"Who'd have thought' Night eater entrepreneur Dorian. Actually...I can see it. You should stick with it. And tea would be wonderful." Glancing around his kitchen Wednesday began quickly cataloged every potential weapon and location in the room in her mind. "You seem, a lot happier this way. Aren't you worried some other night eater might come hunting you down here?" Small talk, feign concern. Keep him busy. Kitra better be getting in position. One thing was certain for her. Although ready to, she really didn't want to have to come to blows with Dorian. Physically he could crush her like a pancake. "Also, your roommate sounds like a bitch. Just sayin'."

-

He let out a lyrical chuckle, nodding slightly. "Who knew coming from me, hm' Though they weren't expecting me when I walked through the office doors." His eyes ticked to the ceiling as if remembering the look on their faces seeing that pale metro looking man wearing 2 inch heels, leather and silk. "Ah, such a good day." He smirked, giving a nod to her request of tea while going about getting the kettle filled with water and on the stove. His eyes ticked to Wednesday, offering a mild shrug. "It's better than Cold Harbor, you can walk the streets freely without thinking someone's going to pounce you at every corner." Even though the skittish Nighteater still jumped at any loud sound. He let out a sigh at the mention of another Nighteater. "On the off chance that another Nighteater found me, I doubt they'd care much. There a lot more yummy things on the menu here than me." He scoffed lightly, moving to a cabinet and rummaging around for a box of tea. "And I'm not exactly much when it comes to the menu or a threat." At least he could admit he was a wimp, and shit at fighting.

-

Of course Kitra was getting into position. She had been waiting for this day for a long time. She was dressed simply, in tight but sensible jeans, loose enough to offer maneuverability but not too lose to get caught on anything as she eased through the window and dropped soundlessly to the floor. Arms lowered her to the floor easily, the toned muscle of her arms growing tense as her weight shifted to cause the least amount of sound possible. She was wearing, ironically....A Wednesday Kendall shirt from one of the girl's shows. The manager had given it to her for free, okay' Body Guards got some perks, like free merchandise. And Kitra might abuse the fact a little bit. She had a small backpack slung over her shoulder, and she crouched in the office, making as little sound as possible while she unzipped the bag slowly to pull out a doctor's mask, easing it over her mouth and ears.

-

"People are a lot more lax around here. Earlier somebody apologized to me. Apologized! Needless to say, it stumped me. Slack jawed and everything." The continuation of small talk was necessary, but the inaction and passivity was making her anxious. Too many possibilities, too much risk of Dorian sensing danger. Timing is essential after all. One thing rang true about everyone from Cold Harbor. Paranoia. And always to a high caliber. Wednesday began chewing on her bottom lip. One of her subtle tells, whether anyone figures it out or not. Hell, she didn't even know she did it. "So you pretty much live alone in this big ass mansion. And you aren't throwing big ass parties" In a place where everyone isn't out to kill you. Tsk tsk, where's your sense of adventure Dorian?" -

He gave her a wide expression look, wide eyes and his jaw went slack. "I know, right"! I nearly lost it the first time someone apologized to me. Nearly still my bloody heart and I had to double take to make sure I heard them correctly." Whether that was due to spending too much time in Cold Harbor or Zver himself, that was to be determined. He didn't catch on to the danger, unfortunately his intuition came to play when it came to people, not situations. He was a damn good tracker, but the visit from Wednesday had rattled him shocked so while he normally would've picked up on someone else's scent in the house, for now, he was too focused on Wednesday. Fear and excitement of seeing an old friend was a strange combination. He scoffed at her, giving her one hell of a sassy expression as his hip cocked outward. "Are you bloody kidding me" Of course I've thrown parties. They weren't very big..." he tapped at his bottom lip with his fingers in separate thrumming of each tip. "...Friends are still hard to come by." He pouted. He knew he was clingy, knew he annoyed people. But he still didn't understand the need for personal space. Except for maybe someone with a flesh eating virus....that was acceptable.

