13038/The Suicide King - Flesh is an Illusion

The Suicide King - Flesh is an Illusion
Date of Scene:	11 October 2022
Location:	A Generic NYC Hotel, Meeting Halls
Synopsis:	An assassin and a bodyguard on opposite sides meet during their respective jobs--and find out their employers gave them much more than they bargained for!
Cast of Characters:	Cecily Winters, June Connor

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Cecily Winters has posed:
    Cecily always hated these kinds of jobs. She preferred being in her workshop, tinkering with guns or loading ammunition. Or wrapped up in a thick coat on a rooftop with binoculars. Today, unfortunately, she was cooped up inside of a hotel, surrounded by suits. Most of whom were more muscle, making her feel redundant and claustrophobic. The half dozen men all had black sunglasses, earpieces, and dark hair. The differences being which way one's was parted or how much facial hair they had. The seven of them total were loosely escorting another gentleman in a suit, this one with greying hair and no eyewear.

    Cecily was operating in a temporary 'personal attache' category today. Her shoulder holster was worn openly, as always, and a flat document bag hung over one shoulder. Thankfully, the other six were fanned out around them as they walked down a long hotel corridor, keeping her tails clear from any of them. Which left her addressing the greying man with paperwork in her hands. "The conference isn't until tomorrow, Mister Dunsberg. I understand you'll be speaking at the..." she flips a page in her brief, "Alternative energy seminar?"

    Her ears lift and she purses her lips in a frown. A lot of muscle for a small meetup, but she shrugged, generally good if a big important group meeting is not as openly advertised as a full-on convention. "That's correct, Ms. Winters," he states, eyes forward. "Gibson Services and Fuels are looking to modernize our portfolio and I'll be speaking on behalf of the board to draw investors to our initiatives..."

    The hallway is wide enough for ten people to walk abreast, the carpets a rather unfortunate pattern that could make one dizzy if they stared at it for too long. It feels like it goes on forever, but it really just wraps around the circular building it's housed in on the second floor of a cylindrical hotel tower.

June Connor has posed:
    June had the details on what to expect. Cecily was the one to avoid, or so she assessed. She didn't nearly have the skills to take down a whole team of trained guards, she had no illusions of that. So how do you get past them? You get invited. She's standing outside one of the rooms before the target, playing on her phone.

    She's rather slight in build, though well toned. Shredded jeans hug her legs, a midriff baring half-sleeved baseball shirt hints at the tattoo winding her left side. Piercings on her ears and nose, fire engine red hair scream edgy. She looks up as she sees the detail, as many might. It's not every day you see a security detail. She spots her target in the middle, and gives a once over so he can see her do it, and a slightly mischevious half smile and a meeting of the eyes, but doesn't say anything.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    "And you just flew in from... Denver, yes?" Cecily asks, focusing on the suit's itinerary. She sees June as the group approaches and she frowns. Her fingers flip to scheduled events at the hotel, ever cautious as she is. Her lips purse while her charge is clearly distracted by the redhead. "Yes, Denver. Tapping the Rockies isn't just about Coors Lite," he chuckles. "There's untold geothermal wealth in those mountains," he explains. Cecily's half listening, she really didn't care. She just has a job to do, and by golly she's going to do it. Oh. There it is.

    "And you're looking to woo investors to help you with those drilling efforts, yes? Laying pipe in the Rockies is no small endeavor, but human ingenuity knows no bounds, truly. The fact rail and road went through there is astoning enough," she says absently. Some kind of punk rock fanfest taking up a bigger hall on the same floor, scheduled for the same weekend. She chuckles to herself, looking at the room numbers. At least they're not next door. That would be hilarity.

    "Yes, something like that," the man says, distracted, slowing his pace to return the long once over to June, clearly not at all hiding his leering gaze. The rest of the security detail give her looks, too, but not the same sort. Cecily just sighs, "Mister Dunsberg, you have a lunch scheduled in forty-five minutes..." she attempts to de-distract him with limited success.

