[Jason's evening desc]
This late-teens/early-twenties young man is just a little shorter than average, maybe about 5'10" or so. Though relatively formally attired for this function, his wardrobe is still a bit rumpled, the victim of an incomplete ironing job. The shirt underneath his slightly rumpled tuxedo jacket is a clean white, but also poorly ironed. His short dark hair is gelled into place, slicked down into place by force. He definitely seems to have some sort of penchant for silver jewelry--his single ear cuff (on the left ear), herringbone necklace, two rings, and cufflinks are all silver. His deep brown eyes are alert and perceptive, glancing around the area constantly.

Dr. Clark is still fiddling with the microphone at the front of the hall, standing behind the podium. Its apparently pretty early; only a few people have shown up.

Gillian is seated at the table on the left side of the podium, drumming her short nails against the surface idly.

Ling shows her pass to the guards before heading directly towards Dr. Clark, satchel slung over her shoulder. As she approaches she slings the bag off and checks around her before taking off her jacket and setting it in the seat marked with her name on it. Ooh, placeholders, special. "Hello Gillian," she smiles pleasantly to her co-labrat. "Dr. Clark," she calls to the man up at the podium. Satchel goes with her, jacket does not.

Dr. Clark glances over at Ling, looking relieved. "I was afraid you weren't going to show up," he jokes, his voice suddenly loud throughout the half-filled room. He back away from the podium and speaks quietly with her.

Jason is looking around the hallway idly, sometimes making verbal notes into a miniature tape recorder as he wanders the hall.

Gillian watches both Ling and the doctor; she smirks briefly, and says, "I doubt she'd miss _this_ celebration of discovery."

The red-jacketed security guard checks John's ticket against a list before letting him in. There's a coat check just to the right of the entrance with a bored-looking coat check girl whose nametag says 'Mandy.'

Ling smirks right back. "And if you like we'll have to name part of the specimen after you too. Gillianus simus." She grins and turns to the professor to speak with him quietly.

Dr. Clark whispers "Everything ready?"

"Oh, you better name it after me," Gillian proclaims, with a laugh.

You whisper "Not quite. My laptop was stolen not too long ago, and I still haven't retrieved it. But no worries. I have some backups, but I'll need a hook up, or an overhead."" to Dr. Clark.

Dr. Clark tsks at Ling, frowning and shaking his head. "That's just too bad. I can get one. Let me check, I think we resreved it..." He turns and disappears into one of the draped side halls, returning about five minutes later and whispering to Ling again.

Enter Glissa, flustered, beaming, and trying to manage unusually formal and conservative clothing including sensible pumps. She heads optimistically in the direction of the podium, no one more surprised than herself to discover her seat has been successfully reserved.

Dr. Clark whispers "Alright, the hall has one built in. Its inside the podium. I'm glad they're better organized than I am."

Dr. Clark turns, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief, and spies Glissa as she makes her way through the growing crowd. Face breaking into a smile, he approaches her, squeezing her hand once he reaches her side. "My dear, you look truly lovely. This way..." He leads her to the right of the podium.

Ling in the meantime sets up her stuff. Overheads just in case, along with presentation notes. She looks a bit nervous, though it's only presenting the university's find and credibility to the city's most famous, media-spastic folks and then some. She nods to Dr. Clark and slips out a CD. Hurrah for technology. That is slipped into the podium's computer drive and the Power Point presentation slides set up.

A tall, scarred man in a well-cut tux comes in with a stunning young brunette on his arm--the woman about a foot shorter, presenting a delicate contrast to her looming escort.

Tickets are checked against a master list with a thoroughness usually reseved for signatures at banks, and people are motioned in to their seats, where servers are beginning to set out salads at some of the tables nearest the kitchen. Bustling activity by four bookish persons at the head of the hall indicates the direction the attention should be directed. Its quite obvious more than a few guests are members of the press; large professional cameras are evident at more than one table.

