The old man looked up at Elohim, quickly tagging her as a partier from one of the local nightclubs.  Not too likely to give him money, but she was certainly dressed expensively.  It was a bit odd for someone like her to be in this part of town, but it wasn't exactly unexpected.  Perhaps there was a rave on.  A fetish rave?  The man had seen stranger things happen.<br/><br/>"Hey!"  The man croaked, in a voice clearly cracked and strained by years of smoking.  "Can you spare some change for an old man down on his luck?"  He asked, staring at Elohim's feet.  He was used to begging, but this woman scared him.  She'd likely ignore him, of course, like most dressed so fancy would.  Were it not for his myopia, he might see the silver fluid leaking out of her everywhere, the massive injuries, yet all he could see was a vague outline in white leather.