe that came out wrong, you're a married woman after all, I did read the author blurb in the back. Lemme just give my card, eh? If you feel like chatting, give me a ring."

Max hands Emma a business card she produces out of her jacket. It's suspicious in the extreme since it says nothing about her credentials, experience, or job, it simply has her name on the front, and a phone number on the back.

"Please, call me Max," says Max warmly as Emma departs. "Have a good rest of your evening Mrs. Harper."

She turns to the Doctor with a smile. "Ah, your lovely associate was just about to schedule a consultation for me regarding a wound. She was explaining that you might not be able to help, but she was generous enough to allow that you take a look nonetheless."

"But you really do look tired, Doctor. You can get all the details from her after you've had a breather, I'm sure."

Max smiles again. "I'll see you soon Doctor. Have a fine evening." She ushers Blossom back to the reception area so she can schedule her appointment, and if that goes off without a hitch, she says her goodbyes and begins the walk to her 'home.'

Persephone glances at Circe and decides not to snark back--this time. When Yasmine asks for details, she shrugs and says, "Hmm, let's see, I may as well give you the larger context, and in the absence of any direct instructions to keep such events a secret, I shall share what I know, in case such information is useful to you. My soul is contracted to a demon some call the Whispered One. A week ago, my friends abandoned me in the midst of a cult sacrifice and a cultist stabbed me several dozen times in the chest and torso with a large knife, after which a hellhound tore me to pieces and, ostensibly, consumed me. I awoke in a meeting with my Patron, which was less informative than I might have liked. I shall not complain, however, for my Patron returned me to the living, into a fully intact body. I was not so well-reassembled in mind, however, and had a breakdown. My loving sister had me committed, but my Patron had me removed from that situation, somehow teleporting me to my condo. I had some time lost there, and it was upon my arrival at my condo that this mark was to be found on my back, and its effects in place--namely, the absolute suppression of my emotions, including empathy and, I am now discovering, fear. I would have feared to share such detail with you prior to this, but now? It is all simply a matter of factual record."

She crosses her arms and looks Yasmine in the eye. She confronts her, saying, "I came here once before and asked indirectly about demonic contracts and you were less than helpful. I am not even certain if removing this mark is something desirable. Nevertheless, I would hear your thoughts; can you remove it and should I allow you to do so? I will take your suggestions under consideration."

Max is genuinely offended by Blossom's offer, and it shows on her face. "Blossom. Come on, work with me here. I am not some petty thug demanding that you empty your register. I am the protector of this neighborhood, and a professional. As such, I only accept payment in full." She gives Blossom a stern look. "Tomorrow. Have the money and my appointment ready. I'll be by to settle things." She flashes a smile. "Don't worry my dear, it'll be painless."

Max inclines her head. "Tomorrow then. Oh, and I'm sorry things got off on the wrong foot. I suppose I simply misunderstood the way you conducted business. Have a good evening, Blossom."

She departs Titania's and retrieves her umbrella from her duffel bag, taking the train back to her 'home.'

When Max gets home, she checks on her daughter Madison quickly, who is already asleep. Then she steps back out into the street, looking over the businesses, the residents, and the shady spots where crime might be going on, to see if all is going well.

A look of confusion passes over Circe's face until she realizes the purpose here. "Oh! Like, we're gonna overload the darn thing. Ok, so... I have a REAL good one then."

Persephone turns and arches an eyebrow curiously. She comments, "My dear, I doubt there is anything you could say that could compare to what I've experienced recently. But very well, do your worst." She looks bored by the whole process.

An angry look spreads over Circe's face as she recalls all of the many hurtful and cruel things that her big sister has done to her just in the past few hours, not to mention since her arrival here. She sets her jaw, steps close to Persephone, and says, "Do you remember your grad school fiancé, Vincent? He and I were sleeping together. Regularly. That's right; I was a freshman in college and he was 24 and he was planning to marry you but he preferred sleeping with me. You're a joke, and you'll probably die a sad old woman."

Circe steps back, appalled at what she has just said. She had clearly accessed a part of herself -- a skillset, let's say -- that Persephone is quite good with, but that Circe had always eschewed as awful. Well, the sisters are more alike than they may have realized.

