"Okay, Andrea... you can do this. You are a mature adult woman. You can handle a meet and greet."

Her stomach was saying another thing entirely, though.

This was a... special case. She was used to visiting spaces with shared faiths and philosophies. Places where she might receive a few odd looks, but be welcome nonetheless. This place was apparently not the same. Generally, someone else, one of the other volunteers, would have been tagged to go in and deal with this group. Andrea was possibly the worst choice among all of her fellow charity workers.

The church she had been sent info about seemed to put a lot of back community it served. She loved that, but...

It was apparently also a mutant free zone. The email has mentioned that the church appeared to cater only to 'humans'. Nothing was explicitly stated anywhere for them being some kind of hate group or anything, so the Greek still felt comfortable at least extending the olive branch. Her organization had funding pulled from multiple donors through the city and that funding was often spread throughout other organizations that shared similar goals. Feeding the hungry, housing for the homeless, financial help for the poor, food banks, etc.

She just hoped dearly that having the file handed off to her hadn't been a horrible mistake.

"You have got this. Easy peasy."

She had sent an email as a forward for her venturing by so that she wasn't just showing up out of nowhere like some ghost from the shadows.

She did decide to wait until the tail end of service so as to not intrude upon the church and its people entirely, let herself in and found a nice corner to stand in while the priest was speaking to his congregation. She balanced a bouquet of marigolds in the crook of one arm, delicately arranged in a glass vase with a pale white bow and a little card from the company, and a small cello wrapped basket of various fruits in the other hand.

She noticed a few, uh, looks, from those close by and shifted awkwardly on her feet. Even dressed modest-business casual in a sweater/sundress combination and with her hair and snakes fully back in an intricate braid she could not have stood out more. There was indeed not a single visible mutation present.

She was going to give Carol an earful for this injustice later, assuming all went well.

It was a long assumption, that all would go well. Still, as far as low hanging fruit was concerned, the sheep upon their doorstep was a more concerning one. More a snake in sheeps clothing. One that might be just as dangerous to he and his ilk. He knew her. She'd known him, in what felt like a past life.

This encounter would be difficult, he'd mused quietly during his sermon planning as he read the innocent little E-mail. He'd considered cancelling service, but had decided against it. He would not hide from this snake. Those close to him were aware of her impending presence; he'd allowed to impending meeting to inform his sermon. Indeed, as she entered he was speaking to his flock to bolster them against the wicked of the world.

His grating voice rang out to the attentive crowd, "Behold, I am sending you out like sheep among wolves; therefore be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves." He spoke to them, quoting Matthew 10:16 before closing his book, and scanning the crowd. "The world will bring us all challenges. Encounter the impure with peace in your heart, and the wherewithal to do the most good. I trust that you all will do what is right when given the choice... And if you find the pressure ever too great, and find yourself in lapse... Well, there's always confession." This drew a small chuckle from the congregation as he folded his arms in front of his waist, one hands still clutching the well worn bible with countless bookmarked pages in it. "Thank you. We will return after a short break for open prayer. Do be sure to think of a few things to thank the lord for as we pass around collections."

There was some small confusion in the front row as they broke during service; it wasn't wholly abormal to do so, but more often he was the type to push through without breaks.

He'd spotted her, though. Standing in the back of the room. As the crowd started to stand in order to head toward restrooms and leg stretchings, he eyed a young one of the faithful clenching his fists and stepping toward the woman. He was quick to intercept, placing a hand on the young man's shoulder and smiling kindly. "No need to fret, my son. Toss not a stone when the other cheek can be applied." He winked his good eye, and turned to head toward the woman.

It seemed, however, that she had caught the attention of another...

She didn't have to wait long.

He'd been so dedicated to what he was preaching that she had actually gotten drawn in a bit, and had considered leaving the gifts and little card on a nearby table to not to impose on any more of his sermon. But, just as she considered it, he seemed to call for a break. What perfect timing!

Before she could from her next plan of attack to make this as punctual and quick as possible, a familiar face appeared and caught her by surprise.

"Mr. Levonyan!" She didn't bother hiding the surprise in her voice and waited for him to finish walking over to her all the way before juggling the things in her arms a bit to offer him a gloved hand to shake. "Fancy meeting you here!" The Greek smiled and it lit up her face with a warmth that had been lacking moments before with all her nervousness.

"Ms. Gordon. This is the last place I ever would have expected to run into you. What brings you to this corner of the city?" He eyed the flowers and gift basket with quiet interest. She blushed slightly and juggled them again to keep the flowers from tipping.