June Connor has posed:
    June's green eyes pass to Cecily when she sighs at Dunsberg's distraction, and then back to him with an arch of the eyebrows that says 'oops, I got you in trouble'. She gives a bigger grin, a wink, and she starts heading down the hall again, making her way toward a door about two dors down. She doesn't dress like someone who'd have the money for this. Must be one of those rich brats who get whatever they want.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    "And where is this luncheon, Ms. Winters?" the man pointedly asks, even if his gaze is firmly planted on June's backside as she walks. The fox blinks, looking away from the redhead, to her charge, and then to her paperwork. "Top floor of this building, it has a great view of the skyline and--" she's cut off by him waving a hand dismissively. "Five minutes to get up there, tops. We have more than enough time to continue our... tour," he remarks, letting the final word hang in the air for a moment. "Mister Dunsberg, I don't see how--" she stammers and again he cuts her off. "May I remind you that the contract stipulates that you shadow me, protect me, and keep my business in order. And right now, my business is two doors down," he nods at the girl.

    Cecily's lips purse in a frown. A few chuckles come from the others in the security detai. "Within -reason-," she protests, and the businessman laughs. It's not a pretty sound. "I've read your file, Ms. Winters. Your... proclivities are known to us. Surely you wouldn't mind conducting a little extra... business? I dare say she might even be interested," he leers over his shoulder at the fox, nodding towards June. The gunsmith's face goes red and she scowls, her ears tilting forward, her tails lashing about in an agitated fashion. "...I will not argue the contract. And I will follow you on your.... tour..." she states with clear disgust.

    She *really* hated men sometimes. Usually those with money and power.

June Connor has posed:
    June opens the door, pretending not to notice the conversation, and heads into the room that she apparently has the key for, acting as if she is only passingly interested. Of course, it's all about enticing the hunt. A girl that seems too interested without reason seems suspicious, but one willing to walk away? A little less so. And so she walks in, and closes it behind her.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    Utterly defeated, Cecily can really only follow the exec as he heads for the door. The security detail dutifully fans out around the entrance, though they don't exactly stack up like they're executing a breach and clear. "Let me do my job at least," she composes herself as best she can but still growls it out, reaching for the handle and opening the door. At the least, if something were to be sprung upon entry, it would hit *her* and not her employer. "Of course, Ms. Winters," states the man, chuckling while smiling smugly. He was right. Her contract was laid out a certain way, and there was plenty of time for extracurricular activities before lunch time.

June Connor has posed:
    The door hits the security bar as it opens a couple of inches. June appears, narrowed eyes. "Can I help you?" she asks, eying Cecily through the door.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    Cecily rolls her eyes, "...Mister Dunsberg noticed you giving him the eye and was hoping that he could..." she looks at her notes, trying to come up with some bullshit. "...discuss with you the finer points of the sutainability of geothermal power... and probably the Dead Kennedys..." she glances back at the man who just scoffs and laughs. "If he was mistaken, do let us know," she adds, hoping dearly that it was all just some kind of misunderstanding.

June Connor has posed:
    June stares back without any indication of assent or denial for a moment. The door shuts, she removes the interview lock, and it opens again. She gives Cecily a once over, one of those once overs that questions her presence in the group in the first place. The look that says she thinks she's some weird furry. She chews on some gum revealed in her mouth, smacking it a little as she looks past her back to Mr. Dunsberg. "Just like that, huh?" she asks, a slightly amused grin on her face. "You got some balls," she says. "This uh... a family affair or somethin'?" she asks, her finger waggily pointing at the others in the party. Another once over at Cecily at the end. Weird furry look again.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    Cecily is a very weird furry. She's dressed like a lawyer, with a gun, and those ears and tails of hers look real. From the way they move, they probably are. The fox just sighs, said ears laying flat against her head. "...my associates and I are just here for Mr. Dunsberg's safety. I'm just doing my job." Her protesting is genuine, but she does spare a long look over June now that she's closer. It's an appraising look, both the sort of one gauging attraction--and with obvious suspicion. Then she goes rigid, her brows lifting. The exec's hand is on her shoulder, "Learn to relax a little, Ms. Winters."

    Casually shrugging the hand off of her shoulder, Cecily steps aside to give precedence to her employer. "Whatever you plan to do together, do it qickly. The clock is ticking," she growls, voice icy. No romance whatsoever in her voice. One of the guard detail tugs on his collar playfully, "Hey if you wanna make it a family affair.." he chuckles in a thick Brooklyn accent. Again, the vixen rolls her eyes. She's regretting taking this job.

June Connor has posed:
    June...isn't in a hurry. She spends a couple of minutes keeping this rich exec on the line, as if he's about to blow it. It seems to be that she likes the pressure of his time. The kind of girl who is small, but seems to know how she can be in control of a guy. A little TOO versed for how old she appears. But eventually, she lets Mr. Dunsberg in, with little doubt in anyone's mind of what might be about to happen. As the door shuts, she gives Cecily a green-eyed wink.

