<strong>Herring, Front Desk with Victor</strong><br/><br/>The woman, perhaps odd but strangely normal for fringe society assumed a genuine smile. The lack of surprise was comforting, and she was glad to see the man was taking good visual stock of her belongings. Her eyes briefly turned to George, watching the care put into gathering the variety of things, especially the unmarked phial, as if it was the most dangerous thing of all. She then gladly met Victor's eyes again, one natural and one artificial, while blindly signing for her room in violet ink. George wasn't gone yet, and was handed the fountain pen, which definitely suggested that in some discreet way, it was also a weapon, a last precaution for a woman who would expect to be robbed after being disarmed.<br/><br/>That one casual act made obvious her past dealings weren't without their downfalls, and yet she wasn't going to trouble anyone by mentioning that the pen doubled as a single shot projectile. It seemed that having an official document to sign had finally won her trust, and Victor won a wry smirk from the slight stammer before mentioning personal matters. "I would hope to soon have personal matters of my own to attend to," she replied as she lifted the still heavy, but significantly less heavy back from the floor with her left hand. "Its a pleasure doing business with this fine establishment, Mister, er... Sorry, I don't think I caught your name, sir," she finished with presenting her right hand to him. It seemed softly skinned, effeminate. But by now, Victor was probably aware of its hidden strength.