Anthony Letcher - Going home.

It was a long and cold night for Anthony as he walked away from the scene of the crime and rang Sebastian up, telling him to be at the square in ten minutes. He spent the rest of the time thinking, his brain clicking away over what he'd seen, trying to pull gems of knowledge from the depths of ignorance. A young boy with a penknife did attempt to mug him, but the unfortunate soul had no training in combat at all except for that which he'd clearly learnt on the street. So Anthony disarmed him, stabbed him in the leg and walked on, after telling the boy about the foolishness of holding a weapon you weren't prepared or trained to use. It was important to educate these poor souls so he handed out one of his own gems every now and again.

He was driven home in silence, Sebastian knew Anthony would speak if he wanted to talk and soon he was back in Autumn district, climbing softly up the stairs and eventually unlocking his door and steeping inside. He walked through the dark rooms, only slightly illuminated by glowing strips to be followed in case of an emergency. Edgar cawed at him as he flew from the kitchen, giving Anthony the heads-up to raise his arm as a perch. Anthony gave him a little tickle under the chin and then opened the door to his room. Edgar flew on ahead, landed and jumped around a little nest he'd fashioned out of an old box of chocolates, fabrics and shiny things he'd found around the house. Anthony smiled at the bird before disrobing, leaving his clothes over a table at the foot of his bed. The items would be collected by Maria in the morning, 6 AM sharp, have his belongings shifted out of them and then taking away to be cleaned, and all without a sound. God-bless that girl, how she was able to be quiet enough to now awake a restless and light sleep like him was a miracle he would not question. As his head hit the pillow, his conscious mind shifted to a silent state, while ideas were born and test-fired in the deeper recesses of his mind.

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“One day you wake up and realize the world can be conquered.”

"Hmm." Louie uttered in an impressed manner about Justin getting them a gig in Spring District. He didn't ask Henry any other questions about it; there seemed to be an unsaid understanding that everyone just wanted to go to sleep and forget about the incident in the alley. The man shuffled to the kitchen where several buckets used to collect rain water was kept. Using an old rag, the man soaked it and did his best to clean his scrapes and cuts from earlier. Everyone being as poor as they were made it very difficult to pay for medical bills if for any reason one of them had to go to the hospital. Once satisfied with disinfecting his wounds, he wandered to the part of the building which served as the living room. He collapsed into an old reclining chair which had been found during one of their dumpster diving escapades and using his coat as a blanket, eventually drifted off to sleep.

Jack looked back at Chester in confusion. The response was strange enough, but the worried look on his, and everyone's faces made it stranger. He was bursting to know what had caused it, but he'd trust the older man. As long as it wouldn't affect them in the future, it would be fine. "Okay...," Jack sounded pretty unsure. "Okay, I'll trust ya." His response was firmer. Jack abruptly stretched and yawned, and patted Chester back on the arm. "I'll be going to bed now. You look pretty tired yourself y'know." He made his way to the stair, mind wide awake and trying to fathom what would cause such a behaviour in the family. Nothing came to his mind. I'll sleep on it. "Night Chester." Jack made his way to his room, and plonked himself down on the couch, as the bed was taken. Since he couldn't think of any reason for the bomb, Jack decided to lest the matter rest. It wasn't like it could hurt him or Riem anyways.

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"Are you going to finish that?"

Thursday, April 26th 2012

Though his cell phone was useless for making calls, Henry's small electronic device functioned perfectly well as an alarm clock. Shivering as he rose, Henry turned off his cell phone, the small electronic display showing that it was 6:30 AM. Henry was largely an insomniac, and spent most of his nights lying awake on a couch only occasionally fading from consciousness. He had managed to sleep at some point on this night, but his rest was dreamless and unsatisfying. He looked outside of the large windows to see the streets were still dark. One of the things he hated most about the Weather Generator was the strange effect it had on light. Within Winter District, the Sun behaved as though it were in fact in Winter, with nights arriving early and days starting late. Even now at the end of April the streets looked like any December. The same could be said of Summer District, though in reverse. Only Spring and Autumn District still obeyed the Sun's normal whims.