Persephone’s eye twitches as Circe speaks and the muscles in her jaw visibly tense. Persephone knows that Circe is not a good liar—or, at least, she had thought so—so Persephone immediately concludes that what her sister says is true. What’s more, it matches with things that happened and that Vincent had said back then, which makes the words all the more impactful.

Persephone’s back becomes hot enough to the touch that a faint smell of burning emanates from her—though whether it is her flesh, body hair, or clothing isn’t clear.

Finally, she replies, her voice strained. She chokes out the words in a supreme act of control, saying, "I see. You , ahem, have violated my trust, Circe. And I.." She hesitates, seeming to struggle with inner feeling in conflict.

Circe watches Persephone squirm with a mix of horror at her own behavior and a touch of vengeful satisfaction. When Yasime clarifies that this is only to activate her emotions, not overload them, her eyes go wide. "What?! But I thought..." She quickly looks back at Persephone and whispers, "Oh my god..."

Persephone's eye continues to twitch and she continues to stammer. The smell of burning flesh grows stronger now. Finally, whatever internal struggle was occurring subsides and Persephone's eyes become clear. Her eyes narrow as she turns her baleful gaze upon her little sister. She speaks, her voice absolutely emotionless. Matter-of-factly, she says, "I lied to you about why he and I broke up, you know. I told you it was because he wanted to travel and I wanted to stay and work on my startup. The truth is I found out he was sleeping with pretty much anyone who would let him. Last I heard, he had contracted several STIs, so you may want to get yourself checked." Circe looks stunned, as all the blood drains from her face.

She turns to Benji and Yasmine and says, "This is ridiculous. I have a date and you are wasting my time." She waves her hand dismissively, turns on her heel, and walks out.

Circe stares, agape, as Persephone saunters out. She turns to face Yasmine when addressed and only blinks for a solid minute. Finally, she stammers, "Um, meaner... WAY meaner... Um, I need to go..." She takes out her phone and begins fumbling a web search for nearby clinics.

Meanwhile, Persephone heads back to her condo to prepare for Viv's arrival.

Circe looks up, her eyes welling with tears, and she says, "Yeah. Sorry about that. I, uh, I can try again to overload her, but... first I gotta get a car to take me to the clinic. Then... I dunno where I'm gonna go. Benji, do you have a place I... Oh nevermind. I guess... I'll figure it out." Clearly feeling very sorry for herself, she slumps toward the door to await the ride share she just ordered.

Persephone arrives at her condo and begins straightening things. Every so often, though, her hand begins to shake and she looks down at it, willing it to stop, until it does. She doesn't have a lot of time before Viv arrives, after all. She puts on an appropriate playlist of recent alt pop that is mellow enough to serve as background music, but not overtly romantic--yet. That playlist is waiting for later. She ensures she has several bottles of wine, as well as some small chocolates. She heads into her bedroom, straightens her pillows, and opens up her 'naughty drawer' to make sure a few relevant toys -- vibrator, strap, cuffs, blindfold, riding crop, lube, feather, etc -- are in reach of the bed. She gets a whiff of her own burnt flesh, so she heads to the shower.

Emerging after a quick wash of her back (which is sensitive to the touch, now), she retouches her hair and makeup, gets re-dressed, applies some perfume, and heads out to await Viv's arrival, which should be at any moment.

Max frowns and begins to approach the scene. She had been trying to curb down on the more violent criminals, with limited success. It turned out to be hard when you didn't exactly have the moral ground to stand on. Whatever was happening, she wants to address it here and now. She tries to get an idea of how many bobbies are on the scene, what they might be dealing with, and who else might be there, hoping the heavy rain can conceal her presence.

What the hell had happened? A tiger escape from the zoo? Someone's dog go berserk? Max wanted to just poke around herself, maybe interrogate a few pigs, but there were too many and she couldn't afford to make that kind of scene. No, what she needed was some kind of help. Desperately, she scans the crowd of bobbies, searching for one she might recognize...

Max had first met Kenedi when she was just a beat cop. She and her crew at the time had been robbing a house, she was lookout while the rest were doing the lifting. Maybe it was something in Max's eyes that showed potential, maybe Kenedi had been feeling merciful that day, but the most likely explanation was that she was underage, sobbing, and had a belly the size of a basketball. The officer had let her go with a warning while everyone else got arrested. Max knew she was expected to clean up her act in exchange for that show of grace... but instead she had only progressed further into the criminal underworld. Kenedi would know that if she had been paying any attention.

