"I'll put a note in our system about it. Thank you for the warning."

Mike nodded, satisfied and assured that she would do just that.

Noin answered the phone, and said something unimportant Mike wasn't really paying attention to. He was deciding whether or not to possibly exchange his brown leather loincloths for brown pleather. Real leather cost more, thought that was no problem for someone like him, but it was more supple and felt better... That was a dicision for another day, however, as a techie who was obviously nervous about Mike's tail approached with a box. He opened it, revealing a watch, a necklace, a ring, and a phone.

"These are the current communicator models," he explained, glancing somewhat nervously at the newest Kabal member's tail "they each function as what they are, of course--the watch keeps time, the phone makes calls, the necklace and ring... are jewelry. Yeah... Umm, so take your pick. The watch is a new model--the Order started recognizing our old one. We'll be making them custom for each member from now on, to prevent that. Don't know why we didn't before, actually." He laughed shortly, dragging his eyes away from the imp's pleasant little stinger. "Just keep in mind that you have to have it with you at all times; if you don't want to wear a watch 24-7, then don't pick it. ...Yeah."

Mike noticed the man's nervousness around his tail, and, just to freak him out a bit, reached over with it to hook the ring onto the barb, before taking it off and putting it on his finger. "I'll take lucky number three."

"I recommend anything but the necklace," Crow commented off-handedly, leaning causally against the counter. "Personal preference, of course."

Mike laughed. "That much is obvious. A necklace would only get in the way during a fight or a flight, a phone is kind of hard to keep a hold of when you don't have pockets, and I just don't like watches."

"Hello, you must be our newest member, welcome to the Kabal. My name is Kitra and what might yours be?"

At the sound of a voice behind him he subtly shifted his stance so that he could spring in any direction, behind the desk, behind Crow, over the top of the woman behind him, whatever. Realizing from her speech that she was a member of the Kabal, he relaxed slightly.

"Kitra, a wonderful name." Mike kissed his fingers in that particular italian way. " I am Micheal Everto Malum Iuguolo Montierre, known in the underground as Imp, for obvious reasons." He bowed elegantly, his tail doing a small salute against his brow.

((ooc: No prob, Kit! Glad to see you postin' again. )

Ignored.

The red headed young woman who wandered her way in through a door very near the caterwauling one was not unfamiliar to Chimera. Let's just say that she was a dame that could get a guy in trouble, especially if the guy's name was Calley, and he hadn't grown either a backbone or the ability to sprout feathers yet. The crow man, however, should have been unfamiliar to her. Indeed, his own black eyes caught no hint of recognition in her green eyes as they briefly glanced his way, then settled on the jumpy imp on the desk, who'd just acquired a nice new ring.

>> "Hello, you must be our newest member, welcome to the Kabal. My name is Kitra and what might yours be?"

>> "Kitra, a wonderful name. I am Micheal Everto Malum Iuguolo Montierre, known in the underground as Imp, for obvious reasons."

The finger kiss, the bow, and the tail-salute all rose Mister MEMIM further up Chimera's esteem. The fact that the young woman with the wonderful name wasn't acknowledging him... that, there, rankled a bit. Not that the crow was vain. He raised one claw-fingered hand, and smoothed down the feathers on his bare chest.

"Kitra. You're one of the older members of this fine organization, aren't you?" He tilted his head casually at her from where he leaned on the desk, one black eye giving her a slow toe-to-top look over. Not in a crude manner: more like one would size up a potential rival, or a piece of carrion. "I'm Chimera. Thanks for asking."

Kitra smiled graciously, "Why thank you Mr. Montierre. And I can see the reason for your other alias of course." She smiled once again at the small imp before turning to the crow man. As she did however, he had already started speaking.

"Kitra. You're one of the older members of this fine organization, aren't you?" He tilted his head casually at her from where he leaned on the desk, one black eye giving her a slow toe-to-top look over. Not in a crude manner: more like one would size up a potential rival, or a piece of carrion. "I'm Chimera. Thanks for asking."

Kitra blushed slightly and courtsyed, "My apologies Chimera, as I saw Mr. Montierre filling out the paperwork, I had realized that he must be new. Therefore I extended greetings to him instead of doing what I should have done. That is to have greeted you both." She took a small breath, then let it out, knowing full well that her cheeks were still a flushed red. Kitra extended her right hand out to Chimera to shake (hopefully), "Perhaps we can start again? Chimera, how do you do?"

She wasn't sure if this would really help her or not, but with that look Chimera had given her earlier, well Kitra had felt like she was being appraised, as a sack of meat.

>> "My apologies Chimera, as I saw Mr. Montierre filling out the paperwork, I had realized that he must be new. Therefore I extended greetings to him instead of doing what I should have done. That is to have greeted you both. Perhaps we can start again? Chimera, how do you do?"

The blush and the curtsey showed that she realized just what a silly mistake she had made by overlooking the individual in the room to whom the word "preening" most aptly applied. He deigned, therefore, to shake her offered hand.

"I do--"

A door opened. Another lab technician stuck his head in. "Doctor Ingram says--"

What the crow man did and what Doc Jimmy said were two subjects that would forever remain a mystery. A door opened. The first time a door opened, it had been from the vehicle bay; the first lab techie. The second time, from the hallway nearer to the cafeteria; Kitra. This time? This time, it was the main door. Front and center.

The cat barricade on its other side crumbled into a pile of fluid fur, and flowed through the small openings around and between the man's legs. In a flashing of tabby, tuxedo, spotted, and blue-gray fur, their wave crested up over the counter.

The look on the imp's face would remain imprinted in the crow man's mind for a long time to come. He did not fight: he did the wise thing, and put his super speed to use. He ran. The front door was open in a flash. The wave of cats broke over the counter, and rolled onto the floor. It swept out through the door.

The sounds that followed were even more distinctive.

Noin Mortman shook her head slightly. "Speedsters," she said simply; "they always exaggerate their agility."

And many people underestimate the agility of the common house cat.