Boston was not always the friendliest of places, especially so late at night. The area around 1313 Faust Dr., however, seemed to be positively quaint. A quiet area of the city, technically outside the city limits in what little countryside one could find in the state of Massachusetts, the property sat on what had to be about ten acres of land. The gate leading to the driveway had been curiously left open, and so anybody had freedom to simply walk up the two hundred foot drive and approach the large estate house. By the looks of it the dwelling had been built not long after the original American colonies were founded, but it had since been renovated many times with modern systems. Among these included a state of the art security system, but that was down for the evening. Down, yes, for the same reason the front gate had been left wide open. Because the owner of the estate had been expecting visitors.

One by one they arrived, six special individuals who had been given their summons however it would reach them. A few received perfectly ordinary station letters in the mail. One had kept to himself, secreted away from public perception, only to find his invitation placed in his drink. Another received a vision in the newspaper, fleeting but burned into her mind. The youngest was hand delivered her invitation by forces ethereal. The last had a vision whilst expanding their mind through the art of poetry. Though the methods varied as much as the individuals themselves did, there were ultimately commonalities. Each one had an interest in events and creatures that most assumed didn't even exist. Each one possessed knowledge of eldritch lore, magics they could call upon at a whim. And of course, each one wound up on the same doorstep, ringing the same doorbell, and was greeted by the same butler.

A younger man dressed in a nice suit, with tan white skin, short curled black hair, and the serious look of someone who had died. Each of the six he greeted, and escorted to the parlor room. Two couches and two chairs surrounded a large oak table. The table itself had many faces professionally carved into it, each one giving the appearance of someone in utter anguish and despair. First to arrive was journalist, eager to take on a job and provide stories for her husband. Not long after came the would-be-mother adorned in black. The minutes ticked away and soon arrived the Scottish criminal. Rolling in behind him was the child, unaccompanied by any guardian. Slipping in behind the child was a man with many scars and sour disposition. Second to last was the woman of secrets, studious and unparalleled in her memory. After many minutes of waiting their final guest had arrived: the one tortured of identity, newest to this world of secrets and magic.

One by one they were escorted by the butler. One by one they sat down. One by one they had been offered drinks and refreshments. One by one they had been asked to patiently wait for the arrival of their generous host. And so the host did arrive, but only as the large grandfather clock struck the twelfth chime of midnight. She was an elegant woman of fair white skin and raven black hair, adorned in white. The lady took her seat, the larger of the two chairs, and addressed those in the room.

"Thank you for meeting with me at this dreadful hour. I appreciate your dedication. More invitations went out, many more, but you are all that have arrived. You have my respect for making the time to see me. My name is Lady Eve. Please, be comfortable in my home. You are honored guests." She spoke with an air of authority, but also one of graciousness. The cadence of her voice was smooth, not like silk, but of glass. As though something just beneath was threatening to break at any moment.

Well, this was way better than she expected. Devyn Haverly's car ticked and rumbled as she turned it off, making the familiar noises automobiles make. The engine of her brown four-seater car purred quietly, before fading into silence as she pulled her car keys from the ignition and placed them into an inner pocket of the light brown leather jacket she was wearing.

Perhaps she was expecting a dingy warehouse, or apartment, or some boring business building. But this? This was some kind of antique house, one from when America was founded. The genuine article. Even if this was a scam, the presentation alone was enough to make it worth it. She pulled out her smart phone and checked the adress one more time. Yep, this was the spot. While she had it out, she quickly snapped a photo of the old mansion.

Placing the phone into the back pocket of jeans, she stepped out, locked the car behind her, quickly glanced around and made her way up the cracking cobblestone pathway.

She did that funny knock that everyone knows when she reached the door, followed by jabbing her finger into the door bell. A moth got too close, so she waved it away before the door opened. A butler. A literal butler. Okay, this was too good.

"Ah, hello. I'm here about the invitation?" She said, turning her statement into a question at the last word. He nodded sagely and let her inside. She was escorted by a grim fellow into the dining room. Devyn brushed her blonde hair out of her eyes and looked in wonderment at the place around her, her mouth absent mindedly falling open. She traced the patterns on the ceiling with her eyes, before she almost ran into a wall and had to speed up to catch back up to her guide.

"Water, please." A glass of ice water was soon delivered to the table in front of her. "Thank you." She sipped the water and waited, crossing her legs. Keeping her phone hidden away, she fiddled with the items inside her purse. Checked her make up in her hand mirror (because apparently this was a formal occasion), and made sure her ponytail was nice and tight so her hair had as few flying strands as possible.

Over the course of the next half-hour, a cast of colorful characters trickled into the waiting room. She waved, nodded, and quietly smiled to everyone who came through, guessing they were to be her associates. She introduced herself as Devyn Haverly to the people who came in, shaking their hands if they would accept, trying to be polite. The little girl was strange, but Devyn assumed she must live at the house or something.

At the very dramatic stroke of midnight, the mysterious so-called 'Lady Eve' appeared. It was like she was at a dinner-theater, or something.

"Thanks for having us, Ms. Eve." Devyn very much wanted to ask some questions, but she figured that might be inappropriate, so she didn't.

A second after thinking this thought, Devyn spoke again. "Can I ask what this is all about?" She uncrossed her leg and leaned forward.

---

Erin followed the rather cute butler, finding herself in a room with a singular other who had arrived moments prior.

Sitting regally in one of the two armchairs, she waiting while inspecting her black nails idly.

This was all beneath her. This meeting, or whatever it was meant to be exactly, might turn interesting but the rather plain letter was... Uninspiring at best.

But then others started coming along with -

Erin gasped, jumping up and running over to the young child.

"My, oh my. Little One, what are you doing in such large clothes? All by yourself, too? Tsk tsk tsk, no no no no. This won't do, my little lovely. Not at all. Come, come sit with me, get yourself warmed up. As soon as this is over we are getting you some proper clothes and get you taken care of." she exclaimed, pulling the little girl onto her lap and brushing her hair gently. The lady who had been before her talked, asking asinine questions and making ridiculous comments.

"Don't you worry, young one, I shan't let a thing hurt you."

