Specter needed some air. He had only been at the school for a day and it was already getting on his nervers. It wasn't that the school was a bad place or anything. In fact he rather liked the set up, but it seemed everywhere he looked people where using their powers for the most petty reasons. All the time they could be developing their powers, and these people wanted to play baseball. Not to mention that nobody seemed very concerned about a strange man walking in off the street with no memory of his past. The only thing Specter did know was that the ID in his wallet told him his name was Marcus Ravenous, and that he had a few hundred dollars to go with it. Not much to go on at all. So here he was walking through central park trying to clear his mind when something caught his attention. Specter wasn't sure what it was, but this strange building with the works Medium on the window pearked his intrest. He knew that he never did like these types, scam artist making aliving off of other peoples sarrow. Why not have alittle laugh and make these jokers really start believing in ghost. "Ello is anybody here?" Specter called in as he opened the front door hearing alittle chime go off and looking around at the odd decor.

God...the shop was a mess. Tarin chided himself again as he put some elbow grease into cleaning the counter that hadn't been cleaned since Lee had left. Lee was back now...at least tentatively and Tarin once again felt a sense of purpose in his life.

There was also the hope that he could find some help...so that what had happened over the last few weeks would never happen again. Tarin pushed the thoughts away though, thinking about those things only brought memories of blood soaked beds and looks of disgust on the faces of people he cared for. That didn't help anything because it only brought on depression...and Tarin had way too much to do this day to dwell on the horrible things he'd done when the spirit was in control.

The bell over the door jerked Tarin out of his thoughts and as a voice echoed from the front of the shop he tossed down the towel he'd been using to scrub the counter and made his way in that direction.

"Hello...yes, we're open!" he called out...ignoring hte fact that he'd used the word we're Lee wasn't back in the shop yet after all, but it felt right.

Out into the front of the shop Tarin went and into something that seemed to be out of one of the Highlander movies. A young'ish man stood there with long flowing white hair, and he was actually wearing a leather trench coat. Not the type Tarin was used to seeing in the shop.

The first thing that occurred to Tarin was how wrong it was to assume something based on a persons' physical appearance...but if he'd have been a betting man...Tarin would have doubled down that this guy was another mutant. People in leather trench coats with scars and flowing white hair simply didn't grow on trees.

Wiping his hands on his jeans to free them of the cleaner that was lingering on them from the cleaning in the back room, Tarin walked forward and held out a friendly, if slightly cautious hand.

"Is there something I can do for you?" he said, glancing around the otherwise empty shop, "As you can see business isn't roaring at the moment so I could see you immediately if you wanted."

Specter wrinkled his nose in revoltion as the shop keeper held out his hand. It wasn't that he minded the kind gesture. It was just that the cleaning product stunk, and Marcus really didn't want to get any on him. Faking intrest in the shop Specter moved past the man looking around at the odd curios ocationally stoping for a closer look. "You are sooth sayer yes? A person who reads fortunes? I have some intrest in the subject from the mother land, and wish to see diffrence in American version." This of course was a complete lie, or so Marcus thought. With the loss of his memory it was hard to tell, and that explination might have actually contributated to his code name. "How much for reading?"

Tarin regarded the man in front of him as he declined the handshake. It wasn't anything particularly stunning, his hands were dirty and the man had obviously seen him wipe them on his pants. Tilting his head to one side at the wrinkle nosed expression on the other man's face Tarin listened to his comments and questions and followed him with his eyes around the shop.

Registration was over, but it still felt slightly odd to Tarin to completely out himself to a total stranger when he was alone in the shop, he couldn't help a slight snort and a shrug of the shoulders when he was called a sooth sayer though.

"Yeah...something like that...the true fact of the matter is I can talk to the dead."

There was more, something about the motherland and comparing what he was to see in America to what he'd seen there. One eyebrow rose at that and Tarin wondered if there were others like him somewhere else in the world or if his guest was simply fishing for details.

