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The air was damp and cold, the darkness of the night pressing in upon the scarlet-skinned narcissist. It wasn't the first time he would do business at such an odd hour-- and it would not be the last. Much to his chagrin, Khalil often worked in the shadows, surreptitiously setting buildings ablaze, or making opponents go bye-bye with a silencer and a small piece of metal.

Tonight was different, though the familiar weight of a gun was still tucked between his stomach and the hem of his pants. Rather than staging some sort of coup, he was delivering ambrosia to a dealer. And rather than working alone, he had company. His sheet of black hair had been fastened into a ponytail, and his outfit was mild enough-- jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket. All black, all fitted.

He knew better than to question Poseidon's directive, though he was not above reminding the boss that his specialty was destorying evidence-- not making deals.

"We have a handful of new additions," Poseidon had said dismissively, "And this particular recruit needs a little more training. See to it that you teach him properly."

The two of them strode down the street, not necessarily in the nicest part of town. Most businesses, having closed for the night, had grates or sliding metal doors pulled tightly over their entrances and locked. Just the fact that they were out at this hour, was questionable.

"This your first run?" Khalil asked casually. They hadn't spoken much thus far. Most people were none too pleased to work with the narcissist, and thus gave him very little leeway conversationally, "Or have you gone on other runs before?"

By 'runs', he meant running errands for Poseidon, of course. Neither of them were running. They were walking. Briskly.

>> "No, that's actually more or less what she looks like. she has a physical mutation. Kind of like... a giant mantis shrimp."

"Dude," Gina said appreciatively, "I foresee... a lot of stretch-knit tops..."

The shrimp's forearms were freaking huge, there would be no way that they could fit their arms through anything less than a moderate stretch knit armhole, without... someone like Javier to assist them, that is.

>> "You make your own clothes?"

"Sometimes," Gina said, with a smile, "Mostly I just modify them though... all I really need is tail-holes and wing-holes, and adequate snaps to support said holes..."

She said this modestly, as though discussing her own alterations was nothing to necessarily boast about. And it wasn't! For Gina it was just a fact of life...

Her ears were still ringing from the landing, the roaring traffic did nothing to help, either. The other girl landed, too, but with a considerably lighter touch-down.

>> "I. Uh. I do gravity. I thought you were a kidnapper so. Sorry. About that."

Gina pressed her hands against her eyes, rubbing her face at the other girls pronouncement. She did gravity, of course she did gravity...

"I guess gravity-doers jumping off bridges makes sense," she murmured. She cracked a smile, even chuckled. It was the sort of smile and laugh that said, 'This is absurd enough. Might as well laugh about it, 'cuz what else can you do?'

>> "I appreciate that you're the kind of person who'd try to save a jumper, though."

"I've never been able to mind my own business," Gina confirmed with a wry smile, "Thanks, though."

Maybe it was the fact that she could fly, that made her more bold and... less concerned about being stuck to the underside of a bridge, once she realized the source was right in front of her. She bent at the knees and jumped. Still, she was gravitated to the underside of the bridge, and trying to jump free did nothing.

"How long does your gravity thing work?" Gina asked. Not that emulating a bat wasn't immensely exciting, but... Gina really didn't want to miss class... She still had time, of course, unless this gravity thing wouldn't wear-off until the better part of a day.

Welcome back~ Love the new character. And your profile, it was delightfully long. <3

Gina eagerly accepted the sketches as Javier held them out to her, trying her best to crinkle the pages. If she did, though, she couldn't help it! She was so excited. The person in question seemed buggy in appearance, broad across the chest, narrow in the waist, and with enormous forearms.

"Is this a stylized sketch?" Gina asked. It was a reasonable question-- their proportions were wild. Some fashion people drew all their designs on stick-figure people... maybe Javier was one to exaggerate physical mutations. But... if he wasn't... then Javier's friend would need some radical alterations, in human-clothes.

Her tail swished, "I haven't really done anything except for myself," she explained. And a few commissions online, but really only because Nessa's reputation had given her a spurt of internet fame.

Gina wore an outfit befitting drinks at the pub with your big brother-- cropped jeans when ripped knees, a loose black shirt and an olive, military-styled jacket. Her hair had been wrangled into a messy bun, curls fighting to get free of the tie that held them. Gina wasn't exactly a pub person (she liked clubs, with dancing and fruity drinks) but she'd jump at any excuse to hangout with Joey, particularly if drinks were on him.

Gina landed at a nearby park, walking the few blocks to their designated meeting spot. Joey wasn't hard to find. Six foot tall, and leaving a wake of tittering girls in his immediate vicinity. Gina trotted closer, her tail flicking excitedly. When she was close enough to be within earshot, she called out to him.

“Hey, stranger,” she all but sang, “Can you direct me to McSorley’s? I'm terribly lost!”

She grinned at that and, rising on her tiptoes, kissed Joseph upon his scruffy cheek.

“How've you been?”