Post by Alistair Crowsly on Nov 24, 2012 4:53:17 GMT -5
(This is by invitation only so if you’re not me and you’re not Rae and you’re not a God, sling your hook please)
Alistair so very rarely had a crisis of morals. Morals were not a useful thing for a Vampyre to have; at least not human ones anyway. Vampyre’s couldn’t identify with human morals for that would be like a fox identifying with a chicken.
However Alistair was faced with a crisis now. He stood in an alleyway behind a bar with a young woman he had just charmed (or perhaps mesmerized a little) in London. She was a picture to behold standing tall on high heels with firm, pert breasts, perfectly rounded behind and ringlets of blonde hair that fell about her face. Most Vampyre’s found it so easy to get blood that they no longer stooped to the level of drinking from the homeless anymore. In those Vampyre’s eyes it was no longer blood itself which was the prize but the beauty that it came from. Not that Alistair would go around showing the corpse off to other Vampyre’s. It was more of a self-pride thing.
However this magnificent, perfectly colored (not too tanned but not as pale as him) specimen was perhaps not right; not up to the scratch he had hoped; for when she had went to the bathroom before leaving he had snooped in her purse and found that she was in fact only sixteen and had used fake ID to get into said bar. Now Alistair fed on many pretty young women over the years but, to his knowledge, the youngest he had ever fed was a girl out on her eighteenth birthday celebration.
This is ridiculous, he told himself as he pressed the woman up against the wall. They’d been kissing already but he upped the passion. She’s just a human. What does it matter?
No, he replied to himself. My own Sire had the decency to bite me when I was past age. I was an adult. I don’t bite kids. He stopped kissing but that didn’t stop her. His mesmerisation really seemed to have gotten her. He decided to at least let her kiss herself out. He would find another victim. Feeding wasn’t an immediate need anyhow. He’d fed three days ago. This was just a spur of the moment snack.
She began to trail her kisses along the jaw line. Down to the neck. He could feel the softness of her lips, the wet warmth of her tongue, the sharp point of her teeth… The sharp point of her teeth! Alistair’s eyes shot wide open and his fist struck her in the stomach with some force sending her reeling into the opposite wall.
He bared his fangs and hissed at her. Oh, what a mistake! He’d been trying to feed on a Vampyre. This so very rarely happened in his lifetime. Usually you could tell. You had to tell. Vampyre blood is poisonous to other Vampyres. In a situation like that one Vampyre bleeds to death and the other dies of blood poisoning. Pure folly and total death.
“Hsss, Vampyre! I should have known!” The other Vampyre hissed back.
“Watch it, lady! You almost got us both killed.” Alistair said straightening up ad adjusting his black suit. “Newblood?” Alistair asked somewhat mockingly as he implied her folly came from a lack of experience (this is a popular Vampyre insult).
“Hssss, Dhampyre for over five decades lecher.” She replied still bent forward teeth bared threateningly.
Alistair sighed. This looked like it was going to turn into a fight. “Dhampyre, that solves it.” Alistair said simply and disappeared.
The Dhanpyre looked around defensively straightening up into a somewhat defensive position. Suddenly Alistair appeared right in front of her and appeared to rip off his face. Demons, Vampyres, evil spirits all swirled around inside his face. Countless nightmares all screwed up into one reality. A Demonic Visage of pure hell.
The Dhampyre screamed and went running as fast as her little legs could carry her. Obviously most supernaturals were a little less prone to feeling absolute fear like Humans but not many sane ones could survive a glimpse inside his head.
It was all an illusion though and Alistair hadn’t really ripped off his face. His face was, in fact, perfectly fine if a little miffed. A few moments later after the Dhampyre Alistair strode out of the alley way
Post by Rae-Star Berii on Nov 24, 2012 5:19:46 GMT -5
Rae was back in London. She had been swatting in her old manor home on the Chelsea embankment. The house had remained empty since the previous owner’s disappearances- well; you don’t get murder houses on the market very often do you? But Rae knew the real story of the house she had grown up in, she knew the riches and wealth and warm of the house before it had become an empty squatting shell. Since her return here she had come to know the houses secrets too. The cellar where her father kept his weapons and files and cages, for one; was not a well-known fact to her as a child but now as a teenager following the path set out in ‘The Case File’, well Rae-Star was privy to such information. Three years ago she had moved out of this house with her mother and little brother. Just a few months ago she had moved back to it.
