Pace was looking too smug and a little too possessive with the way he loomed over Nora and stared down the demon. Something he had no right to be, but instinct controlled his impulses in the moment. His hands came up, then back down again to settle on Nora’s shoulders as he slunk in closer still, the piercing set of his eyes meeting that of the demon’s head on. Where his own shame was hiding one of his true faces to her, he had no trouble Showing the demon what he truly was. A mental image only, his Sight bored down into the other supernatural to paint Tobias the picture of something old; an idea created at the beginning of things.<br/><br/><br/>Jackal headed, but not substantially, and taller, larger than the man-skin that stood over the witch. Like something out of an old gothic movie, the creature was a thing of shadow and darkness, where the eye tried to make sense of what it looked at but couldn’t quite make it out. What looked like claws that wrapped around Nora’s shoulders could have also been long fingers; what looked like fur that rippled over the bipedal frame could have also been anything. The eyes stayed the same, bright like a pair of diamonds, and the smile flashed jagged teeth in a long maw.<br/><br/><br/>The image vanished quickly, though, as Pace lowered his attention away and directed his sights on Nora, “I don’t believe in gods,” he confessed, with pursed lips. “They are what humans created to make sense of the things they couldn’t explain. They are also a way for things like me -- us --” he corrected, smirking “to control those weaker than ourselves. So we, the monsters, created ourselves as gods so that the humans would bow to us.”<br/><br/><br/>He believed it, too, with a particular consternation.<br/><br/><br/>After that, he listened, his focus no longer on the demon but on Nora. He absorbed her words with a steadily creeping smile on his face, until he had to interject. “So what would your Society think of something like me, if they opt to pick and choose what is good and evil? In the words of my Saturday night Dungeon Master, I’m a chaotic neutral. Or just … a monster. Do you want me to crawl under your bed and whisper dirty things to you while you sleep?”<br/><br/><br/>It was much like the Syndicate, only their mindset was to make sure the creepy crawly shit behaved and blended in with the more mundane world, or else get tossed back where they belonged. Like it or not, that was often where Pace himself came into play. Reluctantly, he was the Gatekeeper between worlds, even if he thought the organization itself was corrupt.<br/><br/><br/>Letting his mind meander, his footsteps followed the pair down the hall. And while his hands itched to touch Nora still, especially in the presence of the demon, he kept his arms swinging at his sides and his eyes soaking in the interior of where they were with an unabashed curiosity on his face. As they came to a stop, though, his eyes landed on the package, and then on the necklace that was pulled from the box.<br/><br/><br/>Only his interest was not on the stone, but back on the demon, considering him again. “Wait. Before we continue this escapade, why does your organization have the Wight Stone?” He asked softly, the threat a rumble underneath the words. His expression even remained amicable; there was a smile on his face, a twinkle in his eyes. “And don’t worry, demon. You can join us and make it a four way. Do you take the bottom position or…?”