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[right] [b]Interactions:[/b] The Breaking & Entering Bengal[@Fernstone]
[code]South Side, The Circle, David Smith’s House [/code][/right][hr]

It was so odd. Paloma used to think one of the many, many, [i]manymanymany[/i] awful things about living in Cloverfield’s sprawl was the rudeness, impatience, and cold indifference of its denizens. Now, there was almost a kind of novel appeal, a nostalgic charm, when someone spoke to Paloma in a way that wasn’t doting or cloying polite. Almost. She still kind of hated it. She popped her gum and gave a little shrug as Vin turned to her with a look of annoyance. At least Paloma assumed it was a look of annoyance. Cats were hard to read. 

[color=00FA9A]“Oh, me? I’m just from the neighborhood,”[/color] said Paloma innocently lying as she gestured vaguely to somewhere over there. As if she were rich enough to live in the Circle. Owning a house? Pshaw! What was she, a millionaire? She could barely afford to live in an apartment by herself out in Jungleland, the locals name for the Westwood neighborhood that was so bad it made the rest of the South look like the North. It made her wonder what this David Smith did for a living? Nothing honest, judging by the kind of dangerous company that came to his door. 

Her eyelids fluttered rapidly and her face looked as if she were attempting to suppress a sneeze as, unbeknownst to her, Vin’s spell detected the Samaritan within her. It was a good thing that Paloma was still so unattuned to actual magic. The Samaritan was her little secret, one she was deeply worried about getting out; there were all kinds of horrible, awful people out there that would abuse such a thing.  She would’ve been pretty upset if she realized that Vin had sniffed it out, like, the nerve of some people. Just sticking their nose in business that wasn’t their own. So rude! [i]Who would dare do such a thing?[/i]

Anyway, before Paloma just wanted a word with David Smith. Now, with the way Vin was talking, she was just dying to know what Gideon’s men wanted with the guy. It had to be something totally scandalous if they were possibly going to whack him, not realizing that the danger Vin was referencing weren’t them but the thing inside of Mr. Smith’s house. 

[color=00Fa9a]“The boss doesn’t have to know anything. It could be our little secret,”[/color] said Paloma, biting her tongue to stop the urge of asking what they wanted with David Smith anyway.

She took a few more cautionary steps forward, stopping several arms lengths away as the tiger fixed her with a glare and holding up a handle signaling that she was no threat. With the thin line of guiding light from the Messiah Complex still threading around the weretiger’s tail, Paloma was confident that the Samaritan would protect her from anything that the thugs thought about throwing at her. She just didn’t want to deal with the fallout of what came after she was protected by Everyone’s Sweetheart. Plus, the Samaritan was persistent that Vin needed help with something. Finding an affordable tailor, perhaps, given how agitated they seemed to become when the limited wardrobe was brought up. 

A funny little look crossed Paloma’s face as Vin told her not to scream or she'll regret it. She turned her head to look down the street and gave a theatrical inhale. Depending on how quick the cat was they might have a chance to react, but the aura would see to it that Paloma would be protected and able to scream. Only, the scream never came as a word that Vin said clamped a hand over Paloma’s mouth: [i]It[/i]. Her scream would alert [i]It[/i]. Not Mr. Smith. Not him. [i]It.[/i] Weretigers were a known entity with pictures and stat blocks that she had seen while thumbing through monster manuals. [i]Its[/i] were unknown, and unknowns could actually be dangerous. 

The playful light dimmed in Paloma’s eyes as she stared at Vin with narrowing pupils. Hear her scream? Surely, it would’ve already heard the door be kicked in. A part of her wanted to run, but she couldn’t let herself come to a dead end with her one and only lead. Pieces of what Vin had said earlier—[i]here to check up on you, it ain’t safe here, assumin’ he’s still alive[/i],— rotated and clicked into place. Maybe they weren’t just some thugs sent to hurt David Smith after all. Maybe it was quite the opposite.

[color=00fa9a]“What do you mean by it?”[/color] she asked, her squeak dropping to that of a mouse trapped in a corner between a bookshelf and a wall with a housecat fishing at it with its paws. No, if there was still a chance that Mr. Smith was okay then there wasn't any time for explanations. 

[color=00fa9a]"Nevermind. Mr. Smith needs help, right?”[/color] Paloma attempted to slip by Vin, who depending on their intention would easily be able to stop her from rushing ahead, and called out into the home, raising her voice, [color=00fa9a]“Mr. Smith!?"[/color]

Even if Vin hadn’t tried to stop her, Paloma would’ve halted anyway in the entrance hall as her voice expanded her aura out through the home with no new trails of light appearing, her eyes widening at the sound of something shuffling from the other room.