But she was also the only in Max had. So instead of avoiding the Sergeant in shame, she waves her down and tries to catch her eye. Maybe the woman has some answers that she desperately needs.

Persephone rolls her eyes and senses a twinge in her gut that she can't identify, one that before her tattoo might have been guilt, or maybe butterflies, but it is quickly suppressed.

She opens the door and acts surprised, saying, "Oh! Viv! You have perfect timing! I was about to head down to check my mail and here you are, just arriving! Much better than mail, that's for sure. What can I say? I prefer receive a female over a male...Ha."

Her joke is corny and delivered in an odd deadpan. A socially awkward and nervous baby queer like Viv might actually laugh at how bad the joke is, thereby breaking the tension. Or perhaps she'll be put off, seeing Persephone lacking her usual causal confident charm.

She gestures for Viv to enter and feigns surprise and joy over the champagne and chocolates. She sets them on the counter, takes Viv's coat and hangs it up, and then offers her a drink, some snacks, or whatever. Once they are situated on the couch, Persephone says, "So, now you may tell me how you have been. Then we can decide how we would like to spend our evening, though I believe I have a preference."

"Well," says Max, by way of her own greeting. "You're going to have to tell me what all this is before I can say how I'm caught up in it, seein' as how I just got here."

She looks around, licking her lips in a nervous display, then lowers her voice so that none can eavesdrop. "Listen. This is my turf, but I got no clue what's goin' on here. Let me help ya out. I can go where you can't, ask what you won't. Pay ya back for helpin' me out all those years ago. I just need somethin' to go on here. Just need a little information is all. Tit for tat, eh?"

You got it bitch. Just remember I tried playing nice.

Max holds up her hands in a helpless gesture and leaves Kenedi without another word. While cooperation from the police could have proven useful, Max honestly preferred not getting tangled up with them for obvious reasons. Time to get some work done her own way.

She wracks her brain trying to think of who might be able to help and comes up with Alara. She usually haunts this area and can see and hear far beyond what a human could. She might have noticed something. As Max understood it, Alara had been a vampire since the 2000s. She was from the states and certainly had a history there that she wouldn't discuss, and Max was far too committed to professional courtesy to press about. Still, she got the impression that the vamp was hiding from something.

She doesn't bother knocking on the door to Alara's flat, the night worker wouldn't be home at this hour. Instead, she goes roaming Alara's favorite streets, where she finds men and women who blur the line between customer and victim.

Persephone analyzes how the evening is progressing thus far. In her mind, she has a task set before her to lead Viv into a state of utter devotion, so that she will be malleable and will agree to sign a contract. When she performs her analysis, however, she realizes quickly that the intimacy quotient she had in mind is underperforming; after some thought, she notices that Viv seems almost embarrassed of her outfit. Perhaps Persephone should have acknowledged its attractiveness?

At some level, Persephone is well aware that this is NOT how she would normally conduct herself on a date. Normally, she is all feelings and instinct, going on vibes and gut. Now, however, she feels like a computer, evaluating from an outside POV watching the events play out. Suddenly, she notices another effect of this difference; she has no access to her libido, either. It was one thing to fake her way through conversation using rationality and analysis, and quite another to fake sexual arousal and orgasm from a place of cold reason. Perhaps she could fool a man with some well-timed and energetically performed moans and wiggles, but surely another woman would see through that, yes? Persephone is unsure, but for the first time, even her rational self recognizes a critical shortcoming in this sigil on her back. She sees no other option at the moment, however; the date must go on. Maybe it is time to skip ahead to what Viv truly wants.

"Viv, you look amazing in that outfit. May I see?" She stands up and walks around the island. "So lovely. May I...touch?" She steps very close to Viv and, with a practiced and steady hand, slides out of her cardigan sweater and the light blouse beneath it, followed by a quick flick of the zipper on her skirt. This leaves her standing next to Viv, wearing the lingerie she had put on beneath her clothes in preparation for this moment. She wears a black lace, open-cupped demibra, which leaves her breasts supported but exposed, no panties, and a matching black-lace garter belt, which holds up her sheer black stockings. She reaches out and takes Viv into her arms and begins foreplay.