-

With her mouth now covered, she pulled out a small bottle of chloroform that was currently wrapped in cloth. Much like Wednesday's use of covering her tools, Kitra didn't want the sound of a clanking bottle in the bag to alert the Nighteater. She'd learned enough through Wednesday and Cold Harbor itself about those brutish fucking vampires and wimp or not, she didn't want to deal with Dorian's strength either. She made quick work of unwrapping the bottle, lining out her tools in front of her with precise and quiet movements. With those set aside, she pulled out the Peacemaker she'd stolen from Kokabiel. The fabled gun that could kill just about anything. Those dark brown hues nearly twinkled at the sight as a twisted grin spread across her face. She had been waiting well over a decade for this day, and dammit if that fucker wasn't going down tonight. The Peacemaker was set back in the bag, not risking it falling out of her jeans and alerting Dorian. That could be grabbed later. For now, she went to work dousing the rag the bottle was previously wrapped in with chloroform now that her mouth and nose was covered. Wouldn't do shit of good for her to get knocked out in the process. -

"Well, there's a thing about friendship ya know. The rule is, you don't take it personally. Typically they come and go. unless there's something keeping them stuck together. But I suppose people like you and me know all too well about that. Still..." Purposely looking around like a tourist, Wednesday held an expression imitating awe. Flattery was never a bad employ, as long as you know where the sweet spot is. "Your decorative sense never ceases to amaze me. Neat, clean, and colorfully arranged. But you missed a spot." Pointing with her left index toward the powder Dorian were previously fighting with. "Have you tried a wet rag" Water is usually good at cleaning up powder and ground up substances." Pulling up the sleeve on her hoodie to check the watch on her wrist while she began tapping her foot almost impatiently.

-

There was a nod when it came to the friends part of her speech. "Unfortunately, we know how that is." He gave her another apologetic look, a slight tick of a frown there. There was some guilt that he had left her too, but he hoped she understood. If there's a chance to get out, you take it. He didn't know how long Zver's scent would've lasted in that place, and when he caught wind of it, there was no wasting time on following it. He ran his fingers through his messy, spiky hair and gave a look around with a wide grin and a look of clear pride. He almost looked bashful for a moment as he waved his hand at as if to say oh, stop it you. But the twinkle in his eye said the opposite. "You're such a flatterer." He full on giggled, then drew up short when it came to the mentioning the mess that he had struggled so hard to clean up with no avail. His cheeks puffed out as he exhaled hard. "Blood thing just wouldn't-..." He stopped, blinking as he stared at Wednesday for a moment before the heel of his palm came right for his forehead. "Water! Why the bloody hell didn't I think of that"!" He shook his head, then pointed at her. "You're a bloody genius." He was still waiting for the water to boil on the stove, so he moved along to wet a dish cloth at the sink.

- It wasn't long before that cloth was doused in chloroform, enough to probably knock out an elephant. She didn't know how much it would take to knock out a Nighteater, but a rag covered in chloroform' Hopefully it doesn't kill the fucker. But did she really care if it did" Not really. Now right now. The less casualties, the better. That's why they chose Dorian's place to begin with. Kitra knew of Zver's wife, his dog, knew he was sort of friends with a really big guy that was usually hope. It was too much risk for them to take. Dorian was associated with the bastard, but he was usually home alone. And a wimp. Wouldn't be hard to take him out of the equation. With that in mind, she stood to her feet and moved for the door, cracking it open and making as little noise as possible as light footsteps brought her out of the room and around the corner, remaining out of sight of the kitchen where she could still hear Wednesday and the Nighteater's voices.

It didn't take long for Wednesday to return, Backpack full of various florescent light fixtures, and a few power tools sticking out of it. And a can of paint in hand. Making her way right back into the living room she dropped the bag down. Crouching down to place the paint can down, whipping out the linens in her pocket she lay them out across the floor revealing various different tools and medical tools all lined up neatly. Taking her paint scrapper from the set to pry open the paint can. "We have a few hours to do this, so let's not get sloppy. You find his phone?" Speaking out to Kitra while raising the folded paper painters mask from her tools and settling it on her face. Right before sliding a pair of latex gloves on her hands. "You got ideas where to set up the lights" I need to get started on the traps soon."

