Adrian Smith's Story

She was impressed. Other than her parents and some members of her gang, she'd never once met anyone else who could speak French with such proficiency - especially not a Class One. She wondered how he'd known she was French; Juliette was not an uncommon name and there were many non-French Juliette's and Juliet's. She'd seen him placing a small, strange-looking device in her side pocket, around it were a pair of unusual strings. Was it a tracker of some sort? A bomb? A weapon? Why would he give her a weapon? No, surely it was poison that would eat away at her limbs and render her immobile.

"Vous pouvez être capable de tromper toute la classe III; vous pouvez même gagner leur confiance et les plier à votre volonté. Ils sont désespérés et vous êtes l'espoir, mais je ne suis pas aussi facilement influençables tels qu'ils sont. Vous êtes né un démon et tu mourras un démon, et je ne peux que prier pour un Dieu inexistant que votre vie va se terminer bientôt," Juliette snarled, her emerald eyes glowing in anger. You may be capable of fooling all of Class Three; you may even win their trust and bend them to your will. They are desperate and you are Hope but I am not as easily swayed as they are. You were born a demon and you will die a demon, and I can only pray to a non-existent God that your life will end soon.

Five minutes later she was handcuffed to a chair, her wrists clamped firmly onto the handles and her ankles to the legs of the chair made of steel. She was quite sure the entire thing was attached to the floor itself. Wires connected themselves to her body - to her temples, fingers, toes and some other more tasteless areas - electrocution wires, probably. Tthe remote rested on the opposite end of the table, mere inches from her fingers, taunting her. Her piercing green eyes snapped upwards to stare into one of the cameras that rested in all the corners of the room. Juliette grinned at the people watching her from a "secure room." A double-glazed, bullet proof glass window rested on one side of the wall. Although Juliette could not see the other side, she knew they could see her.

"We have two remotes," boomed a voice from invisible speakers. "One for your interviewer and the other for us. If you so much as move a fraction of an inch - you will be electrocuted. The voltage is high and the current low, meaning you will not die for a long, long while. If you continually fail to comply, we will increase the voltage to encourage your obedience."

They were speaking to her as if she were a dog.

"Why, I'm honoured you took the initiative to put such measures in place. Perhaps you might even be capable of creating souls for yourself one d-" Juliette's words were cut off by her own scream as electric needles pierced through her entire body, threatening to tear her apart. The pain was overwhelming, blinding, pushing out all of what she was and filling her with searing torment. Her spine jerked upwards before she fell limp against the electrocution chair.

"You will also be punished should you speak out of line," said a crisp, professional voice curtly.

"Bite me," Juliette snarled before her body convulsed involuntarily as fire ripped through her muscles. She bit down on her tongue, trapping her screams in her throat.

"Who do you work for?" the voice asked. Juliette rolled her eyes - they knew whom she worked for.

"Starbucks - don't you remember me? And I thought your iced cappuccino and I had a special connection." Juliette waited for the electric shock but nothing came. "Tired of using your manicured Class two fingers to press the button already?"

"Just the contrary," the voice said before knives tore at Juliette's being - it felt as if she was being put through a paper shredder. "We were just increasing the voltage. Now, let me rephrase that question: Who is the leader of your little gang?"

"This seems like overkill for a 'little gang,' don't you think?" Juliette asked before muting pain silenced her words.

"What is your name?" the woman on the other side asked.

"Bond. James Bond," she ventured. James Bond had been one of the only movies she'd ever watched in her life. She'd been barely six then and a projector was brought to Class Three as a little "treat" in hopes of eradicating the protests for equality.

"If you continually refuse to comply - the electrocutions will eventually kill you," her tormentor explained.

"Great. I was getting a little sick of my overcooked eggs," she said sarcastically, gripping the chair tightly as another round of electricity pierced through her spine. Beads of cold sweat trickled from her forehead as she forced herself to stay still - she would not let them see her tremble.

"Where are your headquarters?" the voice asked again.

"This really fancy, useless building in Class One that could feed a planet," Juliette said sweetly.

"You will not work with us," spoke the speakers. It was more of a statement than a question. "A detective from Class Three has come for you. If he fails to convince you to do what is best for Trinity, you will be executed." The buzzing of the speakers was abruptly silence - leaving Juliette in a world away from home.

As Johan exited the infirmary he was instantly told about the girl who had apparently OD'ed. He walks calmly toward the lobby where the girl was. It was his experience that when a doctor seemed panicked everyone panicked and mass panic was never a good thing. Without even approaching the girl holding the needle he looks to a near by officer and says "Get this girl a suite, she will need to sleep it off." Despite Mac's acting job he could easily tell she was not over dosed. He had seen many over dose patients before, forming coherent sentences was rare. The words he used may have seemed odd but they where common code for a cell where someone potentially dangerous could sleep off whatever they where on. Crack addicts and meth head tended to have a violent side. On top of his experience he could plainly see the multiple marks on the girls arm known as track marks. Judging from the amount of scarring she was a lifetime user. That one tiny little hole where the blood was still lightly coming out would likely only be enough to get her high, not risk her life. By his estimation it would have taken multiple syringes full to actually risk anything.

He had seen this multiple times before, a drug addict 'seeks medical aid' in an attempt to get medical grade pain killers. The signs where clear to anyone with enough experience. Having helped people in the second and third for so long he had learned to see the signs. He couldn't dose her with anything because that was what she was looking for, a fix. The con had only ever worked on him once, after that he noticed it right away. As a group of officers went to pick the girl up off the ground and escort her to a jail cell for a night or two, Johan moved over to Adrian. He waves a greeting "You look.... clean." he said as a half joke to the man, meaning both physically and chemically. His eyes wandering up and down the man to further enhance his words. Johan had always been careful with his words around Adrian, tip toeing around subjects expertly so as to not give away Adrian's habits. "I hope you guys aren't too hard on that girl I just patched up." His genuine concern for her coming out. Adrian would know Johan is a bit of a softy whenever anyone was in danger of being hurt and the police force wasn't known for being nice to criminals from the third.

As he waited for a response his left hand went up to his right bracer, he seemed to grab hold of it and massage the arm a bit. Most would think he was scratching an itch brought on from wearing the bulky leather arm guards. No one but those in his family truly knew why he wore the eye sores. Though his sister did a fantastic job of making them look stylish, he refused to take them off. Most thought they had some sentimental value, a few rumored that he was constantly on mind increasing drugs and the bracers where giving it to him constantly throughout the day. Many rumors flowed about the odd accessory, but none had any real substance. Not even Adrian's detective skills could deduce their purpose, causing most people to just chalk it up to a rich man's eccentricity.

“Hello, Ma’am."

Juliette scowled, giving the man before her the full pleasure of her Trinity-shattering glare. She struggled to keep her head upright rather that rolling over her shoulder and dropping to her chest. Her body felt like jelly; les démons might as well have taken a spoon, dug it into her flesh and eaten her. She doubted that would hurt more than these dreadful millions of knives shredding her insides and bursting against her skin. Her body was too small to contain all the pain.

“I hear you’ve had an eventful day. Mind telling me about it?” the detective asked calmly, holding himself with so much ease in the torture chamber. She wanted to scratch his eyes out and rip his vocal cords from his throat with her teeth. She hated him; hated him as she did everyone else in this terrible Hell-hole of a world. The dark haired man before her lit a cigarette in his mouth and held one out to her. Juliette's eyes sparked, bursting with barely controlled fury as she fought to keep herself from decapitating him. She'd have failed, anyway. Was this man mocking her? If he truly was from Class Three, you'd think- No, she didn't think that. It did not matter whether they belonged to the same district or otherwise. Other was other and the fittest survived. At that moment, he was the fitter of the two - and she despised him for it.