    It's one of those winks that says that she won somehow. A coy communication of victory of some sort.

    Then of course its quiet, at least from the hallway.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    "Son of a bitch," Cecily grunts when the door closes. She leans against the wall and sighs, looking her paperwork over. "You really want to leave him alone in there?" she glances up at one of the other guards. He laughs and shrugs, "Don't get your panties in a twist, foxy. You'll get your turn, I'm sure of it. You see that wink?" The vixen rolls her eyes again. "...if I didn't already sign the contract I'd be walking..." she states. Now it's not even about the money, but her reputation. If she defaulted on a contract, how would that look?

    Meanwhile, in the room, Dunsberg folds his arms, looking smug. "Well now, little lady. We both know what we're in here for, so let's cut the energy commission charade. I've got ten or twenty odd minutes to make you sing... the acoustics in these conference rooms are *amazing*," he grins as he leers.

June Connor has posed:
    "Oh yeah?" June says, backpedaling a little and tugging on Dunsberg's belt. She leans back against the large conference table. "Guess we'll find out, huh?" She take her gum out of her mouth, and plants it on his belt buckle as she starts to undo it.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    "Yeah," Dunsberg takes a seat at one of the conference chairs, chuckling softly and putting his hands up behind his head. "God, why couldn't they have given me you as a body guard? Total sausagefest out there and the only lady in the group is more frigid than Aspen in January..." he grunts and gets comfortable. "Stuck up bitch has a broom handle the size of the Empire State Building up her ass..."

June Connor has posed:
    "Yeah," June says, "Bitch wouldn't know a good time if it fucked her," she agrees, pulling the belt through the loops. She gets up onto the arms of the chair to stradle him, teasing for a kiss. "As to why they didn't hire me," she grins, as if to say something naughty. Beat. She slides forward and aroun, quickly taking the belt to wrap it around his neck as she places herself behind the chair, giving her leverage, and making it hard for him to do anything to get at her from his position. When taking down an opponent at least a 100 lbs your better, you better have a good position over them. Or in this case, behind him, as she wrenches the belt and pulls down with all of her weight.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    "Ha! Probably not!" he laughs, watching with rapt attention as his belt is loosed and removed. He seems pretty sturdy, his lap comfortable. His hands stay back behind his head as he feels the girl's weight on his lap. A little shake and he bucks his hips playfully, "Going all the way huh?" he asks, as if assuming the best of this situation. At least, until the belt gets wrapped arouns his neck. He can feel his windpipe getting compressed, his eyes starting to bulge out from lack of air. Reflexively, his hands try to grab at the belt, to wedge his fingers between the leather and his neck. The sounds he makes come ragged, wet, and violent. Like a hacking cough cut off.

    Outside in the hall, Cecily's ears prick up. She's sharp, and those aren't normally the sounds one makes when in the throes of pleasure. She drops her brief on the ground and pulls her handgun from its holster, free hand grabbing the door handle. "Breaching!" she shouts, a warning to the guard detail for them to fall in behind her. The vixen -slams- her shoulder into the door and barges in just in time to see Dunsberg's face starting to turn blue, his eyes white as they've rolled up into his sockets. "Let him go or I'll shoot!" she barks at June.

    "Yesssssss... let... me... gooooo...." gurgles the exec, his fingers digging into his own neck, nails pushing through flesh and getting behind the belt. Blood flows, the leather and his hands getting sticky, red leaking from the corners of his mouth. But he's grinning, a wide rictus grin. Something is *wrong*. His muscle tissue hardens, his body goes rigid and he's managing to pull the pressure of the belt from his throat. "Mister... Dunsberg...?" Cecily stares at him, then at June, then back to him. Behind her, the guards file in and the door closes behind her.

    "Jig... is up..." Dunsberg chokes, then his eyes roll right back forward, bloodshot and red, staring right at June. "Boo, little girl."

June Connor has posed:
    As Cecily breaches the door, there is June, her face barely visible behind the chair, teeth clenched as she pulls all of her weight back on it. He shouldn't have just choked. His neck should have brocken by now. Something is wrong. She looks up at Cecily's presence and the guards. And...then Dunsberg's head turns around.

