Ianthe lifted her arms slightly away from her sides, displaying her empty hands and holstered guns in a good-faith gesture. That these other Grey were so terrified as to suppress the prodigious libidos their race was famous for unnerved her, but she wasn't about to let her well-dressed employer see that: she let her lips curve with a small smile, met those expressionless eyes squarely, and tipped her head in a minute nod that was at once thanks for the compliment and answer to the question.<span style="color: mediumturquoise">"Restful,"</span>she said - and after a beat, went on,<span style="color: mediumturquoise">"I was gratified to be given the opportunity to solve your problems, Master Giantprick. No doubt you've already contacted my... references, and understand that I pride myself on discretion. Please, tell me how I may relieve you of the burdens that led you to seek me out."</span>While most of the Grey she'd met were crude in manner, she supposed that elaborate politeness couldn't hurt, here. Giantprick's attire suggested he was a more fashionable sort of mobster, after all.<br/><br/>At the same time, she was reaching back down the stairs, and towards the bar, with another mental question, trying to clarify the situation:<span style="color: mediumturquoise"><i>His crew, they're frightened. Of him, or of something else?</i></span><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>