"Well...I don't know what you've seen before...I don't do much of anything special here."

Rate...going rate for a reading. Tarin sighed, he hated the money part of the buisness...but knew it was necessary to survive in the world. Since the registration act had ended, business had picked up slightly but things were still a little slow because of his drop in effort while Lee had been gone.

"Well...first thing we do is see if I'm even going to be able to help you out." Tarin said, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops and tucking his hands into his pockets. "There's somewhere between ten and fifteen spirits running around in here right now...and if none of them are yours then I couldn't possibly charge you. If one of them is yours we start at twenty bucks and go from there depending on just how difficult the reading is for me. Sound fair enough?"

Tarin kept his hands in his pockets, leaning against the large counter that took up most of the left side of the storefront. It was always nice to pass the ball off into the other person's court. Let him decide if he wanted to keep playing. Either way worked for Tarin... If there was something, Tarin made some cash...if there was nothing hell he got to interact wiht the stranger...and even in New York City you didn't see hair like that every day.

It was time's like these where Specter knew for sure he came from a Russian back ground. If he wasn't the bait and hook line this guy just let out would have surely had him on the floor laughing his head off. What made things worse was the straight lace way the guy was putting it. Sure start with $20 then fake a seisure while the customer is talking to their dead cat, or some other such stupidity, and the guy rakes in $200 a head. Still this was gonna be fun and worth a few dollars if Specter could end up giving him a really heart attack. The only problem was the way this guy kept eye balling Marcus. Probably some sort of Cold War bigget. Well Specter could hadle himself, and this guy didn't look to be much of a fighter anyhow. "Da $20 U.S. does sound fair. Do you do reading here, or need you set up markings first?" Marcus pulled out his wallet making a display of removing the money to show the man that there was alot more where it came from. After all he did want to get his money's worth.

Markings? Tarin tilted his head to the side as he regarded the other man in the shop. More and more he was wondering if this guy had witnessed something that was really of the occult or if it was just someone who, like him, had settled into a niche where they were very adept at fooling people into thinking they weren't what they really were.

"Nope..." Tarin said with a shrug, "Nothing special here. I just do what I do, come on back."

The man followed him through the front of the shop to the table, where Tarin sat down and looked around the shop at the assembled spirits. They'd been relatively quiet throughout the day, most likely due to Tarin's complete lack of attention to them. Now that he was paying attention to them, they came at him in a rush of muttering pleads.

Tarin ran a hand through his hair, wincing at how tender his head was still. Tender where Rupert had pistol whipped him...the black eyes from his nose were almost faded, Tarin looked at his guest and regarded him seriously.

"So...why don't you describe for me the person who we're looking for. My powers don't extend to mind reading..." Tarin said, this time with slight emphasis. There were more than ten spirits roaming around the room, almost impossible to just pick one out.

As Specter followed the store owner into the back of the shop he continued to look around with fake intrest. All the time though he was going through his plan in his head. He would start small stuff that might easily be over looked, and then build up to a grand finally. The only detal Specter still needed to work out was how he was soupse to excape without notice when this was over with, but he'd figure that one out when the time came. For now he would start simply by gently pulling on the guys shirt with his telekintics to make it fell like something had brushed up agenst the other man. Sitting down across from his victum he gently pulled at the back of the guys shirt. As for who Specter wanted to contact he had no clue. With the loss of his memory he had no idea of who his family was or if anyone close to him was dead. "I was hoping for, how you say, general read. It has been a time sense contact with home. Any knowelage would be appreciated."

Something pulled on his shirt...something actually pulled on his shirt. Glancing around at the spirits gathered in the room, Tarin narrowed his eyes, sending a very specific message that if they kept messing with him there would be no helping whatsoever.

The thing was though...none of them were close enough to him that they could have possibly reached out and grabbed his shirt. They were also fervently denying the action...they all wanted help too badly. That left only one option.

