Lisa and Alain have just come from their meeting with Mister Howe. Lisa however doesn't seem to be interested in waiting for Alain to take her anywhere much less the Red Dragon Inn or the Marketplace. Even before Howe formally dismisses them, Lisa's heading out the door, happy to get as far away from Howe and D"Mourir as she can.

Alain snatches the papers off the desk, oozing confidence once more, pointing at Howe as he makes for the door. Duping a demon does wonders for one's confidence. "Sunday it is, Mister Howe." He keeps his pace at a walk, brisk and arrogant, not hurrying to catch up with Lisa....not until he's out of range of the building's surveillance. He jogs several steps, attempting to catch up.

"Ms. Jefferies."

"Mr. D"Mourir," Lisa replies without turning to look at him. She keeps her head forward and her feet moving. The staccato snap of her heels echoes eerily off the cobblestone and warehouses, rhythmic and yet the sound holds unspoken tension. "No need to worry about me, sir. I can find my own way around." Her voice is soft, dulcet, melodic yet icy cold.

Lisa quickens her pace hoping the annoying Detective leaves her alone.

"Look, I....hey!" he says as he falls behind again. He takes a look around, sees they're clear, and speaks again.

"You want out?" There's weight to those words. He has a fair idea Mr. Howe isn't so keen on just 'letting go' of his employees.

Lisa's steps falter and nearly stop. She seems to be mulling over his question, but then as he watches her back stiffens and her shoulder's square. She picks up her stride again.

"You can't fool me, Mr. D"Mourir. I know all about DCH. I know exactly the kind of people who work for them. Can't you tell another damned soul when you see one" Or have you sunk too far into your own depravities"!"

Lisa doesn't believe a thing Alain is saying to her. She has no intentions of stopping. She continues her progress south. This is Lisa's first time in Rhy"Din and she's just arrived. Unbeknownst to her, she's going in the wrong direction for just about every place in Rhy"Din. Her current path will lead her right into IronHelm Flats, no where near the Marketplace or safety. Ignorance is bliss.

It doesn't take too long for Alain to realize where they're headed. He doesn't realize the significance of IronHelm Flats - not yet - but he knows it's deep within the Murder Capital of Rhy"Din. "Lisa! Hey - you really don't want to go this way!"

He looks over his shoulder and sees a man leaning against the corner of a building, appearing to talk into his coat while looking at them. A 'spotter,' and he doesn't look like a Mako - which means these guys are probably more serious. "Fuck," he hisses to himself, and jogs after her down the narrow street - once the two of them stop looking at each other, they'll realize the way is blocked by three men in long, tattered coats. Behind them, two more are following, the spotter Alain just saw, and another he failed to see who spied on them a block further back.

These guys are good at what they do. "You know not everything's so crystal f*cking clear, Ms. Jefferies, not everything's what it....seems..." He trails off, finally seeing them, and slows down, putting an arm out to stop her. He looks over his shoulder, then forward again. Lisa comes to an abrupt stop as Alain's arm is suddenly blocking her way. However she barely avoids bumping into him, treating him as if he might be contagious. Her head snaps his direction and she's just about to say something when she realizes he's looking behind them. As if in slow motion, she turns to see what has captured the Detective's attention. A light gasp as fear spikes inside of her.

Lisa knows a thug when she sees one and there are a lot more than one of them.

She looks back at Alain, blue eyes wide. "Ok" now what?"

Lisa grew up in New York City; she's no novice when it comes to situations like these. Normally she would have headed to the nearest heavy populated place, where thugs like these would shy away from. But without any area knowledge to speak of and carrying only a purse, she is ill equipped. She is forced to rely on a man she already distrusts and detests!

"Unh!"

The bleeding thug closing in on her looks up to see his friend clutching his stomach, falling to his knees - and looks at Alain a moment too late. The knife sails through the air and sticks right into his throat. Little trick he learned from Cassie, he'll have to thank her for it later. The man lets out a strangled cry, clawing at the knife as he sinks to his knees in turn. His eyes roll once, twice as he loses a disgusting amount of blood....He sees the blurry shape of the detective before him, who scowls and gives him a single shove to make him fall over.

He's dead before he lands.

Alain's gotten another cut or two since she turned her back on him, and he's shivering a little. He's silent a long moment, and then holds out his left hand, as his right hand's shaking too much. "My coat, and my gun....then let's get you to the inn, Miss Jefferies."

Lisa is staring at the dead man at her feet. She isn't quite sure how to assimilate everything that is happening. She looks up at Alain when he reaches out and asks for his coat and gun. She sees how bad off he is and seems to snap out of that odd adrenalin horror daze. She immediately moves to him and begins examining his wounds.