    "Holy shit, what are you?" she asks, clearly horrified. Her hand reaches inside her pants at the rear, pulling a kunai while continuing to hold the belt. Last thing she needs is him getting free now. She doesn't wait for the answer to her question, a quick eye shift to Caitlyn with a look of spite, and she jabs the kunai for the left eye of the cyborg CEO.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    Cecily seems to be just as shocked as June is. She seems less inclined to aim her gun at the ninja girl now and focuses on the CEO. "What the hell?!" she growls, "This is *not* what I signed up for!" And the cyborg continues to gurgle-laugh as his voice comes out with a mixture of wet sounds and tinny buzzing. "Get 'em... boys...!" he hacks, coughs, and gets jabbed in the eye! His fingers continue to try and claw the belt free, but there's no hidden blades and June's got leverage. Plus the sharp object piercing his artificial cortex sends spasms throughout his body.

    Behind Cecily, though, her ears perk up as she hears the sounds of pistols being drawn, cocked, and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "Oh seven hells..." she growls and hits the floor as six shots ring out. Six shots that had been aimed for her, not June. She rolls onto her back, pulling the trigger and stitching a line of bullets up the chest of one bodyguard, punching holes in his suit and piercing synthetic skin. It's the bullet that goes up through his throat and into his head that does the telling damage, skull snapping back and body falling backwards.

    A swift upward kick sends his handgun flying in the general direction of June. "Catch and help me with these!" she grunts.

June Connor has posed:
    June has always been able to pivot when it counts. As her primary foe suddenly is the target of her own team, June gives a palm strike into the kunai for good extra measure to make sure it gets all the way in. She releases him to catch the gun by the barrel. She strikes Dunsberg for yet another blow. She's really freaked out about what she just witnessed, and wants to make sure that he stays down. He is the target after all. With that she dives under the table and regrips the gun properly. Several rounds are released at the shins of one of the guards still standing.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    Dunsberg's body continue to spasm as signal disruptions create a cascade of failures throughout it. The strike of the kunai sends the blade all the way through, the end of it slamming out from the back of his skull with a splurt of blood and other strange fluids. Then the pistol whip makes his head hang to one side unnaturally, as if the full one-eighty wasn't unnatural enough. Those fingers stay clenched but aside from some autonmous spasms, he seems to be out of the fight completely.

    The shots to the shin down the guard June opens fire at, bringing him to one knee as the same mixture of fluids leak through wounds in whatever shin armor had been pierced by bullets. The hard landing makes his sunglasses fall off and the faint glow in his own eyes can be seen, marking him as another construct. His arm comes up and he opens fire on June! "Leave no witnesses!" he barks at the others. The other four still standing.

    Cecily uses the momentum from her kick to get back to her feet before she runs towards June and one of the other conference tables. A few bullets slam into her back and she slides underneath a table with a yelp, pushing it up and using it as a shield, "I *swear* to the goddess I'm going to have a chat with my temp agency after this!" she shouts as rounds slam into her cover from two of the guards. The other two take an interest in the hiding ninja and shoot in June's direction as well.

June Connor has posed:
    June makes a mistake. She trades shots instead of dodging. As the man hits the ground she fires again to unload four more rounds at him, then scrambles a little too late as he fires at her. She rolls, and feels the bite of a hot round as it nips her side.

    There's no time to complain about it though, and she continues her roll to come out from under the table blood streaks down her shirt as she lets out a roar, grabbing the back of the chair for a shield and firing at the other guard who has his sights on her, shoving it ahead of her as she charges toward him as she fires wildly in his direction.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    Cecily winces. She can't smell the blood but she can tell June was hit. Her own wounds burn but they're in this whether they like it or not. June's focus on the guard who had involuntarily taken a knee is more than enough. Even wildly firing, the high-capacity magazine in the .45 that was tossed to her has enough rounds to effectively knock him down and back as holes fill his torso and a lucky shot slams him right in the mouth as he tries to bark another order. In his fall, his own gun slips from his grasp, putting it on the floor and right in the path of the girl and the chair. As for the Weekend at Bernie's stand-in, he makes an excellent shield as bullets from the two guards firing just slam into meat, metal, and the chair sliding on the floor.

    The vixen pulls her bag open while all of this is going on, dropping her sidearm in exchange for the PDW she keeps on hand. There's a clack and a clunk as she loads and cocks the MP7, rolling to the side and peeking out from the edge of the table about the same time June's target is floored. The sound of automatic fire echoes over the din of single and scattered handgun rounds, filling one of the men focusing on her with a dozen armor-piercing rounds that send him stumbling back and crashing into the locked door, slumping and sliding and smearing red and black on the polished wood.