Juliette lifted her full lips into a grin. "In case you haven't noticed," she began, wiggling her numb fingers. The metal cuffs that attached her to the chair dug forcefully into her wrists, an angry red welt bursting from beneath the cold metal. "My hands are tied, figuratively and literally speaking. Unless you're willing to place it in my mouth and help me suck on it?" she mocked, fighting the growl that begged to be set free. This detective was not worth an ounce of her anger. Juliette breathed in the comforting scent of tobacco - her one and only trusted companion. Well, that and every other drug and alcohol in the world. Those were the only things you could trust. They'd stood by her through the weight of the sickening, heavy bodies, and the days and nights of agony and humiliation.

"mon cher détective," my dearest detective, she purred. "The sharing of one's day is generally a pastime reserved for those who are friends or family, is it not? I'm afraid - last time I checked - we were neither friends nor family."

"Answer his questions," the speaker-voice warned. Juliette exaggerated the rolling of her eyes as she stared pointedly at the camera.

"Patience is a virtue, enfant," she said, quite certain that the woman on the other side did not speak French and would not know Juliette had just called her a child. Pulling her green eyes back down to the detective before her, she wiggled about, as if making herself comfortable. "Now all we need is dirt, the dying, disease, filth, drugs and prostitutes to make it feel like home. Ah, wait - I believe we have the last." Juliette tugged at her expression, forming a lazy smirk as she batted her thick eyelashes at the man before her. "I don't suppose you'd be swayed by what I can give you?"

"This is your last warni-"

"Such impatience," Juliette tsked. Turning her attention back to the man before her, analysing every inch of him before staring into his eyes. She did not recognise him but that was no surprise - so many people died each day in Class Three that she no longer kept track of who existed. "The police chased me, I ended up in Class two. I was shot - thrice? - and fell off my hoverboard. Then, I ended up in this lovely hotel," she said simply, gesturing around the room with a tilt of her head. "The creepy doctor patched me up-" Juliette looked down at her unmarred body. "I think. Maybe he implanted a bomb in me. So, I ended up here. I was electrocuted about a dozen names - same old, same old. What about you, detective? How was your day? Good, I hope?"

Juliette had leaned forward against the cuffs that held her in place, but now she leaned back and gave the detective a slow smile. "What's a handsome man like you dealing with les démons? Unless you have a secret love for sadism?" Juliette turned her head, so she looked through the glass wall and into the world outside, even though she couldn't actually see through the tinted glass. Still, it was unnerving when she looked the woman who'd been talking through the speakers right in the eyes. "Lucky for you, I happen to appreciate sadomasochism."

"Good," the voice said firmly before the woman clicked her magical button and sent Hell through Juliette's body. Juliette laughed, tilting her head back against the metal chair.

"You can break me down if it makes you feel right," she began singing. Despite the slight manic tone to it, she had a heartbreaking, breathtaking voice. "And hate me now if it keeps you alright. You can break me down if it takes all your might 'cause I'm so much more than meets the eye." Juliette's voice was rather breathless, yet feminine and honey-sweet. If she'd not been strapped to a chair with a grin on her face that said she knew something you didn't, one might've thought she was a singer on a stage. But she wasn't - she looked to be a broken doll pieced together to form an abstract piece of art. Perhaps that was what living in Class Three did to you; what being raped as a helpless child did; what being electrocuted a dozen times did. It made you mad and yet, more real that anyone or anything else in existence. It made the world crystal clear and perhaps too much so, until all you could see were the solidified demons that lived in the light, shadows and dark.

"Any more questions?" she asked abruptly, tilting her head to the side in an eerie, doll-like way. She watched the detective with her keen eyes of emerald green.

As the doctor looked at her, Mac sadly realized that he was too experienced to believe she was OD. She bit the inside of her cheek and glanced at the room he just came from. She could just barely hear the buzzing of electricity. Oh, great, they're torturing her. Beat me to it. Alexander is going to be pissed if I don't get to her gang. She thought, hopelessly. All of a sudden, she felt two cops start pulling her into a place where she could sleep off the drugs. "Shit," she said aloud. They led her to a room, but Mac was scanning the police at her sides. She saw they both had keys, tasters, and guns. She took the keys off one of them and slipped the cool metal into her pants. Just as they were pushing her inside, she was able to grab the taser off the other. They locked the door and she looked around. Nothing in there but a bed. She looked at the door and shook her head. There was a lock on the inside. This must have been one of those rooms the cops had to lock themselves in when they were interrogating or something. It wasn't a regular cell. She pulled out the keys and tried the few that were on there. Once she found the right one, she creaked the door open, very slowly. She looked down the hallway and didn't see anyone so she made a break for it, and began running.

She found an emergency exit and slammed the door open. Instantly, sirens and lights went off in the building. She would have been afraid, but the meth was counter-acting that. Her boots slammed through the alley way and somehow she got herself lost. "I don't know how many cops they have, but I bet a lot of them are going to be looking for me," she whispered, all the while her grin still plastered in her sweaty face. She glanced down at her hand to see that she still had the taser. "This should help, but I lost that girl. Oh my God," Amaco said. She shivered and began walking through the back alley ways. They weren't as filthy as the ones in Class 3, where she spent a lot of her time when she wasn't at the head quarters. There were cheap drugs there, and she knew someone who would give her the easy stuff for free. Stuff like oxycodine, and other strong pain killers. She pushed the thoughts from her brain and kept walking, looking for an outlet to the normal street. She peeled off her hood and threw it on the ground. She decided that if she had any hopes of hiding from the cops, she would need to look a little bit different. SHe pulled her hair back in a messy bun and looked down at her pants. There was no changing those, or her boots. She shrugged and broke out into a jog, finally seeing some nicer paved roads in the distance. Suddenly, she heard sirens and a cop car passed by. From the sound of it, it seemed like they had stopped. she hoped at the entrance to another alley. As she neared the corner, she saw that she had hoped correctly. There was a store right in front of her and she ran across the open road and pushed the door open. She picked out a shirt and a long flowy skirt and brought it to the counter.

"Is this all?" the man at the counter asked her, with a rude glance.

"Yeah, how much?" She asked him, searching in her pockets, hoping she had left some money in her pants. When her fingers found the paper, she smiled.

"4o." He said.

"Damn, how much for just the skirt?" Mac said when she realized she didn't have enough.

"20, don't you know how to read?" He asked.

As she handed him the money, she rolled her eyes. "No, I'm from Class 3. I barely know how to count." She lied to him and pulled on the skirt, over her jeans. Because it was loose, it looked fine. She was a bit annoyed, but she would just have to deal with it. She stalked out the door and began to wander around the streets, looking for her bike. There was no way she could stay here any longer. She would have to wait it out a bit, maybe go to Class 3 and search for the Crimsons herself, without the help of this girl, who she didn't even know what she looked like.

((Didn't mean to tag Adrian.))

Everyone was officially insane.

Juliette resisted the urge to drop her jaw and gawk as the Class Three detective sat on his bike, his eyes on her. She blinked slowly, her green eyes looking up to see the sun before quickly looking away, narrowing her eyes at the blinding sparks of light that pressed against her retina. It was not often one saw such blue skies in Class Three - the district was always covered in a haze of smoke. Not to mention the atmosphere was always so gloomy, the sky would look black even if it was blue.

She looked into the man's warm chocolate-brown eyes and realised he was waiting for her. She looked down at her free hands, red welts circling her frail wrists. Food was not easily available in Class Three and she was as slim as a willow tree or a model, her body so fragile in appearance, it seemed as if she would break with a hug. Not that she'd ever received a hug. The others in Class Three knew she could not be so easily broken, however, for she was subjected to things much crueler, vigorous and violent than mere hugs. She looked at the detective before her for a long moment before walking gingerly over to his bike. She'd never seen such a strange contraption before.