-

There was some noise as she nearly shoved the Nighteater into the closet, crouching down to pat down his pockets for his phone. "Not on him." About the phone. She kicked his arm into his lap, taking a step back from the closet to close the door and lock it. Coming down from the hallway, she looked around. She didn't see it until she looked to one of the extensive living rooms, spotting it on a coffee table in front of a too-big television. "Dude lives the high life." She called out, noting all the shit in there with a snicker. Fancy things were never of interest to the Russian. Most of her places were shacks of efficiency apartments. She snatched the phone off the table and went back to the kitchen where Wednesday was preparing herself. "Here." She held out the phone to her, giving a look around and nodding. "Yup, I've got some places mapped out for them in another room."

-

"Now'd be a good time to get started. Tool's are in the bag." Taking the phone that were held out to her she thumbed through the contacts for a bit, looking for any name which might indicate Zver. Whether alias, pet name, or anything else which might fit him and his patterns. After awhile of thumbing through the phone she placed it on the counter before collecting her supplies, Room by room she began putting pentagrams and runes across the premises. Whenever Dorian did wake up, he sure as hell wasn't going to be pleased with all the defacing of his property, that was a certainty. Wednesday was through. More thorough than needed probably. But her habits wouldn't allow any space for error. And neither did the chemical concoction in the syringe stashed on her. Preparing for every occasion was definitely something she were notorious for after all.

-

Leaving her to the phone with a nod of her head. "On it, Chief." The last word said with an acidic tongue washed with sarcasm. She reached down as she passed, snatching the backpack filled with the equipment upon passing. As for the name in Dorian's phone, it was Moe Lester. Changed by Zver himself, after discovering the cutesy name that Dorian had put in there first. Not hard to figure out if you know him well enough. Kitra stalked into the living room, thanks to it being close enough to the front door and didn't have an over abundance of windows. It also had the least amount of wall fixtures and plenty of places for the light fixtures in the pack to go to. While looking around and making mental notes of where to put the fixtures, she unzipped the back in her hands and it only took a moment before she was setting off to get shit done.

-

After about an hour passing by, Wednesday finished up her work, bringing Kitra Tea that she'd continued to make after snuffing out Dorian while she worked. As Kitra finished up on her home product. Wednesday had set herself up on Dorian's couch. Sipping calmly at a cup of tea as she thumbed through the night eater's contact list. pausing on a specific name. Heh, Moe Lester....That's a ridiculous co-....Bingo. Pressing on the green phone emblem she brought the phone to her ear, motioning an index over her mouth in a 'shhhh' gesture. Patiently awaiting an answer.

-

Kitra was having an OCD moment, tweaking one of the lights because it didn't seem to want to work. She growled at it, brows furrowing in slight frustrating until she found the solution to the problem. She fixed it quickly, flicking down the sunglasses she had propped on her head as she turned on the blaring light to make sure it worked. She switched it off and shook her head, taking notice of Wednesday bringing in tea. She wrinkled her nose, tipping up the glasses and giving her the do I look like I'm british, bitch' expression. She didn't go for the cup, instead continuing to work in the background, giving her a curious look as she seemed to be calling someone on the Nighteater's phone. What, you gonna order take out' The fuck"

-

He was wandering aimlessly through the streets, feeling the need to get out of the house but having no particular direction of where he was going. He needed his alone time with his own head sometimes, alright' Walking with one hand tucked into his jeans pocket, the other scissored around a Carnival, he rolled his eyes slightly at the feel of his phone vibrating in his pocket. He plucked it out and growled when he saw who it was. "The fuck does Dorian want?" He wrinkled his nose, but didn't hit the ignore. He hated the fact he owned the damn Nighteater. "What?" He barked, but there was no irritation in his voice, more along the lines of a half-assed whine. He just really didn't want to get hugged by the fucker today.

