Diana had probably went home by now, but Kayla's night was just beginning. That is, to say, there was a man with a gun a few minutes later.

The Rosy Dawn was a pretty well known bar despite its rather small size. Everyone knew who the brothers who ran the place were, and everyone was quite certain that they were rich (the means of which were generally agreed upon to be Quite Shady and Most Definitely Illicit). So it was quite normal for some foolish thief to try a break in. It was common enough that Kayla estimated that there was about one every month.

The man who now stood at the threshold of the door seemed panicked and scared. He had messy tan hair that looked like it hadn't been cared for in weeks, and wore a ratty old white trench-coat which had almost completely undergone metamorphosis into a brown coat from dirt. He was holding a pistol, turning around and pointing it at people. The patrons seemed scared, though the regulars continued on with their conversations in a slightly quieter tone. Draco, ever the calm man, stood calmly in front of the man with his hands behind his back. The expression he wore was the same as usual, though somehow even more emotionless. All this danger was bound to get boring after awhile.

"Place the gun on the ground and leave." Draco stated.

The man hesitated, visibly shaking. Kayla was aware of how thin this man was, and how terrified. He kept the gun up though, now pointed at Draco.

"Place the gun. On the floor. And leave." Said Draco carefully, with deliberate enunciation on each syllable.

The man did not place the gun on the floor. Nor did he leave. Despite all the shaking and general nervousness, the man was still quite capable of shooting the gun, and indeed, hitting a stationary target. The gunshot disturbed the room, and indeed even the regulars (who were quite used to the strange happenings of the bar) seemed quite shocked. More so when they realized who had actually been shot. The trench-coated man finally dropped the gun and fled.

Kayla, who had never seen anyone get shot before, was quite appalled by all the blood and bleeding that was involved. However, she felt it was common sense to go check on how Draco was doing before passing out or doing anything else unreasonable. He had fallen over, clutching the spot on his chest where the bullet had hit.

Kayla ran to his side, doing her best to support him. She honestly had no idea what to do, and hoped someone had the sense to call an ambulance. Blood was gushing from the hole in his ever so clean suit, coating it in warm red blood. Kayla placed her hand over Draco's, which was doing a poor job of holding the blood back. He weighed her down as she supported him, and at some point she was vaguely aware that he started to weigh more. She moved away and he slumped to the floor, blood beginning to pool around him.

Draco had just died. Someone probably ought to tell Scorpio, but it wasn't going to be Kayla. She just wanted to sit here for a bit and let everything sink in. She honestly never knew Draco well at all, nor did she really like him much. But he was dead on the floor, and she felt that deserved her remorse. Because suddenly there was a realm of possibilities that she had never quite realized. Extra paths that she could have gone down that were now quite impossible. There was some sort of dull realization settling that she would never, for example, hear his voice. Not like there was anything particularly interesting about his voice. It was just that she would never hear him again.

Because he was dead. And she did not know him at all. She closed his dark eyes, which for once did not seem intimidating, but rather quite sad.

Kayla took a breath and cried. It felt very appropriate for once.

Kayla went home early without a word so that she could consult fate. It was probably fate's fault Draco died, and for once she was curious. She lived in a fair sized apartment with her roommate, Rebecca. Diana came from a family who just bought her a house when it came time for her to move out (they had been disappointed their daughter had decided to not go to college, and had only bought her a regular house in the suburbs), but Kayla had no family and was really lucky to have met Becca, who ended up paying for most of the rent. Becca was a dentist, age 36. It was sort of strange to live with someone who was much older than her, but she knew Becca and they were close friends.

Everything was very neat and clean in the apartment, a habit of Becca's. Kayla's own room was messy in the way she liked it, it was just very homely to her. She placed her bag by the door and when she looked back in her room, fate was waiting for her.

Fate was a person of indeterminable age and gender with golden hair and blue eyes. Fate referred to himself as male, so Kayla just stuck to that. Kayla didn't really know who Fate was, but he called himself Fate and he seemed pretty wise. She was pretty sure he was some sort of divine being, like an angel. She was pretty sure angels had golden hair and bright blue eyes.

Plus, he was always right. She was skeptical of him at first, but he had yet to be wrong. So whenever he appeared in her room, she did what he said. Due to his apparent psychic ability, Kayla fully expected him to be just as emotionally distraught as she was.

Instead, he looked blankly up at Kayla with a light smile on his face. "How are you doing today?" He asked pleasantly.

Kayla didn't humor him with an answer. Her eyes were blotchy and her face was stuck in a scowl. Even if he didn't know how she was feeling, he ought to have been able to realize it was negative.

"Not good then?" Fate looked genuinely shocked. Kayla did like him, honestly, but his often cheery personality felt incredibly fake. And yet it was the only one he seemed to have.

"Someone died," she said, taking a seat on her bed.

"I wasn't aware you and Draco were so close. I'm truly sorry for your loss." Said Fate soundly like a prerecorded message that someone might send in a card because they did not know how to feel empathy for you in any other way.

Kayla tried to put on her best brooding face, "I do hope you weren't responsible for this."

"I was not responsible for this." He seemed to have gone into his Basic Response Mode, as Kayla mentally called it. Whenever she tried a touchy subject, Fate would only respond in agreeing repeats. Kayla had taken this to mean he was lying, as there was no reason someone being truthful would act so strangely.

There was silence. It was always awkward when someone outstayed their welcome, and it was even worse when the person was probably incapable of realizing this. Fate just looked at Kayla, with a wide smile and unblinking eyes. It was unbearably creepy, even though she tried to pretend she had gotten over it at this point. He did this almost every time, after all.

Abruptly, Fate stood up. "I must go," He said, never breaking his jovial expression.

Fate left through the window. It was phrase that was more poetic than it actually was. There was a roof below her window, and Fate ran along it and disappeared behind a corner. Kayla liked to imagine that was the point he whipped out his wings and flew away, but that was a pretty silly thought. He probably just jumped through another window.