Eliza strode through the throngs of people. She saw Bachman grab a glass of punch and pretend to sip and became impressed. For someone not used to this, he sure picked up on things. She found a tray of wine and took a glass with her, doing the same.

They stopped at one wall and leaned against it. Bachman stood a few feet away, pretending to be a separate party. Eliza steeped closer to Poppy, who's eyes followed the party was a sparkle of excitement.

"See that man?" she whispered. "Over there? Talking to that taller man? That's Thomas Portello: son to the crime boss of the Falcon's rival gang, the East Side Bullets. If anything, we might have luck talking to him."

She pretended to sip and glanced at Poppy. "If we're going to go over there, we should be careful. Almost everyone here is a mobster or some very important corrupted politician. These people have money, power and lots of guns on their person. Extreme caution must be made. Got that, Hamilton?"

At the corner of her eye, Bachman nodded so slightly it was hard to tell if he moved at all.

"I guess we should start making our way over there." Eliza whispered.

With Poppy close by and Bachman tagging closely behind, Eliza strode towards Thomas. This is easy, this is easy, she told herself confidently. She gave Poppy a quick nod.

Thomas was sitting against the counter of the bar, facing the crowd and talking to another man around his age. They were laughing, and the conversation didn't seem to show any buisness-like auras.  Eliza began to think about her profiles she had in her filing cabinet back at the office and recognized his face from a profile but she remembered the file being organized in a lesser criminal folder. She pushed the thought out of her mind. Right now, Portello was the one they needed to talk to.

Eliza leaned against the bar beside him. She saw Thomas glance at Poppy and her with a glimmer of interest. That was a good enough sign in Eliza's book.

"Great party." she smiled, her voice suddenly turing deeper and her persona becoming mature and calm. She tipped her glass in his direction. "Come here often?"

Bachman kept an eye on the two as an older woman attempted to start a conversation with him. He could tell that Flanagan had felt something by the way she went a bit rigid in the back- and it concerned him... not so much out of worry for her, but more a worry that someone might notice. The woman talking to him had an annoyingly large, gaping red maw of a mouth, moving so fast he could barely keep up. She seemed to think that he was someone she knew, from the way she was talking to him. He nodded and grunted in at her short and far between pauses, pretending to listen to her as his eyes gazed around the crowd and occasionally settling on the two girls at the bar.

A large man, built like a brick wall, walked in through one of the side doors. He looked around the room dumbly before stalking his way to the bar and settling at the far end. Turning his steely eyes to the left he gazed along it till he found who he was looking for- Portello. He had just gone to the bathroom for a minute and already the kid was already chatting it up with a couple of birds. Scoffing, he almost didn't notice the bartender walk up and place a scotch on the rocks in front of him.
"Admiring the kid's skills, Randy?" Randy's eyes snapped up to the bartender, and he gave the man a lopsided smile.
"Boss jus' said to keep an eye on 'im, so that's what I'm doin'." The bartender shook his head and walked over to another patron as Randy picked up his drink. Lazy work, he thought as he took a drink of it. At least everyone else was getting to have fun.

"Goodness..."  Poppy giggled.  "My first night in the city and I've met a gangster...  I may have to stay in Chicago longer than I first planned!"
"You should."  Portello said with a nod.  "Plenty of things to see.  You're from the South, right?"  Poppy was startled for a minute. 
"I'm from Texas, yes... but how on earth did you know that?"  She asked incredulously.  Portello laughed.
"Your accent's pretty faint, but I've got good ears."  He grinned.  Suddenly, he stopped, noticing the man at the far end of the bar.  His expression momentarily contorted into something that Poppy knew was not at all normal.
"If you two lovely ladies would excuse me,"  He said, standing up, "I believe I need to speak with one of my associates."
"Oh, it's no trouble."  Poppy said sweetly.  "I was just about to go powder my nose, anyway!"  She stood as well, looking back at Eliza and hoping she got the signal.

[[DUDE that comic is going to rock so hard. I'm excited! <3<3<3 ]]

Bernardo watched carefully as the man they were talking to excused himself and made his way to the other end of the bar. Well that was a bit odd, he though, as he excused himself (rather rudely) from the woman's conversation (not that she seemed to notice, she turned to the next available ear) and carefully maneuvered his way over by the two men. He took a seat at the bar and set his punch on it, putting on a serious face that screamed "leave me alone or else I just got turned down by a woman"... or, at least, that was what he had been told it was. He fidgeted with his glass in a normal fashion, pretending not to be listening to the men sitting a few seats away.

Randy raised his drink as Portello approached him. "Evening, kid. How's the party?" A lopsided smile spread over his face again as he took another drink from his glass. "You've got some pretty birds hangin' off your shoulders tonight, hoss."

As they began to walk away, it suddenly hit Poppy.  This was real.  They could all be in danger right now, if she didn't pull her own weight.  For some reason, her heart began to pound, almost to the point that it was painful.  She let Eliza pull her around a corner, then leaned heavily against the wall, her face pale even in the dim light.
"I-I don't know what it was..."  She murmured, shaking her head, "but it was definitely coming from Thomas.  Something's off about him.  But I've never sensed anything like it before."  She pushed her headband back, letting out a shaky sigh. 
"Ellie, I don't even know if it's a demon or not.  It's so strange...  I don't know what to do now."  She looked at her friend, her lower lip quivering.  "I don't know."

"O-oh.  Right."  Poppy took a deep breath, then readjusted her headband.  "Let's go." 

Once she re-entered the mass of the party, she felt slightly better.  Portello caught sight of the two of them, and he nodded slightly.  Poppy pushed a stray curl behind her ear and sat down at the bar next to him.
"Didn't keep you waiting, did we?"  She asked coyly.
"Not a bit."  He said.  "Hope I didn't scare you off."  He added, sipping his drink.  She shook her head.
"So...  What were you boys talking about over there?"  She asked innocently.  His face darkened, and Poppy's heart began to race again.
"I'm afraid, miss...  Rebecca, was it?  That that is highly confidential information."  He took a sip of his drink again, and his normal grin returned.
"One thing you need to learn about the big city, doll..."  He picked up a glass of wine from a passing tray and slid it toward her.  "Sometimes, the less you know about something... the better off you'll be."