Walking over toward the window, Henry opened a low panel and pulled a bag upward. The improvised food storage method had become the fancy of several photographers passing by at times and Henry couldn't help but feel a little proud at his own resourcefulness. He pulled a carton of milk and a bag which contained several individually wrapped breakfast sausages. Taking enough of the sausages for each member of the Family, Henry drank the last milk from the carton and tossed the container out of the window, letting it fall onto the snowy ground outside.

"All right ya bums! Time to wake up!" Henry walked around the flat, tossing breakfast sausages at each member of the Family. "Eat up and eat fast! We've gotta get out to the bus and get ovuh' ta Spring District! Wear your nicest clothes and pack awl the outfits ya got, this job'll be multi-day!" Henry snapped a portion of the small breakfast meat off with his teeth. He was still dressed in his nicer clothes from the night prior and only gave them a brief dusting. "Up and at 'em, boys, we got work needs doin' and a new prospect needs judgin'!"

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These are a few of my favorite things

"Mmh?" Chester moaned groggily. One of Henry's breakfast meats landed on the pillow in front of him, startling him mildly. "Muh. Breakfast in bed, you shouldn't've." He stretched out in the small cot, his back cracking loudly. Relaxing again, Chester remembered the plays of the previous night, and the spoils thereof. He dug around in his pockets until he found a roll, then tore it in half and placed the sausage inside.

Sitting up and taking a bite of his improvisation, Chester began to remember the rest of the previous evening. It was too early for him to decide whether or not it had actually happened, or had just been a dream. His thought was interrupted by the rest of Henry's wake-up call. He leaned over and pulled a battered gym bag out from beneath his cot. It already held his changes of clothing, so he simply zipped it up and slung it over a shoulder. Chester felt like he was forgetting something, and finally realized everything was incredibly blurry. He fumbled for his glasses, then finished off the food.

"Henry, you got any more details on this job? Or are we just flying blind?"

Rodger rustled awake in his cot, keeping his eyes clothes. As Henry's breakfast made its way toward him, he grabbed with his left. Rodger grunted loudly as he captured his prize, being reminded of his injury he retained after last night's incident. Luckily, it was just a soreness, and he figured that it shouldn't require much attention. "Real shame about the girl, eh Henry?" He couldn't help but feel for the poor girl, but was more relived it wasn't the daughter he has been searching for. "I should hope this job shouldn't require any heavy lifting..." he trailed off, massaging the soreness out of his arm.

Riem started awake at the sound of henry's loud calls. He was well rested and cheerful, a great start to the day. Shaking Jack awake, he went to get both their saussages from Henry. The man told him to get ready for a job: his good clothes will be needed. I wonder what it is this time. Riem hadn't been out of the Winter district for a little while. The change in temperature would be much welcome.

Upon returning to his room, Riem saw Jack was wide awake, and getting dressed. "We have a job today," Riem informed him, pasing the saussage as he did so. "Would you like to go? I did go to the play last night after all, so it's only fair if you want to go." Jack finished munching on his food before replying: "Sure I'll go. It might be fun. But I don't see why we both cant go, everyone knows ther's two of us anyways." Riem frowned at this. He'd like to go with Jack, but for some reason, he didn't want people to have confirmation of them being different people. "I'll follow a while behind if you want. It is useful to be able to switch, so even if everbody knows, they haven't said a thing about it yet, so it's no problem." His brother sighed. "Have it your way then, but be careful. I don't want o have you lost if you couldn't keep up. How useful a mobile would be." They both got dressed in silence after this. Their good clothes were of the same make, but upon close scruntiny, one could tell they weren't exactly the same.

_________________
"Are you going to finish that?"

"Oof." Louie muttered as a breakfast sausage landed squarely on his stomach. He stretched and yawned, smacking his mouth as he tasted his bitter morning breath. He lazily ate his breakfast while he shuffled down the hall to the bathroom where he proceeded to clean himself up for the day, thankful to get out of Spring District for a while. Once dressed in the clothes he wore the night before, which unfortunately had some tears in them due to the alley incident, he grabbed his coat off the recliner which was more or less his bed and made his way to the door. As he waited for the others, his mind took him back to the night before. Everything about it was supernatural. Louie was starting to think there was something bigger going on and it scared him as he couldn't find the logic in it. The image of the girl with the rock and the hole in her head crept back into his thoughts, it was a mental image he wished he could erase. The bum turned to look for anyone nearby to talk to about anything, something to take his mind off of last night.