"My husband used to be a photojournalist. He spent a lot of time traveling in very dangerous places. I used to travel with him, you see, and have learned how to treat these types of wounds. You're losing too much blood; we have to get you tended to. Is there anywhere nearby we might go' You know, where it would be safe?"

Lisa doesn't offer him back his jacket yet, but she does place the gun into his weakened hand. A hint of a bashful smile to Alain then she's tearing at his shirt. "This will have to do. Sorry about your shirt, Mr. D"Mourir. And, ah' Thanks for that," a slight nod towards the dead thug.

"Just two more of many to come, unless they kill me first," he says, indicating the dead man and his dying companion. He holsters the gun, and his eyes grow a shade brighter, his blood flow slowing a bit. He holds his arm out to have the wound tied off. "This one's bleeding the most....and I told you before....call me Alain."

Once the wound's tied off, he nods his head up the street. "My office, SPI, is about four or five blocks that way. I've got medical supplies there."

"Alright, Alain it is," Lisa says as she finishes tending to the worst of his wounds. "You lead" I follow." She gives him a warm smile that one that lights up her face and radiates in her eyes.

Lisa seems to have recovered herself quite nicely. She uses a small piece of his shirt to dab at the blood coming from the cut on her head. "Why did you give me your gun, Mr., I'm sorry, Alain?" She seems genuinely curious and confused.

"It's a bit complicated," he says, grinning faintly as he makes his way up the street. He does his best not to limp, and hides his wounds decently under his coat. His eyes flicker briefly to her hands, but he keeps it discrete - he's curious if her husband has changed jobs, retired, divorced her, or....died.

"If I start firing shots in this neighborhood, it'll attract probably the wrong attention - and given our employment, even if it was the Watch who showed up, that might not be so great for us, either. I realized things might still get hairy for you....and figured, regardless of what happened to me, you might have a chance threatening your way out of there with the pistol."

He fumbles around in his pocket for a moment, finds a cigarette, and lights it. "How'd someone like you end up working for someone like Howe, anyway?"

There are no rings on any of Lisa's fingers, especially one that would denote the she's married. In fact, her fingers are slender and perfect, if she ever wore a ring it was long ago. She shakes her head and shrugs rather lightly.

"The same way everyone else does. DCH gave me what I wanted and I paid the price." She nips at her lip her body suddenly full of tension, and then she seems to throw it off intentionally. She straightens and offers Alain a sad, haunted smile. "Sometimes we do things we think, no, we know are right, they are just bad things. How about you, how did you come to work for DCH?"

Lisa asks to be polite, but she thinks she already knows the answer; the same as hers no doubt. The same as all those DCH has gotten their sordid hooks into. Although Lisa doesn't trust Alain in the least, she won't abandon him until he's cleaned up and she's sure he's not hurt worse than he's letting on. Nevertheless, she has no intentions of confiding in him. What she saw this afternoon at DCH's warehouse is still raw and fresh. Alain's intensity against that unknown woman, Belial, scares her.

Lisa peeks up at the handsome if a touch ragged Detective's face. Her initial instincts about him had been wrong, yet why is it that she still feels a kinship with this man' He's already revealed to her what a real monster he is; he's no better than Howe really. Yet she feels judgmental and unkind, jumping to her assessment based on his conversation with Mister Howe, when his actions have spoken otherwise. It is all too confusing and she doesn't really want to rationalize about it right now. She brushes the thoughts aside and waits to hear what he has to say.

"If you tell anyone what I'm about to tell you now..." He looks over at her. "...Then I'll die, and you'll be beyond my aid. You swear not to tell a soul?"

He knows to be careful with this information, beyond careful, but she needs to know he can get her out of this. That Howe is not his ally. And there's something....familiar about her beautiful melancholy, something trustworthy.

Alain's piqued Lisa's curiosity; he seems to be two different men. Around Howe he comes across angry, cold, evil and menacing. But then he does noble things like give her his gun and protect her. And now, he says something dark and mysterious. Lisa frowns and shakes her head.

"You can't. You can't tell me anything Alain." She looks away from him suddenly ashamed. Her voice chokes on her next few words. "You can't trust me!"

"I can," he says with a nod. His eyes are....eerily bright now, and his blood is now very clearly not spilling as quickly as it ought to be. As for his scars, there are in fact a great deal - he's been stabbed, shot, narrowly grazed, and nailed with shrapnel many times. He sits on the edge of his desk, leaning as necessary to give her easier access. Moments ago he was losing it....but he seems to have it back now, somewhat. He's not going anywhere in a hurry, but he's not passing out.

