[b][center][h2]Paige Kennedy[/h2][/center][/b]
	
Paige watched as the wayward musician made a few adjustments to a prosthetic leg before taking up his things and trundling off without so much as a thank you to her and completely ignoring the gracious compliments of a fan he’d managed to attract. She rolled her eyes and wished she’d taken the opportunity to jam a few of the buttons on the drumbox when she had the chance. Sol City never disappointed when it came to being disappointing, she thought; even the hobos in Florida had more manners [i]or maybe that was just the North in general[/i]. She shrugged a little at the scruffy looking younger guy still standing there. “Talent doesn’t imply courtesy.” She said dryly. He looked like he hadn’t seen daylight in weeks. 

Seeing Milo approach with his usual gruff demeanor gave her a smirk. She could tell someone got on his nerves just by the way he walked and likewise could smell the subtle metallic scent of molten metal still on his clothes when he came near- a scent that she couldn’t bring herself to admit, but enjoyed immensely. “You’re gonna have to eat something, or I’m gonna feel like a fatass.” She said first as he ordered a drink. “It was a… enlightening meeting for him.” She said, turning her attention to his question. “I almost made him cry, but he told me what he knew.” She brushed some of her hair away and leaned back in the chair noting that it was the first meal they’d shared since the Sunday night after they took down Jackie Costa. She wanted to enjoy it, even briefly, but her mind was still impatiently contemplating their next move.

Telling him about the case or her investigation wouldn’t be something that her superiors would look kindly on, even though she told herself he had a right to know. The Syndicate would only send more people and she’d found out through the grapevine about the bonus offered to the assassin for her demise: $100k dead, $200k strangled-to-death. [i]Should’ve settled for the 100[/i]. She boasted, but Milo didn’t seem to find the humor in the dark sentiment. In the time following the attack, the Marshal Service and State Police increased security around Milo’s shop and Paige’s new home: a small cottage on the east-side near the University that regularly served as a safe-house for witness protection. It was for her own good: defensible, secluded and away from the crowded city center. She did like it better than the apartment and it felt more like a home despite its purpose.

Still, she knew something big was brewing and could feel it in her gut. Unlike most women, her intuition seemed to mostly detect the less savory aspects of society and with the soon-arrival of Syndicate’s heir to the throne, she knew she couldn’t be far off. 

[@Zaxter996][@RoccanIronclad]