Benji eyed the men, Albert and Simon, suspiciously at the mention of a mad woman and an underground forest. Was the supernatural underground actually underground? He sighed, it probably was. “You wouldn’t happen to be part of the Supernatural Underground would you?” He asked guessing that he had already met the mad woman they had referred to and was not looking forward to another meeting with her. It wasn’t very shocking to hear her brain might be fried from a psychoactive drug; that would explain a bit of her craziness. He accepted the cup of scotch Simon handed out, “Thanks,” he said. Paon had taken a drink as well and almost immediately passed out. Benji sniffed his drink before he drank from it but it smelled only of scotch and if it was spiked with anything he didn’t detect it. He guessed the dragon couldn’t hold his liquor, at least not after having his shoulder impaled. He took a long drink of about half the cup and nodded in approval, it was good scotch. “Anyway if you are Supernatural Underground I might have already had a run in with your leader; we didn’t get along.” He said calmly as he drank another mouthful of scotch. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to go to Alaska, it sounded like a good place, but if Willa wasn’t going he probably wouldn’t either, it was nice to have a friend around and he didn’t feel like giving that up just yet. He glanced her way hoping to get some inclination of how she felt about these strangers. If they were with the Underground he wasn't sure he could trust them and the thought of going somewhere completely new with strangers he couldn't completely trust seemed like a bad plan. ------------------- “Right, Fae, I wasn’t completely sure so I didn’t want to insult you if you weren’t.” Charlie said, he was left more curious than satisfied by Mr. Right’s answer. Did he mean he was a one of a kind sort of Fae and that’s why his kind happily help Dr. McConnel or that most of the supernaturals were happy to help? [i]Yeah, the supernaturals are all very happy to be caged and harvested. Who wouldn’t like that, what an honor to become the next frivolous product? [/i]Was Mr. Right lying, or maybe just twisting the truth, because they wanted him to accept the offer. He liked that thought, they really wanted to work with him, and he felt validated as scientist. He also liked hearing he wouldn’t have to go near the Wendigo, Charlie had seen it once in person and a few times in his nightmares. He wouldn’t have to collect, as the Fae put it, anymore which would make this a lot easier maybe he could live with it, if the work was worthy. They way Mr. Right explained everything was very persuasive and Charlie was starting to see the situation in a new light. He could leave now, quit, try and find work at another, less intense lab and maybe get away from all this supernatural stuff. Doing that wouldn’t have any effect on what was going on here, what would continue to go on with or without him. If he stayed he could focus his research on something even more worthy, more military equipment to help protect soldiers or maybe even some medical research. These experiments were going to continue with or without him, he might as well focus it towards something good. [i]All it takes to buy your soul is a nice office and a raise?[/i] Charlie ignored that thought, he didn’t believe in souls anyhow. He could do good here, he was sure of it now, he just needed to focus on the science and let the rest fall away. His quitting wouldn't make a difference, he couldn’t bring down the labs and he wasn’t going to go around setting potentially dangerous supernaturals free. “You’re right, dude, I’m convinced. I mean if I turned down an offer this amazing, well I wouldn’t be anywhere as clever as you all think I am right? I’d have to be fool, I mean an office and the chance to focus completely on my work, so how can I say no? I do have one more question. Are there any dress code rules for this level? Any fascist prohibitions on hats in the office?” Charlie asked his last question mostly as a joke. He had convinced himself to accept the offer and that annoying voice in the back of his head had seemed to give up for now but something still felt wrong. Maybe it was the unsettling way Mr. Right’s eyes pierced right through him. It was like the guy was studying him, like he was subject to be studied rather than the scientist.