June Connor has posed:
    June drops the gun as she hears the click following the last round. Maybe she should be more conservative with her ammo. She reaches into her pocket and pulls a small marble sized pellet, and grits her teeth as she reaches over to slap it against the hard table. It explodes, pluming a green smoke around her as she falls to the floor. That pain from the shot is starting to take hold. takes a gulp of air, and starts army crawling away from the cloud. It's a tear gas pellet and fumbles to grab hold of the gun that was dropped by her second target before rolling back under the table.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    The bodyguards hadn't exactly been prepared for such a changing battlefield or the situation they were now in. Not the least of which being a gas cloud and automatic weaponry. The pair firing at June pause to reload and halt, vision obscured by the rising teargas. Even if it isn't going to cause them physical distress, it still makes an effective deterrent visually! The one firing on Cecily uses the body of one of his fellows as a shield, emptying his magazine at her while she unloads hers. The burst rips through his arm and blows out his shoulder while the fox is slammed in her own shoulder as that telltale 'click' signals the end of her mag.

    There's a grunt as she hauls herself back behind her table, digging into her bag again. "We get out of this..." she calls out to June, thumbing a few rounds out of her pistol magazines before packing in some glowing capsule-like cartridges instead, "...I'm buying you lunch. Once I figure out what the fuck happened here today."

June Connor has posed:
    June closes her eyes, taking a moment to think carefully about what she hears rather than what she can see. She thinks of Elektra's training, and winces. She really wishes she had taken the blind fighting stuff more seriously right now.

    The mag hits the ground for her two targets, and she moves. A roll from under the tables bursts her forward in the midst of their reload. It puts her in the middle of the tear gas, which will quite frankly suck. However, she wagers they don't expect her to enter it either. She bursts up, firing point blank at one of them while she collides with him, slamming him into the wall before grabbing him with a clench in her right hand and turning to use him as a shield as she fires at where she THINKS the second is.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    The timing couldn't be better. Cyborg bodyguards or not, they do need to reload. The time taken is enough for June's gambit to succeed, the woman's point-blank shots catching him off guard and sending bullets into him. "GRAH! Little bi--" he's cut off as he's grabbed and used as a shield, "Don't shoo-!" he tries to call out to the other as his partner finishes reloading and trades fire with June. Effectively, this leads to him dumping half of his mag into the human shield while staggering back, taking hits from June's trading of fire.

    On the other side of things, Cecily's finished her own loading, sliding the glowing rounds into her magazine and said mag into her pistol. She grits her teeth and swallows back the pain of her own injury, coming back around her barricade on another side to bring her gun to bear. Two. Three shots. These ones are different. The muzzle flash is a bright blue-purple, the sound is unnatural and loud, and the three blasts leave trails of that same color lingering in the air.

    The projectiles though, two slam into the one she's been sharing shots with, bright foxfire incinerating cloth, flesh, and even turning metal to slag as it eats into him and sends him to the floor. The third hits June's already staggering dance partner in the side of the head, the projectile tunneling into his skull and the energy burning through everything within--to the point where it explodes from his eye sockets. The reflexive death grip on his gun sends bullets wild, hitting the walls and ceiling as he falls.

    But as the gas clears, the trio of fiery lances hangs in the air and Cecily coughs, "..fuck." All's quiet otherwise.

June Connor has posed:
    Closing your eyes helps a little in tear gas, but it hardly stops the effect. June clenches her teeth as she feels the impact of the rounds on her shield. She can't see, her nose is running, and tears are forced from her eyes despite closing them. As her shield takes the round to the head, and his form tumbling to the side from the impact puts her off balance, both of them crashing into the wall and giving a couple of shoulder shaped indents. She slumps to the ground, now sprayed with the blood of her enemy across her face. She interrupts the silence with coughing of her own. "You can say that again," she groans, rubbing the back of her hand against her clenched shut eyes. "Why the hell did I have to bring tear pellets?" she asks, slumped against the wall with her legs splayed out like a toddler.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    A light overhead flickers and burns out, one of those stray bullets having done it in. It leaves the blue-purple glow of the foxfire rounds to shine all the more ethereally as Cecily drags herself to her feet. "SO... how about... you tell me who you are.. and who hired you.." she hooks a chair with her foot and drags it along until she's about a meter from June, then just collapses into it. "Because clearly they had better intel than whomever the hell hired me... to guard this fuckstick..."