-

"Long time no see. So nice to hear from you again.....Zver." Her words came out callous, hollow. From Kitra's vicinity it would be easy as hell to notice on her face. Nothingness. A cold glazed over look in Wednesday's eyes. as she spoke to the phone. The very sound of his voice, a response. It practically stopped her heart. Not in fear, but in anticipation. How she longed for the moment she'd see him face to face once more. A pity the intention had to be to put an end to it. "Miss me" I've sure as hell missed you. Your friends can attest to that. So cold, leaving little ol' me behind. I'm hurt....No doubt you know where I am right now. What say we put an end to this mhn" Before I get antsy." -

Kitra's brows furrowed the second Wednesday spoke again, having finished up the last part of her task. She looked over her shoulder, giving her a questioning look. The words, the look on her face, what the hell was going on' Long time no see" The more she went on to Zver, the further her brows furrowed until they had nearly disappeared into the shadow of her brow bone. She turned fully toward her partner in crime who had clearly kept the fact she knew the fucking asshole from her. Her arms slowly crossed over her chest and she did not look amused nor pleased with that fact. Frankly, with the pissed off expression on the dark-haired Russian, she wanted to deck Wednesday right in the nose. And should they get out of this alive, that's exactly what she planned to do.

-

His footfall slowed then stop at the sound of Wednesday's voice. It was a voice he hadn't heard nearing on to 20 years now. Or maybe it had been even longer" He couldn't remember anymore. "Wednesday..." he nearly purred, but it was not a pleasant tone in his voice. "Wicked Witch of the West, how you been?" The asshole had the audacity to act like they were just old friends catching up. His feet resumed their place, taking a moment to drag from his cigarette while he listened to her rant for a moment. "Not good it sounds. Bitter. That's too bad." There was a coy smirk on his face, the smoke billowing from his nostrils as he took a side street. He did know where to do, it wasn't hard to figure out. Dorian's phone, Dorian's house. "I wouldn't exactly say I've missed you. Unless you want me to lie.." He teased, taking another drag from his cigarette. The mention of a means to an end made the corner of his mouth twitch up. He didn't even bother answering, not really. He burped and hung up. Same old Zver.

He moved over to the chair opposing where she was seated on the couch, seeming rather relaxed for someone who was facing their high-school sweetheart that he had abandoned in Cold Harbor and was probably going to have to kill. Or so he assumed. He doubted they were just having a high school reunion in town. "No reason why we have to rush things," he lifted his half-finished cigarette, a coy smirk on his face. "I'm not done with my smoke yet." His head tilted as he stared at her, then looked down at himself. He gave her a dramatically feigned hurt expression, "You don't like the get-up"" He snickered, then shrugged and leaned back in the chair. Slumping down almost lazily. "It was an impulse thing." He gave her a oh come now expression. "I swear....it's like you don't even know me at all, Wednesday. Asking me questions you already know the answers to." He scoffed, bringing the cigarette back to his mouth for a deep drag. His gaze ticked up to the ceiling for a moment, as if he was trying to remember something. "And if I remember correctly..." he lifted one finger before shaking it at her. "I helped you take out the broad....2" 3 years" After taking out....Mommy Dearest." At the end, he tilted his head down and grinned at her before taking yet another drag, exhaling slowly as he watched her intently. He could relax as much as he wanted to, but he didn't trust the bitch for a second.

-

"Suit yourself. How about we start with the demon thing eh' Assuming I'm right, which generally I tend to be. How'd that come around" After all, that's how you wear someone else's face is it not' We both know that's not clamped on." Still fiddling with her scalpel, Wednesday began chewing on her bottom lip again. Her eyes glued to Zver. The anticipation nearly killing her at this point, but yet not enough to try and pick his brain before he dies. After all, Wednesday had already assumed he believed she was no match for him. Because she was confident. Believing fully that she's won. Which only means to her, that he believes the exact same thing. After all, they were always a lot more alike than either of them would ever accept. "I have to admit, you did pretty well covering your tracks. You practically left no trace. Of course Dorian was quite a bit more sloppy in making his way out. Much easier to tail."