Of course, Rae did not use the upper floor where the bedrooms were. She had no intention of revisiting those ghosts. She had checked, on her first arrival that it was all as she remembered it to be, but after that she had been kipping on the sofa and using the downstairs utilities. Her room was as it had been the day she had left, but it was not a bedroom that Rae found of comfort anymore. It was pink, and fluffy, and princess like and Rae had grown out of being such a high quality princess. She had grown out of the superficial money-loving little girl with no understanding of how the world worked. In fact, Rae had a better understanding than most human girls her age of how the damned and cursed world worked. This world, after all, did not belong to the humans – not anymore.
As darkness fell she left her swat come home, locking Eli in to guard for the night she slipped out of the backdoor and onto the main street. It was a busy night, a Friday night, there were people around on their way out for the evening. Most of them, Rae knew were innocent, were naive, but even walking down the street she found herself suspiciously watching the world around her. She was inspecting them with an over-cautious eye as she meandered passed them and along the pavement.
Tonight Rae was not wearing her usual black on black, she was not cloaked in her blood red leather jacket and she was not, for the first time in a long time, carry her back pack. She was entrusting her laptop to Eli’s protection, knowing the dog (despite his excitement over the smallest of things) would sleep on the damned thing, but in turn he would not leave it. No, tonight Rae looked somewhat like the eighteen year old girl she deserved to feel. Her feet were clan in knee high slender, leather boots; her legs wrapped in soft cotton shorts- both of which were light in colour- and on her torso she wore a pretty, off-the-shoulder bat winged pale pink knitted jumper. It matched the pale pink strands of her hair, hair which was smattered with other colours too. Rae was even wearing make-up, artistic and Smokey, it heightened her mysteriously beautiful looks.
So why was she out in the dark? Well, Rae was not out clubbing, that much was sure. No, she was doing something a little bit more intellectually challenging than that. Rae had heard about an underground poker-hole. The bets were high, the players were frivolous and the rewards were humbling. Rae had almost spent her bank loan, so with the remaining couple of hundred she had, she intended to win her money back. With a pictorial, photographic mind and a head for computer hacking, poker was merely a sport to Rae.
As she turned down an alleyway she was nearly knocked over by a girl running the other way. Rae just about backed into the wall as the girl snarled at her. For a moment, Rae paused, frowning. “Watch it” She muttered, too late and under her breath as the girl ran out into the night. She bent and picked up her clutch bag from the ground (she had dropped it when the girl came barrelling towards her) and brushed a little dirt of the oak coloured silk. “Some people are just rude.” She muttered to herself, shook her head and turned back towards the darkness of the alleyway- sure she had the right place.
Post by Alistair Crowsly on Nov 24, 2012 6:13:42 GMT -5
Alistair had noticed her immediately. He had an eye for pretty woman but this was nothing special. You didn’t need to be a Vampyre to spot a hot girl not ten steps in front of you. All the extra practice probably helped though.
What certainly helped was her hair. What extraordinary hair. It drew Alistair's eye like modern art. It was quite a stunning piece of art for hair. You rarely saw something so beautiful on someone's head these days. Not since hats went out of fashion.
Alistair himself wasn’t exactly ugly. He wore a suit rather well despite his youth and together with his spark of Irish heritage he managed to pull of dashing and fun which is some feat I’ll tell you that. Other than dashing and fun most people wouldn’t remember much else about his clothing. Alistair’s physical form was mostly ambiguous. If quizzed afterword someone might note his pale skin but aside from that there were no major physical identifiers.
As she straightened up from picking up her bag she found herself face-to-face with Alistair. He stared down directly into her eyes (he being taller I believe) and spoke mesmerising her.
“Hello, pre-tty gir-ly. What are you up to this eve-ning?” He spoke slowly as he mesmerised her. He knew sudden motions or loud noises could snap her out of it before he got her into a trance.
Post by Rae-Star Berii on Nov 24, 2012 6:27:47 GMT -5
At a tiny five foot nothing it was easier for most people to be taller than Rae. Her chocolate brown eyes found his muddy ones and she paused for a moment. Rae was not use to people invading her personal space. After all, she lived alone, and the damned dog didn’t know personal space if it bit it on the tail. Still, the man stood before her was not a dog. She could not say for sure that he definitely wasn’t a dog, because she knew such beings as shape shifters existed in the world and thus it would be wrong for her to assume he definitely couldn’t be a dog if he wanted too, but in that moment there was no comparison between Eli and the stranger in the alleyway- well, other than the fact that both of them liked to get a little too close for comfort.
