Certainty and confidence, loyalty and diligence...

[pressthatbutton]

At the waning hours of daylight, a cab pulls up to the Organization's HQ, and out steps a tall woman doing her best impression of a small, harried teenager. She's still got the white wool furred coat on, sure, as well as slacks and low heels, but her hair is slowly falling out of its pinned state, curly locks brushing her shoulders and braving the

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[cyfor]

There's a barefoot little girl in a trench coat staring up at the building, rubbing her arms. She's odd looking--pale skin, gray-white hair, a light-gray almost tabby pattern under her skin. She's muttering to herself.

"Too soon. Too soon. Let down your hair and come again tomorrow."

[pressthatbutton]

It takes a moment of staring at the doors of the building to register that the tiny girl is there, mostly because Katja is too busy focusing all her petty hhhaaaaate at the building itself. But when she does, she marches straight over to Cy, hoping that maybe, maybe, this is one of the little freaks the Organization tends to employ (ignoring the fact that some might feel the same about her) and not some wandering passer-by.

"Excuse me," she says, then...stops. She hadn't really planned farther than that. Now what? 'Excuse me, do you work for the same shadowy organization I do?' That'll get her far, regardless of whether this small, strange little child is O or not. "I...need to get into that building."

Laaaame. Oh well. Whatever. She can work on her snippy little remarks when she's not ass-tired and in desperate need of a shower. Or booze.

[cyfor]

"Doors and windows won't let you in," she says. Cy blinks and eyes Katja, like she didn't realize who she was talking to. "I can hear the whispers from here. Hear, here, hear the heroes hurry off to war. Got what they wanted, what they think they wanted, but they're going to get more."

[pressthatbutton]

Katja stares in exasperation. Yes. Of course she would run into the craziest crazy of them all, and not only run into, but initiate conversation with. Of all the days...

She purses her lips a little, turning her stare at Cy into a glare at the building. "Afterhours, then. You'd figure a place like this wouldn't have those. Or would at least have the decency to let me have the back door key." She's mostly muttering to herself, now, because it's pretty clear that Cy is not her welcoming committee.

[sinsofskin]

Out of the Organization HQ steps one Leona Sandric, who didn't particularly want to be here and won't be here long. She prefers her own Velvet Rooms to this place, honestly, and if she hadn't had business, she wouldn't have been here at all. As it is, she's planning to go somewhere and kill someone. Doesn't much matter who or where.

The door closes right behind her, and she finishes the task she was engaged in - digging out a clove cigarette and lighting it, glancing past Katja onto the street where her car would be waiting if her goddamn driver had any sense of timing. No car. Well, then.

"As architecture goes it's not the best," she says, blowing a billow of smoke out between her teeth and only glancing at Katja. "Trust me, you want an eyeful, check out some of the stuff on the coasts."

[pressthatbutton]

Katja snorts a decidedly unladylike snort. "More the doors I'm interested in, and getting through them," she says. It would be a snarl, but she really doesn't have it in her at this point. Really, she'd just like some booze, and then a good 48-hour-or-so stretch of sleep.

But hey, someone living that came out of the building probably knows either how to get her in or get her somewhere where her needs can be met. "I don't suppose there's any way I can get in? Or, at least, find myself a permanent address and talk to the head honchos tomorrow?" Katja gestures with her carry-on vaguely at the building.

[sinsofskin]

Leona's eyes narrow for a moment. Well, there's a bit of lip - of course, any one of her boys or girls would have a description of her, at least, and would be a lot more cautious about exactly how exasperated they let themselves sound.

"So what's your trick?" she asks, flipping the clove in her fingers and offering it, butt-first. "There are a few of us having a late night. Might be able to point you in the right direction." Or get you a key to the Estates, but these boys ought to know enough to provide for their employees. I can't always be sweeping up after them.

[pressthatbutton]

Katja takes the clove a bit gratefully, though she's careful not to take too greedy a pull on it -- not hers, after all, even if she'd been hoping the other might offer it.

"I put the biological in warfare," she says. At this point, she doesn't care for subtlety. At all. None caring. Not that she cares for it at other points (at least in dialogue -- her subtlety's in the poison). "Among other things, you could say. I was supposed to be here hours ago but a piece fell off the fucking plane, so at this point, I'd be happy just to get my key and go fall over."