As they sat there, a few others came, though very few introduced themselves. One in particular, gauging everyone else, she burned daggers at she looked towards Erin.

Their host was.... Interesting, to say the least. An air of power, perhaps?

Though, really, she felt confident in saying everyone here held power except, perhaps, the butler.

With her little child here, however, things had just gotten much more dangerous. Nothing would harm the poor dear.

Carnation bust out of a suitcase and onto the pavement of the airport in Boston, quickly recovering onto her feet and proceeding to book it as quickly as she could to the nearest concealed area. After ducking around the boxes and tram nearby, Carnation stopped and spoke to herself as she looked around. "Hah... hah... sorry, whoever's clothes and pills those were back in Aus, but I have official business here in Boston right 'bout now. Just gotta... take a second to catch my breath and talk to Antonio." Raising her gloved hand up into the air in front of her, a small rift opened up to reveal the horned face of Antonio the Banker.

"Why didn't you take my offer and let me open a gateway between Sydney and here?" Antonio asked the girl. He didn't understand his client for the majority of the time, he just knew that she was a bit special. She wasn't dumb, quite the opposite, but she didn't exactly do everything easily.

"'Cause mate, if we did things easily, we'd forget how fun it is to be free!" Carnation snickered as she dug through her bag for her water bottle. She bought it at the airport in Sydney before the security told her she needed a passport... and a legal guardian. She had neither of those. "You still have that letter?"

"Indeed. 1313 Faust Drive. 11:30 pm." Antonio's voice was rough, but it still kept an air of formality about it as if he was still a businessman. It was really odd to hear, considering how he looked and acted, but that was besides the point. "It's a good amount of miles away."

"What's the name of this airport?" Carnation asked her banker, pulling the cell phone out of her bag as she talked.

"Logan International Airport."

"Time to call a cab. Let's hope whatever these blokes at Faust Drive want won't kill me, eh?" Dialing a number for a cab service, Carnation packed her bag again as she walked towards the nearest door heading into the actual airport.

---

Carnation stood in front of the house that was listed on her letter. The cab behind her rolled away as she stared the entrance down. Checking the phone she had, the time was 23:25. Five minutes before she had to step up and enter the house. She wasn't feeling too great about it to be honest, but, it was better to be in there and warm than out here and cold. It was like, what, four degrees Celsius? It felt like it, and her trench coat was on too!

With a hesitant breath, Carnation walked up to the door and gave it a knock. What followed was a handsome servant opening the door for her and offering to take her coat. She was reluctant, but Carnation gave up her coat and let the servant take it away, leaving her to walk into the main room alone. Already in there was a lady who worked for the local newspaper from the looks of things, a sleazy man in his own coat, and-

"My, oh my. Little One, what are you doing in such large clothes? All by yourself, too? Tsk tsk tsk, no no no no. This won't do, my little lovely. Not at all. Come, come sit with me, get yourself warmed up. As soon as this is over we are getting you some proper clothes and get you taken care of."

Carnation was lifted off the ground by the depressed woman and carried towards the armchair she was sitting in, a bit too surprised to really react, nor did she want to make a scene in front of the other people in the room. She kicked her feet in resistance, but her efforts were unsuccessful as the woman sat down on the couch and put Carnation down on her lap. For the first time since she had entered the house, she finally spoke. "Oi? What the hell are y-... o-okay." Carnation just sat there and let the strange woman run her hands through her hair. New clothes had been the selling point there, considering Carnation normally wore the clothes of the pedos she killed.

When the waiter came around, Carnation requested a small glass of juice to be delivered, which it was. Though, she didn't specify what the juice she wanted was, it came back as cranberry juice. Tart, but addictive. Dang, did Carnation miss that taste.

Soon after the hostess of the party showed up, Carnation payed close attention to her, her right hand flipping her butterfly knife as she sat there in the strange lady's lap. She had her own questions, but the reporter lady had asked the main one that she had wanted to know.

"Why am I not surprised? Couldn't have been a normal looking place could it?" Ross mumbled to himself as her arrived at the gate of 1313 Faust Dr. It was an impressive place to be sure, but a little over the top for Ross' tastes. He shook his head as he walked towards the front door. Bet there is a fucking butler too. Ross thought as he knocked on the door.

Ross couldn't help but laugh as he guessed it right. A butler actually opened the door and greeted him. It took Ross a moment to compose himself before following the butler into the mansion. Ross looked around examining as much of the place as he could, so far he wasn't sure what kind of person had summoned him here, but they had lots of money. Wonder how pretentious the owner of this place is? he thought as he walked into the parlor room.

Seemed he wasn't the only one who was called here, an interesting development. He gave a nod to the others, he didn't give out his name to anyone but did respond to greetings. He wasn't about to spill his name to people he's just met, especially because the one who got them all here was able to track down Ross and leave a note in his drink. And who know what kind of things these others they'd invited were capable of.

More people filed in, quickly forming a motley crew. The only ones to really catch his eye were the kid and Scarface. They had obviously seen some shit. Ross wasn't going to be able to let his guard down around this lot, they no doubt knew magic, but the real question was. How many of them had made pacts?

As the minutes dragged on Ross could feel himself getting impatient. Luckily the hostess finally showed herself, at midnight of coarse, there is no more edgy time then the stroke of midnight. Lady Eve was her name, looked like a princess. But Ross had knew there was a lot more to this woman then what she was displaying. She made him uneasy, that in itself was an achievement. But she might not be the real person running the show, there could be someone else pulling her strings, only time would tell. For now Ross just wanted to know why the heck they were here, it was a popular question he felt. Ross went to ask it but was beaten to it, so Ross sipped his scotch and awaited the answer to the million dollar question.

Elizabeth Solomon pulled up to 1313 Faust Dr at exactly 11:48 PM, in a sleek black taxi, upholstered with high grain pigmented leather. There was a dash cam, and another camera in the lights, which was currently focused on her. She was holding in her hand a version of the Aeneid in the original Latin, slightly dog-eared from being well read. Labor omnia vicit improbus et duris urgens in rebus egestas. She folded the edge of the page over and snapped the book shut, tucking it into a small satchel she was carrying, in which she rummaged for her purse. The satchel, as well, was leather, but it was a much richer, browner leather than that of the car. Lower grain, true, but aniline rather than pigmented, making it look much more natural. Pulling out a simple little thing, she extracted a crisp $50 bill, and when the car came to a stop, handed the taxi driver the money.

