Megan wasn't the type to get easily shaken up by things... but this? This was a different case. Icy blue eyes locked with exact duplicates. It only took the lifting of her fist, to plant all of her knuckles into the mirror. It shattered, a cob webbing of cracks and mirror images, she let fly a curse that would make a sailors ears bleed. This time everything was turning out differently. Gawain's words echoed in her ears, taunting her, and she shoved herself away from the sink, sporting newly sliced up knuckles and an attitude that was only getting worse.

Of all the times before, all of the jobs she had cycled through, all of the cities she had lived in... He had never gone to such lengths. He had stalked her, haunted her cell phones and various email addresses, and even been the root cause for her getting fired more than once! ...but he had never killed anyone. She thought back to the party, closed her eyes and rested her head against the tile on her bathroom wall. She had no proof... but she was damn sure it was his fault.

When had things changed? First the break in's, now someone was dead. What else didn't she know about? The twenty four year old sighed, flexing her injured hand, and stepped away from the wall. Maybe there was something to what the gender shifter had said... Maybe this was out of her hands, and she should go to the cops. Go to the right people, for once in her life. Megan brought her hand to her lips, sucking on one bloody knuckle as she turned back toward the sink and lifted a hand to open the mirror. Her eyes locked on her face again, twisted a little by the fragmented glass, and she froze.

A plan hatched in her mind. A weird... possibly quiet crazy plan. She found herself chuckling at the idea, more than believing in it. "If only I could be someone else, right?" The hair around her shoulder shifted, and a few pairs of little blue eyes peeked out, eyeballing the mirror and their mistresses bloodied hand. She heard their silent questions bounding around behind her eyes and frowned. Yes, she was bleeding. Yes, the wound would heal and she would be fine. She would be left with little scars, most likely... but that wasn't much different than the scars that littered her body already. Blue eyes dipped, eyeballing the sprinkling of dot scars. They were what made her unique, really. The twenty four year old blinked, and her eyes rose to inspect her face again. All of the angles in her jaw and cheeks. The way her eyes slanted... the color of her irises. All of those things made her stand out. They made her Megan.

Her frown returned, and deepened. As long as she looked like this, she was a target. As long as she looked like she had back then. The idea floating around in her head didn't seem all to crazy, now that she thought about it. Change her appearance, and she wouldn't be Megan anymore. Searching her face, she started to pick apart the various things she would want to change.. like her hair, or her eye color. Hair was easy enough... she did that for a living... but it also wouldn't exactly make her look like a whole new person. And eye color, she could always take care of that with contacts. That just left her... face. The bone structure... the flesh. Her lips pursed, and she reached out and opened the cabinet the mirror was attached to. Inside she had all of her hair supplies stored. Sparing her bloodied hand but a glance, she snatched up the nearest pair of scissors and shut the door.

"Good bye, hair..."

She didn't stop until the sink was full of dark clippings, and her head was feeling much, much lighter. When she finally stopped, she glanced at herself in the broken mirror and scowled at what she saw. Hair that was shaggy and jagged, and barely long enough to fit into tiny, pathetic pig tails. Her unbroken hand raked though the mop, pulling out small clippings with it that she had neglected to brush away. It was a messy boys haircut, at best. Not something she would have ever seen herself sporting.

Not while still alive, at least...

And yet here she was, staring at her own tom-boyish reflection. Practically growling. The scissors were slammed down, and she knelt to sift through the cupboard under the sink. Somewhere under there she had stocks of dye that she had pilfered from work... and buried within those stocks she had a bleaching kit. What was the farthest thing from black? Bleach blonde white. Trent had always complimented her hair color, so, just like the length, it had to go too. Spotting the large baggie that held everything, she grabbed it and rose, tossing it in the sink with the clippings. Her bathroom looked like a warzone, hair and dripped blood everywhere. She ignored it all, and powered on through. Another of her prideful attributes needed to be destroyed...