"A few in the Org brought up the possibility of offering funding for the church to help with all of the community events that we've heard about. It's just wonderful what I've read about!" She was familiar with Garik in a professional sort of way. They had run into each other a few times here or there at various charity functions in the last few years, and he had become one of the few donors who spent quite a chunk of change on helping fund a few of the things her org specifically did. He seemed kind if a little unnerving sometimes, and with the occasional glimpse of a temper. Andrea just kept herself at a nice, safe neutral distance from him with her very best representative face on.

"Ah, I see. Well, your information certainly isn't wrong. Father McCallen always seems to have his hands full with some humanitarian project or another."

The Greek glanced around at the few people looking their way, some openly talking behind hands. She even caught a few headshakes! Oof.

"So I have heard. Carol passed along the dossier to me only two days ago. The rest of the volunteers were predisposed with other engagements and the director was really pressing to make contact sooner rather than later. I do so hope I am not imposing too much? Do you think I am?" She found her eyes trailing back to the nearby table.

Garik, wisely perhaps, didn't comment on her question but reached out to gently touch her closest elbow in order to take the basket of fruit from her. Andrea might have flinched just a little. He could really be too much in regards to how much he seemed to like touching her in various ways. Every event was a little touch at the elbow, small of the back. He'd squeezed her arm gently once and she'd felt like a goose being prodded to see if it was plump enough yet. It didn't help that he was always strangely" absent when Erik happened to be with her.

"Here, let me help. It's the least I can offer. You might want to just drop these off. Father McCallen will probably be finishing up here soon and I'd hate to see you have to stand around again."

She let him take the basket from her, noting there was no offer for her to sit and filing it away for later. It could have been for various reasons, anyway.

"Oh. Thank you! I must seem quite silly standing around back here, then. Than you for the advice."

An older man cleared his throat from behind Garik, and the middle-aged businessman turned to regard him. His elderly father waved him back over toward the pews.

She was talking to young Eisley's father. Interesting. When had he started consorting with such people? No doubt a biproduct of their attempts to appear more charitable and productive members of society. Even so, he made his way to the senior Mr. Levonyan to check in, and glean any details he could.

It appeared the elder also disapproved of the conversation, as he expressed as the both glanced his way. The pastor was quick to turn his back toward the woman, though. Her presence lent him a rare sense of unease. She may be a thread one could tug on to unravel all that he'd worked so hard to build here ever since the... flame, and the gift that god had given him. Soon the son was approaching as well.

The man set the basket down on the table before the father, who looked down at it as Garik muttered under his breath. "The snake comes bearing fruit..." A smile came to his mutilated features, and he reached out, placing a hand on the other man's shoulder, before patting it, and turning to walk toward the waiting woman.

Best to get this out of the way. "Greetings, Ms. Gordon. I must say, I was surprised to see your E-mail... I hope our service was enlightening to you." What did he have on her... how could he prevent her from exposing him? Surely she was here to threaten him, or at least try to find out why he was here.

He still wasn't sure how she'd figured him out, either. How many knew? Could he burn them all with righteous flame in order to continue his crusade? He smiled softly as these thoughts raced through his head as he drew nearer to her.

Garik left and Andrea left the wee bit of tension in her shoulders leave. A new figure approached and she piped back up, ready to slap that same friendly smile on her face and spew out what she had prepared to say... but...something marvelous happened and distracted her. A familiar feeling washed over her as he drew closer. Her serpents went strangely still in her hair, which had shifted into a light golden brown color. The world snapped into all sorts of colors, and she was very aware of various sensations on her skin that weren't usually there.

"oh!" She shifted an arm to look at pale, creamy skin and blinked. "How wonderful!"

And just like that the rest of her nervousness left her. She loved people with his power. Honestly to a shameful degree. It was distracting enough that she forgot what she had been about to say, or what he had said to her at all, as she turned and tried to catch a glimpse at her suddenly long brown braid.

After a beat, she realized how rude it was to just leave him hanging and she turned back to the Father with a light pink dusting on her cheeks.

"Ahem. Oh, do please excuse me. I get so distracted when I encounter a power such as yours Father McCallen. I am simply fascinated by it." She had spied him from afar and already noticed his unique scarring. The medical professional in her had already inspected it to the best of her ability, labeled her best guess at a cause, and filed it away. Her eyes didn't linger on his old wounds as she shifted the vase in her arms and removed her sunglasses from the bridge of her nose. Instead of striking orange eyes, pale blue ones appeared. A light dusting of freckles on her nose and cheeks and a delicate pink tint to her lips made her look like an entirely different person aside from bone structure.

"It was a wonderful Service, Father. What I heard of it, that is. I could tell you have a lot of passion for what you do."