"Much appreciated miss. Let me just get your bag for you..." The driver clumsily clambered out of the car and went to unlock the boot, allowing for the occultist to open her door, swinging her legs out, and then standing up. It was a trick she had learned a long time ago- this way, if the car sped off or was moving, you didn't risk being caught off guard. Besides, it looked much sleeker. The road here was neat and tarmacked, although she could see that parts of it had been recently patched over. Seemed that they had an issue with potholes. Her heels clicked softly against the surface as she went around to the back of the car, where the cabbie was offering her bag. She packed so that everything could fit inside the overhead compartment, and as such, the little bag barely made its way to the top of her thighs.

It was tartan- brown and green. Not very appealing, especially since it was scuffed and made from canvas, but inside was contained everything that she needed. "You sure this is the place miss? Wouldn't want to drop you off at a stranger's place, ya know?" The driver turned to her, and she nodded.

"No no, I'm quite sure this is the place." The building matched up too well with what she could see in her mind. The neat, colonial-era building, with the deceptively modern upgrades. The security cameras, the no doubt electrified gate, that stood open, no doubt for her, and numerous other small details spoiling it for her. "My thanks. Keep the rest of the bill." The plastic of the rucksack's wheels rumbled up over the kerb, and she walked through onto the driveway. Knowing the distance could be useful, she thought idly to herself, pacing out her steps. By the time she had reached the ornate doors- the dark wood suggesting walnut, or perhaps a darker oak. Probably oak, if this had been kept to the original as close as possible, although mahogany was also a possibility. She hefted the knocker-brass, and let it fall against the door a few times. Clack, clack, clack.

The door swung open, and she was pleasantly surprised to be faced with a handsome, if grim-faced man. A professionally tailored suit, and the way he stood marked him out as a servant, most likely a footman or butler. Butler, if she had to guess. In silence, she was lead through neat little corridors to a sitting room, where she stifled her surprise. She was not the only one here. A number of other individuals also sat here. In fact, four others were here, a fifth walking in after her. Her eyes scanning each one methodically- picking out details with a keen eye.

A man with scars that practically screeched of the wyrd and bizarre. He was grim, angry. An interesting figure, but she wasn't quite sure what to make of him. A ponytailed, leather-jacketed blonde woman, with curious eyes. Too curious. She could be a threat, and she was marked as such. She would not have her secrets learned so easily. Touching a hand discreetly to her forehead, she examined her. Her ethereal vision lit up at her wedding ring. Interesting. Depriving that of her could be a legitimate strategy. She was also armed. It was very difficult for someone to truly 'concealed carry,' there were always bulges where they shouldn't be.

Another handsome gentleman, with an uncanny resemblance to the old Doctor. He had a look that made her a little uneasy. Aggressive. Predatory. A very different kind of dangerous when compared to the woman that she had just examined. He was built interestingly as well however- lots of muscle packed into his legs. Someone used to running. Running and with a predatory look... Ah, a criminal, of course. Well, she wasn't one to criticise life choices. Lord knows she had made some poor ones, that was for sure. His focus seemed to be his gloves. In good repair, but old. Cherished.

The woman in black, looking like she had come from a funeral. There was sadness to her, but also a haughtiness, a person who had blindly stared into themselves and found only perfectness. Ultimately, she would stumble from potential end to potential end, trying to find whatever it was she wanted. She initially dismissed her, but it was only her glimmerken that made her confused. She couldn't see her focus. Ah, perhaps, it was tucked away, like her book. That was the obvious solution, and it made her brief confusion seem silly.

The... The child. That disturbed her a little, she had to say. Someone so young, in the tattered clothes that she was wearing. Apart from the coat- it was a marvellous coat, practically bulging. Part of her half-expected the girl to turn to her and say something like 'you alright guv'na?' as if she was a Dickensian orphan. Still though... That child was dangerous. Very dangerous. She oozed it, she breathed it. She wanted to stay well clear of that child. Hell, she wanted to throw a crucifix at that child and scream about the power of Christ... A sentiment not helped by the gloves, glowing with magic and seemingly made from stitched together... She didn't want to know what that was made out of.

Taking a seat, and asking for a glass of milk, she idly looked at the carvings on the table. Wonderful. It seemed their esteemed host was rather interested in the occult- which, of course, was something she had already known, what with the minor detail of the image of this house being beamed directly to her skull, and Farsi rearranging itself, as well as the interest in so many people each seeped in magic. Said host would enter, dressed more like a southern belle than a northern lady. Lady Eve. She focused on the face. Drank it in. That was a face she would remember, she thought, wiping away her dairy moustache with her handkerchief. The questions, of course, flew fast. She would let them be answered first, and her name be answered last.

---

Molly tugged up her coat's collar as she left the taxi. The rear lights glared back, until it turned and vanished, abandoning her. For a long time, she simply stood, staring from the precipice of the property through clouded breaths. It stuck out as hugely different from the cityscape Molly had left behind with the airport mere hours ago; the house actually loomed, pocked with shadows and secrets. Beneath three layers, she shuddered.

From the pocket of her jeans she pulled her phone and sent a message to Sandy:


Before putting her phone away she snapped a photo of the house, the white flash temporarily blinding her. Whispered curses flew as she rubbed her eyes and their visible bags.

She trundled up the driveway, suitcase trailing behind. With each step closer she drew, the urge to turn and leave and never find out what this was all about swelled inside her chest, greater and greater. Yet she knew she could not. Not just because the flights would have been a total waste of money either.

Not seconds after the bell rang was it answered by a sombre looking man – the butler, as it transpired. She fixed her hair so it draped in front of her face and let him take her coat, revealing a mustard-yellow jumper beneath. It was knitted and loose-fitting, with holes in the sleeves that she poked her thumbs through. She refused the offer of a drink, despite being parched. Her luggage was left by the door.