The concoction of chemicals only took minutes to mix, but it took a full on hour for the goop to set in and for her midnight hair to start fading. Three hours and two showers later, she found herself once again before her mirror. Yellow, dirty blonde hair shot out at odd angles around her face. Wet and brittle from the harsh bleaching. Her lip curled, and she eyed herself. She looked... less pale. More fleshy and more angular. But she still looked like Megan. She eyed the tattoo peeking around her neck, and the many scars that decorated her shoulders. More conservative clothing would have to be worn in order to cover those...

A line of black spiders of all varieties sat against the back of the sink, watching her as she poked and prodded at her face. They didn't understand... as usual. Their mothers actions often confused them... but they could at least sense the distress providing the power behind her strange behavior. Megan's eyes dropped from her reflection, to a magazine sitting in the floor. It was covered in hair and half a towel, but she could still make out what it was. A tattoo magazine. She had brought it ages ago, before deciding to hold off on getting any more ink slapped onto her body. Bending, she retrieved the booklet, brushing off clipping until she could see the cover. She recognized the issue... some actress she had seen on tv had posed for the front cover, letting make up artists slap fake tattoos on her and phony piercings, so she would fit the fashion type.

She almost put the magazine back down, until she spotted the types of tattoos and piercings the woman had, and realized that they made her look more than a little different. She eyed the various things that had been edited into the picture, mostly the piercings on the woman's face, and wrinkled her nose. With nothing else to do... she would have to cut corners somewhere.
The spiders watched as she dropped the magazine, a few things already in mind, and left the room. They turned to each other, passing the spider equivalents of shrugs from one to another while Megan rustled about out in her room. A few moments later she came back with a hand full of metal things, and reached up to open the mirror again.

The brood mother spared her children a glance, a tiny one, as she shuffled about. Her fingers found the box of pins before she did, earning a wince, and she withdrew it and set it on the counter. Safety pins, and big ones at that. A crap ton of them. The twenty four year old lifted one, turning it between her fingers. The bathroom light glinted off of it, and she dropped her eyes to what she had salvaged from her jewelry box. One belly button ring that she had had, and gotten tired of in the span of a month... two nose rings she had never bothered to get put in, and a few regular earrings. Eying them now, she chose the belly ring, and set the others aside. With the needle in hand, she dug back in the cupboard until she found the little lighter she kept stored away. Her mother had always bragged about piercing her own ears herself... you just needed to heat the needle up, then push it through... right?

A little flame flickered to life... she ran the needle through it for a little while, then set the lighter down and grabbed a hold of her bottom lip. Lining the needle up toward the left corner of her mouth, she braced herself and pushed the needle through...

"SONOFAB-" The rest of her curse was cut off by her wild bouncing, up and down, hands pressed over her mouth as she danced in place and weeped a little. Megan wasn't some damned masochist, you know... she hated pain just about as much as she hated ...well, everything else. But she had expected a little needle prick to hurt a lot, lot less! Maybe she had held it in the flame too long...

Sucking her breath in through her teeth, a feral sounding hiss, she lurched back over to the sink and scrambled to get the ring in through the hole she had just burned into her lip. It was bleeding, but not a lot. It mostly just felt like that part of her face was on fire.. With tears in her yes, smudging up even more left over mascara under her eyes, she took another look at herself in the mirror. Yes... swollen lips and bad makeup made her look like an entirely different person... She just needed to find a less temporary solution. Something that unfortunately meant she would have to get dressed, and go do actual investigative work. Gathering up her kids, she stomped her way back out into her bedroom, leaving the mess behind to deal with later.

She donned her least exciting clothing, a dark sweatshirt that did nothing for her figure, and dark jeans, and slipped into tennis shoes. She could almost hear her closest accusing her of betraying it, but had no time to mope around about horrible fashion. That was a part of herself that she would need to change... among other things. The first thing she chose to do was leave a note for Roach, something about how he would need to make his own damn dinner, before she locked the apartment up and jogged down to the street. It was fairly early out still, only around three, so she still had plenty of time to waste at the closest library.