Glissa takes Dr. Clark's hand. She doesn't exactly sail into her chair with grace, but her smile makes up for physical awkwardness as she is gratefully steered to her place. "Lovely? You've been looking at bones too long again, Mark."

Ling finishes with the main setup, and then returns to the table to sit down beside Gillian. The two of them share some idle chatter while the waiting commences. Talk about Ling's notes, and other projects as well as how well or how badly dressed some of the guests are goes on quietly.

Rina winces, and glances over to John. "Plenty of cameras," she says darkly. Glancing about, she chews on her lower lip a little--like an oddly shy couture goddess, in her wispy excuse for a dress.

[Rina's banquet desc]
Dark-brown eyes, touched with hazel and amber, look out from a pixie-sharp face. Rina's skin is fair, but not quite pale--a light Mediterranean olive from generations of pure Italian ancestry. Black-dyed hair, tipped with white ends for the last half-inch, frames her features in a butch cut straight from anime: long enough to send spikes down into her eyes, tapering to jagged shortness at sides and back. Her chin is delicately-boned, her mouth small, the line of her jaw well-defined: an Italian beauty, a Michelangelo's muse turned modern. She can't be more than twenty, but a certain hard cynicism shows in her expressions. She carries herself with streetwise confidence and lean athletic grace.
She wears an insubstantial slipdress of grey silk georgette, beaded and interlaced with silvery-green threads of color. The spaghetti straps and a fluttery, uneven hem in pointed layers only serve to add to the wispy, etheral look of the thing. Velvety grey boots rise to her knees; the square heels add a couple of inches to her height.

David Cox settles down at one of the tables, an empty chair beside him. The fedora has been hung on a hatrack near the front of the hall, though the wooden cane is leaned up against the table next to his seat.

Dr. Clark seats himself next to Glissa after waving Dr. Murphy down to his table, mopping his brow with his handkerchief again, but smiling. "Well, I think everything's about ready to go. I don't know if I can partake in this..." he pokes at the slightly wilted lettuce with his fork, "...ah, sumptuous repast, but I'll have a go at it."

Dr. Murphy nods to the man who checks his ticket, then makes his way into the hall. He finds Dr. Clark and heads over to him.

John eyes the room, critically, and leans down a little to murmur quietly in reply to his partner. "See anyone you recognize?" he enquires, softly. Scanning the room, himself for people, now.

Glissa looks down at the food, a bit crestfallen, but smiles patronizingly and makes the best of it. "Well, I suppose if one eats at a university one must dine with the troops," she whispers to Dr. Clark in a low voice, nodding towards his passle of graduate students. Her eyes drift around the table, lips thinning only slightly as she picks out a few familiar faces. David Cox, in particular, gets a polite wave.

Rina looks the tables over, and then her eyes catch on a woman toward the front of the hall. "One, anyway. She gestures toward Glissa's table.

Ling pokes at the salad lettuce, giving it some wary looks. True, she didn't have to pay for the dinner. But... is it dinner? She's a little nervous to boot, and the increase of people coming in, and cameras being set up, well not doing much to calm her. Her satchel is nowhere to be found, possibly in the podium's small cabinet.

With a hand going up to remove the bright beret from his head, the normally reserved doctor cuts quite a figure. His hair cut perfectly, his uniform; impeccable. The man himself wears a wry grin at his own tardiness and an with a bit of prompting from the ticket taker, makes his way to his seat. The light catches the minatures of the medals on his chest as well as the gold braid. The white letters of the name tag gleam. 'St. Jean'. Alec, good doctor of St. Claire arrives to view the 'marvelous' attraction.

Rina murmurs, "Redheaded lady in that dark-brown dress, kinda frumpy-looking? Met her once, with family. I think she was married to someone."

Jason picks at the food, not really eating the salad nor the entree despite the price someone paid for this meal. Instead, he's still making verbal notes into his minirecorder.