When she was moved to the room with the others, it was as though a great weight was lifted from her chest. They were waiting just like her. And whilst it was an odd selection, they all seemed fairly normal, from the fleeting glance she gave each; there even seemed to be a mother and child. Mallaidh introduced herself to Devyn in turn, but was fairly monosyllabic in her further replies. A wavering smile held onto her face. She shuffled further into the room and stood by the wall, one arm crossed over her stomach to hold the opposing elbow. Green nails, the varnish chipped around the tips, drummed a frantic rhythm. Then she checked her phone, hiding her face behind it. 11:59pm.

Mallaidh regretted not conversing much, but she was exhausted. Not that there would have been much time to anyway; midnight tolled. At the twelfth chime their host appeared. Lady Eve was her name and her clothes were gorgeous. Whilst Devyn asked the question surely on everyone’s lips, Mallaidh tried to sneak a photo of their host. There was that bright flash again, followed by a moment of comprehension. Cheeks flushed full of blood, arms were pulled in tight and crossed, almost dropping her phone in the process, and eyes glued themselves to the floor. The world seemed to fall away, replaced by embarrassment and the thrumming of her racing heart.

Lady Eve gracefully smiled when Devyn made her inquiry. She gave a slight pause to answer, but only because the lady of the manor had taken a moment to sip on a tea provided by her butler. It was a black tea, served from a porcelain kettle into a fine china cup decorated with Egyptian symbols. Her poise was perfect, even including the famous "pinky out" gesture. Once she had cleared her mouth, Lady Eve placed the cup down onto a small saucer plate upon the table.

"Shrewd and to the point. I cannot say that I blame you, miss. While I desire further pleasantries, I understand that calling this meeting so late and with little prompt can be... Ominous. Nonetheless-" Lady Eve took a second to readjust her posture in the chair. "-You are all here for a very important purpose. I have little doubt that you've each determined a certain quality shared by you all, yes? Every person in this room right now has had a history with the peculiar. With that which goes unseen by the normal populace. Everyone here has some measure of experience with the occult."

The Lady gave a moment to gauge everyone's reaction, to look upon their faces in case anybody showed signs of surprise. It would have been concerning if any of them had. "To be perfectly frank, I do not know any of your names. Not your identity, your profession, and I even had little idea of how many would even be attending this meeting."

Now that she fully expected to get some measure of surprise from the crowd. Gingerly the woman removed a glove from her right hand, revealing the appendage in its full milky glory. Everyone could make out the tattoo of an ankh on the back of her hand. What's more Elizabeth's special sight suddenly flared up. That tattoo was a magical focus. Lady Eve began drawing a circle in the air with her exposed index finger, leaving behind a trail of blue light. Once the circle was complete, the circle became an image for all to see.

"I am a warlock, and this is the creature I have signed a pact with. I desired to have a team put together, but knew not where to even begin. Other than myself there was only one individual I ever knew that made any legitimate ground in researching such... Ethereal means. Thus this beast before you made an offer: he could spread the word and invite a number of others to my manor so that I could give you my proposal directly. I set a time and day, then waited for this very moment." With a wave of her hand, the image of the supernatural creature dissipated. She took another sip of tea, then continued. "There has been an increase of events in Boston which I believe to be supernatural in origin. Dangerous things, and some which may not be, but must still be... Looked into. As you can all see, I am quite well off, and so I offer my services as an employer. I fear what may be happening to my city. I now offer you all a reasonable salary: Ten thousand dollars a month, and full medical coverage beginning immediately. That is, so long as you agree to investigate these events."

She breathed a heavy sigh, placing her hand back into its glove. "If any of you are disinterested, I understand and you are free to leave right now. Otherwise... I believe it is in our best interests to perform introductions."

---

Carnation sat there for a second and took in the situation. Everyone in this room had affiliations with the supernatural, big whoop, but that salary and the benefits? Fuckin' legendary stuff, right there. Sure, Carnation would do just about anything for a house where she could sleep and not worry about any thugs trying to grab her in her sleep, but this was quite the offer extended to her. On top of that, she was getting paid a hefty amount of money for it. Her old parents told her how much money someone like her could make if she did what she was told and became a pharmacist, but... that was before they died. The healthcare was pretty good too, she guessed. Aus' has it free, so it's a whatever deal.

There was a bigger question on Carnation's mind right now, though. What name should the people here call her? Normally the answer would be 'Carnation Hendricks, ruler of all and slayer of wrongs', but that didn't really work well with her reputation in Aus'. She'd been labeled as a serial killer by the authorities, and in case this whole job goes awry, she really didn't want for anyone to be able to identify her. Maybe just introducing herself as Morgan? Her middle name wasn't known to the public, so that was a good idea. Maybe.

As Carnation tried to stand up to address the others in the room, she found herself held down by the woman who acted like a helicopter mother to the girl. Attempting again only proved futile as Carnation let out a groan, giving into the mother's possessive nature as she spoke to the group overall. "... I'm Morgan, I dunno this woman, and I'm totally fuckin' down with this gig, mates." Carnation's voice was higher, allowing for her to be heard throughout the silent room easily.

Turning her head towards Lady Eve, Carnation gave her first direct address to the hostess. "Apologies for not dressing for the occasion, Lady Eve, but this was the best outfit I could find on standby." Carn snickered after speaking. It truly was the best she could find, as everything else had a few stains on them.

---

Erin tsked lightly under her breath as Morgan started squirming momentarily, gently rubbing her hand between Morgan's shoulder blades, frowning deeply at the flash from a camera nearby.

"I am Erín, though perhaps you have heard of the Mother? Mhmm. You may have my service," she spoke up after the child in her lap, her voice snaking through the air like a professionally played harp. "Do not worry, baby girl, I will fix this clothes issue. You won't have any problems anymore, I'll make sure of that."

Erin was humming lightly as she thought on the offer. With money and resources.... She could research. She could find the one who could do what she needed. She could bring her daughter to life. It was a dream come true, and this task seemed hardly beyond trivial.

Her hand slipped to the vial around her neck beneath her clothes. Soon, my luv, soon. And you'll have a big sister waiting for you! Won't that be fantastic?

With a fluid movement she moved her hand to brush away some stray hair from her face.

"All I ask is that I have access to any occult information you have in regards to these cases. Perhaps we can expand through shared information."

