<span style="font-family: 'Arial'">It certainly hadn't been Lara's intention a few months ago to mingle among the community of <i>extraordinaries</i>, to say the least, but considering the circumstances and the extensive research the young woman had to put herself through over that time, she was hoping that a second mind and pair of eyes on some of the materials she'd found in her mother's crawlspace would be able to help her answer a few unanswerable questions...<br/>
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Y'see, Lara Wilton, 6 months ago, thought that she was just a normal human being. All of her life, she'd had to put up with a constant stream of teasing directed at certain family members, especially her mother. How the other kids poked and prodded, making fun of little Lara, saying she was the daughter of a witch; that her mother was a spellcaster, a skinchanger, and a sneak-thief. This sort of verbal abuse went on for years and years, but Lara did her best to rise above and ignore the hateful words. And yet, strangely enough, the jokes had a small iota of truth to them:<br/>
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<i>Lara's mother WAS, indeed, a witch. </i>Not particularly from any old or notable bloodlines, but she originated in some of the lower reaches of Florida, practicing a unique brand of magic not many supernatural beings had come into contact with before.<br/>
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And Lara only discovered this truth 3 years ago, beginning with unfortunate circumstances. Passing on together, her father and mother both lost battles to cancer, but went peacefully. They left their savings, cabin estate in Colorado and everything they owned to their young daughter, who had at that point hadn't suspected a thing about her mother. But when she began going through her parents' cabin to prepare it for sale, in their bedroom, she noticed something strange...<br/>
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There was a false panel in the wall concealing a crawlspace where, about the size of a common Bible, was a spellbook belonging to her mother. She had found the proof she never knew existed that stated the fact she denied for many years...her mother was, indeed, a witch.<br/>
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And now, having sold her mother's house and everything unneeded herself, she'd taken whatever time she needed to gather up some traveling supplies and get herself on her way. Somehow managing to find a few contacts with knowledge of the supernatural, any and all clues she'd found to her mother's (and her own) origins led her towards San Francisco, to this building...the Devil's Dream.<br/>
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When she walked in through the entrance, maybe most would mistake her for a "normie", as she didn't wear anything spectacularly special to the club. She merely adorned a violet-hued evening dress with a skirt that ended at just about her knees, hugging her curves rather lovingly. Some of the bangs of her light brown, shoulder-length hair covered her right eye, but strangely, she usually preferred seeing through her left when moving around. She was kind of surprised at some of what was transpiring around her, watching carefully as she wove through the crowd to get to the bar. Hopefully the bartender would have some answers as to who she'd recommend seeing.<br/>
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"...do you have anything nonalcoholic behind there?" she asked as she sat at a barstool.</span>