-

The anticipation alone was nearly enough to kill the Russian in the office. Her pacing had ceased, and she was now leaned against the office desk, her face riddled with frustration as she puffed roughly from a cigarette that she just had to light up. If she couldn't just go out and kill him, nicotine was needed. Her eyes ticked to the door, muscles in her jaw twitching from the overuse of grinding of her teeth. We're here to kill him and the bitch just wants to catch up. I'm about ready to kill her too. -

He didn't look for the ashtray, so instead he just flicked his ashes behind him into the fireplace that was quiet. He ran his fingers through his periwinkle hair, giving a bit of a ruffle as he smirked. "You are right, but can you figure out which kind I am?" Wednesday was an arrogant little shit, had been for as long as he could remember. He wouldn't give her any hints or answers, either she figured it out or she didn't. Didn't bother him any if she did or didn't. He took another deep pull from the smoke, cheeks indenting as he did so, those haunting orbs stuck on her like glue. "For the record, I would be so much of a better Pavi any fucking day." A cackle left his throat, and he waggled his brows behind wisps of smoke that spiraled up toward the ceiling. He gave her a what can you do sort of shrug when she called him out on Dorian being his downfall. "We both know he wasn't meant for our kind of life, doll. Great tracker, not so good at covering his own. After all, half the part of doing wrong is being caught, right?" His palms were pointed to the ceiling and he gave her an arrogant grin of his own, brows lifted slightly.

-

"I dunno..." Tapping her chin while glancing up and to the left, with a soft smirk on her face. " A shitty one" I Mean, you did waltz into a building coated in devil traps just about everywhere you turn. Not so smooth. Assuming all the blah blah blah occultism shit isn't just a giant crock. I personally used to think so, but then I had Mary cooked alive, and yet people still die by her hand every day. So hey why not?" Not even a mere ten minutes in his company and Wednesday remembered just why she wanted to see Zver die. He cramped her style for one, but more importantly he was about the only damn thing out there she genuinely considered a threat. And in her book, that's a challenge that has to be eliminated. "Dorian is pitiful, there's no other way to describe the poor excuse for a night eater. Buutt, he has his uses. Have I ever mentioned to you that I have a sister" I would say you should meet her....But, you get the jist of it."

-

Now sitting in the chair at the desk, her cheeks puffed out as she had the most bored expression on her face. Her elbow was propped on the desk, her cheek pressed to the heel of one hand as she fiddled with something on Dorian's desk. Who knew planning the kill would be more fun than the kill itself. Bitch is taking too fucking long. Patience was not one of Kitra's strongest suits. Mostly because she was sitting in an office while Wednesday had all the fun.

-

He barked out a cackle, head tipping back against the back of the chair. "You're not wrong there. But you know me, I've never been one to conform to anyone's expectations other than my own." He looked back at her, fingertips of one hand pressed to his chest. "Sometimes even then I rebel." He grinned wide, finishing off the cigarette and pinching the filter between his middle finger and thumb, angling his wrist to flick the butt into the fireplace. Instead of slumping in the chair, he leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees, the tips of all of his fingers met the opposing tips and he grinned across the coffee table at her. "The devil traps just make this more exciting." He crinkled his nose at her, giving her a once over. "There's only one of us getting out of here alive. That much is a given." And he fully believed it would be him. "Now, you going to show me who's sitting in the office?" He jutted his thumb at the door, giving her an arrogant expression before rolling his eyes. "You figured out I'm a demon, but did you really think I wouldn't know there was another body here besides you and Dorian?" He stared at her blatantly, quirking his brow. "Souls don't lie, doll. As tainted as they may be, there's one unaccounted for." He shook his finger at her, tutting her. "Tricky tricky. I shouldn't be surprised."

-

"You don't know the half of it Zver. Odds are against you, and that clock you've been running on is almost out of batteries. But if you think I'm tricky now..." Wednesday rose to her feet with a grin. Raising the scalpel in hand to her lips, only to run her tongue along it. "It's almost agonizing you know" I'll admit I've been craving this moment for a long damn time. But you know....There's someone else who's been waiting almost as long. And that little person has just a little more of a valid reason than I do." Scoffing lightly, on the inside she was laughing her ass off. Just imagining his expression when that door opens. "Heh...Well, fuck it right' Who's behind door number one Hmm' Have any ideas?"