The breakfast sausage smacked Eddie square in the eye as he jolted awake. He shivered a bit, having forgotten to dawn warmer clothes before drifting off to sleep. The warm yet meager breakfast did little to comfort this feeling, though it didn't take long for the writer to get up and moving. He quickly made his way to his office. It was filled with tattered books, loose paper (some of it crumpled and tossed towards a waste basket), and plates with bits of crumbs dotting them. There was no room for a bed or any other furniture besides the desk that sat in the very middle. A few nails in the side of the wall had served as hangars for his few outfits.

After donning his best suit and warmest coat, Edmond searched further through his office until he found a most tattered looking scarf and hat. The aged man was just about to make his way out when he suddenly stopped in the middle of the doorway and turned back around. "Ah! I almost forgot!!" he quickly shuffled back to his desk, digging through the piles of paper before finally pulling out a notepad and pencil. It was his latest piece, a children's book about global economy, and he simply couldn't leave it behind. "Hm, perhaps I should bring a few of my other books as well. I'm certain the others will want something pleasant to read during trip." Convinced, Edmond clapped his hands together and continued digging through the piles until he'd recovered roughly ten novels and 15 to 20 short stories to distribute among the others.

"So much f'r packing light.." Henry muttered as the horrible writer emerged. Everyone seemed to be assembled and Henry began leaving, his own overnight bag loaded with clothes and some scraps of food. He beckoned the others and as they filed out, shut the door behind them. Not that it mattered, as the door's lock had broken and it never stayed closed.

As the group moved to the bus station, Henry breathed deep in the morning air, the sulfurous stink let out by the nearby factories was a refreshing scent for him. A bus pulled up, letting the smell of its exhaust also flood Henry's nostrils. Others often came to the man and wondered aloud how he could stand living in Winter District with the rancid odor of the factories which permeated the streets of the Industrial Sector each and every morning, but it was always a smell which comforted Henry, reminding him of childhood trips to Pittsburgh where a good portion of his friends lived. They would wander around the steel mills and play games, the smell of sulfur and other chemicals wafting about their ventures.

As the bus arrived, Henry and the Family boarded, and were soon off for the New World Orchard building in Spring District. The bus ride was slow, primarily due to traffic, and the Family was let off a block from the building, which they walked quickly, finding themselves at the site of their job.

The New World Orchard building was a marvel of luxury in Spring District, an obelisk of chic living in the middle of the urban metropolis. It was surrounded by lower-class buildings, restaurants and the like, giving it a feel similar to many of the popular hotels in New York City. Henry breathed in deep and crossed the threshold into the lobby, a rich hall of marble with high windows looking outside onto the sidewalk, kept impeccably clean, and a series of fountains with smooth black rocks in them decorating the hall. On one side of the room was a bar and concierge, as the building was known to operate similarly to a hotel, with a full set of room-service staff and other services afforded the people living in it. Beyond the concierge was a doorway which led into a breakfast diner, a room which was much lower in class than the apartment, but was technically a different mailing address, and therefore unable to taint the reviews of the NWO building in critic's reviews. On the other side of the room was a small lounge with plush leather chairs and a glass coffee table adorned with copies of GQ, the Times, USA Today, and the Samhain Revere, the chief newspaper of the fair city.

Henry stood observing the scenery, admiring it and at the same time, looking for Justin. He would have sat in the lounge but it was currently occupied by several men in very expensive suits who seemed to be looking disparagingly at the Family as they stood in the lobby.

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These are a few of my favorite things

_________________
"Are you going to finish that?"

While Chester performed card tricks in the Spring District frequently, he was not familiar with the particular area the Family was currently in. He had found that upper-class individuals were less likely to stick around and appreciate the magic, something about how valuable their time was. Moving inside the NWO only served to further his disorientation, everything being so crisp and clean. The scrutiny of the fancy men did not help. Chester took it all in stride, figuring that as long as the Justin kid arrived soon they wouldn't have any problems.