She cleared her throat and lifted the vase of marigolds a little. "I really must apologize for such short notice, and, well, also for me/." She chuckled and resisted the urge to look around. "It was not my intention to make anyone at all uncomfortable, but I was unfortunately the only volunteer available to come by. Markus, the head of our org, was quite insistent one of us stop by soon so that it didn't get buried under paperwork."

Oh, she was... talking too much.

"I certainly don't want to eat up your time here though, while you are in the middle of something so important. Would be possible to schedule a meeting at another time to discuss the possibility of us helping to fund some of your charity work? or would you perhaps prefer communication via emails?"

He watched with some small surprise as she transformed as he drew near. It bore him but a moment's pause, as somewhere deep he lamented the shame that such a beauty was so cursed to be the snake that it truly was. He approached further, his eyes wideneding a bit as it dawned on him.

Here she was, celebrating his gift from god, elated, and not on an inch of her face as a mark of recognition. She had no idea who he was. She even called him by his real last name, not the one he'd used when she was a part of his plans to punish her kind. Before the holy flame had clensed him. He cheated his more damaged side toward her to keep up the lack of recognition... Of course... He had changed so much, why should she recognise him?

"It is a gift from god, my child... I thank you for your fascination. I do, indeed, have much passion for what I do. Thank you for the fruit spread."

He tilted his head a bit, and rested his gloved hands on his bible once more. "Ah. Well, I must admit now that this church is entirely self funding. While we do have our... more generous donors, most of us chip in for our own share as well." He smiled kindly.

"I think your money may be best served with those who are struggling." He nodded firmly. "I thank you, though, for your group's kind offer." I'll not take your tainted money, thank you. In fact...

Yes.

He decided then and there, that she was going to be the next hunt. They had been sticking to the less noticable, but why not go for a more high profile target?

"Perhaps, though, we can keep in contact via E-mail should a need arise?"

There was a fondness on her face that she didn't bother masking in relation to what his power had done to her. "I am sorry if that comes across as immature. I truly do delight in being able to see myself like this, so much so that I am afraid I bother the few others I know with gifts such as yours just a bit too much for their liking."

There might have also been a little spark of sadness in her eyes as well as she looked at him, but it would need to be searched for to spot it. "I have been this way before I was born, you see, and while I have gotten quite used to it over the years it is nice being able to peek at what might have been in a different life." She sighed lightly, "But, God often works in mysterious ways and as they say 'Trust the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding.'... no?"

She shook herself of thoughts that were trying to turn slightly melancholic and smiled. It was lovely feeling nice little even teeth in her mouth for once.

"That is neither here nor there, though, and I didn't come here to talk your ear off. You are busy with your flock, so I will see myself out."

Instead of offering him a hand, as she might have done for another, She turned and set the vase and flowers on that table she had been eyeing before and then gave the Priest a little farewell wave.

"If you change your mind, or might know of anyone else who could be in need of funding for humanitarian goals, I have tucked away my information inside the card with the flowers. Alternatively, if you prefer, I have also included Markus' information with the gift basket, and a pamphlet that explains a bit more about what the Org would offer. Have a good day Father Callen, and thank you for your time."

She turned with that and made her way to the door, pausing only momentarily when she felt her skin tingle for a moment, and then the familiar cool, dampness seep back in. A look at the exposed skin on her arm proved she was back to being green, and a moment later the wriggling of her snakes came back full swing. Sloth curled up to tuck himself under her chin and her professional smile warped with just a twinge of sadness before she slid her sunglasses back on, pushed the door open, and saw herself all the way out.

Back to business as usual.

He maintained the innocent smile on his scarred face as he watched her expression closely. There truly was no recognition on her face. She apologized if she came off as immature. She did. It was a perversion of his gift that she enjoyed to be around it. He kept smiling.

"I apologize that I often find myself with little spare time, or I would offer my presence in the future." She mused forlornly about how she may have been in a different life. He saw her for the creature of envy she was, speaking the word of god but coveting the humanity that he and his kind had. He decided then and there what he would do.

"Indeed."

He gave her a brief wave, his white gloved hands, and turned his attention to the vase for a moment as she spoke up one last time. An offer to reach out should he reconsider. No chance. He reached out to pluck the card from the vase, nodding, and speaking out. "Thank you, Ms. Gordon. Be safe out there."

He turned away, making eye contact with a young woman from across the church, who was staring right back at him already. Good. He had some planning do to, and it seemed as though his newest acolyte might just be ready to act for the cause.

A week passed and the brief, tension riddled meeting was out of mind the second she reported back to her co-workers about how it had gone. Her hands were washed of it, and she was back into other things. A week of very long, stressful shifts at work. A week of cuddling and soaking up as much time as she could with Erik. A week of other volunteer opportunities... the list went on.