-

His brows lifted, shrugging and coming off completely as nonchalant about the ordeal. Whether he didn't give a fuck or he was being arrogant, it was hard to tell at this point. But when things seemed to take a different direction, he was more than happy to cut the song and dance short. He rubbed his chin, crinkling his nose. His arrogance came out to play then, as Wednesday tended to bring it out of him. "Batteries....right. Remind me to pick some up on the way home....waaaait a minute." He lifted one finger as if it dawned on him, then grinned at her, clearly implying it wasn't going to be her coming out of this. When she tried to describe who was behind door number one, he gave her a really now" expression that was laced with curiosity and almost amusement. He waved his hand to the doorway, mouth turning downward in a have at it sort of expression. His face twisted for a moment in feigned disappointment. "It's not a Prius is it"....Please don't tell me it's a Prius.." -

And that was her cue, when she heard Wednesday starting the speech about her, a grin finally broke free from her somber expression and she pulled herself out of the chair. Gun at her side and clamped in her hand, she slipped out of the door. She didn't bother being sneaky about it, there was no point to it. She moved into the room, and at the sight of him and what he'd done to her sister....She was almost sick to her stomach. It was like a punch to the gut, the face that she once knew looked nothing like she did before. It was a complete transformation, but maybe that was a good thing. Made it easier to put a bullet between his eyes wearing her face....Her gaze narrowed on him, jaw muscles twitching beneath the skin and her fingers shifted on the gun. She was itching to pull the trigger but the timing wasn't right yet. "Remember me, asshole?"

-

He blinked, one brow raising as he stared blatantly at the one he'd once thrown through the mirror....."Well, you're not a Prius..." he muttered.

It was the whistling of the steaming tea kettle that woke him. He let out a whining groan and brought his hands to his head. He felt groggy, fuzzy and light headed. He opened his eyes slowly and his vision was blurred. "What the bloody hell is that sound..." He slurred, shaking his head in vain attempts to rid himself of the feel of the chemical that had knocked him the fuck out. He slowly pushed himself to his feet from his position on the couch, stumbling a bit but caught himself on the couch. The scream of the kettle was rattling his ears and his brain, "Oh will you shut up!" He snapped at the kettle, as if it would actually listen. He stumbled a bit but managed to get himself over to the kitchen and then the stove. He grabbed the handle of the kettle and yelped, pulling his hand back and shaking it out. "How fucking long has this blasted thing been going?" He questioned, his sight still blurry as he peered at the kettle. He used a dish towel to grab the handle and set it aside on another eye of the stove, the screaming turning to whining before it calmed down. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and tried to blink more of the blurriness away. His nose twitched then crinkled, "What is that bloody smell?" For him, it was rancid, like used motor oil and....dead things. He had no clue what had happened, but he followed the scent to the living room. He bumped and stumbled against the walls from one side to the other as his legs felt like jello from the chloroform. He narrowed his eyes at something on the floor and approached. "What the hell is that?" His sight was still fucked as he bent down and squinted until he could clear his sight enough to see....The dead eyes of Zver staring back at him. He jolted back, falling on his ass as a shaky hand came to his mouth before a scream that put women in horror movies to shame.

He sat there for a moment, letting his brain register what was going on. He remembered....Wednesday. He groaned, bringing his palm to his temple, rubbing it and trying to get himself to remember. C'mon, Dorian. You can do this. Wednesday she....she visited...I made her tea, the tea kettle...Flour. There was spilled flour, she was helping me clean it up....Then... He blinked, remembering someone that came up behind him then it was lights out for the Nighteater. He looked back at Zver and shuttered at the sight. He knew there was bad blood between Wednesday and Zver but this....this was grotesque and horrendous. His chest cavity was cut open and it looked like his damn heart was missing. He pressed the back of his hand to his mouth and tried not to vomit. What disturbed him the most was the eyes...He crawled forward and let out a shuttering sob as he used two fingers to close Zver's eyes. Zver had seemed invincible to him, even when the man was just a human and roaming around Cold Harbor. He knew he'd died at some point, but that didn't stop him any. That's when it dawned on him and he covered his mouth, sadness overwhelming him. Tara... Yeah, the poor fucker still thought her name was Tara. Names didn't matter though, she was his human and he cared about her as one of his closest friends. He needed to tell her something had happened, he had to. He glanced around and moved as if to stand up, feeling something off in his pocket and reached in there. His phone was in there. He pulled it out and saw the text left by Wednesday and he deleted it immediately. He closed his eyes and let out another sob, the emotional bastard trying to keep it together long enough to dial Keirra with shaking fingers, the device moving to his ear as he waited for her to pick up.

