[center][color=ed1c24][b]The Black[/b][/color][/center]
A quiet chat with Thomas became a loud party so suddenly. First with the woman, and then the tall man with the gun storming into the room. From his accent he sounded Russian. The Black assessed him as the number one threat within the room, a hunter most definitely. A skilled one at that. Thomas had to be decent himself to get Deon so close to death. The Black himself had no intentions of getting touched by silver. Not today. Not on this night. He'd prefer never, but wounds in battle can be inevitable. He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a photo. Raising his arms into the air. A pistol outlined under his shirt. Tucked underneath the backside of his pants. "I'll be leaving soon enough. I simply had a question." The Black lifted the cig back to his lips and inhaled, while showing the photo to Thomas.

"Her name is Fayth." In the picture she looked quite different, but Fayth Morrow had a distinct look in her eyes that could be matched anywhere. She might be able to pull off the look of a sorority blonde, but her eyes told a different story. Matching the look of the brunette Fayth of the photo who seemed to be pondering and full of thought. "Just someone I'm looking for. Went missing a while back. Six months. Maybe even a year now. The trail has lead me here. All I want his help. Yes or no is all I need." He looked at Yvette and then the Russian. "The name is Jake if you really want to know."

"I don't want any trouble. Want to be finding this woman and be on my way."