<div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><em>Just One Sip of Abnormality</em></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Tagging: Jacqueline and Austin</span></span></div><br/><br/>The homeless man inside the squad car had panicked.  Things just weren't making sense, his emotions had skyrocketed, and voices inside his head kept muttering terrible things about destroying himself.  He knew he wasn't crazy, he was just down on his luck, and had found the body just laying there.  The boy didn't need his wallet, he was dead, so what could it have hurt to just lift it?  And than...well than it appeared out of the air, and had touched him and his brain had been burning ever since.  Something under his skin moved, and his hands were bound, making it impossible for him to feel along his skin.  And although there really wasn't anything on him, his mind kept telling him that there was.<br/><br/>And than it got worse, and his blood pressure shot up, his vision went blurry, and all he could think about was killing whatever it was that was crawling under his skin.  So he did the only thing his fevered mind could think of, and started thrashing about, banging his head against the seat, against the partition in front of him, anywhere he could touch.  And than he was screaming, but whatever he was saying didn't make sense to him, and his eyes went wild.<br/><br/>He heard voices yelling, a female distinctive above the rest, and then the door was being yanked open, and a body pinned him still.  His eyes rolled towards the other man, the words he spoke unintelligible to him.<br/><br/>"<strong>It burns!</strong>"  His voice was low, and a moment later his body slumped, and his pulse stopped.  His sightless eyes still stared at the officer on top of him, a lingering confusion and fear still there, but disappearing in moments.<br/><br/><br/><hr/><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><em>An Opportune meeting</em></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Tagging: Bianca</span></span></div><br/>The large man, who may or may not have be a Demon refrained from raising an eyebrow, and instead covered his annoyance by rubbing his face with his hands.  His piercing gaze locked onto the Phoenix witch, and he let out a heavy sigh.  Working with Witches were never straight forward, he shouldn't have forgotten that.<br/><br/>"<strong>I want him dead, his son will get what's coming to him, but his kin must pay for his sin as well.  I'll pay you, and the information I gave you should be more than enough for you.  If not, well than I can always find someone else to take the job.</strong>"  He didn't really want to go to the trouble of finding someone else.  For one, it wouldn't be as fun, but he would, since this job was bigger than what little fun he could get out of hiring someone so closely connected to the Halliwell's.<br/><br/>He dropped his hands onto the table, the heavy thud of impact not making a very large dent in the loud room.  And he stood, one of his hands coming to rest on top of the file.<br/><br/>"<strong>Tell me now if you don't want the job, and I'll disappear and wont bother you again.</strong>"  It was a lie, if she turned down this job, he'd come back for her when their missions were all completed, and he could go back to doing what he did best, torturing poor unsuspecting witches.<br/><br/><hr/><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://i1137.photobucket.com/albums/n520/undisclosed2you/E%20char%20pics/tumblr_lvwgmhwKEl1r2c7ulo1_500-6.png)</div><div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><em>Jaid Samantha Black</em></span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">These Boots are Made for Walking</span><br/>Tagging: Prudance, anyone</span></span></div><br/><br/><br/>Although the night was still early, there was a steady stream of people coming in and out of P3, and Jaid, who was twenty minutes into her shift, already had her hands full.  As the music blasted in the background, and she delivered drinks to the patrons, she spotted a waiter heading towards the back of the club, a tray laden with food and a drink she couldn't make out from her position.  Glancing around, she deciding that this was an opportunity she wasn't about to let pass, and stalked forward, the hard heels of her boots clicking against the floor of the club.  As she neared the waiter, her empty tray dropped to her front, and she grasped the edges, as she talked in low hushing tones with the man.<br/><br/>"<strong>Hey Andy, is that tray for the boss?"</strong>It only took her a few moments to talk the man into letting her deliver the food, weaving a convincing lie about needing to talk to one of their bosses about taking a day off.  As they exchanged tray's, she gave the other waiter a bright smile, she usually reserved for the patrons, and sauntered her boot clad feet into the back room.<br/><br/>Conscious of the Halliwell's preference for privacy, she knocked, before slipping into the room.  The first thing she spotted was the familiar dark headed figure of her eldest Halliwell charge, prudance, and her smile brightened considerably.  She needed them to get used to her, and what better way to do that, than befriend one of them.<br/><br/>"<strong>I'm sorry for interrupting you, but I have some snacks from the kitchen for you.</strong>"  She set the tray down gently, and moved the items onto the table, before leaning back to get a better look at her "boss."<br/><br/>Prudance had the unmistakable dark hair that a lot of the Halliwell's inherited, and the looks as well, this she could admire.  She liked to think that all her charges were good looking, although truth be told she never actually consciously thought about it.  But Prudance was, and she found those thoughts lingering in her mind as her eyes took in the scene before her.