Poking the seat, she quickly pulled her hand back to her chest. "What is it?" she asked, looking at the man who'd possibly just saved her life. Pursing her lips, she slowly did what the detective had done. She swung her leg over the strange, soft, cushioned seat and cradled the bike, her legs pressing tightly against the man before her. What did this strange thing do? Was it a vehicle? Not knowing what to do with her hands, Juliette placed them in front of her, between her legs. She did not trust this man and he probably wished to sell her to the black market. Why else would he save her? But she had no other choice. Her hoverboard was ruined and she had no way of knowing how to return to Class Three. She did not even know where she was. This man was dangerous but he was her best bet.

Several nauseating minutes later, the world was tilting. It turned out the strange piece of metal was a motor vehicle, a terrible one at that. It was utterly nauseating and Juliette felt as if she would soon hurl. Luckily, she'd not eaten since... She didn't know. She groaned, collapsing against the detective as the bike cruised into a stop. She did not even know how to get off of this silly thing.

The words 'Broken Tooth' hovered above heavy double doors. Juliette furrowed her brows before looking at her possible-saviour, possible-kidnapper. "I do not have any broken teeth," she said.

When they were inside the large and strangely clean building, Juliette's eyes searched the place as her nose sniffed the air. This place smelled amazing and all that food... "Welcome to Broken Tooth, table for two?' came a cheerful voice. Juliette jumped, habitually reaching for her gun but instead grasping thin air. She cursed inwardly, realising the authorities would not have allowed her to keep her weapons, obviously. She eyed the oddly dressed woman to a booth of sorts. "Please, have a seat," the woman said, watching Juliette as if she had two heads. The Class Three girl had been staring at the table and benches for quite some time now. "Miss?" the waitress repeated again. "Are you alright?"

Juliette nodded curtly before slowly edging onto the bench. She gasped at the softness of the cushions and the existence of the cushions. Everything in Class Three was hard, mushy and dirty. This place was clean. The woman placed two long but thin books before them before edging away, but not without throwing Juliette some confused and curious glances. The waitress walked over to her co-worker, Colby, and whispered in his ear, "There's this really funny girl over there. It's like she's never seen a restaurant or food before. What a weirdo."

Meanwhile, Juliette stared at the 'Menu' before looking up at the man before her. "I don't understand," she said. "Do people simply look at food here?" Why did the woman only give her pictures of food, rather than actual food? Juliette looked around, seeing the plates of food on everyone's tables. "Is it because we're Class Three?" she asked. Nodding, she decided she'd answered her own question - the answer was yes. Juliette fiddled with the button-up, light blue shirt she wore. Being Johan's, it hung loosely over her smaller frame, the sleeves falling well past her fingers and the bottom edges of the shirt covering most of her thighs. She held her sleeves up to her nose and breathed in the lovely fragrance. Why did it smell so nice? Perfume, perhaps? She'd never seen perfume before but she'd heard rumours that everyone in Class One wore some. Did Class Two's wear it, too? Holding the soft material to her smooth cheeks, she decided even if she disliked Johan - she loved his shirts.

"What is your name?" she asked the detective before her, although half of her attention was still on the shirt. It was so lovely, soft and clean. It made her wish to take it off right then and there to prevent her dirtiness from tainting the purity of the shirt. "I'm Juliette but you can call me Letta, la belle or Jewel." She paused. "Actually, call me Chateau. We're not friends. Why did you save me? Are you going to kill me? Are you a cannibal? Are you going to sell me?"

Johan's phone goes off in regular style when Adrian texts him. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LoQYw49saqc) A song that reminded him of the slightly dirty but at heart good cop. With a quick flick he reads the text and calls up to his driver "Looks like we are going to The Broken Tooth Greg." With a simple nod the man turns them toward the restaurant. "You want anything?" Greg shakes his head "No thanks, Victoria packed me a lunch." Johan nodded a bit and laugh "I suppose you would get grilled if it wasn't eaten when you got back huh." He laughs a bit as Greg gives him a knowing smile. It didn't take them long to get there, mostly because of Greg's skill. While Greg drove Johan inserted a pair of ear phones much like the ones he gave Juliette, he had a passion for music and often enjoyed listening whenever he could. Many would even say he had a bit of an obsession with music playing. Pulling up just after Adrian and the girl he takes his time getting out of the car.

Swiftly he enters the restaurant and with a kind smile to the stunned hostess before he points to the two saying "I'm with them." Walking over he steals a chair from another table, sits down backwards and smiles at the two. "Have you ordered yet?" He comments to both of them, treating them as equals. An action that was rather normal when being around Johan. He was a bit of an oddity as far as first class went, you wouldn't catch most of them dead sitting in a chair backwards or being around a girl like Juliette in a public setting for that matter. He takes a moment to look the girl over and smirks "That looks good on you." He comments idly while they wait for their server. The hostess quickly brings him a menu and he starts to look it over. For some odd reason he seems to be in an extremely good mood. Regardless of the girls negative comments before, it doesn't seem to have phased him. The truth was he was used to it from the 3rd class, they hated him for no other reason than for being born in a richer family. The insults seemed to roll off him like the water droplets rolled off his waterproof cloths. It isn't until one of them speak that he realizes his music is still playing "Oh man sorry." He says quickly and quietly so the conversation can continue. Pulling the earphones out, music would be audible from them for a few moments until he pulls out a small device identical to the one he put in Juliette's pocket earlier and presses a button on it to turn it off.

"You know I think that fake OD girl tried to escape if I heard right. I wonder what she thought would happen when she walked into a police station holding a meth needle?" He chuckles a little, targeting the comment at Adrian. They had both seen some people do some stupid things in their days so he would likely find it amusing. It was as if he wasn't uncomfortable or even out of place in this setting. In fact the only thing at this moment that separated him from everyone else in the restaurant was his over priced cloths which seemed to fade away once he started talking. He seemed as happy to be there as anyone who would be meeting their friends at a bar for drinks. He just seemed to want to wind down. He did however get a few long glances from people sitting at other tables, it likely wasn't often someone from first wandered into this place.

Morgan had been glancing down at the menu in front of her since she arrived, and had been working her fingers through her drenched hair at the same time trying to untangle it. She looked around, seeing more people arrive, but none paid any attention to her and that was alright with her. She looked back over at the waiter that just showed up, seeing him smile slightly in her general direction, and she felt herself blush slightly just from the embarrassment of looking the way she was.

When he came her way, she noticed just how nervous he was, and it was hard to hide her smile. She bit on her lower lip gently, trying to not make things hard on him, or think that she was laughing at him. In fact, it was cute. I feel bad, he must not be up front too often. Brushing her hair behind her ear, looking back down at the menu, she wasn't too entirely sure what she had wanted to even get in the first place, she was that hungry.

"If you guys are still serving breakfast.. can I just get some biscuits and gravy with some orange juice? That will be great." Morgan smiled softly up at Colby, but then paused and added, "And if it makes you feel better, you don't have to say much to me, do what makes you feel comfortable, okay?"

Glancing back around at the doorway, she was a little surprised to see a male walk in and casually sit himself with the first two she saw, and even sit in the chair backwards. Everyone else around her was partaking in conversation with others, and enjoying themselves. This place is really laid back, why have I not been here before with my sister or friends? she thought, biting on her bottom lip, turning back in her seat to fold up the menu and wait on her meal quietly.