"Two thugs dead in the West End, the Watch will chalk it up to an accident - don't ask why..." He rubs at his eyes and his head. "In the bottom of the kit, there should be a....brown glass bottle with elvish script on it. Open it and hand it to me, and don't take a whiff of it - smells bloody awful..." He grins to himself, just a little.

Lisa notices that Alain is doing better; she thinks its odd how quickly he seems to be recovering but refrains from commenting. For all she knows it may be a part of his contract with DCH and she's seen stranger things from others she's known who have worked for them. She does feel a sense of relief however, since he's not likely to pass out on her any longer.

Lisa tosses him a perplexed look but digs out the requested vile. She opens it and passes it over to him. Their fingers brush and she looks quickly away as a blush stains her cheeks. She busies herself with cleaning up the mess she'd made tending to his various wounds.

"So if you're doing better, I guess I should go. If you would just direct me towards the inn or marketplace, I'll get out of your hair." She offers as she gathers what?s left of his shirt and moves to toss it in the garbage. Lisa does her best to avoid looking at him and her expression is calm but unreadable. She's very good at that when she's a mind to be.

"...I'm not out of the woods yet, Lisa - and if you want to get out of the West End alive at this hour, you're going to need a guide." He stares after her....then tilts the bottle back and starts chugging. Apparently it's really nasty, as he coughs and retches, dropping the bottle to shatter on the floor. He puts his hands on his thighs, leaning forward, his cuts slowly becoming scars.

"Holy shit, that stuff's vile." He wipes his mouth with the back of his arm, and shakes his head a few times to clear his mind.

"...Elvish medicine." He coughs again. "Always hated it."

Lisa comes to a stop watching him somewhat astonished. She has seen a lot of things but never a potion that did that and then had that kind of effect. It leaves her dumbfounded. She steps over to him, avoiding the glass and other mess to inspect a wound she'd left uncovered. It was a small cut and now it is little less than a raised red scar.

"Oh, my"! Elvish medicine" You can't be serious?" She says as she looks Alain in the eyes. Maybe trying to gauge if he is teasing her or not.

He pokes one of the other bandages, takes a peek, and sees it's not completely healed. He grimaces. "Elves are pretty outstanding in their own right, but their medicine's not perfect." Then he's looking right at her....and frowning.

"Just how new to this city are you, anyway?"

Lisa moves away from him, seeking out the appropriate things needed to clean up the latest mess made. She thinks he likes being messy and wonders who cleans up after him when she's not around. They had just met and his place looked pretty well kept up. She glances back at Alain and shrugs.

"They brought me today. We came through this portal like device and the next thing you know, no more New York." She forces a laugh, trying to keep things as light as she can. But the reality is she has no idea where she is or anything about the place. "I've never been to Rhy"Din before."

She unearths a bucket and some towels that look like they could be used as cleaning clothes. She sits the bucket in the sink and turns on the tap, letting it fill slowly with water. "You have anything I can use to sweep the glass up with?"

Obviously she doesn't like talking about herself.

Recovering somewhat from his toothy display, Lisa nods to Alain's question about shooting. "Yes, my father taught me when I was a teen. He always felt that even women should have an understanding of the weapons that are kept inside their house." She smiles reminiscently. "My father was quite a man. I think he would have liked you?"

Now, why did she say that"! Lisa blushes and busies herself in sweeping up the glass, keeping her direct attentions off of the man.

He sets it on the desk. "It's sleek and it'll fit nicely in your purse, and I don't care much for .22's - keep it." He nods towards it....and then begins to chuckle, shaking his head.

"There's been no vampire I've known who's been drawn to virgins. A womanizing vampire, just like any other womanizer, is more likely to think virgins a pain....but I'm not into the feeding thing. I don't need it to survive, and in spite of what people around town might say about vampire bites, I don't find it at all erotic."

He watches her sweep, realizing now that it's no trick of the light - he's witnessed her blushing several times so far. He kind of pities her for it, but he can't help but let a smile creep onto his lips. "What did your father do?"

"Well, he was a politician and a lawyer. He's the reason I attended law school." Lisa bends and sweeps up the last of the glass. She easily sidesteps past Alain, still avoiding looking directly at him, on her way to the garbage bin. She returns the broom and dustpan to the closet and goes to grab the bucket. "Thank you for the gun. After tonight, I will feel better having it."

She carries the bucket to the spot where Alain had retched earlier and kneels to wipe it up. "So some people" they do like being bitten like that' And vampires don't eat virgins" Interesting." She laughs and it brightens her face. "I thought all of that was just fairytales, stories to scare children. Well, learn something new, right?"

But Lisa is being very cautious not to look at Alain. "Maybe you could take me to the inn soon. I would love a bath and maybe some dinner?"