Devyn was intrigued, to be sure. Her eyebrows raised in surprise at the offer and the mysterious ankh tattoo- a significant sum of cash and she'd get to directly investigate the paranormal. As interesting as the regular variety of danger was, she was always interested in discovering more about the world that existed in the shadow of her own. Reynold would have to be on board, he might even be disappointed, but this was a well paying job for something she was really interested in.

Some people were already on board, but she would like to know more. The little girl, Morgan, and her...mother (?) Erin wanted to join on. She knew Mallaidh's name (who had 'sneakily' taken a picture), but the fellow and the other woman who walked in hadn't introduced themselves yet. Still, there were clarifications to be had.

"Interesting offer, Ms. Eve. Is this an incognito operation, or are you willing to share certain details to the public? Are we going to be working with the police at all? Will the money be given to us via our bank accounts, or good old fashioned vanilla envelopes?" Devyn asked, raising an eyebrow and a corner of her mouth.

There was a humorous twist to the latter question, to disarm and downplay the implications of whatever answer their mysterious benefactor responded with. A legitimate businesswoman would have no issues depositing digitally- but someone wanting under the table dealings would go incognito by rewarding their employees with physical cash. Devyn didn't suspect this was an entirely criminal operation, but it would give her some context. The first question- well, Devyn was okay with investigating for fun and money, but being able to get a story out if it would be even better.

Ross was looking up at Eve when he noticed the flash of someone's camera, he looked back to find the culprit only to shake his head, Jesus. Some people. Ross sighed quietly and tuned back in. This is when Lady Eve wiped out a demon, Ross hid his surprise as well as a guilty dog. Coarse I've managed to get myself tied up with warlocks. Fuck I new it'd happen some day, but did it have to be today? Ross looked at the floor taking a moment to compose himself, at least he knew one of these people had made a pact, he wondered how many of the others had. He tried to convince himself this was a good thing, maybe this first encounter was a blessing, it sure beat having a warlock trying to kill him.

Ross sat there thinking over the possibility oh him just leaving, he was sure that getting involved in this would probably be bad, but hearing that people were in danger and he could help. That kept Ross glued to his chair, sure he didn't want to get involved with demons and shit, but he at least knew what he was dealing with. Then Eve spoke about the payment, and oh boy was that some juicy cash, Ross got to help people while also getting paid for it? Was a better version of the deal he had back home, help people get chased by cops for it. "So you're telling me I get paid to help people? Count me in." Ross knew he wasn't going to like where this deal was going to take him, but at least he knew it'd be different to what he was stuck with back home.

A few others had also agreed to help, the pipsqueak and the overbearing goth. He severely hoped some of the others took the deal as well, he didn't see himself getting along with these two. He then realised he'd forgot to give his name, did he give them the real one? Yeah why the fuck not, not like he's trying to hide anything. "The name's Ross by the way, pleasure to meet you all." Eck, it sucked being nice, Ross wasn't sure how long he'd be able to keep it up. Hopefully long enough to find someone he could drink with.

Kachirk. The shutter of a camera went off, and she blinked at the unexpected flash. Her head turned slowly, and she spotted a curiously genderless face peering out from behind ginger curtains. Perhaps not such a great threat... But it was twelve o clock, and she had no idea where this woman had come from. Jetlag, plain tiredness, even a little bit of inebriatedness would all explain a potential mistake such as this one. Judging would be the wrong thing to do.

Post that little incident came the introduction of the host, and she had already given her first thoughts on that. Or, at least, she thought she had given her first thoughts. Perhaps it was her a little tired and jetlagged, since apparently it seemed like she was not at the top of her game when it came to being able to hold her bloody mind from instantly jumping to conclusions. Calming herself internally, she let her fingers methodically drum against the side of her crystal glass, a rather odd thing for milk to come in, each fingerfall making a different toned ting sound. From high to low and back to high when she removed her fingers once more.

The action failed to truly reveal what was happening 'under the car bonnet,' such as it was. She was digesting the information at her own rate. One, as she had expected, everyone here had a connection with the occult. The focuses had confirmed that almost straight away, but it was good to hear it from someone else, to truly confirm it within her mind. Her mental file, in this case labelled purpose for summons was slowly being filled out, each empty page being jotted in with the words that the lovely Lady Eve happened to be saying. One, this appeared to have been the equivalent to clicking 'send to all,' on an email, if Eve was to be believed. Individually, none of them were known to their would-be-employer any more than they were to each other. That was... Excellent. She was glad to know that she had kept her information relatively private. The way she liked it.

What was curious was the fact that the tattoo was a magical focus. She had thought that one had to have a special connection to an item for it to be a focus, and specifically an item, but the ankh threw that idea into disarray. Deciding she would have to amend her ideas on magical focuses later, she instead dredged up on what the ankh could possibly stand for. Egyptian, obviously, and dating back all the way to the pharaohs. Quite common with people who just thought it cool, it bared some similarities to a crucifix... Although didn't have the baggage that what had once been a platform for execution carried.

An ankh was an ideograph hieroglyphic that represented the idea of 'life.' Extremely widespread use... And, if she wasn't incorrect, somewhat revived by the new age, 'hippy' sorts that her parents had grown up around in the 1960s. Whilst, obviously, ruling out any connection to the ancient Egyptian meaning would be foolish, she suspected that this particular ankh was more to do with periods of time after the birth of Christ.

The rest though... So tempting, and yet so suspicious. $120,000 a year, which translated roughly to... She had no idea. She had many fortes, but maths was, as unfortunate as that was, not one of them. It was a vast sum of money. Included medical care was... Well, what she was used to, but at least it was something she wouldn't have to concern herself with. She was a little surprised at the speed at which the rest of her fellow (potential) warlocks seemed to be falling over themselves to let each other know details about themselves, which meant that, most likely, they would also quite like to know hers. Very well, she supposed she would speak once everyone else had taken their own turn.

Morgan, as the girl claimed her name was, was up first, and wa-?

She was left slightly befuddled by the fact that the woman currently holding the girl was unknown to the girl, and yet she was also perfectly fine with that. Also apparently the 'gig,' and evidently she was Australian, for good measure. Something seemed wrong about the girl, she had to say, not to mention the 'mother' as well- Erin, her name was. Faint Germanic accent, and she brushed through her clothes to a magical gleam on a necklace around her throat. That would be the focus, then. Perfect, no issue there.