    She kicks at the leg of one of the downed security detail, eyes wandering over the wounds, the mix of meat and metal. "...getting really sick of these guys."

June Connor has posed:
    June's answer isn't fast in coming. She picks one knee up, then the other, and slides herself back up the wall to a standing position. She wanders away from the thicker part of the tear gas. "Yeah, she gags out. "Let's go out of here first, how about that?" she still has her eyes mostly closed, trying to wince sight back. "I gotta wash my face and..." she pulls a piece of skull out of her hair. "Fuck, that's gross as shit. You know cops will be here in like seconds." She stumbles forward, and pulls her phone out to snap a picture of the target. "I gotta charge more for this," she complains.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    "They'll.. get here when they get here.." Cecily sighs, looking around at the mess. "I'll call it in. Give them a story..." she drags herself up to stand again, one arm stiff now as blood trickles down it. "Bathroom's just across the hall," she grunts and moves towards the door. "We'll clean up, I'll give you my card, and you can vanish before the badges show up."

    The fox's ears lay flat and she looks over at the remains of Mister Dunsberg. Or the thing that looked like him. "I have an even bigger mess to clean up after this anyway. And the real Dunsberg to find, if he's even still alive..." Then she finally holsters her pistol and rubs her forehead. Glancing at June, she nods, "Yeah. They didn't pay me enough for this. Though I doubt -my- employers knew this was going to happen."

June Connor has posed:
    June also moves to the bathroom after putting the safety on the pistol and tucking the barrel into her belt, and goes straight to the sink, splashing and rubbing her face to get the effects of the tear gas freed. "Augh," she grunts, working to clear her eyes.

    "So," she says between splashes. "You were hired to protect Dunsberg, who wasn't real, and I was hired to kill him, but he wasn't real, so we both fucked up, right? Not sure how that makes us on the same side about this," she points out. "I mean, you don't try to murder me right now and I won't do the same, but..." she grabs a paper towel, drying her face. "This shit just got a bit too superhero weird."

Cecily Winters has posed:
    Cecily isn't going to get the blood out of her white top, not in a hotel bathroom, but she can at least wash the splash from her face and clean her arm off. "All I'm saying..." she says as she takes off her gloves and glasses before soaking her face in warm water. "...is that maybe whoever hired you knew something was up. Maybe. Maybe I like to be a little charitable when I've been in the middle of a gunfight with an assassin on one side that didn't take pot shots at me for convenience?"

    She looks over at June before drying her face and cleaning her glasses. "Because either way, the real exec is out there somewhere. And if there's someone making cybernetic clones of people like him, that doesn't exactly bode well now does it? And hells, the conference is tomorrow..." she grumbles.

June Connor has posed:
    June leans on the lavatory, and stares into the mirror to look at Cecily. "Okay," she process. "That tracks, and if so, then hell, I did my part. "Guess you gotta find the guy you were really hired to protect. Unless they wanted you to protect the clone so nobody would find out," she tilts her head. "See, this James Bond bullshit is way to complicated. I'm not really known for thinkin' about the big picture." She glances at the blood spattered white top. "See, right there is why you don't wear white after Labor Day."

Cecily Winters has posed:
    "I always wear white," Cecily deadpans. "This is my work uniform. And I'm always on the clock." Black vest. White blouse. Sleeves rolled up. Yep. She uses her good hand to pull out her business card and holds it up to June. It's black with a fox design etched into the surface, silver underneath. A fox. A phone number. And the words 'Kitsune Arms'. Nothing else. "I'll figure it out. Someone's giving us the business. Give me a call sometime. Especially if anything on your end comes to light."

    She sighs and looks in the mirror again, still favoring one arm, doing her best to keep the other from moving. "Thanks for not shooting me. Lunch is still on offer. Not today, though. I've got phone calls to make and a cleanup crew to get out here."

June Connor has posed:
    June takes the card, glancing at it momentarily before tucking it into her back pocket. "Aight," she says. "I gotta get out of here. Thanks for not shooting me as well." She lets her eyes drift to the ears. It looks like she is going to ask what Cecily has likely been asked a dozen times before. She decides against it. "Good luck with clean up," she comments, and heads for the bathroom exit.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    Maybe Cecily knows what the question is. Maybe she doesn't. But she can follow the eyes and make an assumption. Her ears twitch and she turns back to the mirror again. "Yes, they're real," is all she says before giving herself one more once-over with the paper towels. Her tails flit behind her some and she spares one more glance towards June. "Stay safe out there."