His eyes trailing off from the suits, the newspaper on the coffee table caught the old man's attention. He casually made his way over and, deciding that nobody nearby had already laid claim to it, picked up the Samhain Revere. Chester flipped through the pages until he found the police report, which he scanned for any sign of last night's incident. He wondered if the authorities had any idea what had happened, and he wanted to make sure that there hadn't been any other witnesses that had placed the Family at the scene of the murder.

"-you know what I'm talking about Halberstr-" one of the men was cut off mid-sentence to another as Chester approached. As the old cardshark perused the paper, he found that there was no indication of a report on the murder witnessed the previous night.

"Hey, thrift store, move." the man who cut his sentence off began to Chester, "You and your friends lost? This isn't the damn social security office." The man reached past Chester and grabbed a small tumbler filled with sparkling water.

"Hey, easy there, Owen." Another man began, this one also sitting in a suit. His hair a dark brown gelled back into a wavy hairstyle. "We need to respect our elders now, pull together as a nation in these hard times." He looked at Chester, "Excuse me sir, what's your name, and is there something we can help you and your friends with?"

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These are a few of my favorite things

Chester looked up from the paper at Owen, ready to tell him to respect his elders. However, he gave a smile when the other man did it for him. "Thank you, young man." He folded the paper up, setting it back on the table. "I am Chester Duvall, pleased to meet you. We," he waved back toward the Family as he spoke, "are associates of a Mr. Justin... Justin Carr, yes." He nodded as he remembered. "We made arrangements to meet with him here, though it's possible we're a little early. I don't suppose you know him?" He focused his attention on the speaker that was not Owen.

The man smiled, handing Chester his card, the man's name was also Chester, Chester Halberstram, to be exact. "I'm sorry, I don't know your friend," this new Chester addressed the elderly man, "But if he's an associate of yours, he should be easy to spot when he arrives."

"Hey, wasn't that ****o* from last night at Thomson's place named Justin?" A third man, neither Owen nor Halberstram, interjected. "You know, the one with the beard?"

"Oh yeah, think that was him. He's staying with a man named Gregory Thomson, a consultant at Reinhardt's." Halberstram described the man, a disparaging tone in his voice as he clearly looked down on the man named Thomson.

"Can you believe that son-of-a-bitch gets paid a million a year?" Owen began, shaking his head, which Halberstram began to do as well. "I mean, we're working our asses off and we only get paid 1.5 million a year? I mean, you feel it around the office.. am I the only one that thinks we aren't getting paid enough?" Owen looks disparaged, drinking water slowly from his tumbler. Halberstram nodded his head in assent of Owen's words before pointing up to a flight of stairs where a young man appeared. The young man was dressed in a black Rolling Stones t-shirt with long, scraggly blond hair and a shaggy blond beard on his face. "There's your guy." Halberstram noted, looking as if he wanted to shoo Chester away.

Henry approached the young man, "Justin, Justin, we've spoken on the phone. Donald Roodmas," Henry offered his hand, which Justin shook. "These are my associates, I believe we'll get to know each other as time goes on. Tell me, is Mr. Thomson ready to have us in yet?"

Justin shrugged in response, nodding his head backward to show that he wanted the Family to follow. Henry disliked the boys uncouth behavior, but followed anyways, going up the stairs behind Justin and beckoning the others to follow.

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These are a few of my favorite things

Chester looked at the card. "Chester, eh? Good name." He said it quietly, and it was ignored. Once Mr. Halberstram pointed Justin out, the eldest Beltane thanked him and took his leave, picking up on the man's disinterest in continuing any conversation with him. He followed Henry up the stairs.

Anthony and Maria. Good morning.

Your eyes flick open as the curtains are pulled open and immediately shut as the light sears into your corneas. You immediately pull your blankets up around you and huddle defensively as you wonder what the hell is going on. What is she thinking? This is so...Rude. Maria. you say calmly, your eyes opening just enough to see a blurred shape moving against the light. Yes sir? She responds, all happy and chirpy as she always is in the morning. What do you think you're doing? My job sir. I gathered that Maria. What I meant was, why are you doing it now, when I'm still here, when I was still asleep and felt that it was necessary to try and blind me. Because I always start cleaning at eight o'clock sir, like you told me to sir. You hear a glass clink as she puts something on your bedside desk. Yes, I did say that Maria. You sit up, your eyes still mostly closed as you reach carefully for the glass. But, it isn't eight o'clock. I'm afraid it is sir. Don't forget the aspirin sir. Oh yes. Thank you Maria. And it isn't eight o'clock. It is sir. It isn't. It is, sir. Ignoring the fact that, it isn't, it's generally considered quite rude for a maid to repeatedly disagree with her, or I suppose his, employer. I know it isn't eight because I never sleep in to eight. Even if I was tired enough for that to happen, my alarm would go off. That it would sir. If you'd set it, sir. You stare at her as she continues cleaning the room, singing a tune under her breath as she uses a small brush to clean along the windowsill.