As it were, this particular evening, was one of those opportunities. She had her largish rolling cart all filled up with ready-made meals, various flies for shelters and services in the city, and a bundle of assorted clothing items, sanitary items, and toiletries to hand out along her normal route.

She was an hour in so far and had an hour to go still before she was due back at home for dinner, and then an overnight shift for work. She was 12,000 steps in according to her phone and her coffee had long since gone cold.

Passing 3rd, she did start to notice something a little... odd.. going on. There were hardly any people on the street, and those that were strewn about seemed to be occupied with other people in groups. Though she noted that she didn't recognize any of the groups she passed as being from places she was familiar with, she didn't dwell on it. She moved along without even stopping, moving further down the street- which was emptier than it should have been, but failed to set off any warning bells.

“For behold, the day is coming, burning like a furnace; and all the arrogant and every evildoer will be chaff;" The sound of something splashing into a liquid, and lifting out could be heard. The smell of gasoline, tucked deep into an alley in the city. Black gloves prevented the dripping liquid from soaking into the skin of the hand holding the freshly wetted wick. The gritty voice muttered to itself as the speaker toiled away.


"and the day that is coming will set them ablaze, says the Lord of hosts, so that it will leave them neither root nor branch. But for you who fear My name, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings;" The bottle was set to the side, fully prepared as the masked figure glanced at a pocket watch, nodding and clicking it closed as he recited further. The act was prayer, but the words themselves, were also important.

"and you will go forth and skip about like calves from the stall. You will tread down the wicked, for they will be ashes under the soles of your feet on the day which I am preparing, says the Lord of hosts" It was time. His people would be blocking the street from either side. There wouldn't be many witnesses. His escape route was well planned, and his planted distractions would also serve as false witnesses.

The only sign that something was off would be a sudden shifting toward a humanoid form again as the woman neared the alleyway entrance. He could hear the cart approaching. It was, indeed, time.

The cart stopped, a sign that she was reacting to being in his holy aura. He grabbed the bottle from the alleyway floor, and quickly stepped out. In one smooth motion he ran the back of his hand, with a steel bladed plate on it, against a rod attached to his wrist. Heated sparks sprayed out, and the wick capping the bottle immediately ignited. In that same movement he flicked the lit bottle underhand right at the wicked woman's face.

The shattering of glass would be heard, quickly followed by the whooshing of flames, and the smell of burning flesh.

There was a tingling on her skin. One she recognized, but couldn't quite place at the moment seeing as she wasn't expecting it out in the middle of the city. She stopped, lifting a hand so she could confirm the change of her skin with her own eyes. Movement caught her attention from the corner of her eye. She turned and caught the barest glimpse of a shadow before her eyes zeroed in on the bottle rapidly approaching her.

Was that fire?

It hit. The glass didn't really make a sound as it shattered against her until the pieces rained upon the pavement. Instantly she registered pain, and heat, and a rush of sounds she wouldn't be able to properly remember later. She briefly recognized that a choked sound left her mouth and she stumbled back, aware that there was fire on her and around her... and then nothing.

...

Someone had spotted it at some point and the police had been called. The fire department showed up as well and as the small blaze was extinguished officers kept any curious onlookers back as an investigation began. There was a body within the remains, charred and black looking beneath melted synthetic fabrics. An abandoned cart was close by filled with various things.

Proper authorities who were able to deal with bodies and very obvious crimes showed up and started poking gently around the remains, categorizing and labeling everything as they circled in toward the body.

One lifted a bit of the burnt fabric to get a closer look at the victim... and it moved.

The "body" groaned, shifted under the scraps and ashes, and a large white snake slithered out slowly from the debris. Six other large serpents started to move as well, and then a green arm shifted. Bright, perfect skin, in perhaps an abnormal shade, lay beneath the burnt clothing.

Andrea had come too, and as she slowly pulled herself up from her prone fetal position on the ground she attempted to gather her wits.

"--Ma'am?"

She blinked, getting her feet under her and standing fully. She felt better than she had in a long time.

"... uh... Ma'am? Are you alright?"

The Greek turned her head, briefly aware of the lack of feeling her hairbrush against her shoulders. There were men and women standing all around her and for the life of her she didn't know why. She lifted a hand to touch her hair, and only felt smooth skin and snake bodies. All her hair had burned away...

"Uhm..." She was confused. What had happened? Why was she...? A cold breeze blew past and she shivered.

"Would... would you like a coat, ma'am? You are butt ass naked right now. I really gotta insist..."

She looked down.

"Wha-" She was, indeed, fully nude.

Andrea, the Greek who had somehow survived an attempt at incinerating her, pully passed out again right on the spot.