"That looks good on you." Juliette blushed, dropping her hands onto her lap, then blushing harder because she'd blushed. She threw Adrian a hard glare, as if to say: you didn't tell me this was your rich friend. Her gaze landed on the strange device the doctor held and had just put away - it looked much like the device he'd given her. Sounds seemed to come from it. Why?

"You know I think that fake OD girl tried to escape if I heard right. I wonder what she thought would happen when she walked into a police station holding a meth needle?" Juliette tilted her head to the side thoughtfully, wondering what the girl had been thinking. Did she wish to be arrested? Juliette could not fathom why. Dimly, she noticed the watchful, curious, surprised eyes of patrons as they took in Johan. She supposed it was strange for a Class One to be sitting with two Class Two's. Half of her was annoyed that others were looking at her doctor, the other half was annoyed he was even here.

"May I take your order?" the waitress asked, earning herself an intense staring session with Juliette's forest green eyes. What did the waitress want?

"Excuse me?" Juliette asked.

"Uh... Your order?" the waitress repeated, gesturing towards the menus before them. "Today's set special is pumpkin soup, shrimp linguine and chocolate mud cake. It comes with a free refill of chocolate, vanilla or strawberry milkshake."

Juliette stared at her incredulously, as if the waitress had just sprouted a second head. "Food?" she echoed.

"Yes, umm... Food," the waitress said slowly. "I'll take it that you want our set, then? Watch out for the chocolate cake and milkshake, though. If you eat too much, you'll lose your model figure and get fat," she said before turning her attention to Johan and Adrian, scribbling their orders down furiously before leaving. Fat? Being fat was a luxury Class Three's could only dream of. Juliette looked down at her own body and decided she'd rather like to be fat. How did one go about doing that? Then, she pondered on the word model. She'd heard of those.

"Are models the people who are paid to wear clothes and walk?" she asked. "What a strange job," she mumbled before reaching into the pocket of her jeans. She watched Johan closely as if warning him to not mess with her; her fingers curled around the small device, pulling it from her pocket. Juliette looked at the device closely, shaking it. "It's broken," she told the men before her. Poking and prodding, noise burst forth from the piece of metal. Juliette jumped, dropping the thing onto the table before her. "Zut!" she cursed in French, dropping her body underneath the table. But it wasn't noise. It was... Was it?

Music.

Peeking her eyes from above the table, she slowly pulled herself out from underneath to sit on her bench, staring at the music playing device. "Why does it do that?" she asked Johan, pointing at the small device as if unsure whether to be annoyed or pleased by it. Gingerly, she cupped the small, transparent device in her palms - it was small enough to fit in her palm. Lights painted the clear glass-metal in familiar squiggles - accursed English. Juliette tapped on the device, ready to hurl it through the window should it show any signs of exploding. But it didn't, instead the light changed and so did the music.

français

Juliette tapped on the lights that spelled out the word and suddenly... The device turned French. Juliette gasped, gawking at the magical instrument. It was surely a gift from God himself! Juliette found herself questioning her atheist beliefs and glancing briefly at Johan, she wondered if he was Jesus. Her parents had been staunch Christians but she was never. How could one believe in a higher power that so dearly loved to watch them suffer? But holding music in her hands, she wondered if goodness did exist - and the device spoke French! She'd not seen French since the death of her mother but she remembered it well. A familiar song came on and Juliette squealed, nearly knocking the empty mug of beer from the table as she jumped in her seat.

"ma mère avait l'habitude de chanter cette chanson," she said in French. My mother used to sing this song. Plugging the earphones to her device, she tucked the buds in her ears as she'd seen Johan do. Looking out the window into some far off place in a different time, Juliette sang.

"Everyone is strange
And everyone has a tangled soul,
Everyone has a humming childhood
At the bottom of a forgotten pocket;
Everyone has pieces left of dreams
And corners of destroyed life.
Everyone has sought for something -
But no one has found it,
No one has found it.

Everyone would have to demand for the authorities
To create a law against loneliness,
So that no one will ever be forgotten -
So no one will ever be forgotten.

Everyone has had a life worth living and people worth living for
But not everyone can remember it.
I can see some that fold and break themselves apart,
And I can see some that can't even see it.
I can see some that see nothing.

Everyone should demand for the authorities
To create a law against indifference,
So that no one will ever be forgotten.
And no one will ever be forgotten.

Everyone is strange
And everyone has a tangled soul,
Everyone has a humming childhood,
At the bottom of a forgotten hour.
At the bottom of a forgotten hour..."

Juliette had closed her eyes, allowing the words to flow from her lips in a bittersweet melody. Her eyes snapped open at the abrupt thud of a plate being placed before her. The waitress announced the dishes, setting each on the table. Juliette pulled her chocolate milkshake towards her and stirred as she stared at the liquid. Chocolate was about as hard to come by as heroine and it might as well have been a drug, considering the availability and addictiveness of it. Juliette took a sip of the drink and had to fight the urge to moan. Sweet, heavenly bliss. Despite her absolute ravenous hunger and Class Three upbringing, she held the correct pieces of cutlery in her hands, taking small, dainty bites of her food. Prior to her father gambling away all of his family's money on Earth, the Chateau's had been quite rich. She'd been taught the proper, lady-like way to eat and she abided by it. It required a ridiculous amount of control to prevent herself from gorging on the food and burying herself in it, but she succeeded. Taking a knife and fork, she sliced the shrimp into small pieces. She wished to savour every bite - who knew when she would ever have anything as good as this again? That was, if she even ever ate again.

Realising she'd been rather rude, Juliette pulled the fork from her lips and looked up at Johan and Adrian. "Umm, thank you."

Mac was keeping her head down, and her face casually turned away from the street. She was conjuring up a new plan, and hoping that she wouldn't fail this time. Just as the thoughts were grazing her mind, she saw the doctor in the police station, and I man she recognized but couldn't quite place him. He looked a bit professional, but she decided to shrug it off. The girl with them was quite beautiful, and that made a smile come to Mac's lips. Maybe she could stop to get something to eat. Of course, she had just spent all of her money. Maybe she could just rest a bit.

She walked into the Broken Tooth and sat at a booth a ways away from the doctor, familiar man, and the pretty girl. She mad sure they wouldn't see her face as she walked by and she slipped into a booth. If she leaned out she could see them, and they might see her, if they ere looking. When a waitress came, she simply ordered a water, much to the waitresses' dismay.

"You have to buy something, we'll still charge you for sitting here," she said to Mac.

"Listen, I'm going to get something. I just need a little time. And plus I'm waiting for someone," the girl replied and gave the waitress a sweet smile. The waitress nodded and bustled away, tending to her other tables. As Mac was Idly staring at the menu, she heard someone singing. It was in another language, and she hadn't the slightest clue what it was. The only other language she knew was Japanese, and she hadn't spoken that since she left her parents house. She scowled at the thought of them, then thought of her two little brothers she never met. Maybe she'd drop by their house on her visit in Class 2, see how the folks were doing. She slightly laughed at the idea, then turned attention back to the singing. She peeked around the corner of the booth and saw that it was the girl who was singing. It was pretty, but it also seemed a bit sad to Mac. The girl's food came, and she was shocked out of singing. Mac turned around again and attempted to think of ideas on how to find this girl. Hmm, isn't it strange there was a girl speaking another language with the doctor and a man who looked so familiar? She thought and started drinking her water. She decided she would have to consider that this might be the girl she was looking for.

The waitress came back and interrupted her thoughts. "Are you ready yet, hun?" She asked and pulled out a tablet she would put her order on.

"I'm from Class 3, and I don't know what any of this is," She said and pointed to the menu. Of course, she was lying. She eve been here once or twice. She said it loud enough that the girl might hear, and if there was a reaction, Mac would think that talking to tis girl would be a pretty good start.