She proceeds in a somewhat robotic fashion, but she recalls exactly what she had done the last few times that seemed most effective, and she strings those actions together skillfully, weaving a well-thought out and strategic tapestry of sexual pleasure for Viviana. Nevertheless, it lacks heart and soul--it lacks true passion. Persephone hopes that Viv is so nervous, inexperienced, and excited that she won't notice.

-- Persephone --
Persephone looks at Viv with a blank expression and responds in a matter-of-fact tone, saying, "Wrong? No, not at all. Things seem to be going according to plan. And speaking of, I was hoping you'd allow me to shower you with attention and pleasure tonight. I want tonight to be all about YOU. So how about..." she walks her fingers up Viv's arm and beneath her chin, tilting it up subtly, and continues, saying, "...we go to the bedroom? I have a set of soft cuffs and chains I've been dying to use on you. You will be entirely at my mercy, unable to move at all! You'll have to just lie there and take all the pleasure I give you!" This way, Persephone thinks, Viv won't notice that Persephone is entirely unresponsive to touch or arousal. Persephone was starting to see the draw of people who like to Domme full-time; you can always retain the feeling of control.--Circe--
Circe walks out of the clinic looking at her results. She went to a private, expensive clinic so that she can have all the rapid result STI tests, of course. She breathes a sigh of relief as she sees a long row of negatives, a little green check mark next to each one. She folds up the sheet and tucks it into her backpack and pulls up a map on her phone.

She finds her way to some shops and spends an hour buying things she doesn't need and hardly wants, dropping a thousand pounds or so in the blink of an eye. Next up is the most expensive restaurant she can get in to dressed like a college kid, and she spends a good 500 more there. She considers finding the most expensive hotel she can and blowing a few thousand on all the spa services, but she begins to wonder if she is taking this too far. Mostly, she feels sad and lonely, and the extravagant spending hasn't helped as much as she was hoping.

She sends some texts to a few of her new friends that work at the coffee shop--she's becoming a regular at the shop, as well as in their little circle of friends and lovers. Apparently, a large percentage of them are queer and polyamorous and are in something that Circe is just beginning to learn about called a 'polycule'. Unfortunately, it is "date night in the 'cule", as they call it, so most of them are busy and none of the others are free at the moment. She receives several offers to chat via text, and a few more to drop everything and be available if it's an emergency, but Circe isn't comfortable with that, so she says that she's just bored, no emergency here.

She is feeling sorry for herself and resentful of Persephone as she sits at the fancy dinner table picking at her dessert and sipping her fifth glass of ridiculously expensive champagne. Ugh! She's probably having sex, like, RIGHT NOW. This is so unfair! She just kicks me out like I'm a servant or something! She doesn't care about me, or if I'm happy, or safe or... She trails off and looks down at her phone, noticing Benji's number. Huh, let's see what she thinks when I tell her where I stayed!!

She sends Benji a rapid series of texts.

- hi benji its circe :D
- so earlier you said I could maybe crash at your place
- can I still do that
- i promise not to be a pest
- if you promise not to eat me
- lol

-- Circe --

Circe arrives at Benji's studio apartment. When the door opens, she already looks concerned; this is a very different vibe than Persephone's. When she enters, she wrinkles her nose, trying to identify the smell but also dreading the answer.

She gingerly steps into the apartment, clearly uncomfortable in the space -- perhaps because of Benji's vampiric nature, or maybe it's the claustrophobic, eccentric atmosphere. She looks around at the furniture, her eyes fixating on the sofa with a dubious expression on her face. She suddenly stops short and stare at the white raven. She turns to Benji and says, "Whoa! What is that?"

-- Persephone --
Once again, Persephone assesses the night's progress and realizes it is going poorly. And once more, she feels something in her gut twinge. She tries to turn her attention to her body, to the feeling in her gut. She reflects, Maybe...if I could at least determine what I WOULD be feeling without this sigil on my back, then I would know what to do... She turns to Viv and holds a finger up, asking her to wait a moment, and she sits down on the edge of the bed. Viv stands there at the foot of the bed, naked, while Persephone sits on its edge in revealing lingerie, looking down down at her feet and breathing steadily, trying to feel her feelings, but they just won't come. She feels her back burning and senses that, maybe, just maybe, she might be feeling ...guilty?