Then spoke the woman who she had marked as a threat, who, at least, earned her approval by being one of the few sensible peoples here and wanted to know more details, followed by the criminal almost being kindly and friendly. Terseness, however. It was hard to miss that, but more than that, Ross- as he had introduced himself, was apparently interested in helping other people.

Curiouser and curiouser.

"Well then. I shall throw some more questions into the ring." Extending her hand, she ticked off questions as she said them. "Are we to be expected to find accomadations ourselves, or will that be provided? Futhermore, are we to be able to obtain working visas, or will we be forced to perhaps act in a slightly... Extrajudicial manner?" She barely inclined her head as she thought about more questions, firing them off quickly. "Furthermore, I would quite think that knowing the exact danger we face, and the details about any... Missions we might go on to be quite useful, would it not?" She paused for a second, before quickly finishing. "My apologies, that must have seemed slightly rude of me."

---

Mallaidh looked up slowly. Some of the others were looking at her, but the act hadn’t provoked Lady Eve’s attention. Or rather, she didn't let anything register. Molly reigned her breathing back under control, her tired muscles wobbling as the adrenaline waned. Her forehead prickled. She shoved her phone deeper into her pocket and tried to forget about it.

She had to stifle a gasp at the conjured image. The visage was terrible. Was the thing that had appeared to her in the leaves of the same ilk as this… whatever? Suddenly, Molly felt very ill, as though the bottom of her stomach had fallen away. Perhaps it was a mistake to have come here? Just walk out of here, never look back. But Molly knew she’d regret that more. There were things she had been promised. She wanted them. It was worth the risk; any risk.

Whilst Molly’s new peers asked their questions, she wondered how much each of them knew about this supernatural stuff. When her eyes came to the scarred man, she quickly averted them elsewhere, and then felt a stab of guilt.

After the questions, she piped up. The burning one, the one she knew she couldn’t ask, was simply, “why me?”, since, by and large, she was unremarkable. She had only been made aware of this unseen world mere days ago. And, ultimately, she knew she was here because she had chosen to be.

Everyone else covered most of what she wanted to know, but there was still something left.

“Uh, miss- Lady Eve,” she began in hushed and gentle tones, "Hi, I'm Mallaidh," she moved her hand in the barest of waves.

“You’re mighty generous to be sure. But, uh, is this gonna be a long-term thing then?”

Lady Eve respectfully listened to each of the guests who introduced themselves, regardless of their own manners. From Carnation's cursing, to Erin's distracted attention, to Ross and Mallaidh's simple statements. However when it came to Devyn and Elizabeth, who went on asking more questions without introducing themselves to their host, the Lady crinkled her nose in annoyance, paid them full attention, then made a concerted effort to not only ignore them, but make sure they knew they were being ignored and why. Just as she was about to answer the others' questions, the man with the facial scars spoke up for the first time.

"The name is Alonzo. Just Alonzo," he said, crossing his legs as well as his arms. "You have my attention, but in the interest of fairness, I'll ditto the questions of these two ladies."

Lady Eve nodded in understanding. "Yes. Well, let's see. So many queries, where to start? Miss Erin, I believe you asked about the sharing of information? Why yes, that is the point of this endeavor. I will share with you the rumors, the evidence, the hearsay and the goings on that I am able to locate, in the fullest that I can provide. In turn, you will investigate these matters to the best of your ability so that we might draw a conclusion. I believe that also answers one of your questions as well, Mr. Alonzo?" Lady Eve took a moment to sip her cup, then continued. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Mallaidh. To be perfectly frank, I cannot state with absolute certainty how long exactly this arrangement will last. My hope is that together we can see it through to the end and uncover all the mysteries plaguing my city of home, however long it might take. But of course, you are all free to leave at any time you wish. The nature of this work is certain to be dangerous."

She then brought her eyes back to the man now known as Alonzo. "Let's see if I can remember everything. Oh dear. Well you are all welcome to make this as public as you like, but the public tends to take quite poorly to the events of the unseen, so I don't recommend it. I'm well established as a 'loonie eccentric,' if I were to quote the papers, so my name being attached to this endeavor means nothing. The police I cannot imagine understanding the situation. Chances are more than likely that we shall need to indulge in activities that are, shall we say, less than judicial? As for accommodations, I have prepared a few rooms in my manor which you are free to utilize at no cost. Sadly I had no idea how many guests to expect so I am a couple rooms short, unless anybody would like a bunk mate. Terribly sorry."

She paused for a moment, clearly thinking. "Have I missed anything?"

"How will we be paid," Alonzo suggested, counting off on his fingers. "And will any of us who happen to be foreigners be working illegally, or be able to get VISAs?"

"Ah yes," Eve acknowledged with a finger wave and a smile. "As for your income, I am able and willing to provide it in any manner you see fit. The same goes for your status as an alien. If you might prefer to be official, taxes and all, I have setup a company name for government auditing purposes. Should you prefer to remain anonymous, to perform duties under the table, I am quite flexible to such arrangements. Now, with all these questions answered..."

The mistress of the house finished sipping her cup and waved the butler to come gather her china set and clear the table. Any drinks that were left unattended were likewise taken away. "We still have two introductions to go, then we shall move on." The Lady gave Devyn and Elizabeth a moment to introduce themselves properly this time, then immediately addressed the group as a whole. "Now, you shall recall in my previous statements that I had claimed to only ever know of one other individual that had my level of devotion to occult studies. As you all seem interested in continuing, there is one test I require you complete. So that I might gain some insight into your personalities, approaches, and general dynamic as a group, I request that you find the plant in the room." She gave a wide, yet somehow gentle smile. "One of you did not get my summons, because one of you is a close personal friend of mine. A bit of paranoia to spice up the event, no? You have until the clock strikes one to determine who does not belong. During this time I shall be monitoring you from the corner of the room, and should not be approached as though I were invisible."

Lady Eve stood tall from her chair and, just as she had declared, moved to the far corner of the room. "Please, begin your deliberations now if you would."