John follows Rina's eyes to the table, and one corner of his mouth twitches upwards in faint, near-smile. "Perhaps we should hob-nob? Get reacquainted? I know I recognize the good Doctor St. Jean..." he suggests, slightly gruffly.

David Cox smiles and waves back to Glissa before eating his dinner heartily. He, at least, does not seem to be chosy with the meal. He looks around some, eyes glazing over once in a while as he listens to the man talking next to him.

Dr. Murphy approaches Dr. Clark with a bright smile just visble through his thick beard. "Good evening, Dr. Clark. Everything running smoothly so far, I take it?"

Rina nods, sliding her arm from his to steady the strap of her evening bag. Which is much too small to conceal a decent weapon in. "D'you know which table we're supposed to be at?"

During the course of the meal several reporters attempt to jump the gun, coming up to the main table and badgering Ling and Dr. Murphy as well as Dr. Clark. All are answered firmly over the low background music, "There will be a period after the unveiling for questions from the audience. Please, take your seats, and remember no flash photography and no lights. This _is_ a museum."

Ling intersperses grazing with some polite chatter, nodding to some of the press members that come up and greet the lowly Grad students of Dr. Clark. Fighting off media wolves isn't something she's used to and she glances gratefully at Dr. Clark as most of them back off. Graze, graze..

Dr. Clark smiles and nods back. "As well as could be expected, my good man. Have you met Dr. Glissa Nicholson? Glissa, this is Dr. Murphy. You ready for your big debut?"

Glissa smiles and utters the vague pleasantries of academia at Dr. Murphy. "I think we chatted at Dr. Salkevar's seminar on carbon dating the new evidence for the trans-Aleutian land bridge migration last August."

John does a quick check, looking for the table number they've been given. Gesturing with a nod, he looks to one table - with Jason and a few others at it - and murmurs. "Yes. This way." So saying, he offers up his arm again, to lead Rina to the table.

Rina slides her arm through his, and makes her way to the table. As she sits down, her brow furrows a little. "Excuse me--?" She leans a little forward, studying Jason. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

Speaking quietly with the people at his table, Alec seems content to enjoy the food and the atmosphere. Laughing at something one of the 'blue hair brigade' at his table says. He is the perfect example of an officer and a gentleman. His eyes did not miss Mr. Smith, nor his companion. They do catch the head table, but beyond tv and newspaper footage, he has not seen any of them before.

Dr. Murphy turns his bushy smile on Glissa and extends a hand. "Oh yes, I remember. I didn't agree with their findings at all. But that's that." To Dr. Clark, he says, "Ready as I'll ever be, I suppose." He shows Dr. Clark and Glissa a few 3x5 cards with notes written on them, then returns them to his inside jacket pocket.

Jason looks up at Rina, startled. "Hunh? Uhh ... maybe? I'm Trey Wright, reporter for the university paper."

Glissa shakes hands cordially and settles down to deal with the perils of a thoroughly cowed salad.

Rina tips her head a little. "I'm bad with names. But I think I've seen you around Harbor Park once or twice." She offers a tentative, wry smile and a slender hand. "Rina."

Ling grazes for a little more minutes, before finally stabbing the last tomato. Her eyes just sort of meander around the room, taking things in.

Dr. Murphy makes his way around the table and finds his seat, then starts in on his salad.

Chicken and green beans and rice are brought out in quick succession. The place is nearly filled now, and the low murmur of conversation drowns out the elevator music that plays over hidden loudspeakers. The crowd is getting anxious now that the (very average) food is disappearing.

John merely watches the exchange between his partner and Mr. Wright. Waiting to be introduced, and occasionally sending suspicious glances around the room.

Jason shakes the offered hand. "Yeah, I've been around there once or twice. Decent place to skate." He looks around as more food comes out, then shakes his head. "So what brings you to this elegant feast?" he asks Rina.

Rina lifts one shoulder slightly. "I know some faculty and students," she answers. A gesture toward John, and she introduces the tall man to her new friend. "This's John Smith..."

