"Obviously," he said to Colin in a way to say that it wasn't obvious at all.  He didn't feel supernatural.  Then he laughed, twirled the glass his drink was in at the suggestion there was a link between Catholicism and holiness.  "Considering what they justice department of every state in every country in the world is finding when they look into the Church, there's probably the opposite of a connection between holiness and the Church, whatever that is.  But... I guess I believe in angels and demons?  As, like, abstracts, spiritual beings or something.  Not guys having a drink in a bar.  That's a joke.  Lucifer and Michael were in a bar, and Lucifer says to 'You know why Artaxerxes crossed the Rhodes,' and Michael stabs him with a flaming sword.  But... something supernatural.  I've had worse starts."<br/><br/>There were a lot of people around town that claimed supernatural powers.  Now... he knew that some of them were possibly real.  He sipped his drink, trying to wrap his head around it.  He felt as though he was in a bubble of shock.  The enormity of what happened was too vast to process all at once.  It was one of those "everything you thought was real isn't" moments, but how does the brain handle that?  What did the Aztecs feel when Cortez washed up on their shores, a visitor from another world?  Didn't they try to fit him into their worldview and end up having their world destroyed?  He couldn't quite remember.<br/><br/>He leaned on the bar and looked to Hazel and said, "I'm not sure if Colin's request is kindness, typically understood, but it's definitely friendly.  And a party is where you make it.  If we had a band, it would definitely be a party.  I know a few songs if anyone's got a guitar.<br/>"And Jim over there's definitely in a party mood, if party means 'alcohol poisoning.'  How are you not blind?<br/><br/>"Set is a good Biblical name.  No, that's Seth, but I bet they mean the same thing.<br/><br/>When Chance said that his background might have been produced by something supernatural in his family tree, he laughed.  Then he shrugged, drank more bourbon, and said, "I'm not sure I would have thought magic was passed along in DNA.  That kind of kills the mystery a little, like a biologist could sort all of this out.  I could send in a sample and get one of those charts like they do about ancestry.  Except instead of being 11% North African, I'd be 11% vampire and... okay, that's the only supernatural thing I know, and I don't even know if they can have kids.  But, yeah, Chance, maybe I should get my own fucking answers."<br/><br/>He raised an eyebrow at the question of whether he was bitten.  "No, no bites.  It's just..."<br/><br/>He thought about what had changed.  The only thing that leapt to his mind is his feelings about the work he'd done - the sense of justice was gone.  It was just brutality in someone else's name.  Not even his own brutality, but proxy work for assholes without the guts or drive to get their hands dirty.  It was dirty.  The difference was he felt the dirt.  He rolled his tongue around his mouth.  He half shrugged, looked back to Chance.<br/><br/>"It's just that I realized today that I'm a miserable fucking human being and I'm making the world a worse place than it is.  That's it.  That's what's on my mind.  I didn't get into police work to be the bad guy.  I wanted to help people.  I swear to God, I wanted to help people."