Tarin's narrowed gaze moved from the spirits to the man standing in the room with him, "Look dude..." he said, tilting his head to one side, "I don't know what you're playing at...but are you serious about this or not? No more parlor tricks out of you...I'm for real."

Specter was taken back by this sudden outburst. Sure he had been the one to pull on the shirt, but how was it possible for this guy to know that. Marcus didn't fell the normal headache of somebody trying to read his mind so that was out. Plus the way he was being acuused was simply uncalled for. Still Specter had to hold his anger in check. It wouldn't do just to attack who hadn't actully thearten him. "Sorry, I know not what you mean. I have done nothing to desirve such words." It was best to play dumb for now. Maybe Specter had been wrong earlier about this man being a bigget to Russians. He could just as easily be a Mutie hater, and with Specter's white hair it wouldn't take much for some low life to jump to conclutions. "If you wish not to provide service you need only say. If you can not provide service then I ask refund."

Tarin sighed, the guy was going to play dumb. Spirits rarely lied, and none of the ones in the room were of the variety that found it an easy thing to do. It had been the man in the room with him, Tarin was sure of it. Now that the registration act was over, there was no reason to hide, or be exceptionally careful.

Shaking his head slowly and heaving another slow sigh, Tarin locked eyes with the other man. "I don't have any problem whatsoever doing business with you sir. It's just that you're not being very helpful. That's fine though. I can accommodate."

As he stared at the other man, Tarin's eyes started to change. Before long they weren't brown anymore, the irises had faded to a milky white as Tarin laid his arms on the table, lacing his fingertips together and looking over them as the spirits in the room grew more and more corporeal, solid. Their voices could be heard now as well. This tended to convince the most skeptical of clients that Tarin meant business. He was still selective in who he showed, but Tarin had a feeling, and if he'd learned anything it was not to ignore his feelings.

"Now...if you'll be so kind as to tell me if you know any of these dead people...we'll go from there."

Now this was an unexpected development. Specter was sure that this man had been a fruade, but as the spirits started to appear around the small room his instinces where now of an ambush. Teanching himself in ready to counter an attack Specter's eyes quickly darted around the room calculating odds and battle stratgies. However when it became clear that this was a showcase of the man's talanets, and not an attack Specter relaxed slightly letting out a sigh. "My apology sir. I have no liking for fakes, and had thought only to teach one a lesson. I knew not that your talent where true." Standing Marcus removed his wallet and grab $80 placing it on the table infort of the man. "For trouble caused." Then turning his back to the room he began to leave. He would have to be more careful from now on though. It would seem the school he attended wasn't the only place to house his kind.

Well now Tarin was just puzzled, the guy had come in simply on the basis of exposing him as a fraud? Tarin couldn't help but laugh a little at the turn the encounter had taken. Then the guy was dumping money on the table and leaving. Dammit.

Rising quickly from the chair he'd sat down in, Tarin followed the man out of the back room, grabbing the money as he went.

"Hey, wait!" he called out, making his way forward and holding the money out to the guy. "I can't fault you for trying to keep people from getting scammed...and I can't take your money for simply proving who I am."

Tarin frowned slightly and regarded the other man again, "I'm Tarin Brooks by the way. The shop was dead...excuse the pun...you didn't waste any of my time...really...I can't take this."

Specter stopped and turned as Tarin ran after him. Even though his prank had been a bust he now felt slightly better than he had entering the shop. After all his main reason for the prank was to help clear his head, and he felt that this had been accoplished for the time being. As Tarin tried returning the money and introducing himself Marcus wasn't sure how to respond. "Marcus Ravenous, you keep for advertizing yes?" Marcus pushed the cash back at Tarin. He truelly had no need for the money as the school seemed to easily provide his basic needs. "You are mutant, no? Maybe I come again for talk." Marcus wasn't sure why he was being so nice to a guy he had just meet. After all talking with the dead didn't seem a really usefull ability to him, but atlest this guy was using his powers. He didn't shrink or hide what he was as Specter had notice some others doing. "It was, intresting, meeting Brooks."