She didn't know what this person looked like. She didn't know their name. Not a single goddamn thing about them, and that was just fine.

Grace had chosen a small but definitely public venue for their meetup. Had her brain on high alert, aura checking every person who went by to see if she got a hit of meat flavor. She'd gone in and purchased a bag of Flamin' Hot Cheetos and a Mountain Dew, using them to claim real estate on one of the two tables outside.

When she eventually saw a shimmering outline of someone nearer, her gaze locked on them, waiting to see if they had the "I'm waiting for someone" expression pop up.

general vibe, plus a plain septum ring

Red wasn't good at spotting psychics. Vampires and weres, easy. Too easy, sometimes. But the magical gals and guys? No luck. He parked his motorcycle by the deli, tucked his helmet under his arm and looked around, squinting.

Like a lizard trying to search for a fly. And then he locked eyes with this girl.

"Uh... hi?"
Things Grace wasn't expecting: an old. He approached somewhat warily, and that left her feeling like she had an advantage already. She likely knew more about shifters then he did about psychics.

"You here for the orob- orbor- ors-"

There went her fucking high ground. What a Billy word.

"The supe thing?"

How the fuck did you say it? Too many vowels. Assuming he didn't run off, she'd wave him over to her table and one person trash feast.
Red just nodded and threw deuces at her. Then took his motorcycle gloves off.

"Yeah, that would be me. Name's Red." he said.
Red. His name was Red as much as Grace's name was Purple, but sure. She eyed the gloves as he took them off, then kicked a foot across beneath the table to nudge the other chair out for him. A warm welcome by skeptical psychic standards.

"Grace," she said, not as interested in code names.

Could have prompted him with a question, but it was his deal, after all. She decided instead to leave it there, wondering if he'd go into an introduction of the whole thing or if she was here to tease info from him.
Red sat down with her, unsure where to start. He was a bit hungry, so maybe he should get himself a sandwich... But maybe business first. Yeah. He brought out the spreadsheets he made for finances since people tended to ask him about that first.

"So, what do you want to know? The why's and how's or the money?" The shifter decided to ask first.
She saw him bring out papers, eyebrows rising with interest. He was an open book, apparently, and she was ready to go in order of questions offered until the last one.

"There's money?" she asked, always caught there first.

B-Dawg was putting in work on the blood selling front, but she would never say no to more cash.
"I've told about this in the ad. Looking for part-time paid employees, too." Red said, going through the papers. The club was bringing profits, his other venture was bringing profits and Red wasn't exactly looking for a change of lifestyle, entirely satisfied with his dingy apartment in Hawknell.

Despite everything, there was a knot in his stomach... but why?
Oh, right. Long term. That sounded scammy enough that she hadn't connected to it much. How many jobs had she done free training for and then ended up not getting paid?

"I remember now," she said. "What part-time shit are you looking at?"

Was it being fed to vampires? She had a suspicion it was being fed to vampires. How the fuck else were they helping bloodsuckers out?
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