Nemesis paused on the steps of the Cathedral and stared up at the towering spires. He wondered if he should cross himself or offer a prayer, but being relatively anti-organized religion, allowed himself the hypocrisy of a mental apology before taking a deep breath and opening the oversized doors.

This time, at least, it was important to enter through the front.

“So there we were, huffing and puffing as this asshole turns down a dead-end alley.” Pops coughed out a quick laugh and poured a draft. “So now we know we got us a genius,” he said from around the taps. The resident cronies laughed appropriately. The ‘newbies’ offered a polite chuckle out of courtesy, but from his vantage point Luke noticed that conversation had all but ceased within hearing distance of Pops.

"Okay," he said, again focusing on her. "Someone—you, I suppose—has obviously put some time and effort into at least getting me this far in. So I'm fourth on the list—wait." He glanced at the folder. "Fourth? Really?" He sighed and shook his head. So if I don't take the job you just offer it to the next person on your list who isn't, uh—" he again referred to the folder. "An 'attention whore' or a 'jerk'." He suddenly chuckled. "I can't wait to meet that guy."

Nemesis had to admit that now his curiosity was well and truly piqued. The last thing
He had expected was…well, a job offer. He didn’t even bother to keep the surprise and curiosity from his face. He flipped through the packet, sometimes reading a page, sometimes simply glossing over it. After several minutes he looked up and gestured with the packet.

“This is…what? Some sort of marketing thing?” If she’d wanted to catch him off guard it appeared she had succeeded.

Take out Chinese food, a hot bath and one really long day later, Ophilia found herself back in the comfort of her overstuffed leather couch. The furnishings were simple but extravagant and the place was tidy. It looked more like a model unit than it did a lived in space. The light from the kitchen and her big screen TV were the only evidence that the quiet resident was home.

Today was going to be a really good day for Ophilia DiSantiago, or so she thought. There was a spring in her step as she walked down one of the winding paths in LeMastre Park. A pleasant breeze promised to bring rain later as it flirted with the unruly curls that framed her petite face. She was carrying a light lap top case, slung over one shoulder, and was looking forward to drinking her coffee from Voodoo Bean.

The squeak of the marker on the white board was grating, to say the least, but Luke was trying anything to make some connections. He would write a name, or an address, or a crime or a completely unrelated event somewhere, then step back and try to connect it to something else. He knew there was something big going on out there…

If only he could put his finger on it.

“Working some sort of powers-for-sale thing, or what?”

He turned at the voice. The stocky frame of Pops McGinty filled the door. He was holding a bottle of ale, which he promptly passed over to Luke.

APPEARANCE

Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Height: 1.87 m
Weight: 95.00 kg

Description: Luke is a big man, broad of chest and shoulder. His hair is still generally worn short, though not as short as it was when he carried a badge, and lately he’s taken to giving it a bit of style. He generally dresses casually in either jeans or cotton slacks and remembers to shave at least every other day. He moves with an easy grace and is surprisingly quick for such a big man.