She knows she must act, even if it is on slim evidence, so she decides to try to be as honest as she can; maybe that will relieve the twinge in her gut. She looks up at Viv and says, "OK, I'm sorry. There is something wrong, but it's not you. It's... this new anxiety med I'm on. It's way too strong, I think; it's deadening my feelings and killing my libido. So it's ruining our date, and I really wanted this to go well, and for you to really enjoy yourself and be happy, so I was trying to fake my way through it, and it obviously isn't working, and I...I don't know what to do..." She cuts herself off, surprised. She realizes she was rambling, though her rational mind struggles to understand why. She suddenly feels full of self-doubt and she looks up into Viv's face, vulnerable and confused.

Max glances over Alara's shoulder, noting the dampness under the coat rack. She tries to peek over her shoulder a moment, snooping for more information even. Then she looks at Alara with concern. "Hey Alara. I uhh... needed to know if you know something. Took me forever to find you, usually you're out and about at this hour. Everything good here? You sound a little out of it, doll."

Max steps into the apartment and looks around, seeking more clues to Alara's condition. She sits on her couch without being invited, folding one leg over the other. Then she cuts to the chase. "How long since you last fed?" Vampires needed to feed every day, right? Or was it every week? In truth, it was a subject that Max had had zero interest in until this moment. "And uhh... how long has it been since you were s'posed to feed?"

-- Circe --
Circe approaches the raven with a look of awe and fascination. "I've heard of white ravens before, but never seen one! One of my majors for a while was zoology; I wanted to study the brains of highly intelligent animals that weren't mammals--like Octopoda, Bees, and Corvids. The fact that they were so smart but developed intelligence in a totally different way than we did is super cool! But the coursework was too hard and I wanted time to do my art, so... Now I like to draw ravens, at least.". She stands next to the cage and makes eye contact with the bird. She says, "Well, ravens, like all corvids, are omnivores, but I think they tend to eat bugs, nuts and seeds, and small lizards and mice in the wild. And, of course, human food garbage, too. But in captivity? They could be trained to eat almost anything." She's no scientist, but she does spend some time examining the raven, its cage, and its behavior.

Eventually, she turns back to Benji and apologizes, saying, "Oh! I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to, like, ignore you. But you have a Raven! That is so cool. Anyway, uh... So.". She walks over to the sofa and sits down, awkwardly shifting her weight. She says, "So, is this where I can sleep?"

-- Persephone --
Persephone looks at Viv and smiles, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. Still, that weird twinge in her stomach seems to be gone, so maybe that was the right thing? Viv does seem more at ease now, at least. Perhaps more honesty will continue this trend.

She says, "So, I should tell you about my work. They are a very secretive corporate entity that uses unconventional methods, to put it lightly. For example, when I needed something to help with my anxiety and, um, PTSD, they gave me... this."

She turns, allowing Viv to see the strange tattoo on her back. She says, "You know how you can get a birth control device implanted for long term, constant protection? This is like that, but for anxiety. So this thing is likely to be there for a while, having this effect. I am looking into ways of removing it, however." She looks up at Viv again and shrugs, as if this sort of thing was entirely normal. She adds, "They are not morally good people, the ones I work for. They definitely operate outside of the normal legal and moral limits. I guess this is an example of that. I'm sorry."

She stands and hugs Viv, because that seems to be something a movie character would do after divulging personal information. She notices their naked bodies touching, but still feels no arousal. A hint of sadness accompanies this realization, but she ignores it. Then she says, "How about we get dressed and watch some movies? I believe they call it Netflix and Chill."

That way, she thinks to herself, we can spend time together without having to talk.

— Circe —
Circe tilts her head and smirks at Benji. She says, "Are you for real right now? How is it that one of the nicest guys I meet ends up being a blood drinking vampire? Um, no offense. Like seriously, though — you aren’t anything like my expectation, you know? Hell, you’re more human than my sister… "

She sighs and looks around the room, seemingly bored and not quite ready for sleep. She looks back at him and asks, "So, what’s it like being a vampire anyway? Do you live forever? What about, like, crosses and stuff? Can you enter a home without being invited? Oh what about garlic? That would suck; I love garlic!"

— Circe —

Circe takes it all in and sits for a moment, thinking. She looks like she could ask a million more questions, but instead she just smiles and says, "Wow. I wanna, like, pick your brain for hours about your experience, the history you’ve lived through, and so much more. But, um, you’re already doing me a big favor letting me crash here, so… Thanks!"