-

Tara had been messing around the apartment, mostly cooing softly to the owl, but also feeding Zim a big meal so that she wouldn't want to eat the owl. It was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her, and she'd fallen in love with her little Bean. Her phone rang, and she groaned audibly. "If that's Craig, I'm kicking him in the nuts..." she hissed, and then moved the towel over the little cage to let the creature sleep. She dove onto the bed where the phone laid, and she lifted it up. Dorian' A frown fell upon her features. They didn't talk enough, and it was mostly her fault. She'd promised to be his roommate, then all but moved out on his ass when her and Kitra spent more time together. She pulled the phone to her ear and didn't bother with any simple greeting. "Hey sexy thaaang!" she chimed. "If you're calling to talk me into going out tonight, don't even bother. I'm so down! Dancing" Parties" Dance parties"!"

-

No, it wasn't Craig. It was a downtrodden little Nighteater that was on the verge of losing his damn mind. His eyes shifted over to where Zver laid and he shuttered, moving to leave the room before he fell deeper down the rabbit hole. When she picked up, he opened his mouth to speak and immediately winced at her happy little greeting. His voice wavered and he had to clear his throat a few times just to speak. "I'm afraid it's....I wish I was calling you for a dance party, lovely..." His fingers swiped at his eyes, and he sniffled a bit, trying like hell to keep it together on the phone. "Something's happened, my pet...Something's happened to....to Zver...ah, Kitra...Snake.." his brows furrowed as he tried to remember what she called him. He was used to calling him Zver, but not many others did. His aliases were difficult to keep up with. -

The rogue's eyes squinted as her brows knitted together. She didn't like his tone...but what was the worst that could've happened" Kitra dying was the furthest of things in her mind. He might've seemed invincible to Dorian, but he was invincible to Keirra. In a shirt and panties, she was already out the door. Beginning to walk. The worst case scenario' He left her, and didn't have the balls to tell her in person. Even that seemed like a stretch to her. He wouldn't do that. He'd have had the balls. So her mind immediately went to the worst possible thing, "...Did he get arrested again? I'm on my way....I'll call Martyr." Keirra said, and shook her head softly. "Love you." Then the hung up the phone. He was arrested. That's what happened. It was the only thing her mind could process.

-

He blinked, now just as confused as she was. It's when it dawned on him that she was in full blown denial, hell, he sort of was. He was still half expecting Zver to stand up and walk into the hallway bitching about a massive headache and possible chest pains. But no, he still remained laying on that floor with his dead eyes. At the mention of her thinking he was arrested and calling Martyr..."N-no, nonononono!" He stuttered a few inaudible words, waving his hand as if she could see him before she hung up and looked at the blinking name on his phone as she hung up. "Oh bloody fucking hell." He whined, his eyes ticking back to the room. He didn't want to go back in there, frankly. He didn't want to see the invincible Cold Harbor ruffian cut open like a Christmas pig. He whined like a dog under his breath, his head ducked down as his fingers curled around the biceps of the opposing arm. Suddenly, he felt chilled to the bone. The shock was starting to wear off and he could feel the threads coming undone. Wednesday had killed Zver....in his home....Zver was dead on his floor....he had no clue who the second assailant was and he was inches away from falling apart at the seams. He didn't want Ko to see him like that, he immediately tried to call her again.