"Then why are you here?" the waitress asked again.

"I told you, I'm waiting." Mac concluded. She didn't dare look over her shoulder, for fear the doctor would recognize her. Of course he would.

Morgan thanked Colby as he set her order down, and was taking a drink of her orange juice when she heard someone break out in song. And it wasn't in English, but French. She didn't understand the language, she was only slightly fluent in spanish, but she knew the difference in the languages. She has a beautiful voice.. she thought, turning her head as she set her juice down, looking back at the girl at the table.

The group looked odd to her, one man was dressed up nicely, and she eyed with curiosity, wondering why he dressed so formal on a rainy day. The other had a beer in front of him, along with the girl, but he seemed pretty relaxed from her view. Her eyes looked back to the girl, and she smiled hearing her song end and she wanted to clap or something, but everyone else was just looking weirdly at the group, some with awe expressions, some that read 'What in world is with these people?'

She heard the group next to her whisper about the formally dressed male looking like he was from Class 1, then the other one looking like he barely belonged in the restaurant, and continued their gossip. So what if they were different classes? It seemed nice to have diversity for once, at least to Morgan it was.

Stomach growling quietly at Morgan, she turned back around, remembering the sole reason she came here for was to eat in the first place, not gawk at others for having nice voices or better clothes. Picking up her fork, she started digging into the biscuits and gravy, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the first bite.

Johan was fascinated by the girls singing, so much so that he seemed to have forgotten the rest of the room existed. For that few brief seconds that she was singing he realized multiple things about her. One she had to have some sort of musical training which was to put it lightly, rare in the 3rd class. Two he suddenly liked that song a lot more. Then finally he was extremely happy to have given the device to such a talented girl. He was now one hundred percent sure she would make good use of it. It wasn't until the waitress stopped by to drop by their order that he snapped out of his train of thought. As she set the massive messy looking burger in front of him the people who where staring before where now dumbfounded. He was after all wearing all white cloths that where made out of fabric the class two's likely only saw in the finest dress' in the finest stores. He even heard a light gasp from a woman in the corner when he picked up the burger haphazardly and took a big uncivilized bite out of the slab of meat covered in bun with bacon, melted cheese and barbecue sauce. After a moment of chewing he lets out a delighted mmmm sound before turning to Adrian "I swear class two makes the best burgers! In first all you can get is these high priced lamb things with no sauce and this flavorless 'healthy' cheese that taste like caulk if they are even slightly over cooked. I swear if these people would just take the extra money they spend on stupid things like that and do something like say buy cans of food for the people in third?! It could change so much. Whoever thought up cheap ground meat, barbecue sauce, bacon and cheese was a culinary genius." He brandished the perfect burger as if to make his point. If it weren't for his statement, his cloths and prior knowledge. One would think he was just another second class citizen enjoying a burger... well I believe 'Noming' might be a better descriptor for what the man was doing as it seemed he preferred the hamburger to breathing for a few moments.

A few moments later he poked his head up looking about for a waiter, finally catching a male waiter's eye he raises a hand to call him over. The massive burger was amazing but the chocolate shake the girl got looked fantastic and both would simply be orgasmic. While he waited for the male to weave through the tables to him he looks at Juliette "You eat like my sister." He chuckles lightly poking fun at the girl while the mental image of his sister eating slowly at the table flooded his head. His brother on the other hand was of a similar mind as Johan, food was meant to be eaten. Not cut into tiny squares, measured, looked at then chewed. They both knew the etiquette and its purpose and followed it when at an expensive important function. Out here however where people didn't need to judge food to eat it, his gloves where off and it was time to eat. Interestingly enough some barbecue sauce did spurt out of the hamburger onto his pants much to the dismay of a certain woman in the corner who damn near feinted, but it seems in the process of making it water proof his sister somehow had made it sauce proof as well. The blob seemed to simply skate along his pants until it hit the floor "Well that was cool..." He says as he watched the blob move, he had originally been afraid his sister would kill him. His mind simply came up with one comment Super pants TOOO THE RESCUE!

"Lovely singing, by the way," the detective said.

Juliette grunted in reply, returning to her pessimistic self now that she was no longer singing. She chewed for a while before looking up at Johan. It was strange how sloppy the Class One doctor was. You'd think they used a million different spoons for each ingredient when they had such an abundance of resources and technology. But this man before her would make even her father cringe, which was saying something. It made her instantly like him a lot more. She stared down at his pants, fascinated by the drop of sauce that slid straight off the material. How she loved his clothes. She'd do anything, anything for his clothes.

"We've never hurt anyone who didn't deserve hurting," she said to Adrian, referring to what he'd said earlier about the gangs in Class Three. "Class Two didn't need all that food. They have more than enough," she said gruffly, before putting down her fork when guilt knotted her stomach. "Little Timmy's never seen pasta before," she mumbled to herself, staring at her plate of spaghetti as if she wasn't sure whether to hate it or love it. She would bring Timmy here for his 11th birthday one day. Somehow. Eleven. God, she hated that number. She hoped life for Timmy when he was eleven would be good. It would be. She'd make sure of it.

"Sink," she said as a way of explanation before she slipped from the booth, walking past the auburn-haired waiter who was heading in the direction of their booth. "Sink?" she asked him. After receiving her answer, she walked towards the sink and gasped in surprise. It was white, pristine and the water was lukewarm. When she'd asked for a 'sink,' she'd expected a leaky, rusted and flimsy piece of metal that half hung off of the wall. This was... A real sink.

Washing her hands, she marvelled at the lovely scent of the pink soap and the wondrous flow of water. Out of habit, she washed her hands hastily, not wishing to waste any of the precious water. Juliette jumped as a piece of tissue dropped down from a box on the wall with a mechanic bzzzz. She took the tissue and wiped her hands, feeling how soft the piece of material was. It made her feel terrible for throwing it away.

"Hey, pretty thing. Mind if I take a seat?" Juliette overheard on her way back to their booth. She stilled, staring as a large man loomed over a fragile beauty with purple-red hair. "You want a drink? A lovely girl like you shouldn't be eating all alone," the man said, bending closer towards the girl and brushing his hands against her body. Juliette stared, her entire body tensed like a coiled spring. "Did anyone tell you how hot you look, baby?"

That did it.

Juliette's father always, always called her baby. It was a horrible pet name for a child he sold and abused. She hated it with a passion, she hated men with a passion, she hated sex with a passion, she hated them all and she sure as hell hated the monster before her now.

"Get. Away. From. Her," Juliette said slowly, in a humming voice more ferocious than if she'd shouted them into his ear.

"If it isn't the little Class Three fountain girl from before," the man said after he'd turned from the red haired girl. He grinned, appraising Juliette's body. She hated his eyes, hated the way they crawled over her. "If you give me some, I'll give you two dollars. You're not bad for a dirty whore," he said with a smirk, reaching towards Juliette to wrap his thick arm around her small waist. Juliette's green eyes sparked with fury as she turned her body to the side, grabbed the man's wrist and lifted it while whacking his elbow downwards. She swept her legs over the man's and he flipped easily backwards, crashing into the redhead's table and breaking it to pieces. She grabbed the man's hand, bending his wrist inwards into a wrist lock. Curling her slim leg around his, she swivelled around to flip him onto his stomach. Untangling her leg, she forced her knee into his spine and twisted his arm behind him.

"If you give me two million, I might consider not dismembering you," she whispered near his ear.

"Miss, I'm afraid you-" a man who looked to be the manager began. Juliette shot him a glare and nudged her head towards Johan.

"I'm with him," she said.