One short, but aggravating drive later, Megan was glad to get out of mid day traffic and into the shelter of a nice, secluded library. Hours passed rather slowly, and Megan found that plastic surgery was waaaay out of the question. Not only would she look horrible, but the prices she had managed to come up with online were way above her pay grade. Who would'a thought that getting a few years taken off your face would cost you your first born AND both legs and an arm? The twenty four year old received a few odd glances as people wandered by her computer, most wondering what the young woman was going looking at those types of websites... others assuming she was a regular under the knife, and wondering who exactly she had gone to see. She even had a woman stop and ask her about it, complimenting her on how she barely looked over thirty five, and how there were barely any visible scars.

Megan chose to leave, after having many colorful words with that particular woman and when security was called. She was tempted to floor the library with arachnids of all kinds, and show that woman what a 'barely over thirty-five' year old could do when royally peeved... but she chose to kick her bike over instead. Less work. Her search had brought up nothing. She was either too poor, or too prideful to deal with surgery. She sighed, and started her bike up again.

Having nothing to do brought her to strange places, most of the time those places ended up being fun. This time, it was not fun. Megan sat straddling her bike, one foot tapping impatiently as she stared out into the empty space before her. She was in an alley, a cluttered, trash filled back alley. And she was waiting from some scrawny pipsqueak to run into some building to find his older brother.

Why was she here again? Oh, yeah... she had run into said pipsqueak while puttering though town, in the process of asking around for back alley surgeons. Yeah... she was kind of that desperate. Enough so that the promise of mere information had her pick up a random stranger and drive him to some deserted building in order to meet his brother.

Joy...

She was already in the process of re-thinking her decision, when the back door the kid had gone through swung open and out popped the kiddo, and some other guy. "You're Ross, I take it?" The kid snorted, and looked as if he was about to say something, before the older fellow cut in. "yeah, I'm Rossi." He strode forward, eyes locked on her bike. Rossi looked... average. Peachy skin, freckles, brown hair. Not a damn thing stood out. His younger brother hadn't been as lucky. From the looks of it, puberty had him fully in it's grasp. "Nice bike."

"Thanks..." Shifting, she crossed her arms over her chest, eyes shifting between the two of them. "So, I heard you are looking for doctors?" He copied her, crossing his arms, and slumped over to the alley wall to lean against it. Megan simply nodded. "...You could say that. Someone who won't charge me a damn fortune... and who preferably won't knock me out and steal all my organs. I kinda need them." Rossi snorted and nodded, while his younger brother shuffled off back into the building. "I know a few people... some are doctors, some only claim to be. How much are you willing to pay for this information?" She saw his gaze sweep over her, the kind that you see in movies when the sleazy villain leers at the damsel in distress, but this guy frowned.....

She wasn't too sure she liked the frowning.... Normally when people give you the eye it's because your hot... not because they think you look like something that died when it got dragged behind a car for a few hundred yards. This guys expression made her wonder if her hair was really that bad... ' Jerk.' She frowned in return, tongue playing with her new lip ring.. that still stung like a b&#@%, and chalked the look up to her figure being drowned in unflattering clothing. Note to self; dress sleazier next time, to avoid wounded pride. "I brought enough... you should probably tell me how much you want, and drop a name... right?"
Rossi's frown deepened, and he shrugged his shoulders lazily. "I charge two hundred." He looked serious, but Megan couldn't help but laugh. "ha! That's funny... but really, how much?"

Rossi's frown turned into a full blown scowl. "Listen, it's two hundred. If you can't afford it, go find someone else to get information from..." Her foot ceased tapping, and she sighed. "One hundred." "One eighty five." "What, you think I have change on me or something? One fifty... I'm not going any higher." Rossi went silent for a moment, face devoid of emotion. Megan eyed him back, tapping her fingers on her forearm. Finally, after a few tense moments he pushed away from the wall and sauntered toward her. "Deal, money first, name after." Smirking, seeing as she thought she had just successfully negotiated a good price, she dug for the cash she had brought with her. The moment it was out of her pocket, Rossi's eyes lit up. "Guy's name is Adonis... don't know where he is, or how to find him. You'll prolly be able to find someone to help you track him down if you ask around, though..."

