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She had been studying the unlikely group of people who had begun to gather, but it was Randolph who held her eye. Their eyes had met more than once in the few minutes since she'd been escorted into what appeared to be a reception area -- though, despite its size, on any other occasion it could easily serve as someone's living room. It wasn't just posh. It was lush. Whoever owned the Phoenix Group and had gathered them all together was beyond wealthy. And it showed.

Messalina smiled and turned to greet the the young woman who had just been ushered in. "Messalina Bishop," she said. "Just call me Messa. Everyone does."

"Chloe. Chloe Sutton."

The man who had come in just after her, raised his head and looked at her boldly when she spoke, almost as if he'd recognized her name. As she'd said to Lucy the night before... curiouser and curiouser.

Truth was, she was grateful that Chloe had chosen that moment to arrive, giving her the opportunity to break the ice by speaking first. The little group, which was growing almost by leaps and bounds, seemed quite diverse, though there had to be some sort of commonality among them. Something aside from the fact that they all seemed to be holding similar letters.

Messalina had spotted a wet bar when she'd come in and gestured with a tilt of her head for Chloe to follow her, speaking as she walked. "Anybody thirsty? I'm parched. So... Where are you from, Chloe? Me, I live here in the Village."

Walking behind the bar, she looked up as Randolph's piercing eyes met hers yet again. "You don't mind, do you, Randolph?" What was it with this guy and the looks?