-

Why on God's green earth would she pick up that phone" She'd probably regret it in the very near future, but she'd gone about her business. She called Martyr, made it out to her car, and sped the whole way there. She was one hundred percent sticking with the Zver got arrested and you get to look like a super badass again and have awesome sex fantasy she'd made up in her head. When she arrived at the house that was supposed to be hers, she put the car in park and sat in the car for a moment. Her fingers ran through her head as she gave herself a little pep-talk. "Alright, Koko...It's not as bad as you think....Just get it together and go face Dorian..." she whispered. "Come on....Breathe..." she coaxed herself. Then she was moving for the door. If it was locked, she'd use her key, if her key didn't work, she'd pick the fucking lock. There was no way she'd waste time knocking.

-

Since he couldn't get a hold of Ko, he'd grown frustrated like the emotion nighteater he was and hummed it, instantly regretting it as it smashed on the wall. Dude was losing it because he didn't know what to do. This wasn't the sort of thing you could bring to the cops, but he knew personally that no cops could catch Wednesday. He knew that for a fact. He had paced, moved into the room, covered the corpse with a sheet because the sight of Zver cut open like that was making him sick to his stomach. And it had nothing to do with the scent that was assaulting his sensitive nose. Then he resumed pacing. Whatever means, whether the door was locked or not, Ko's key would work. She might've moved in pretty much with Kitra but that didn't mean Dorian didn't give her a key in case she was out that way and needed somewhere to crash. Hell, she still had a room in that house. Because he knew the butt Zver could be, so if she needed time away from him, Dorian's arms and house were always open to her. When he heard the door open, he moved that way, aiming to block her from moving further into the house. "There you are, I've been trying to call you. Bloody hell, lovely, you shouldn't have come." His eyes were red and puffy like he'd been crying, probably because he had.

-

When he blocked her off, her brow furrowed and her lips pursed in a seemingly pouty way, but she didn't try to get around him. She was barefoot, wearing one of Kitra's shirts and a pair of panties. She didn't like the puffy eyes, she didn't like the sad little expression on his face. She let out a sigh and raked her nails across her scalp. "Dorian....what?s up?" she asked almost desperately. "Just....Just tell me what he did, okay' Please" I'm okay, just....Just tell me..." Of course her saying she was okay was assuming he'd left her, or he walked in on the demon banging someone else. They'd discussed that they committed, but they never actually agreed on anything. She could handle that much. -

He gave her a once over, seeing her attire but now was not the time for fashion tips. He recognized Kitra's shirts when he saw them though, and his lip quivered at the sight of her wearing it. His eyes glistened over with emotion as he heard her say she was okay, and he felt that in a moment she wouldn't be. "Sweetie.." his tone was soft and he took a step forward, his fingers encircling her upper arms. "Sweetie....Zver's dead....he's....someone killed him." He winced at the words that came from his own mouth and he tried to keep his eyes on her, biting his bottom lip to try to keep it from quivering. He waited, letting those words process in her mind.

-

Oh, they processed alright. It took her a moment, and she stared up at him. There was no emotion on her face, and all at once. She laughed her tiny little ass off. She'd have hit him had he not grasped her arms—though it was probably to keep her from falling over at the news. "You fucking kidding me?" she asked, and shook her head. "I've been there when he got shot up by a whole swat team!" she snickered. "Did he put you up to this? I'm going to hit you both in the balls..." she said, still chuckling. "Snake!" she chimed out. "Get your stupid ass out here, I'm not buying it!"

-

He sighed as she went immediately on the defensive, straight into denial. He shook his head, biting down hard enough on his bottom lip to draw blood as his expression only grew more somber. "Anita...no.." He shook his head, "I don't know how they did it. But he's dead, Tara....TARA." He hated being harsh with her, but he shook her only slightly to get her attention. "No matter how hard he tried, I would never lie to you about this..." His lip quivered and his eyes watered, trying to blink away the tears as he couldn't stop himself from looking over his shoulder to where her husband's corpse laid. He looked back at her, his voice soft. "He's. Dead. This isn't a joke." He let out a sob, letting go of one of her arms as he swiped at a tear that damned well couldn't hold back. "I wish it was, love....I thought it was....I expected him to just stand up and say everything's okay! I'm fine! But he didn't, love." He shook his head, sniffling back snot and tears. "He's gone..."