As he spoke, Rae felt a strange feeling overcome her. It felt like getting into a hot bath after being out in the cold rain, comfortable yet so in juxtaposition with the previous feeling that it made her skin tingle and the hair on the back of her neck stand on edge. Rae blinked at him, slowly, the curve of her lips forming a gentle ‘o’ as she considered his question. In the back of her mind, as the smart, intelligent, sensible Rae was locked amongst the foggy mist of his spell over her; she knew he was not human. She knew instantly that she had felt something a-kin to this before. The last time a vampire had stalked into her dream and had tried to kill her. But for now the screaming raging memory was locked out of communication, muted by the purr of his words.
Rae wet her lips slowly and found herself answering; the whole experience becoming somewhat ‘out-of-body’; “I’m going to play poker.” She told him, truthfully. She blinked again, speech slow as she sunk into the trance like state. It was a difficult one to fight off; her logic and intelligence fighting feebly against the warm, cosy feel of the daze.
Fortunately perhaps, for Rae, as her body relaxed and her muscles rested she once more dropped the purse she had been holding on the ground. It hit with a thud and as the small chain-link catch broke open her gun slipped out. It hit the stone of the alleyway with a rather loud crack. The noise brought Rae to her senses brought the warning scream that she was in danger back to the fore-front of her mind and she staggered back from him.
In a small agile movement she swept up the gun, turning the barrel on him. “Stop” her voice sounded, strong, bold and without fear. Feet shoulder width apart the small, easy to eat looking girl, turned from timid teenager to fierce woman. The wind catching her hair and casting it over her shoulder as she cupped the butt of her gun with both hands, fingers present and prepared over the lip of the trigger.
Post by Alistair Crowsly on Nov 24, 2012 6:59:11 GMT -5
It had all been going rather well. The pretty little thing had bore all the signs of going into a trance. Hell she’d even answered his question in a way that made him guess truthfully. It had all been going too well until that damn gun ruined everything. In fairness the thing wasn’t exactly sentient. It was his fault for letting the handbag fall to the ground in the first place. He should have caught it and he could of; without breaking eye-contact even which, strictly speaking, wasn’t necessary once you actually got someone into a trance; but he had not thought it important at the time.
She had become violent all too quickly. It was normal for people broken out of a Mesmer to feel confused and aggressive but she was too steady; too in control of things; for it to simply have been on impulse. He got the feeling he wasn’t the first Vampyre she’d ever met which probably met she was packing the real heat. Big ol’ silver bullets: Vampyre’s common foe (except for those damn Argoniths!).
“A firearm, milady? Do you think that will work? Do you think I am quite that sort of… character?” He added the right amount of smugness and lack of action that an Argonith Vampyre would add. If she were any kind of Hunter she would know what he meant. He had issued a silent challenge to her that no Vampyre other than one immune to Silver would issue. She would also know, if she knew about Argonith Vampyre’s at all, that the time it takes to fire and register in your brain that it did not work was all the time Argonith’s needed to take you down and was their common method of winning stand-offs with Hunter’s who had to resort to silver rather than stakes.
It was, of course, a bluff. He was no Argonith and a silver bullet to the heart could kill him clean dead; no mulligan’s; no second chances; just plain dead. It was a gamble but being the most hunted supernatural being in existence was a gamble anyway so he felt he could take some chances…
Post by Rae-Star Berii on Nov 24, 2012 7:10:12 GMT -5
Rae held steady, her eyes dark swirling pools of chocolate as they watched him, she was full of the cautions of a new born lamb, learning to step on its own four feet. Rae was not an experienced hunter, she was not a well versed wolf in this world, but she was learning and she was doing so pretty damn quickly. Silver, it seemed, would wound if not kill most of the ugly little creatures in this world. Silver would buy her time. Her gun as always loaded; six silver rounds in the chamber and Rae had taken to going nowhere without it. She had other fighting skills also, but carrying around a sweet-steel hunting knife tended to draw more attention than her compact handgun.