"Oh, uh..."

Juliette dropped the whimpering man's hand, stepping off of him and turning to the red haired girl. "Are you okay?" she asked, the concern apparent in her green eyes. Juliette patted the girl consolingly before hugging her gently, as if she were a porcelain doll. "You must've been terrified." Juliette saw no distinction between rape and sex, they were both terrible, and flirting might as well have been verbal abuse. "You can sit with us," she said, pulling away from the woman and taking her hands in hers. "Those two are asexual," she said, gesturing towards Johan and Adrian.

Tugging the red haired girl away from the destroyed mess of what was once a table, she shuffled along the bench and patted the space next to her. "What's your name, Red?" she asked. "I'm Juliette but you can call me anything you want. Would you like some..." Juliette trailed off, holding up the glass of frothy liquid, unable to remember the name. "Ah... Shaking milk?" The poor red haired girl had gone through a traumatic event and Juliette hoped she'd not be emotionally scarred by it. The terrible man she'd roughened up a little had renewed her dislike for men. It was uncalled for, as she'd been made to sleep with women as well. But men, men were just...

"The ass," she said, gesturing towards Adrian. "The something's-clearly-wrong-with-him," she said, waving at Johan. "It's okay. You can call them whatever you want. They can't hear and be male at the same time."

Mac watched as the man hit on the red headed girl, also very pretty. The girl who Mac had come into this bar in the first place for stood up and kicked the shit out of him, after quite the disturbing comment from him. So she was the girl she was looking for. Mac decided now was as good a time as ever and stood up, just as Juliette, as she had called herself, pulled the redheaded girl into the booth. She walked over to the table and smiled at the girls, ignore the men completely. "Hi," she said simply, and gave a small bow. Despite being away from her family for a long time, bowing to strangers on a first meet was burned into her brain, and she couldn't help herself. "Your singing was beautiful. I couldn't understand a word of it, let alone being to guess what language it was, but nevertheless, it made me want to sing along as well," Mac smiled at her, taking in her long hair and model-like physique, which was hidden under a mans shirt. She bit her lip and her smile turned into something a bit more sensual. She leaned on the table and ran her fingers along Juliette's arm. "I think a beautiful girl like you shouldn't be stuck here with the likes of them," She cooed at her, jerking her head slightly in Johan and Adrian's direction. "I sort of overheard you're from Class 3. I am just heading back that way, I umm, seem to be out of the good stuff," She stole a look at Johan and smirked. She wasn't afraid of what they might do, because she had the training of a Keeper, and still had the taser on her. Plus, Alexander wouldn't let anyone have the satisfaction of punishing her except for him. The first thing she did was wrong was fail to get Juliette, and she knew that she would be in trouble. She swallowed the thought and turned her dark eyes back to the girls exotic green ones. "So what do you say, gorgeous?" Mac asked her, blinked a few times before standing up straight and adjusting her shirt slightly. She flipped the key to her motorcycle between her fingers idly while she awaited an answer. One hand was behind her back, more than ready to grab the taser if Johan or Adrian tried to take her back to the station, she wouldn't be having that.

Colby was on his way to check their supplies of condiments when one of the members of the large group hailed him for attention. It was little surprise that Holly wasn’t around. Now that the food had been delivered, she likely wouldn’t show her face until it was time to give the check. Colby put on a sideways grin and headed toward the large group of people. At least he wouldn’t have to take all their orders. “Hi.” He spoke slowly, doing his best to minimize the stuttering. “Wuh-w-w-what can I d-dd-do ffor you?” Yeah, didn’t work.

It wasn’t a big request at least, just another chocolate shake. He tapped it out on the tablet and nodded his head. “Sure. I’ll b-b-bu-br-bring it out in a j-j-ji-juh-jiffy.” Colby resisted the urge to rub at his left ear each time he stuttered, a habit he was attempting to break. He managed to hold off until he was walking away from the table to help fix the shake. The grill needed Dave’s attention, so items like shakes and drinks all the wait staff tended to get themselves.

“Sink?” The woman who broke out into song caught him before he got too far. It took a moment to register what she asked, and then he was gesturing toward a hall off to the right of the entrance. The restroom sign hung just above the corridor, that was the only place for a customer to wash up. The sink in the back was restricted to the employees.

In just a couple of minutes, Colby was on his way back with the chocolate shake, covered with a generous portion of whipped cream and a cherry on top. Holly skimped on her shakes, took too much work, but Colby liked to make sure people had their money’s worth. “Here you g-g-guh-go.” He set it down along with a fresh napkin, straw, and a long handled spoon. “Enj-jjoy.” Again with the smile, but it faded quickly when there was a commotion in his table area.

He couldn’t contain the groan when the table broke under the weight of the man thrown on top of it. The sound was a mixture of horror, shock and resignation because he’d be the one that would have to clean that up. The sound of something breaking already had Jerry, the manager of the diner, streaming out of the back, sputtering at the sight that greeted him. Colby was moving to get the necessary items he’d need to clean it up, as Jerry moved to the man the young woman indicated she was with. The manager was already tapping away on a small tablet as he directed his words toward Johan. “I will need to know who I can contact to bill for the damages caused here.” Class one or not, this was damage to the physical property of his diner and he was well within his rights to demand they pay for the cost of repairs.

Colby meanwhile was lugging out a bucket, broom and mop to the table. He’d have to actually cart some of the broken bits of the table away after he cleaned up the mess caused by broken plates, spilled food and drink, and shattered glass. He needed to stop thinking that his day couldn’t get any worse. Because every time he did that, it got worse. After snapping a few pictures with the tablet to record the damage, he focused on sweeping up the glass and plates first into a dust pan. It was barely a minute later when another customer came in and sat in his station. Blue eyes locked gazes with the man as he gave his order.

Colby set the broom and dustpan out of the way with a nod as he straightened up. “Sure. I’ll bbb-be rright b-buh-b-back.” He washed his hands, then Colby went about fixing a cup of coffee. Luckily, it was a fresh pot, so it was hot and not stale. It was carried over on a saucer and set down before the man with a sideways smile. “Let m-m-me know if you nuh-n-n-nu-want anything else.” Now, back to clean up duty. Oh joy.

"The ass," Juliette said, gesturing towards Adrian. "The something's-clearly-wrong-with-him," she said, waving at Johan. "It's okay. You can call them whatever you want. They can't hear and be male at the same time."

Morgan nodded, glancing at every both both, still shaken up. She bit her bottom lip gently and remembered that the woman asked what her name was, even though calling her Red was familiar enough since Chelsie usually called her that. "Morgan.." she said, as she sat down beside her, her hands on her lap at she stared at what she assumed was a chocolate milkshake.

"I'm good for the moment, but thanks." She laughed nervously, pushing her hair away from her face, stealing a glance at the table the guy had been crashed into. She felt bad when she watched Colby cleaning up the mess.. I should give him a good tip.. he looks like his day isn't going too well.. she thought, unconsciously rubbing her sides, still feeling that guy's lingering touch. She never had problems with guys before, but it was probably bound to happen at some point.

Turning back to the table, she put on a smile, trying to push the events that just happened aside. "So what are your names.. unless you rather I go by the ones I was given by.. Juliette."

Johan smiles calmly as the new girl joins them and it doesn't go away when Mac makes a spectacle of herself. "Well if it isn't the run away addict! Still fleeing from the police are we?" He exclaims conversationally like there wasn't anything strange about it at all. The manager who had been making his way over to talk to him about damages, stopped and pulled a phone off his hip before dialing. As he watches her expression a smirk appears on his face, "With all due respect dear you really should go somewhere and sleep off whatever it is you are on." His voice held the usual kindness it always did, as if he actually cared for the girls health rather than the odd situation they where in. His left hand was buried in his pocket while his right was resting an elbow on the table. Despite honestly caring about the woman he had learned to distrust aggressive personalities mixed with drug users.