Persephone registers a note that Netflix and Chill is a slang term for sex, something she surely would have remembered normally, but this stupid sigil seems to be malfunctioning or something and now she is having trouble with metaphors and slang and her thoughts seem to be less structured than they usually are as if they were water running down stairs in a dreary London under blankets of clouds like old wool covers from before the war that smell like mothballs and grandma's house.

Persephone blinks, stunned by her momentary mental lapse. She looks over at Viv and regains her composure, saying, "Well, that's the joke, right? We're going to actually just chill and watch Netflix. And Circe is out this evening, probably with her friends from the coffee shop. There's an older guy who has developed an interest, I think; I'm not sure yet if it's mutual. Here..."

She gestures at the minimalist sofa, which, truth be told, isn't actually very comfortable to sit on, much less cuddle up for a movie night. Still, it will have to do, as Persephone searches for the remote to the large flatscreen on the wall opposite.

Max looks Alara in the eye. "Cause you got me fuckin' scared for you dollface. You gonna tell me nothin's wrong? Gonna tell me you're fine after that song and dance about how tough things are? I'll take you at your word, but if you're in trouble and need a little help, I'm gonna require a little honesty here." She sits back and watches Alara, waiting for a reply. She'd like to think that they're friends, but that's the sort of thing that she likes to think about everyone who lives in her territory. Perhaps they're just acquaintances. No matter the truth of it, her desire to help is genuine. The thought of someone starving here, in this land she's marked for herself, feels completely unacceptable.

"Only my usual diet of pigs and collection agents," quips Max, naming her two 'favorite' kinds of people. She's a fair hand at deflection herself. She's not smiling though; in fact, she puts a hand to her nose and closes her eyes. Alara has given her a great deal to unpack in very few words.

"Look, I didn't come here to accuse you of snacking on normies. Funnily enough, I didn't even bring up the subject, you did. Which tells me you have what I need. See, I just got back from a police cordon. Seemed like a major crime, noticed an animal control van which struck me as odd because I haven't heard of no tigers escaping the London Zoo. Kenedi was there but she stone walled me as usual, so I'm left with no fucking clue with what's going on. I came here because it was near your favorite haunts, so I thought you might have seen or heard something, since you can see and hear pretty well."

She sighs. "We both know I'm not the patient type. So, let's not keep dancing around the subject. What do you need? Is it blood? Are you hungry? Cause if that's what it is, I've got a couple ideas I'd like to try."

Max shoves her duffel bag beside her on the couch, digs her cell phone out of her pocket, and scrolls through her contacts. Benji is near the top.

hey long time no see
wish it were better circumstances but ive got a friend in need
shes hungry
you got any of those capri suns i always see you squirting down your throat?
i think shes worse off than shes letting on

-- Persephone --
Persephone looks at Viv and can see her discomfort on her face. According to Persephone's analysis, she has failed to connect with Viv in any meaningful way every time she'd tried tonight; indeed, she was in danger of irreparably destroying this relationship and absolutely failing her Patron. The rational thing to do, then, was to remove the sigil. Better to deal with the erratic emotions and have a chance of connecting with Viv, rather than ensuring failure without them.

She stands and says, "I need to have this, um, anti-anxiety implant removed. I want YOU, Viv. I want to be able to FEEL you. To Connect with you. And this 'treatment' is preventing it." She sighs and adds, "I need to pee. If you'll excuse me..."

She slips into the bathroom and closes the door behind herself. She sorts through a drawer and pulls out a microplaner, a shielded blade used to scrape the topmost layer of dry skin off the face. She squints at it, and then efficiently snaps off the safety guard. She turns to show her back to the mirror, and examines the sigil carefully. Almost like a puzzle, she follows the various lines and circles with her eyes, until she sees a way to carve a single gouge across the sigil that would break every line of the pattern. Hopefully, she thinks, this will disrupt the magic without her having to cut the whole thing off. By then, it has been a few minutes, and Viv becomes concerned. As she approaches the bathroom, she smells smoke and throws open the unlocked door. The smoke lingers in the air and the floor is a bloody mess. She begins to get a look of horror on her face, but then she sees Persephone standing at the far end of the bathroom, leaning against the wall, looking pale and sweaty.

-- Circe --
Circe yawns, but when Benji says he is going out, she perks up and asks, "Oh yeah? Where are you going? Like... a vampire party? Oooh, is there a vampire bar in town? And do you have, like, vampire groupies? Like 'fangbangers', from True Blood? Can I tag along? or would I be, like, in the way, or in danger, or something?"