Not a naturally violent person, it took her moment to register the tone in her voice and for a moment she was partially proud of herself. She sounded like the real deal. This wasn’t the first vampire she had met, but this is the first one who had tried to set her down the trance path. This was new information, information she would need to record. Of all days to leave her laptop at home!
Wetting her lips, slowly, she tasted the soft polish of the balm there. Rae was biding her time. She felt a little dizzy still, a little foggy in her mind and while she was reacting with carefully precise instinct her mind was not keeping up with what was going on around her. Then he spoke in his evident riddle. Rae had to wonder what that meant. As far as she was concerned a vampire was a vampire, and though he hadn’t shown her his fangs yet she was sure he was just that now; she could see the way he watched the gun with caution. He was taking her as seriously as she was taking him.
“What was that?” She asked, slowly. Ignoring his question and keeping the gun centred on him. “What the fuck were you trying to do to me?” Let him be confused by her questions, let him doubt his assumptions. She wanted answers, her curiosity begged for them and ultimately, if he moved towards her then her shot would be clean.
Post by Alistair Crowsly on Nov 24, 2012 7:54:11 GMT -5
“What the fuck were you trying to do to me?”
‘I was trying to have a good time thank you very much.’ He thought in reply. He didn’t say it though. There was no point aggravating the situation by saying something like that.
She seemed dizzy still but he had no doubt she would squeeze that trigger if he made any move toward her. By the way she still brandished the gun with authority he guessed she either wasn’t buying it or didn’t know what an Argonith was. He was in quite the predicament. His skills of illusion did not seem like they were going to help him this time.
He considered showing her the visions but if she wasn’t paralysed in fear than she’d most certainly tense up and fire the weapon. It was unlikely that a panic shot would strike him fatally but there was always a possibility and frankly he didn’t want to think about it.
“I’m not answering any questions with a gun in my face. You know carrying one of those here is illegal.” He told her indignantly. He wasn’t some two-bit serial killer. He was a mighty Vampyre. He demanded some modicum of respect. “Illegal.” He repeated as if she should feel ashamed of herself for breaking the law.
Post by Rae-Star Berii on Nov 24, 2012 8:27:15 GMT -5
In her long boots and shorts she could still runaway, she could drop the assault, turn on her heel and leg it. He would probably catch her, of course, but it might get her out into the open, out into the populated street and away from him. That or she could shoot him and get it over with. It would be the third vampire she killed, the third supernatural she had killed. She could add him to the scaling numbers she was climbing. Or not…of course. Rae didn’t particularly like having to kill anyone. The first time she had killed a vampire it was out of sheer luck and self-defence. The second time, granted she had stalked her prey, had been because the vampire in question had jumped into her dreams and tried to kill her first….thinking about it this way, Rae never elicited the attack, always it was out of self-defence.
“You kill people and drink their blood and you’re judging my illegal activities?” She asked him, incredulously. He had no right to indignant, either, and she found his repetition of the words frustrating. She knew she did things that were sometimes considered illegal. Living in a house that was ‘still on the market’ for one, she had stolen food before too. Carrying a gun, and using it, was not something she had a choice in. It was the only way she didn’t get picked off by some rabid beast in the middle of the night. It was her survival as his came from his fangs.
“I can’t know you won’t attack me.” She told him, steadily, letting him her hear thoughts. “If I lower the barrel just an inch I won’t be centred on your heart and my shot won’t kill you – which will certainly mean my death.” She paused for a moment, letting the words sink in and then she spoke again. “So if I’m going to lower my weapon, I need you to give me some way of knowing you won’t try and kill me.” It seemed like a fair deal to her. If he didn’t take it, she’d just shoot him and go back to finding her poker-house.
Post by Alistair Crowsly on Nov 24, 2012 9:20:32 GMT -5
“You kill people and drink their blood and you’re judging my illegal activities?”
“Oh here we go.” Was his kneejerk vocal reaction as he launched into a rant “Vampyres kill people they’re evil. Are foxes evil? Lions? Hawks? Humans? It’s all well and good hunting several races to extinction to feed your bellies and mount your walls but the moment humans find out they’re prey it’s all immoral and wrong but I suppose that’s just human nature. Oh, you make me sick.” The first sentence was said in a mock female voice and the last one indignantly and venomously (he even pointed at her).