... You check the alarm, and she's right. It is eight o'clock. A minute past now. Good punctuality on her part. You swallow the aspirin silently and swing your legs out of bed. You've never been in a position like this before. Thankfully, Maria seems to be perfectly happy to just let this be swept under the rug. You pick up the newspaper on your bedside desk and skim through it for any events towards last night, taking your time. You're already over an hour late for work, another won't make much change. Maria? Yes sir? While I do admire your time-keeping and dedication to your work, it does reflect strongly upon you, I do believe we would both prefer it if you weren't here whilst I get changed. Maria pauses at the window. A few moments later. That's a good idea. You watch her as she leaves, paying attention to that small blush she can't hide. She pauses at the door before she leaves. Sir. You nod respectively as the door clicks behind shut behind her. You thought she'd forgotten.

------

You arrive at the New World Orchard building soon after and stop at the entrance, ignoring the glares from others as they move around you. Your eyes on the other hand, are locked on those...ruffians. What the blazes are they doing here? Are they looking for you? It would be a large coincidence if it was anything else. Damn...Is this meeting worth it? Dollar signs ring off in the back of your head. Damn. you say under your breath before brightening up. They're leaving, you don't know where, but in a building as huge as this it's unlikely they'll be on the same floor as yours. You sigh with relief as you get in the elevator. Admittedly, you're still not happy they're in the same building as you, but you'll live.

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“One day you wake up and realize the world can be conquered.”

Like some of the others, Louie felt out of place inside the luxurious, grand building. He became lost in thought as memories from his former life flooded his mind. The man observed the business men walking around in their business worlds living their business lives. Jealousy gnawed at him. He used to work in a place like this in Spring District, granted the building wasn't quite as nice. Still, to have a life like the people here one minute and taken away in another wasn't fair. The once sculptor cruelly wished the same thing would happen to the men and women occupying the building, they wouldn't think so lowly of him or any other soul who had fallen on hard luck. As quickly as his envy came was it replaced by regret for wishing misfortune on someone else. Some of them must have families, it was also unfair to assume they all regarded him and his companions as worthless.

Torn between emotions and unamused at his never-ceasing ability to let go of the past, he emitted a gruff sigh and turned to comment on the sculpture resting upon the fountain to the nearest family member. That person was Jack. Louie looked at him for a moment, trying to figure out which one it was, sometimes he could tell them apart. In his peripheral he saw Henry motion for them to follow suit, to which he soon joined their leader, Chester, and the young man he assumed to be Justin on the stairs.

{Harold Millions}

_Spring Distinct_ Thoughts

Harold was quiet all morning the events of last night still played around in his head, the dead girl, the strange man, and that push. His inner reporter was active now, a story was unfolding and secrets were afoot . Now if he could recall right, the dead girl, Sight, named her killer, the mask wearing scream wannabe, Aries. The only thing that came to him was the Ram, the zodiac sign and its constellation. It makes sense since he also had a friend he called cancer fitting the pattern. And that push, it certainly wasn't a well timed gust of wind that knocked him and the rest of the family to the ground.

" Strange days are ahead." Harold commented silently as he look up at the New World Orchard building. The building itself reminded Harold of some hotels in new york, where he explored the city in his younger days. The warm weather and the luxurious building were starting to calm his nerves and quiet that inner reporter of his, not much. Much like everyone else, Harold was still dressed in the same outfit from before. A dark blue three piece suit, a white dress shirt, and a dark blue fedora to match.

When they finally met with Justin, Harold shook his head as he figured with the way the boy acted Henry certainly did not take a liking to him. Not a great way to start a job, Harold thought as he followed Henry up the stairs. Paranormal events and now this, hopefully it won't turn into a disaster, Harold silently prayed.