She stops suddenly and adds, "Oh, but um, it's not my business, obviously. Sorry for being intrusive."

Max doesn't do anything to shoo Alara away, she just concentrates on texting Benji, continuing to blow up his phone with short rapid-fire messages.

great thanks
i appreciate it im sure she does too
well head there now to meet u

She glances up at Alara with a smirk. "Ya get all that? We're going to meet a friend in Picadilly whose got some blood bags for you." She rises up from the couch and grabs up her duffel bag, strapping it across her bag. "What the hell's this bullshit about getting permission to feed anyway? I sure as hell don't recall telling you not to feed, and this is MY territory you're in. So, who was it?" The question is more of a command.

Max scowls. "You got a bad habit of ignoring my questions and going off." Max is starting to lose her patience with a woman that she's trying very hard to help. She decides not to answer Alara's question since Alara isn't answering hers. Fine, bloodsuckers can play bloodsucker games, why should I care? Only she did care. Not about Elliot, not about vampire politics, but the fallout that rained on what she thought of as 'her' people. As she stalks to the door to Alara's flat, preparing to leave, she doesn't notice the moon shining in from Alara's window. A low growl escapes her. It's a bad sign, but by the time she hears herself it's too late. She stares down at her hands and watches fur sprout from them while her fingernails morph and curl into wicked claws. Soon her clothes fall off of her like shed reptilian skin, landing unharmed on the floor of the apartment.

She has transformed. Immediately she spins to Alara, lupine eyes wide. She stretches her paws forward and lets out a low whine, trying not to make any aggressive movements. "Alara!" She growls. "Uhh... don't worry, I ain't about to go ballistic on you! It's just... had to deal with the cops, and then you were stonewalling me, and this is all so frustrating. Sometimes this happens when my emotions get the better of me. Just gimme a minute, I'll change back!"

The dam has broken. Persephone collapses on the floor as all the tears, all the anguish, all the fear and grief and pain--it all comes rushing in. She curls herself up, wrapping her arms around her legs as she sits on the floor, surrounding by blood-soaked towels, sobbing. After a time, she looks up at Viv and, through the tears and the snot and the shuddering, she manages to get out, "I... A few weeks ago I was... attacked, violated. And I had a breakdown. I almost got committed to an asylum because the trauma was ...bad. And so my employer put the emotion blocker on, which is horrible, but it worked. Too well, I guess. So when I tried to sever the circuit, it... shorted out and burned and bled and...now I feel it all again. Viv, I don't know how I can feel all this! The pain... what he did to me..."

She blubbers and weeps, falling toward Viv and resting her head at her feet.

In her wolf form, Max can't say anything to reassure Alara, much as she would like to. Her emotions are a whirl of fury and instinct and awesome power, and it's all she can do to keep them at bay, to struggle to put them back in their neat little compartments so she can retake her human body.

She lets out a whine again and shakes her head at Alara. Then she lies flat in front of the door, making no effort to pursue her. Hopefully that will convince the terrified vampire that she's less dangerous than a five-story belly flop - for the moment, anyway.

— Persephone —
Persephone looks up and embraces Viv, sobbing quietly until she runs out of tears. Her back has stopped bleeding already and, remarkably, the wound seems to be closed, though it is still red and angry, bisecting a burn pattern across her back where the sigil once was.

She pulls herself to a stand and wraps her arms around herself. She looks at Viv, her eyes red and bloodshot from how hard she’d been sobbing, and stammers, "I don’t know what it was, to be honest. But when I cut into it, it started smoking and burning … some kind of electromagnetic ink maybe? My employer… is very unusual…"

Gathering her senses, she reaches over and takes a robe from a nearby hook and wraps it around her naked body. She embraces Viv again and weeps softly, whispering, "Thank you. Thank you for listening. For not running away when things got… weird. And… for believing me. I haven’t reported what happened because… I didn’t think it would do any good."

She pulls back and gazes deeply into Viv’s eyes and says, "I feel safe with you." and then gives her a tender kiss.

— Circe —
Circe follows Benji a half-block behind him, feeling a little bit like Jason Bourne. Or maybe one of the girls from Mission: Impossible? Definitely not Tom Cruise tho — gross.