In his tirade he didn’t even hear her deal so he waited then for her rebuke to his rant for humans always had a rebuke; an excuse; a reason why they are not at fault. Despite the modicum of validity in his point it would falter in the eyes of anyone who had, for example, saw a list of all his good versus bad actions. Perhaps his point would stand as a defense for a Vampyre who didn’t love being a Vampyre. Unfortunately this just wasn’t the case for Alistair. The thrill of the hunt; traveling all around the world; immortality = worth it!
Post by Rae-Star Berii on Nov 24, 2012 9:27:58 GMT -5
His rant surprised her and she frowned at him. Hang on a minute; wasn’t he making the same point as she was? Why was he having a go at her when he was validating her point? She rolled her eyes a little, grinding her teeth together but had the decency to wait until he had finished and was glaring at her before she responded. “That’s what I said.” She told him, quietly, lowering her voice now after feeling like his was shouting at her. “You’re just repeating my opinion but selfishly. You suggested I was in the wrong and when I tip the scales to a returned sense of balance you decide to slate me?” She shook her head a little is disgust at his quick tongue but lack of thought. “Listen to yourself, you sound like a petulant teenager.”
Rae sighed, and she gave in, lowering the gun, though she kept it close in her right hand she sighed heavily and said. “We’re different. But you started this when you tried to suck my blood. I, like a deer, or gazelle or mouse, am allowed to defend myself. If my defence upsets you then you are voiding your right to hunt me in the first place.” It was logical; in fact, the sense of logic in what she was saying was almost impeccable. “I don’t appreciate your mocking tone, either.” She told him, boldly.
Post by Alistair Crowsly on Nov 24, 2012 9:59:32 GMT -5
He listened; well kept his ear open for plot points; as she fired back her rebuke. The rebuke he had expected though a little longer and a tad more logical than expected. Good old predictable humans. Couldn’t live with ‘em; couldn’t live without ‘em.
“Well I didn’t appreciate being held at gun point.” He told her in that same mocking tone “And who said I was trying to eat you? There are plenty of ways to have fun with a girl that don’t involve sucking her dry, you know. Sometimes there is sucking involved, don’t get me wrong, but not of the blood.” He told her with a charming yet cheeky wink.
He adjusted his suit even though it had hardly been affected by the stand-off. It had become a bit of a habit after tense situations. It wasn’t the oddest habit ever and it had never been particularly life threatening so he had never thought to change his ways.
“Three questions.” He declared when he was finished fixing himself. “For ‘sparing’ me I will answer three questions truthfully. Any three questions. So, come on; throw ‘em at me.” Alistair reckoned he was being overly generous in this endeavour. In fact he almost felt it had something of a poetic ring too it.
Post by Rae-Star Berii on Nov 24, 2012 10:10:59 GMT -5
He made her feel sick. He made her feel vulgar inside with his suggestion of what he could do to her whilst under the trance. Men like that…well they deserved to be shot. Literal shivers went up her spine and Rae physically stepped back from him one pace, her brown boots landing in a puddle but she was unbothered for now as the suede sucked up the rank alleyway liquids. Her skin crawled like a thousand lice were running over it, and she gave him a look that suggested complete and utter hatred in that moment. She remembered all too well what it was to be a girl forced to do something she did not want to do.
But he had granted her curiosity an outlet. Only she did not repeat her previous questions, she did not ask him what he had done to her or how he had done it. By now she had come to the conclusion it was some form of mind control. No, if she only had three questions, and here she was assuming he would answer them truthfully, then she was going to use them wisely.
“Thank you.” She swallowed her growl and spoke quietly; there was no need to be rude to him, even though what he was suggesting was horrific. She felt she should offer him the same in return, but her life was uninteresting and furthermore he might try to feed from her. With this in mind she asked, simply; “How did you become a vampire?”
Her thought process had nothing to do with the fact she had any inclination to become a vampire, far from it in fact. If you know how something is made, you generally know how to undo it. Heck, she may even be able to work out how to prevent such a thing happening…
Post by Alistair Crowsly on Nov 25, 2012 6:31:52 GMT -5
He saw the way she looked at him. He didn’t have to care how she felt about him. After tonight they would likely never meet again and, if they did, one of them would probably die. Did Alistair care whether girls didn’t want to do what they were mesmerised into? Frankly mesmerisation was all suggestion with just a little touch of magic. If there was anything someone really didn’t want to do they wouldn’t.