The cash was already in his hands, so she couldn't rightly take it back without a fist fight ensuing. Still... a name, and just a name? For a hundred and fifty bucks? She'd been had... "...seriously? That's it? You can't take me to someone who knows where he is or whatever?" Rossi snorted, and stuffed the bills into his pocket. "Listen lady... it's dangerous enough out here just selling information. You think I wanna get involved with the people who actually take cake of all the dirty business?" She ground her teeth.. but couldn't really argue. He had a point. His younger brother waddled back into the alley then, in the process of shoving a piece of pizza into his acne ridden face. Megan's lip curled, and she started her bike up again. "Can you at least point me in the direction of where to find these people? I don't want to run around the city for weeks... i'm kind of in a hurry here." Rossi didn't really answer at first, merely held out his hand. With the most exaggerated eye-roll she could come up with, Megan dug for another twenty and slapped it into his palm. "Try down on broadway... there's a guy who's always hanging around down there." he pocketed the cash, and without a word more turned and walked back inside the building with his brother.

Megan couldn't help but feel like she had just been played... and probably given false information...

Broadway. Was. Packed. Never mind traffic, which was unusually clogged today, the sidewalks were crammed full of people. This was why Megan didn't walk around much... so much unwanted bodily contact. Yuck!

Darting around a corner, she eyed where she had come from, before eyeballing where she was going. The alley was deep and wide, and not too far in a number of card board boxes lined the walls. She paused, before taking another step into the alley. What had she been sent to? Was this the right alley? Scratching the back of her head, Megan took another careful steps in. "...Hello?" A soft scuffling sound responded to her, before a shoe came flying out of nowhere and hit her soundly in the nose.

"Ow! What the fu-" She barely ducked under the other shoe flung her way... a complete set it seemed. "Intruder! Doesn't even knock before walking into someone's house!" A deep voice boomed, slipping out from the shadows. "Hey! What's your problem ma-" Yet another shoe, a slipper, of all things, same flying out of the darkness. It bounced off her head and she hid behind raised arms to protect herself. "Go away! You have no manners at all!" Rubbing her nose and keeping an eye out from any more flying footwear, she took a few steps back. What the hell was this guy's problem? The alley wasn't his, it was public property! The other slipper was lobbed at her, but bounced a few feet before her. It landed in a puddle of something dripping off the building next to her. Her eyebrows furrowed and she raised her hand to the wall next to her, rapping her knuckles against the brick softly. "...Knock knock?" After a few tense moments of silence, she heard more shuffling and the voice doomed again. "Ooh! Visitors! Do come in, do come in!"

....really? That had worked? Scowling, Megan trudged forward cautiously. The boxes up front were empty, save for broken things and random junk scattered about.... but the boxes further back were arranged to look like furniture in a living room. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness, so she didn't notice the man sitting to her left until he raise his hands and clapped them together sharply. A light flickered on over head, and a door that hadn't been there a moment before slammed behind Megan sharply. She swung around toward the sound, but stopped when she noticed the man.... and the room she was in. "...Woah." "I know, it's nice, isn't it?"

She merely blinked, and nodded dumbly. The room she was in was small... but elaborately decorated. The walls were being and covered in a delicate wallpaper patters... the ceiling and floor both had elegant white trim... and what appeared to be a small chandelier was hanging over her head. There was tile under foot, and paintings on the walls... and furniture all around. Megan was stunned... nearly speechless. The man simply grinned, and pointed her to a chair. "Please, have a seat." She nodded, and moved over to sit in the chair across from him. The plush velvet that coated the chair felt oddly like stacked cardboard. Her confusion tripled. "...what...is this?" The man chuckled, leaning back in his seat with one leg balancing on his knee, and his hands folded daintily over one knee. It was then, now that she was sitting, that she was able to see him fully.