When Juliette had thrown the man into the table originally, Johan had turned to face that direction. Anyone with enough observation skills would have noticed his hand go into his pocket then, it hadn't come out since. To the casual observer that didn't know him they would think he was reaching for a weapon. However knowing him personally you would know he never carried any form of lethal weapon despite his brothers offers to get him any manner of gun or blade. It wouldn't take long for Mac to notice the little red light blinking in his pocket. Being a seasoned criminal would bring two things to mind 1.) it could be a bomb, 2.) it was some form of panic button. In truth it was the latter, multiple police cars had already been dispatched to the building and would be there in a manner of minutes. The device simply transmitted his coordinates and an emergency call for backup. He had found it useful when treating the less fortunate and more prone to violence and crime. While Johan did have a large amount of martial arts and combat training, he was unfortunately not allowed to use it to its full potential due to the Hippocratic oath. So when things got out of hand when he first started his little healing campaign his mother forced him to carry it with him at all times.

In general when Johan was in trouble it was more than one person involved, so the police tended to send multiple cars. Usually 2 or 3, the result would be 4 to 6 officers armed for riot control. The armaments where because one time when he gave the last of his free medicine to a poor woman it cause a bit of a scene with others that couldn't get the same medicine, the following riot had to be quelled by a greater military force unfortunately. So the police came armed for war just in case it happened again. His earlier exclamation had been to get the manager to call the police with the hope that he would get a message to the police before he pushed the button so they could send less serious measures but from the look of the manager he was on hold waiting for a free line. Unbeknownst to the people in the diner, the earlier down poor had created some flooding in a few of the lower parts of class two which meant the 911 line would be used to its fullest for a while. So unfortunately overkill would be sent to apprehend the drug addicted woman.

Like nothing was happening he turned to the new girl and smiled lightly at her "My name is Johan, Miss Morgan, its nice to meet you. Please feel free to order anything you'd like." He seemed perfectly comfortable providing for the friend Juliette had just made. It was unclear as to his reason for this, it could be that he wanted Juliette to feel comfortable, or he could honestly just be that nice. With his constant attitude toward conflict and random giving to everyone it would be hard to believe he had an alternate motive. Maybe he did honestly just like to make people happy. Though he didn't offer the same to Mac, this was more likely due to their earlier encounter coloring his perspective of the woman. If she was willing to walk into a police station to get drugs he didn't really feel like adding her to the fun atmosphere he had at the restaurant, not to mention she would be removed soon enough anyway..


(Note: Sorry not sure how to put this in elegantly but if Alex's people are listening in to police radios they would know the riot geared people are coming.)

"Hi," spoke a sultry, raspy voice. Juliette looked up and away from Morgan to find herself looking at the most beautiful Asian woman she'd ever met. The woman bowed and Juliette felt as if she needed to stand and curtsy, but resisted the urge.

"Your singing was beautiful. I couldn't understand a word of it, let alone being to guess what language it was, but nevertheless, it made me want to sing along as well," the woman continued. Juliette merely stared at the smiling beauty, before glancing behind her to make sure she really was who this woman was talking to. She was. What did this person want? Was she a policewoman in disguise? Come to arrest her once again?

The French girl jumped when the woman reached out slim fingers to trail over Juliette's skin. Get off, off, off me, Juliette panicked after wincing at the touch. "I think a beautiful girl like you shouldn't be stuck here with the likes of them," she continued, nodding towards Johan and Adrian. "I sort of overheard you're from Class 3. I am just heading back that way, I umm, seem to be out of the good stuff."

"Well if it isn't the run away addict! Still fleeing from the police are we?" Johan asked, amusement lining his dreadfully handsome face. It was cruel for life to give him not only wealth, but beauty. It made Juliette sick. Still, what he'd said about the Asian woman and what she herself had said had her interested. Juliette raised a brow, the panic slowly seeping down her spine, through her toes and into the tiled floors. Good stuff... She must have meant drugs. Biting the inside of her cheek, Juliette stayed silent, keeping her expression as neutral as possible.

"So what do you say, gorgeous?" the Asian woman asked, causing Juliette to nearly flinch. Gorgeous? She was accustomed to la belle but 'gorgeous'?

"Yes, of course I'd ride off into the sunset on a white horse with a stranger I've known for 30 seconds," Juliette said sarcastically. "It's not like that's idiotic or anything. Hey, maybe if you bribe me with lollipops, I'll concede. Although, I do appreciate your lack of respect for those two." Juliette grinned then turned to Morgan. "Would you like to join us on our little Girl's Day Out? Drugs, drinks, sex and dirt. Wooo!" Juliette cheered with false enthusiasm. Although, the first two did sound rather appealing.

"Who are you and what do you really want with me?' Juliette asked the stranger, leaning back against the bench and crossing her legs as one would expect a rich corporate woman to do. "If it's sex, I go by the hour. Women get a discount, though," Juliette said with a smirk and a wink. She lifted her emerald gaze up to meet the woman's and- Juliette froze. There was something so awfully familiar about those eyes. This stranger was interested in her, in more ways than one. Juliette cringed, tugging the sleeves of Johan's shirt down to hide more of herself. Maybe if she buried herself deeply enough to the shirt, she'd simply disappear. Maybe if she shrunk into oblivion, they'd leave her alone. "Morgan and I are busy shaking milk," Juliette mumbled, shuffling closer to Morgan - the heavenly, heterosexual woman - bless her. Juliette looped an arm around Morgan's just as she heard the pinpricks of sirens.

Her gaze shot up as she tensed, her body coiling into a bullet ready to be fired. Then, snarling, she shoved the table aside as she stomped towards Johan and the blinking red light in his pocket.

Although she was standing up and Johan was sitting, she still was not that much taller than him and he was bigger than her. He could shove her away, if he so chose. Still, Juliette, in her rage, grabbed the handles of his chair and glared straight through his eyes, through his optic nerve and into his soul. "Why did you call them?" she demanded before abruptly letting go of Johan's chair. She paced along the width of the booth, biting on her thumb as she shot glances out the window at the sound of the approaching police. Grunting, she grabbed all the knifes from the table and spun them expertly in her fingers, getting a feel for their weight and shape. They were disappointingly blunt but sharp enough to kill if she shoved them into someone's heart with all her might. Not that she would, of course. Usually. Sometimes. Only when they deserved it.

Juliette glared at Johan, considering whether to kill him. Then, an idea sprouted in her mind. She turned around, searched for the stuttering waiter. Yes, he'd be easy, but not as valuable. Did he know the police wanted her, though? Surely not. Hopefully? "Sir?" she called out to him. "Could you come here for a moment please?" When he came, she would wrap her arm around his neck in a choke hold and snap it if he fought. No, she wouldn't. She couldn't. Not when he'd done nothing but serve them amazing food. No, she had a better idea.

Leaning into Johan, she pressed the edge of a knife to his throat. Ah, curses. Juliette was turning into a soft démon lover. She couldn't harm Johan, either. Not after how suspiciously kind Johan had been and after he'd practically saved her life. She knew it was all a trap to get her where she was now - unable to kill the démon but still, her logic did not seem to be winning as it normally did. Johan didn't have to know that, though. She'd drop him off at the outskirts of Class Three and he'd be fine. Ish. She only hoped he'd take her threat to heart and not know how to fight at all. Maybe she'd be lucky and he'd be the Class One type who sat on their million dollar sofas all day. No, he didn't look the type - but a girl could hope.