“How did you become a Vampire?”
Alistair’s brow furrowed thoughtfully. That brought him back. It wasn’t much of a story but if that’s what she wished to ask then she would get an answer.
“My Sire stalked me for twelve nights. To sire; to create; it is not a whimsical choice as most people believe it. For those Vampyre’s with honour and dignity it is like adopting a child. On the thirteenth night on my way home from the carpenter’s shop where I worked I was knocked out. All I remember is someone landing behind me and getting hit in the back of the head.” He paused to collect his thoughts before continuing “When I woke up I was bleeding from my scalp and my chest. I remember stumbling in the direction of my home but the next thing I remember is being hunched over a woman; sinking my fangs into her flesh; drinking my first blood.” Alistair had to pause to empty his mouth of saliva. “The first blood is always the sweetest.” He explained to her. “After that I remember my Sire. He was there when I drank my first blood. He had never left. He explained to me what I was and I… I’ve gone too far. The moment you indulge in your first blood; that’s when the process is over.” He ended abruptly. “Next question.” He added blinking the memories away.
Post by Rae-Star Berii on Nov 25, 2012 6:50:34 GMT -5
She listened; letting her mind process the information as it came to her. He was a victim himself, stalked by another and turned. She was almost annoyed when he stopped himself from speaking, when he insisted on asking for another question. She had so many now, so many that she could not ask because it would be a waste- and because she could probably find the information out on the internet. Now she had the basics, she would know what she was looking for. It was a shame, really, because she was enjoying the story and did not flinch when he spoke so ecstatically about his first drink.
She paused, and gave him a moment to collect himself. Rae was currently reminded of a book she had once read; “Interview with a Vampire” by Anne Rice had been a book she had studied at school. They had to compare it with Bram Stokers “Dracula” , it was amusing really, how the novels were both so wrong and yet so incredibly right about such things they had never understood.
What should she ask now? That was the real question that buzzed through her mind. She did not want to waste her questions and she did not want to ask him more about something he had stopped himself conversing. Despite the fact she was keen to know. Finally, after what felt like a moment too long, she spoke. This time her voice was shy, and her fingers stroked the barrel of her gun absently; suggesting she was nervous. “Is it true you can take your victims to the edge of death but not kill them; that they know the feeling but do not die?” She asked him, quietly, not wanting to seem perverse.
Post by Alistair Crowsly on Nov 25, 2012 7:39:50 GMT -5
He’d been devastated. That’s what he’d stopped himself from staying. He could still remember just how devastated he had been. It was the end of his life; the end of everything he knew; and now he had to be something else; something different; never to lead a normal life. Frankly it’s the closest thing a person can get to being told they are dead. It is like being dead; your future dies; you will never again see the ones you love. If he didn’t know any better Alistair would liken it to hell on Earth…
But he knew better now. Being a Vampyre is just another life. It’s like a second chance no longer limited by mortality. He had been freed from the dredges of common life. He was beyond humanity now. Alistair had to tell himself this. He was too young. The wound was too fresh. Just thinking about it had shaken his faith more than it should.
He was snapped back to attention when she began fingering the gun. She stroked it lightly. What was she thinking? Nerves, perhaps? Or was she considering shooting him. He had to be on his guard. She wasn’t his friend. Most likely she was some Hunter in training. He wondered how many supernatural’s she had killed. He wondered even if she had killed any? He had killed Hunters before. He had the experience. The odds were in his favour…
“Is it true you can take your victims to the edge of death but not kill them; that they know the feeling but do not die?”
A personal question; nerves indeed. It was a silly question probably born in that erotic notion people seemed to have about Vampyres. That was really only the silver-tongues. He’d always suspected this whole Cultural Revolution where Vampyres became a sexual thing as silver-tongue funded propaganda but he had never found much proof of it. Then again the silver-tongues never got caught doing anything.
“Yes,” He answered before adding “If I were a Doctor. What they do feel is a sharp prick on their neck and a slow withdrawal of warmth from their whole body. They feel every organ shut down one by one as they drift off into an eternal sleep. It is a slow but not exceptionally painful death. If you gave them a blood transfusion very quickly after their heart went down I suppose you could do what you suggest but why would you?” He gave her a moment to reflect on the information before adding "Last question."