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"Fate smiles on the strange. So its a good thing, I'm the strangest of all." - William Livingstone, Cirque de la Nuit

As the Family silently ascended the stairwell, Henry looked about to observe the chic decor of the building. He had only ever been into one other place like this, a con job in Summer District, at the Lunasa. Henry felt uneasy at the memory, as it was his last con job before he was forced into early retirement. He had failed to make his mark on Victor Snell and it seemed almost a punishment to him from then on that he saw Snell's face more and more in the public eye as the years went on. The haunting memory of the Lunasa faded, however, as the group approached their ultimate destination. Second floor from the top of the building, Apartment 709. Justin beckoned them inward and the Family walked in, moving through a hallway into a large open room.

The floors were a fine black Royal Oak that reflected grandly on the pale-white lights of the city's obscured blanketing clouds which shone through several floor-to-ceiling windows. The windows at the factory were larger, but these were much cleaner and gave a perfect view into the city below. The furniture about the room was black and comfortable in appearance, offering a nice artistic contrast with the white walls which almost seemed a faded soft gray in the pale light of the clouds outside. In the middle of the room sat a man on the plush couch. "-about time, Justin. What took you so long?"

"Stopped and got a snack on the way down..." Justin muttered, his voice was much smoother than his rough face suggested. It was young and soft, clashing sharply with his viking appearance. "Found 'em." He gestured to the family.

"Indeed you did," the man on the couch spoke. He stood up and Henry saw that this man was one he would not have got along with well. Hopefully the job would involve little contact with him. "I'm Sasha Bernstein. Old 'friend' of Justin's here." He reached out his dainty hand to shake Henry's. This man was incredibly skinny, wearing leather, and a feather jacket that seemed to increase his bulk. On his face were a large pair of sunglasses and his dirty blond hair was cut into a very feminine style, to the point that at first glance it was hard for Henry to determine if Sasha were a man or a woman.

"Let's get down to brass tacks." Sasha began, "I'm hiring you all because I think there's something in my apartment. Justin thinks it might be a demon and while I'm not the type to give way to superstition easily, I've had my share of encounters with things outside of this world. But none of them have been so bold as to go straight to my apartment. So, I'm here to ask that you all watch the apartment for the next few nights. The only qualification is that you can't leave the apartment during the night. I've got plenty of food and all of your expenditures will be covered. If you manage to stay here a full week with no supernatural activity, you'll be paid handsomely and be free to go. If something weird does happen, the job can stop there provided you offer me proof. Now then, Justin, can you be a dear and show these gentlemen around the apartment? I have a meeting I must attend to. Let's set the payment at $700 per person for the week. All right? All right. Good. Ta-ta!" Sasha spoke incredibly fast and gave Henry no time to respond before he left the apartment altogether, leaving the air silent once again among the Family.

"...Demons?" Henry asked aloud. "You're having us hunting.... demons?"

"Should just be one...." Justin spoke softly, as if he were shy and ashamed that they had found out about the full context of the job.

Henry gave a heavy sigh, he didn't know why people were gullible enough to just hire people on the pretense that there may be "demons" in an apartment, but Henry shoved that thought aside as he remembered the payment of $700 dollars per person.

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These are a few of my favorite things

Rodger, though enjoying the unfamiliar sights and sounds of the district, found himself completely flabbergasted by he and the family's current circumstance. He broke his recent silence to address Justin. "Kid..." he began, "I appreciate you looking out for us, after all, this is more then a steal for us." He paused, and cleared his through, eyes darting around the apartment. "But... is there actually something to this demon thing? Surely your just stringing a yarn here, right?!" Rodger laughed nervously, adjusting his tie.

Chester looked from Rodger to Justin, listening with interest. His initial reaction to the situation had already been vocalized by Henry. For most of his life, Chester had tried to convince people of intangible, inexplicable forces, of magic while performing tricks and of luck while dealing cards. In both cases he had been lying, and never thought he was doing otherwise. He knew how both really happened, quick fingers and some misdirection. Thus, he was skeptical of any other purveyor of the supernatural.

