Bell stalked up the street, tailing her prey with deliberate steps. Today was equally busy on Monne Street, with the usual hust and bustle of 4 PM foot traffic. She noticed a few of the usual busses, shuttling around, and stopping at stops.

The person her brown eyes followed intently was sulking ahead. A demon, particularly someone rumored to be a secretary for the Grand President of Hell. They took a left down Caymen Street, and once she caught up: it seemed they had disappeared. She looked around, not missing her step, hands in pockets holding onto a string of beads, and a butterfly knife that was sheathed at the moment.

A few steps later, and she felt it. A sensation of her hair crawling up her spine. She ducked and rolled, having missed a strike from the secretary. "What the fuck?!" she exclaimed, coming back on her feet, hands out, already tossing the rope of beads at the demon. The demon retreated, and she groaned in annoyance.

Payment wasn't coming today. She waited a few minutes, with a concerned and excited crowd. Once nothing happened, the congestion ended, and she walked towards Merydon Drive, where a corner bar sat. There goes her target, who will now be hunting her, or more likely, sending his underlings to hunt her.

She opened the door, noticed that there was a crowd this evening, and checked her watch: Ah, that explains it. The 5 o clock game was just about to start. Making her way to the serving island in the bar, she chose a seat, and waited with her hand up to be noticed. Today was Dorian's day, if she remembered correctly. Maybe Dorian knows of her mark, since he was a self proclaimed artist, famous enough for galleries.

She leaned back a bit, surprised to hear a new voice. Scrunching her face up, Bell stared at the girl, and determined she meaned well enough. With a grin, and having lowered her arm already, she replied, "Why, hello there! I'd like a lager, full cup. You must be new, eh? I'm Bell. Is Dorian training you?"

There were the sounds of new people entering the bar, some joining friends, from the bits of conversation Bell caught from behind her. She adjusted her collar, and stood from her seat momentarily to adjust her slacks, looking around for any potential trouble before re-seating herself.

Bell's friendly smile hadn't left, and she watched the creation of her drink when it happened, a bit excited to slake her thirst with a chilled, frothy beer. She wasn't going to be allowed to drink too much tonight, so two glasses of this will have to do it for her.

"Oh, I totally forgot: He's going to his brother's wedding! Darn." The bartender had already moved on, so Bell was left sipping her drink, and listening in on others'. Mostly just talks of the live shows this weekend, and last, and some folks were complaining about deadlines comin' up. Her eyes were roaming the bar, now that she had her back to it, and her beer held in one hand.

It seemed a group of students studying, well, trying and failing, and mostly friends hanging out. Over some time, she heard the bell ring, and saw a group of 3 entering the building. They looked around, passing their eyes over the bar and room, before settling in a seat between them and her.

Bell's eyebrow quirked up, as she didn't recognize any of them, and there was enough room at the bar for more space between them. Bell turned back around, and called out for the bartender first, "Excuse me, miss? Could I get some chips, please?" The new folks weren't talking, but neither were they taking an initative to make an order. This was odd, and remembered she should be on moderate alert at least.