---

Erin listened to the answered questions, holding her hands together around the poor girl in her lap in a loose clasp. This was all fine and dandy and her answer wasn't changing, but that wasn't question she meant when she asked.

"I'm sorry, but I appear to have been misunderstood. I was asking about sharing knowledge about the others. Those we make Pacts with, if you will. I have... Needs. And only a very specific type can satisfy my desires, and my search has been long and maddening."

Everything else seemed straightforward to Erin. They needed to find something that didn't belong in the city. A simple enough job, though it had plenty of opportunities to turn into something dangerous, truly questionable. Nothing to worry about.

But she had included a mole? A weed? Now... Why would she do that?

Erin tsked, unfolding her hands, and pulled out the Vial. Sliding the poor dear off her lap and taking her hand in Erin's free hand, Erin stood up.

A deep breath, a simple phrase in a language long forgotten, and she cleared her mind but for one objective:

Find the plant, this long time friend of their hostess.

Her Vial lifted, pointing at the man named Alonzo, for a solid ten seconds before she let her mind return to normal thoughts.

"Alonzo, dear, it appears you're the immediate answer. Perhaps you hold vital information and already know the answer, or perhaps you are the answer. My divination spell has named you the next step in answering the question." Erin announced to the room at large, staring at the man deadpanned.

---

Ah yes, legal documents allowing her to stay in the US without legal persecution. That's something Carnation needed more than anything else right now. Of course, she'd need to find a better name than the one she had in Aus' to get around the states without any sort of prosecution from people hearing of the 'missing child' that was 'found' in Boston. She could stick with using Carnation as her first name and just go by Morgan as her last, but she didn't need to think of all this nonsense right now. What mattered was the challenge that Lady Eve had put the group up to.

The girl turned slightly pink as she stood beside this Erin girl, staring at the rest of the crowd. Erin had taken the center stage and indirectly brought Carnation up there with her. She was kind of afraid of being in the spotlight, but she'd have to accommodate for it when she inevitably took over the world, so this was some practice. It wasn't good practice, but it was some most definitely.

That's when Erin's vial of... w-what was that? It wasn't like the ketchup she saw in stores, it was more thin than that, but it had chunks floating in it as well. What the hell was in that damn vial? Carnation backed behind Erin and hugged her as she watched from behind her, clearly more afraid of the contents of the vial than she was of the magic it could use. Just in case, Carnation slid on her skin glove as she looked to Alonzo for continuing the situation.

Devyn's cheeks stung with indignity at Lady Eve's childish behavior. Yeah, okay, whatever. Just ignore me. Yoou invite me to your house at midnight and get annoyed when I ask questions? Hmm? You haven't even told us your real name, "Lady Eve". I introduced myself to everyone else, didn't I? You invited me, sent me a mysterious letter to my house address and you don't even know my God damned name? Of course she does. She's just playing some kind of weird 18th century aristocratic power game because apparently this is the type of person I'll have to work with.

Devyn's internal tirade displayed on her face in the form of a brief raising of an eyebrow and the vanishing of her slight smile.

Eventually, Lady Eve thought it appropriate to stop giving her the cold shoulder.

"Well, Lady Eve, as everyone else already knows, my name is Devyn Haverly. Pleasure to meet you." The smile returned in the form of a smirk and when Lady Eve looked away Devyn tried to make eye contact with the other woman who decided to ask questions first. She raised both of her eyebrows quickly, in rapid succession, as if to say, "Look at this bigshot" in regards to Lady Eve. Devyn then noted her overuse of eyebrow related expression and cooled off a little bit.

Then the noblewoman left the mere commoners to talk amongst themselves as she played yet another power game, standing creepily in the corner, asking them to ignore her like a gothic camp counseler.

Of course, Devyn was still very much interested in the offer, so she went along with their hostess's game anyway. The woman named Erin who had apparently taken a strange affection to Morgan, who "didn't know her", immediately jumped to Alonzo for some reason.

"Well, okay, it's not me." Devyn said bluntly, still put off by Lady Eve. She didn't think it was Elizabeth because of Lady Eve's apparent offense at the both of tem, or the kid, but it might be Erin. Erin was weird, just like Lady Eve, but the whole Morgan thing was throwing her off. Alonzo asked reasonable questions, and hinted at himself not having a passport. Lady Eve then informed him of the information he wanted to know. He asked a lot of questions, reasonable ones, and seemed a stranger to Lady Eve. Mallaidh was way too awkward and unsure of herself to me the mole. Either that, or she was a phenominal actress and Devyn was totally fine with being duped by someone so talented. That left Ross, but Devyn caught a glimpse of the total surprise when he saw Lady Eve's demon. Again, either he was surprised, or a phenomical actor.

So, Devyn concluded in her mind, that left only one person who had the biggest chance of being the mole. Herself. She was there first, so the others would have an easier time believing her dialogue was scripted. She asked some questions that were not specific to herself, like some kind of expository plant. She thought she hid her annoyance at Lady Eve's actions pretty well, so they could think that was scripted too, or some kind of double bluff. Not to mention that she accidentally just said it wasn't her, even though that's exactly what the mole would say.

Hmm, hmm, hmm.

Devyn decided to come in low and slow.

"So, Mallaidh," Devyn said quietly, turning to face her as the others talked in an attempt to have a side conversation. "You okay over there? Little nervous?" Devyn's question was friendly enough, though one skilled at reading people might see in her eyes that although Devyn was genuinely attempting to be cordial and start small talk, it was also calculated.

"I'm a little nervous myself," Devyn lied with a nervous chuckle. "This whole thing feels like a dinner-theater."

---

That was all pretty heavy. Mallaidh licked her lips and blinked, long and hard. Her body pulsed with frantic energy as her mind lagged behind, weighed down by sleepless nights.

A new light shone onto each of her peers, and she found herself trying to recall every interaction she had observed since falling down this rabbit hole. A furrowed brow dug deep grooves under her fringe. It was all too hazy, and she’d been mostly averting her gaze, not wanting attention to be given or received. She bit the tip of her tongue, and slowly shook her head, disappointed in her own oversight.

"So, Mallaidh. You okay over there? Little nervous?"