The events of the previous night appeared briefly in his memory, but he waved them away. They were hard to explain, but they couldn't be related to the current job. Teenagers running around in gangs, killing each other and using silly names. Stupid, disturbing, yes, but nothing to do with demons. Chester waited for Justin's explanation.

{Harold Million}

_Apartment 709_

Harold lowered his fedora to his hide eyes. 700 hundred dollars per week to watch an apartment, doesn't sound so bad, at least that part of the agreement. " He has experience with paranormal events? " Harold questioned in disbelief. He then, glanced over to Justin and asked another question " Who is Sasha Bernstein, exactly? What does he do for a living? Is he or yourself on any medication?" Before waiting for an answer, Harold walked passed the family and started to examine the very room that they were in. " We're not in that Scare Tactics with Tracy Morgan, are we ? Or some elaborate prank?" He went on to say.

" No offensive friend, but this sounds too good and too, I hate to say crazy." Harold said as he was in agreement with Rodger, who also found this a little absurd. However, Harold being the investigator that he is continued to probe for answers from Justin. " Why do you think it was a demon? What did you see? What sort of proof is acceptable? Would you accept a picture if we were to find anything?" He asked Justin and then went on to say " When did this all start to happen, these paranormal events?" It was question after question with Harold, but he couldn't help it was fishy. He needed more information and hoped that Henry would too.

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"Fate smiles on the strange. So its a good thing, I'm the strangest of all." - William Livingstone, Cirque de la Nuit

"Yes... demons." Justin repeated to Harold's inquiry. He breathed calmly to try and respond to the bombardment of questions. "Sasha takes Valium for his anxiety, but nothing else. As for me.. even if I did need medication, it's not like I could afford it.. I don't have health insurance or anything like that." Justin glared at Harold for the question which he assumed a member of the Family would be sensitive enough to not delve into, poverty.

"We're not in Scare Tactics or any kind of prank. Sasha is a bit of an eccentric, he's a fashion photographer by trade, and a large figure at Vogue's Samhain offices... as for how I know him.. we were acquaintances back in college. He was going across the country doing a 'disturbed chic' line of fashion. My girlfriend at the time was his model... we broke up shortly after he visited... but he contacted me recently about this job. He sounded as out there as ever. Take it from me, I don't like Sasha...I hate him in fact, but I can put that off if what he's saying is true.. I studied demonology in college and I've hunted paranormal activity throughout most of the east coast. This is my first major city haunting though.. as for if demon's exist... I believe they do... and from what I gather they come in cycles... we academics have been able to put together a list of what we know, and if we're right and there is a demon here.. it should appear tonight. As for what constitutes proof... if we corroborate what Sasha thinks is the actual demon, that'll be proof enough for him... as for the paranormal events in this apartment.." Justin looked downcast as he walked over to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water.

"I don't know... if this place has any... the dates don't match up to what I've studied... though I do get a chill in this place. This apartment.. at night it feels like you're being watched.. and occasionally strange things will happen. However, I guess it's not necessarily demons. Still, at 700 a week... that's not that bad.." Justin shrugged as he downed his water... He looked uneasily at the large curved sink faucet, lost in some thought. Upon closer inspection, it could be seen that Justin looked haggard, dark bags under his eyes indicative of even less sleep than Henry got. Henry was a seasoned insomniac by this point, but this boy had just recently been introduced to a place where he could get no sleep.

Henry took a long sigh and sat on the couch. "In all awnesty, kid.. I think yeh're full of shit about 'dis demon stuff. But 'ey, I ain't nevah complained 'bout good pay befoah. Why staht now? If it's fake, we ain't got shit ta worry 'bout. Long as we get owah money, I don't give a rat's ass."

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These are a few of my favorite things

Rodger, again, nervously adjusted his tie at Justin's remark. "You're... serious, aren't you?" Rodger stumbled slightly and rested against the nearest wall. "Kid, I've never had a reason to not believe you before. Now, more then ever, I really just want to think you are pulling the wool over your friend's eyes. But, that's not it is it? Heck, you even studied this stuff at school?" He laughed uncomfortably, and then continued. "Shoot, maybe I am old... demons and stuff never did come up in school... but if Sunday School has taught me anything, then I am sure there are some nasty surprises waiting for us..."