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One could call her return to Las Vegas as her return home, except that Faustina didn't so much care for the concept of home. Her home was wherever she decided that she wished to be at the time. Probably why though she owned an apartment, the place hadn't even been decorated in all the years she had owned it. As a member of the Inner Circle, she lived at the Elari Corporation, not on the top floors, but near it.
Michael had been gracious enough to bring her all the way home and then make himself scarce while she attended to her toilet. Yes, she needed a shower and to change her clothes. Having to deal with no one for nearly three years, and thus being slightly out of touch with just the sound of other human voices, she needed a little bit of time to get herself back together.
In her closet were three pairs of dress pants, a half dozen shirts (all of them white), a set of black jackets, and a pair of shoes. There was a dresser with under garments in it, things she didn't so much care to wear. Either way, she stepped across the floor and into the bathroom. There was a bath tub, shower, toilet, and sink...all of them beautifully appointed. The woman barely noticed them as she reached over to turn the water on. She could take a bath later. Right now, she needed to make herself presentable and go find out what exactly was going on. Michael gave her a few tantalizing details and it made her slightly interested, but not much more than that. It was hard to get Faustina terribly interested in things involving still living people. Give her long dead philosophers any day over the living people and their emotions and problems. They tended to make her absolutely insane.
She slipped into the shower and back out quickly. Then moved to get dressed. Black pants, white shirt, black jacket. Short black hair slicked away from her forehead. Fully dressed, she contacted the front desk to ask where Ms. Madore could be found. It was a Saturday, she shouldn't have been in the office, but she wasn't at home either.
Apparently the woman was at Black Velvet. So Faustina went to the club to see her. Her face was hardly one that many people recognized, largely because she was rarely around. So it was hardly a surprise that she would be stopped at the door.
"Fiona Neilsen for Josephine Madore, please," she remarked to the door guard. He didn't know her. So she waited patiently for one of those around him to go find the woman.
The house was quiet for a little while, that was until people began to arrive for the meeting. It wasn't a must and it was open to everyone who could make it. Brett was sat atop a kitchen counter, back to the kitchen as she gazed out over the collection of people who had turned up. There was already some chattering going on, people catching up on this and that and Brett let the chatter wash over her, calming her nerves and grounding her some.
The kitchen and dinning room are open plan, a large oak table with numerous mismatched seats sits in the center of the dinning room while french doors, which open out onto a patio, lets in a lot of light.
After a moment she coughed, hopfully loud enough to carry over the noise of the others and shifted in her seat as the noise level dropped enough. "I thought it'd be a good idea to get everyone together after...what happened. We need to talk about the next step, what is going to happen, where we go from here. I don't think any of us expected what we saw, what happened, I know I didn't expect to. So, what do we do about it?"
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