Owner	Pose
Remy LeBeau	"Log entry, seventeen D. security guard on t'irty second floor goes to de bat'room at exactly eleven forty seven. Note aftah dis operation is complete, send him a message to go see a doctor. He showing alot of signs of pre diabetes." He clicks off his lapel mic and takes back up his binoculars, refocusing on the building.
Remy LeBeau	Remy LeBeau doesn't notice the extremely attractive woman on the streets below, New York has some of the most beautiful women in the world, many of them were even born that way. And his focus is on the skyscraper across the blocks. "Log Entry: Seventeen E. De bastards appear to 'ave installed Polyelectrium film to de outsides of de windows. Likely ta keep out sunlight foh dare less den human cliental. Still dat means entry via a McNeal descender is likely gonna be impossible. Ah need at least seven minutes an' forty five seconds wit' de safe, and Ah break dat film de gaurds will be on me in less den t'ree."
Remy LeBeau	Remy LeBeau continues his observations and running dialogue as the woman draws closer...closer... Right up until she is only a building away. Then without taking down his bincos calls out in a calm clear voice. "Now Ah'd tell yah mah mamma used ta say it rude ta sneak up on people. But since she abandon me in a train station when Ah was six, Ah don' consider 'er ta be a beacon of moral virtue."
Vampirella	He speaks to himself on a job. The fact blows Vampirella's mind. Yes, the people of this world are so hard of hearing as to be nearly deaf, but after fifty years it still surprises her that they could miss the sound a mere twenty stories below. She forces herself to glance upward, passing it off as a mere roll of her head on her shoulders as if to crack a stiff neck, and she doesn't quite catch sight of the man taking those log entries; the sun is a merciless lance spearing her eyes like a pair of olives on cocktail toothpicks, leaving her seeing little but white and blue from even that quick look upward. But she did see the twin flashes of round, bright light off lenses. She makes note of where, and keeps walking, a woman with oddly foreign features, who seems to be perfectly well-dressed against the seaside autumn wind in a long trenchcoat; just an average, human woman leaving her law office on some doubtlessly mundane piece of business or another that definitely had nothing to do with reconnaissance of an extradimensional enemy who might have access to technology (or magic, if you prefer that) she needs. She keeps walking for three more blocks, listening closely for this man who is clearly some kind of monitor for Wolfram and Hart, managing their employees for efficiency and health.
Vampirella	Vampirella loses track of the man's monologue. New York is loud. Still, she's confident in her assessment of him and his role, as she ducks into a suitably secluded alley and jumps (try jumping in her boots some time), arms over her head to snag the lowest rung of a fire escape ladder. She chins up it easily and starts climbing, grateful once she's high enough to use her feet as well as her arms: her arms are perfectly strong enough for the job, but the way her lower half swings from side to side while she does it makes her think of a drunken fish trying to go upstream. Four stories up, she sheds the overcoat with a shrug, letting it drop to the metal grating of the fire escape's landing with a muffled thump. The work she has in mind might need her back free to release her wings. Ella Normandy is gone; Vampirella is present now. The man on a roof three blocks over might or might not survive the questions she has for him. Still, she wishes it was night. She'll spread her wings if she needs to but she'd feel safer about it at night.
Vampirella	Vampirella reels. It had been daylight two minutes ago: she's sure of it, down to her bones. Her eyes still hurt from the sunlight. Yet now, it is night, the deepest part of night, cold and quiet (at least by New York standards), and the man she'd been hearing is still there, as if no time at all has passed. As if no time passed for her, either. The switch was instantaneous. This is bad. Is she even still in the same world she'd been in half a second ago, or did the chaos gods kick her onto a new world? Damn, damn, damn. She suddenly no longer has time to worry about the man with the binoculars. She needs to find out if she still has a life, or if it's been swept away by what to all appearances seems to be her getting slapped into another world again.