"I'm a little nervous myself. This whole thing feels like a dinner-theater."

“Wah-?” Mallaidh jumped as she was pulled from her musing. She put a hand to her chest.

“Oh, uhm,” she then mirrored Devyn’s chuckle, but with genuine emotion, “Aye, is it that obvious?”

Mallaidh shuffled closer to Devyn, and, when she was near next-to her, spoke sidelong and so quietly it was as though she was afraid of being heard, “This is all very new.”

Molly watched the lady that reminded her of a china doll. She had targeted Alonzo for questioning first, which made Mallaidh tilt her head. Whilst waiting for a response from the man, she whispered to Devyn, “It’s not you, is it?”

Oh how petulant. She frowned a little. Like a scorned girlfriend or a young child not getting their way. The cold shoulder. She folded her arms and looked around, the glass of milk now thoroughly empty. The scarred man introduced himself as Alonzo. Curious and curiouser, Italian, perhaps? Or at the very least, potentially Italian-American. Then the details. Information to be widely shared. An unknown period of time spent, a risky proposition if one was spending several hundred thousand each year on employment, and out of one's own pockets nonetheless. The good Lady Eve was short on accommodation within her own home... The region was not too expensive to rent, so she supposed she could strike out on her own.

Clearly Eve had not paid as much attention to the questions as Elizabeth had however, although thankfully Alonzo was there to fill details in. First, she misunderstood her question regarding working visas- she had been almost certain from the start that this would be less than entirely legal, but now it was confirmed. The good lady had a company under which to work with if everything needed to be above board... No, she would take the envelope over the official ways.

Her glass was cleared up, and then she would introduce herself, she supposed. "Elizabeth. Please, just call me Elizabeth. Nothing else." She gave the barest incline of her head towards Alonzo for being likewise intelligent enough to not bandy about full names in the crowd of warlocks and other supernatural-wielding people, and instead let the final woman introduce herself to the assorted folks.

Then came the 'reveal,' so to speak. The idea that there was one that did not belong, one that was already a known student of the occult to their host. Her eyes played over the crowd, taking their faces in once more. The young Australian, on the lap of the older woman. No, certainly not her. She was too... Wild, too untamed, and besides, she was painfully, obviously Australian. Children had the incredible ability to change their accents almost on a whim if their culture changed, and so that ruled her straight out of the equation. What made it even more damning was the fact that she had nails rough, ragged and dirtied, and her clothes were still filthy. She was not a rich woman's ally. Not to mention the fact that she was tanned underneath that jacket of hers, which meant that she spent enough time in the sun without wearing it to have a tan in the first place- something which she doubted would happen in this clime.

The Scottish criminal was another no, she could tel that immediately. Not for his roughness around the edges- she would have no doubt that Lady Eve was not the typical rich woman who would choose to exclude herself from associating with those kinds of people, especially with studies into the occult. No, it was because he was, simply speaking, uncomfortable. Despite his actions in trying to immerse himself with people, he was displeased with the wealth, with the fanciness, the butler scooping up his drink, which he was still clearly unused to, she could tell thanks to the way he flinched, and the-

Her sight flinched as the vial of- Oh dear. It seemed the Germanic woman was almost as bad as the young woman she had taken under her wing. The slightly yellowish plasma at the top of the vial, the blend between yellow and red... That was blood. But more than that, it was blood that had... She placed a hand to her mouth and tried not to vomit. Succeeded in not vomiting. She very much hoped the vial itself was sterile, because her skin was already crawling just at the thought.

Her eyes moved from the vial to the man this Erin claimed was the outlier. At first, this seemed incorrect, but the more she looked, the more she saw, as was always the case. He was off. He had introduced himself differently from the rest of the folks, seemed very much at home in this fine house, and the fineries that came with it. Furthermore, the suit he was wearing was tailored well, and tailored specifically to him. It did not hang long, or short. It wasn't tight around his chest, nor overly long at the hem. Despite the way he was positioned, the shoulder was not pinching him, which indicated it had had no small amount of money spent on it.

Of course, she couldn't say that it wasn't the... Disturbingly strange Erin. She fitted right in with the Gothic sensibilities of the area and their host... No, no, it was not her. Where Lady Eve was light, white and had a symbol meaning life, indelibly etched into her very skin, Erin was wearing more black than anyone had any right to be wearing. Then there was the vial of... Yes, well. Erin was an outlier, but very much not of the kind that would associate herself with Lady Eve, at least not as a natural course of action.

Her potential foe? No, not her either. She was subtly displeased with the Lady Eve- her face had changed ever so slightly. A reasonable poker facade, since it wasn't obvious without a closer look, but the faint curl of her lips had vanished, and her eyebrows had raised up too. She looked freshly departed from a plane, even if she was also American, so she could put a mental strikethrough next to Devyn's name, the woman barraging her with a practical dance with her eyebrows. Indeed. Eve was being quite curious. She barely inclined her head once more in agreement, but kept her lips straight- neutral, apart from a quick lick to make sure they didn't dry out so fast.

Devyn then redirected her attention to Mallaidh. A fellow countryman, since that name was unmistakably Gaelic, but one that.. Hrm. She frowned a little. Initially she had dismissed them out of hand, but as she analysed her more, there was a sort of... Unusual acceptance to her. She was hiding something. Was she hiding association with the host? Samantha's eyes narrowed, and then the other woman's blurted question confirmed it. No, it was not her. Still, she knew there was something underneath the veneer of that woman. She would have to investigate.

That, of course, left her mind looking quite obvious.

• Lady Eve. Host, evidently not the plant.
• Carnation. Too many factors to list as to why she wasn't the plant.
• Erin. In sensibilities, too unlike the Lady to have casually integrated herself with Eve. Needed to answer questions.
• Mallaidh. Again, a variety of factors that ruled her out. Also needed to answer questions.
• Devyn. Displeased and displeased with the host. Unlikely to be the plant.
• Ross. Too uncomfortable with the situation to be used to the richness and with the other magic users.
• Alonzo. The only one that seemed out of place among the rest.

Clearing her throat, she unfolded her arms, only to fold her hands right afterwards. "Alonzo, I also believe that you seem to be standing out in this crowd." She offered not a blink his way.