He stretches carefully, and cringes when he stretches his left arm. He sighs at the scar there, shakes his head faintly, and then sits up off the desk. "Hey, make sure you don't look - " He sees she's looking away anyway, and amends, "Yeah, keep not looking a minute." He digs out a pair of jeans and changes quickly, and then transfers his wallet and keys from his old pair of pants. He looks at the bloodstains on them....sighs, and pitches them in the trash as well. Why does he keep a change of clothes in his office" Well, after all the craziness he's been through - why wouldn't he"

"The food at the inn's not bad. I'd offer to buy you dinner after the hell I've put you through tonight, but taking what you want from the inn's kitchen isn't frowned upon." He finally moves to clean up what little is left of the mess he made, and smiles at her. "Ready when you are."

Lisa did her best to avoid looking, but she caught his reflection in the pane of window glass and with a stab of guilt she watched. As soon as he has his pants on and is picking up his things, Lisa drops the rag into the bucket and takes it back into the kitchen. She dumps out the water; rinses both rag and bucket then dries her hands. She turns and offers a shy smile to Alain as she takes up the gun he's given her. "Thank you again, Mister D"Mourir. You've been" surprising."

Lisa covers the odd comment by going to get her purse which she'd left near the door. She slips the gun inside and practices opening and grabbing it a few times before tucking the bag under her arm. She is careful in her placement so should she need to reach the gun quickly she can. Turning she nods, "I'm ready, Mr. D"Mourir. I hope this isn't putting you out, are you sure you are up to this" Perhaps there is a cab service I could call" Or another hotel nearby that I could use for the night?"

Lisa doesn't like the idea of being a bother to anyone, especially someone like Alain. She would prefer to impress him with how capable she is instead. Alain reminds her of her husband, he too was a man of action and more likely to admire her courage than mollify her insecurities. She ducks her head and rubs at tired eyes forcing the comparison of Alain and her husband from her mind.

"Oh, but I have nothing to wear!" The thought strikes out of the blue at this late an hour. Tomorrow Mister Howe will expect her in a new and more flattering wardrobe. Lisa hates to disappoint but she'll have to shop after her morning meeting with the man. "I'm so tried, must have been the mode of travel." Again she attempts to make light as she waits for him to join her at the door.

He looks at her dress and frowns....then removes the speed-loads from his coat pockets and offers it to her. "I know some people at the inn who might be pretty generous if they're around - until then, wear this, and people won't see the blood. Cabs..." He considers. "It's a bit more complicated than that, but Rhy"Din's set back technologically, in some ways. Not a long walk, though."

He switches out his shoulder holster for a hip holster - since he's not wearing a coat, he might as well cut down on his draw time. Once that's done, he walks out with her. "Anyway, yeah - I'm sure someone'll loan you a t-shirt and jeans, and you can invest in a wardrobe tomorrow."

So Rhy"Din doesn't have a cab service, a hospital, an ambulance or a police force of any kind of quality standard. Well, she's been worse places. Of course in those places she could still manage a ride back to civilization if the need arose. Lisa reassures herself that she will manage, she always has and she's not letting a backwater town get her down.

Had Alain said tee-shirt and jeans"! Lisa blinks at him wondering why he would think she would willingly dress like a man. "Ah' I can make this presentable enough for tomorrow." She says as she gestures at her dress. "It will not take too much, some water and a little elbow grease as my mother would have said. Thank you, but no thanks on the men's clothing. I think that might upset Mister Howe worse than?" Lisa pauses and swallows thickly as tears rise in blue eyes. She quickly shakes her head trying to chase them away, trying to hide them from him.

"I think I am just very tired. Just a room, that's all I really need."

"...What did he do to you?" he asks quietly, lingering by the doorway. While he looks at her, a fresh cigarette is lit.

Lisa spins and stares at him. She isn't sure which "he" Alain is asking about. The safest bet is Howe. She gives a non-committal shrug and looks away from him. Somehow when she looks at him she wants to tell him everything and that simply wouldn't be wise. She inhales deeply while gazing anywhere other than Alain.

"It's a really long story. But Mister Howe basically came to my rescue once. Only there was a choice, me or my husband. I didn't want make that choice, you see, so' I paid for both our passage with my soul." She speaks softly, the words low and quiet, and then she smiles sadly. "Had I know then what I know now" I would have picked him and stayed behind. But, like my mother always said to me; hindsight is twenty/twenty." She turns and looks at Alain. "Now that you know the details of my wretched past, can we go?"

It is painfully obvious that she doesn't want to talk about this anymore and as far as she's concerned, the topic is closed.

He breathes a smoky sigh into the room, fingers rubbing at the back of his neck - at last he nods, gesturing to the door. "Ladies first." He follows her out.