She catches up to him at Picadilly Circus as he watches a busker playing music. As he chats with the other musician, Cirice walks up and says, "Hi Benji! You guys gonna duet?"

-- Persephone --
Persephone nods and shuffles out of the bathroom, the first few steps onto her bedroom carpet leaving bloody footprints. Ignoring this, she slowly regains her composure and draws a big breath. She blinks and says, "I was expecting to feel worse after that ...whatever it was got removed. When they put it on me, I was nearly catatonic with PTSD. But now I feel... I dunno, not good, but not like that any more. Huh...Maybe I was still processing the trauma while being unable to, like, feel it? Whatever."

She looks at Viv and smiles, and then breaks into a laugh. The musical sound, and the earnest pain in her voice in the bathroom, stand in stark contrast to the cold monotone of her speech earlier. She looks at Viv warmly and says, "This has NOT been a very good date, has it? I'm so sorry! Let's... I dunno, do want to just sit with each other and talk, or listen to music, or something? I think we need to start over, and take it easy."

Max raises her head and nods to Alara, then rises up slowly. The sheer absurdity of the situation was breaking through her anger, reminding her of her humanity again. The wild fury of the werewolf shatters fully when she comes to a decision, looking at the frazzled, timid vampire. She's going to protect her.

With her mind made up, she reclaims her human form, her muscles twisting unnaturally, fur shrinking back into pink flesh, and her paws becoming agile hands again. Soon she's standing upright in Alara's abode, stark naked.

She holds up a quelling hand to the vampire and steps forward, panting. "Shit, shit. Alara. Sorry about that little display hun. Still new at this whole bein' a monster thing. Sometimes when I'm getting a little too emotional the wolf slips out. I don't go ballistic or nothing, it's just a thing that happens." Well, sometimes she did lose herself fully to the beast within, but even then it's not like she had ever attacked anyone she cared about or who wasn't a threat to her. "You alright babe? You had me worried you were about to go skydiving without your parachute."

"Benji? Heh, don't think the old boy dates outside his century." She's aware of her clothes and effects on the ground but makes no move to grab them and put them on, she wouldn't call herself an exhibitionist perse (though others had certainly used the word to describe her), just someone with a pragmatic approach to nudity.

Meeting Alara's desirous gaze she smirks confidently and spreads her arms. "Ya get all that? Or did you want me to spin around for you?" Actually, exhibitionist probably was the best word to describe her. Her expression, however, turns solemn when she remembers the decision she made. "Hey, listen babe. I uhh... sorry about before. It's a shitty situation, and it's frustrating for me too. I want you to know that you've got my permission to feed. Anyone has a problem with that, just direct 'em to me. At least... until you bloodsuckers get your whole vampire lord business sorted out. And uhh... don't kill anyone, or I'll have to boot you off my territory."

— Persephone —
Persephone nods and replies, "Yeah… I’ll probably have more tears over it, and I need to book a therapist. It helps knowing I’m not alone though." She turns to Viv and smiles.

When Viv talks revenge, Persephone replies with a nod and evil grin, saying, "Oh yes. I have plans for him… I think I might be able to ruin him. Professionally I mean."

She cuddles up with Viv on the sofa and tries to relax. It does not come easily.

— Circe —
Circe smiles at the busker and says, "Yep, American! Visiting my sister. Oh, I’m Circe. Hi! Oh, and, um, let’s see, do you know any Billie Eilish, or Chappell Roan?"

— Circe —
Circe excitedly nods when Benji plays the first few notes of Pink Pony Club, but says, "Aww, that’s ok. I’m happy to just listen. I wanna hear you play!"

Max doesn't spin around for Alara, if they're going to be playing that game, she's certainly not going to be the player taking orders. She nods grimly at Alara's thanks. "Just don't rock the boat any more than you have to and remember who fucking stuck their neck out for you when the time comes." Implying without outright saying that she might have to call upon the vampire to repay the favor one day.

She shakes her head at the offer of borrowed clothes. "Nah, my things are right here. Can you imagine if my clothes got shredded every time I wolfed out? You know damn well I don't have a lot of money, my wardrobe budget would bankrupt me!"

She gets dressed in front of Alara, trying to make sure the beretta doesn't make any uncomfortable noises in its jacket holster, and then nods. "So, you got a car or we takin' the train?"