Where was that King? All of a sudden, with the arrival of Dawn, Goodman was starting to feel agitated again. Except this time, it wasn't anything to do with his curse or threat at all. If anything, it was a restlessness that at first he couldn't pinpoint the cause of, until it occurred to him. He was itching to look around. Damn him, after what he'd been told of Jen's powers, he felt the draw to look into things, to stroke and touch and to find something magical. He'd always had an avaricious nature but ever since he started collecting artifacts, it'd gotten a little too deep to handle. Sometimes, he couldn't control how much he desired to own and claim things, this hidden mischievous side of him pushing him towards impulse rather than rationality. It was not smart to steal from Jen and even as he told himself he could control it, that he just wanted to look, it sent a thrill of impish amusement through him to realize how little he believed his own private promise. At the very least, he should wait.<br/><br/>"Nice to meet you, Dawn," Goodman said, unfolding from the couch and standing at his full height, like a slender, dark blade cutting through the room. Pulling a sprig of mistletoe from a collection of other greenery and herbs collected on the mantle, with two fingers pinching it, he held it above his own head with a sly, crooked grin. "Could I interest you in a small smooch under the mistletoe?" Eyes full of dark power briefly flashed with purple iridescence behind his glasses but his manner was warm and full of placid charm.