Man, oh man... was he ever a looker! And dressed to kill, too. A near spotless black suit and tie, fashionable leather shoes and one golden ring on his right middle finger. He smiled and she could swear that she saw his teeth glint like in the cartoons. The guy was tan, and had a square framed face with jet black hair that was combed neatly back. He also had piercing black eyes. She was left speechless for a second time, which earned another chuckle from the un-named man. "I take it that you're presence here means you need something from me?" It took her a moment to process everything, but eventually she caught up. "Uh... yeah. Something like that. I take it you are the guy who can take me to Adonis?" He tilted his head, wiggling hsi fingers ever so slightly, and leaned forward again. "Yes... and no." At her puzzled and slight aggravated change in expression, he continued on. "Yes, I can help you... but no, I am not the one who will take you to find Dr. Adonis."

She found herself drawn to staring up at the light again.... and the walls, and her velvety cardboard seat. "...What is all of this? This wasn't here a second ago..." The suited man nodded, and grinned, flashing those pearly whites again. Megan didn't know if it was possible for her to swoon... but this was as close as she was getting. She coughed, and ignored the fact that her cheeks felt a little hotter. "I think introductions should come first, don't you? My name is Marvin. Might I ask the lovely creature sitting before what her name is?"

Oh, he was good. A little cheesy, but good. "My names Charlotte... It's a pleasure to meet you, Marvin." Marvin hummed, turning the name over in his head. Charlotte... charlotte... Hmm, he didn't like it. He'd think of something else to call her. "The pleasure is all mine, I assure you. Now, about why you are here. I can help you.. but this is how it works. You pay me to hire someone to track this man down for you, and from my fee I pay whoever it is I hire. Regretfully, due to the nature of this work I cannot guarantee that everything will go as planned. Surely you understand what I mean?"

She didn't, in fact, know what he meant. "So... you are saying that I pay you... and then if something goes wrong I'm screwed?" His nose wrinkled in distaste, and he relaxed back in his chair. "Not quite so bluntly. Due to the nature of most of the work I get, I cannot afford to risk putting in the time and effort only to gain nothing at the end. So, to prevent something like that from happening, I must take precautions. There are no refunds after the deed is done, and after finding you a tracker, I will have no part in this job." Megan nodded, if slowly. "Alright... so, how much does this type of job cost?" Marvin's smile returned. "You are lucky you happened upon me first, Charlotte my dear... I only charge a measly five hundred for my part in the task. Others are not so generous. The tracker however, usually gets paid about a thousand. I only hire the best, so quality is assured."

Had Megan been sipping on anything, she would have inhaled it and promptly keeled over dead. One thousand five hundred?! Sweet jesus... that nearly half her savings! She eyed him some more, suspiciously. The fine suit and the laid back attitude made it hard for her to not take him seriously... but that was a lot of money. Fighting back her worries she nodded grimly and fiddled with her hands in her lap. "Alright... how do we do this then? I give you cash, or you like... set up a Swedish bank account or something? ...and seriously, how did you hide this room?" He waved her questions away with a hand. "Don't worry about that, we can take care of those things later, on the day we will set for you to meet your hired help, yes?" She nodded, and shifted in her seat. He was pointedly ignoring her questions... something was up, maybe? "Good. Unfortunately, I have an appointment that I must be off to... How is the, seventh for you? We can meet up again and work the kinks out of our little contract."

He stood and beckoned her to stand as well. Which she did. But she didn't respond, because she was mulling over all of the possibilities of what 'working out the kinks' could mean... "It was a pleasure to meet you, Charlotte, my dear. Until we meet next time." She was at the door before she knew it, and he pressed a kiss to her hand. Her cheeks got just a little bit hotter, and he opened the door and stepped outside...

... and in an instant the illusion vanished. She was standing in a dark alley, surrounded by brown stained boxes and trash... and there was a hunched over old man hobbling off ahead of her, cackling merrily to himself as he limped along. Suddenly... Megan self quite sick. She took one look at the state of his ragged clothing, and his lack of shoes, (not to mention the awful Oder that was wafting off of him) and set about scrubbing her hand off on her pants. God! That thing has kissed her! She watched the balding old man shuffle out onto the sidewalk, before booking it out of there herself.... She was going to comeback, for the job and everything... (if she could even trust him...) but she would be taking a few lengthy showers first.

[To be continued in...]