[color=goldenrod]"Alright, if that's how you wanna do things. We'll stick together."[/color] Montag agreed, leaning back on the stool to relieve it of the tension he was feeling from leaning over the bar counter for so long. He looked over to Abigail to tell her he'd run out of cigarettes, but instead of red hair, his eyes fell upon raven locks. Mary's to be precise. He didn't let himself get surprised by her sudden appearance, the only sign of him being phased by the unexpected act being a slightly sharp inhale of breath. He didn't even have time to say a word to her though, her voice showing a clear tone of annoyance at herself for missing this out before, and for impatience to just get it over with, lest she ruin her previously somewhat dramatic exit even more. Still, it showed that even a mysterious person like her was prone to making very human mistakes. Then the pocket watch was handed to him, and another, almost completely identical in appearance, was handed to Abigail. It fit near-perfectly in his palm, and though he definitely wasn't an appraiser, it didn't take much inspection to tell that these watches had been made some time ago. At the very least, they weren't new. He turned it over and around, eyeing its features and worn-out appearance. He knew there was something more about this watch though, he wouldn't have been given it if there wasn't, and his suspicions were confirmed when he flipped open the cover over the watch's face. The glass faces themselves were cracked, with dust layering over over the face and even in between the cracks as well. It definitely fit in with the rest of the watch's aesthetic. What was most interesting about the watch upon opening it up, however, was the time it showed. Though it wasn't too farfetched an idea for a watch this old and decrepit to be telling the wrong time, 12:07 in the morning was an oddly specific time, especially since the subject of the Arnault Villa Party was still fresh in his mind. It was for that reason that he wasn't too surprised when Mary revealed what the watch being stuck on that time meant. What he wasn't expecting, however, was for the watch to suddenly spring to life, as though it had just realised that it was telling the wrong time. Sprung to life seemed a particularly apt term as well. He didn't have Abigail's watch, but if it was the same as his he assumed it emitted the same warm feeling, almost like some kind of aura. He probably would've convinced himself away from his suspicions though, had it not been for Mary's intervention once again, her words almost humanising the object he held in the palm of his hand. He stared at it with hard, dark eyes, almost like he was trying to force whatever might've been inside to show itself through sheer intimidation. He didn't look or pay any heed to Mary as she left, his focus very much on the pocket watch, though she probably would've appreciated that more than anything else, given how awkward and embarrassed she had seemed before. Its ticks filled his ears, each passing second a countdown the foretold fatality that they had to prevent. After a long pause of silence and staring, Eduard finally lifted his head, blinking his eyes to refocus them as thought he'd been caught in a daze of his own making. He closed the lid of the watch and slipped it into one of his trouser pockets, making sure to tuck in the chain so it couldn't be taken without his knowing, and turned again to his new partner. [color=goldenrod]"Sorry, I was just trying to notice if there was anything different about these watches, apart from the obvious at least. But listen, I don't think it's a good idea to discuss planning here. It's too open, anyone could be watching or listening..."[/color] He took a quick glance around his peripheral vision and ahead of him, but not behind him. He didn't want to make it obvious that they were discussing something confidential. He took out the empty, and slightly soggy, cigarette packet from his pocket and swiftly pulled a pen over from behind the bar. He wrote quickly, and the ink smudged a bit when it came in contact with the water, but it was still legible. It read: "The New Haven Beacon, 32 Fairmile Road." [color=goldenrod]"The New Haven Beacon's a newspaper, and my office is just above their building. It's not big, and it's in a long line of other buildings, but it should be noticeable. Just go in and the staircase to my office is up the stairs to your immediate right. Don't bother the editors and workers downstairs too much though, they breathe down my neck enough as it is, so just go up as soon as you come in and knock on the door."[/color] It was the most that Montag had spoken to any of the new associates he'd met so far that day. After relaying so much information, he took a deep breath, hoping that Abigail had understood. Either way, she had the address. The time had been about 8:45PM when he'd closed the pocket watch before, so by his mark it was probably about 8:50PM by now. [color=goldenrod]"Come there in 2 hours. It'll be open, don't worry. We'll talk more then."[/color] He stood up purposefully, looking down to Abigail once more, in case she had anything more to say before he made his leave.