Juliette tucked a strand of Johan's hair behind his ear and whispered, "Ever seen a bank robbery?"

Well, dinner had escalated kind of quickly. Juliette was quickly making him regret getting her out of that police station.

”I hate to be cliché, but no good deed seems to go unpunished,” he thought to himself, but mostly ignored it. Adrian had no intention of being a knight in shining armor for this girl. Getting her out of the hands of Class 2 police was enough for him, so if she went and got herself back into their grasp he could drive back to Class 3 without any remorse on the subject.

It was sort of annoying, to be honest. Juliette wasn’t acting grateful at all. It’s like, ‘Hey, I called in a big favor to get your ass out of the electric chair; so if you didn’t go around telling people I was asexual that’d be pretty nice of you. Bitch.’ Now she was causing trouble and flipping dudes into tables and bringing strange women back to the table. Oh look, meth bitch from earlier had popped back into their lives, which was far too coincidental to be coincidence.

The ‘asexual’ comment made Adrian grumpy mostly because it forced him to remember that he was currently on a bit of a dry spell. Considering he made it his job to stop the sex trade, he couldn’t pay for a hooker without risking losing all moral authority he felt he had, which would devastate him, and the number of clean women in the slums seems to get smaller every year. For a while Adrian had a little thing with a woman who worked as a waitress, but that fell through about four months ago when they realized the only reason they were together was because they both happened to be just a bit better than the usual Class 3 person. Adrian greatly considered looking her back up once he made it home, though. He was beginning to miss even the basic form of female companionship.

Now the cops were on their way because Johan flipped his panic button, which Adrian wasn’t a big fan of. Not that it was that big of a deal, but the detective had become increasingly curious of who this meth girl was, and three cars of cops in riot gear would probably prove to kill any chance of learning anything from her. Juliette wasn’t a big fan of the idea though. It seemed as if her addiction was beating the battle with reason, at the moment.

Putting a table knife up against Johan’s throat was comical though. For one, Adrian knew well enough that Johan had the training and the will to live necessary to beat this girl down like nobody’s business, though he most likely wasn’t feeling threatened enough to even bother. However, Adrian had a sense of loyalty to Johan. Not so much as a leader, but as a power far above anything Adrian could ever hope to be. When Juliette placed a knife up against Johan’s throat, he couldn’t help but think ”That’s my doctor.” Although Adrian didn’t consider Johan to be a leader, if Johan wanted the position he probably could take it quite easily. The guy was charismatic, passionate, skilled, and Class 1 rich. He was already looked at almost as a god when he ventured into Class 3. It was an awakening moment for Adrian to realize that he would follow Johan into war, should the doctor ask.

“Have you ever seen a bank robbery?” Juliette asked Johan.
But it was Adrian who responded, nonchalantly. “No, but I’ve stopped a few. Ever looked down the barrel of a loaded gun?” The gun had come out almost as soon as Juliette had threatened Johan. It was cocked, and Adrian’s finger was resting on the trigger. Even if the chances of Juliette killing or even hurting Johan were slim, Adrian didn’t want to take that chance by remaining passive. Johan was simply too important. Far more important than a gang member who thinks she’s a good person because her gang occasionally feeds a few people. All Johan had to do was nod his head at Adrian and Juliette’s brains would be scattered across the room.

The bar at this point was dead silent, with all eyes on the scene developing and a few people, probably those carrying some type of drug or illegal weapon, leaving out the back at the sound of sirens. The stuttering waiter seemed to also be watching the show, as well as a number of other waiters and waitresses. It’s a good thing Juliette wasn’t armed with a gun, considering the number of hostages she currently had in the room. To Adrian, this was little more than an inconvenience, or at least that’s how he acted. “Now if you’d let the good doctor go, we can go take care of satisfying your addiction. I promised you a fix, didn’t I? For some I can’t seem to comprehend, I’m getting the feeling that you don’t trust me.” Adrian smiled down the barrel of his gun at Juliette.

Johan simply stared right back into Juliette's beautiful green eyes and gave the same calm smile he always did. Not even a knife at his throat seemed to phase this man, which begged the question. Was he really as soft as everyone thought all the Class 1's where? In fact he didn't give any response to the knife until Adrian pulled his gun. His eyes slide gently over to Adrian to get his attention before shaking his head ever so slightly "Adrian put that away would you. You are scaring folks." He smirked lightly before returning his eyes to Juliette's, allowing her to search his eyes and his face for any sign of deceit. "Dear if I wanted you arrested I would have walked in with the police on my heels and had more waiting at the back entrance. The police are looking for that woman." His eyes flick to the now fleeing Mac. "My intention is to tell them where she is. Now if you would please do yourself a favor and..." Just then the door burst open and six riot police poured through it. With one hand he gently and kindly touched the hand that held the blade to his throat and calmly pressed it away, a gentle nod telling her that it is alright. At the same time he says "My you are a good actor!" His eyes looking directly at Juliette as if she had been trying to distract the run away this whole time. His voice was loud enough for everyone to hear and he sounded quiet convincing. Add onto that her singing skill and obvious beauty and people wouldn't have a hard time believing she was an actor.

With a smooth motion he stood and turned to face the entering police who where moving to him to figure out what the situation was. "Perfect timing we where running out of ways to distract her. The drug addict that escaped the station earlier attacked a man and fled out the back." He pointed toward the kitchen where there was no doubt a back entrance. Though he was lying expertly Juliette's paranoid eyes would notice a slight hesitation as he said it, as well as his eyes drop ever so slightly. He had masked the barely visible tell by turning to point. This meant that before when he was trying to calm her he was telling the truth. He watched as the police split into two groups, one going out the back and the other back out the front to attempt to cut the run away off. With the police off to do their job he knew he had a few things to take care of thanks to le belle's exploits. He turns and approaches the manager to hand him a business card. He then returns to the people he came in with. Looking at Adrian and Juliette saying "I am not completely familiar with these situations, but I believe this is the part where we... how do you say it 'make ourselves scared'?" He smirked lightly as if he though he was using the phrase properly despite his one word slip up. "My car is out front, there is plenty of room and it is much less conspicuous than your usual modes of travel." He looked at both of them when he stated it. Referring both to the hover bike Adrian favored and the board the girl had been shot down while riding.

Morgan was confused, so much was going on. First, who were these people? They didn't seem related in any manner. She liked weird things, she could be the definition of weird to some, but they took that position from her easily. This girl, Juliette, had gone from being nice, sort of, to holding a knife to the guy they called Johan, and now the one called Adrian had pointed a gun at Juliette. So they weren't friends with each other? And now the police were coming?

She looked at Mac now, understanding the cops were after this woman. But if Morgan was found here, her parents would definitely freak out on her for going somewhere and getting into this mess. She let out a surprise yelp when six riot police came in, and she stood up almost immediately, and stared in shock as Johan called out "My you are a good actor!" at Juliette, and the weapons that were showing not too long ago were now concealed from view. Playing it off is smart.. she thought numbly.

She stared even longer at Johan in awe as he spoke to the police and watched the police split off, and she put both her hands on her head, turning in a full circle to see what was going on around her, inside and outside the diner. Stopping to gather her thoughts, she closed her eyes. What the hell... she thought slowly, before reaching a hand down into her pocket, putting some money from the food she had earlier onto the spot where the sat since Juliette had forced the table away when she lunged at Johan.

"This... this is great guys." she spat out, a tone of slight annoyance, but obvious confusion etched over it. "Just how in the world do you plan on walking out of here when there are police left and right, without being questioned?" she directed the comment at Johan, raising an eyebrow. "I'd like to know what your big idea is on that, because I rather not be caught in here myself."