[color=2e3192][h1][center]Alison Fitzpatrick[/center][/h1][/color]
[color=2e3192][h2][center]Club Carousel, Morning[/center][/h2][/color]

“Get the girl a ride somewhere, she shouldn’t stay here— Make sure those dogs at Homicide don’t take my damn case, and make sure all of this evidence makes it to the station. I have someone I need to see.” And with that, Ashley was out of the apartment in a flurry, headed towards the club and a pair of green eyes that might have seen something that the girl didn’t.

Alison grimaced at the rugged detective's partner, who was unconvincingly straight-edged. The rather unremarkable looking man offered her an apologetic smile. The curvature of his lips was even more insincere than her's; he was doing everything that he could to bring the bloodstained room back to protocol. Poor boy. This "Smith" was as green as a stick of broccoli.

"I'm going to take you to the station," Smith said with a kind, but assertive voice. "Or would you like to stay at my apartment until we can find a new place for you?"

"No."

"No to what?"

"Both."

"You aren't going to stay here, Miss Fitzpatrick."

"I am not going to spend my [i]second[/i] night in New York in a...in a [i]police station[/i]! I'll---I'll find a place to stay."

Smith frowned. Above all else, he wished the best for this poor naive fairy; this apartment had become cursed. She had to find somewhere. He had seen duplicates of Alison get dissolved by the system dozens of times -- moths, eagerly racing toward the flame. Perhaps this horrible day could set her on the right path. "If you want my advice, miss...Go home."

"You are preaching to the choir," Alison mumbled. "Is it all right if I gather my things?"

"Not until we conclude bagging evidence. I am sorry."

"Right. I'll be back." Alison stumbled out of the room and let her bodyweight momentously drag her down the stairs. She wandered into the subdued realm of the Carousel Club, still wearing the same nightgown as the previous evening. She hadn't even bothered to look down to witness her indecency. That was the least of her worries. She spotted the woman known as "Emerald" on the floor and hoarsely hollered toward her. 

"Please help me."