Ling and Gillian exchange some more idle conversation, until the next courses are served and they both give their plates some experimental pokes. "Could be lab rat," Ling remarks just jokingly, while getting a shortly unamused glance from the waiter. She shrugs and smiles back pleasantly.

John gives a brief nod, and a measuring look. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Wright." he says, smoothly, in a deep, low voice.

Dr. Murphy doesn't seem to mind the quality of the food. After he's finished his salad, he gets up briefly to discuss something with the head of the security guards in the hall, then returns to his seat.

Dr. Clark makes idle chitchat with Glissa as he picks at his food, more nervous than his easygoing demeanor lets on. Finally he checks his watch and leans over to check that Dr. Murphy is ready and everything is alright. "We're about to start."

Rina nibbles idly at the food, not eating a great deal--more intent on the goings-on at her table and a few others.

Jason's eyebrows go up at the large man's introduction. "Nice ta meecha. Wonderful food, no?" he asys sarcastically. "You'd think that for a hundred bucks a plate, they could at lesat afford Mickey D's."

Dr. Murphy nods to Dr. Clark and prepares for his speech, riffling once more through his notes.

John's mouth quirks a little, in a wry smile. "I've had worse." he notes, eyeing the food, and eating it quietly, with little ceremony. After wiping his mouth with a napkin to take a drink, he adds, "But I usually eat better."

Glissa tells Dr. Clark warmly, in spite of the congealed beans, "Break a leg." She pauses, considers her words, and adds apologetically, "Preferably not that of Mr. Bones."

Dr. Clark chuckles and pats Glissa's hand. "Thank you. I hope you enjoy them." And with that, he rises and walks to the podium. The music stops. And a few flashbulbs go off from the news contingent.

Rina rolls her eyes heavenward briefly. "Institutional food," she murmurs, wrinkling her nose.

Ling stuffs what she can, washing it down with water from wine glasses and vaguely wishing for some actual wine to soothe the nerves. Her eyes go to Dr. Clark, waiting. A brow arches... any time now?

Finishing the salad and the chicken in short but polite order Alec's attention is grabbed by flash bulbs. Turning toward he looks to the head table to watch the festivities. His attention is full on the presenters as the exhibit will no doubt be of interest to him... as a member of the medical community of course.

Dr. Clark clears his throat, tapping the microphone and glaring at the photographers. "This on? Yes, well." He clears his throat again. "Allow me to welcome you to the Museum of Fine Art At St. Claire City University. My name is Dr. Mark Clark. Allow me to lay down some ground rules before we begin." Here he glares at the photographers again. "Flash photography is _expressly forbidden_. Any lights of any such magnitude are damaging to the various works of art on the walls and in the cases here. Anyone from this point on who uses flash or lights will be escorted from the buliding." He gives them a long look, and several television cameramen put down their cameras in disgust, shrugging at their silently furious anchors.

Rina lets out a breath, and smiles. She almost looks... relieved.

Jason grins just a bit. "Nice to be in print," he mutters under his breath.

Ling is about as relieved as Rina, though she is still eyeing the various cameras and silently praying for everything to go smoothly. A hand subconciously reaches up to finger at the pendant around her neck.

Dr. Clark smiles at the discomfort and continues. "Now then. I know why you're all here, so I'll keep the pleasantries brief, and thank you for paying the admittedly exorbitant sum that will help us in our continuing reserach of this fascinating find. Here to tell us about the circumstances surrounding this is Doctor Paul Murphy. Dr. Murphy?" He offers a sweeping gesture to the man so named, then begins the applause.

Dr. Murphy stands and walks over to the podium, smiles and nods to Dr. Clark, then steps up to the microphone.

Glissa manages to send a spoon careening like a hockey puck across her table and into the nearest one as she begins to clap enthusiastically.

Rina claps politely, and then murmurs a yes to the waiters who have begun to pour coffee and so on.

Dr. Clark retrieves it as he sits down and listens.

Ling uses the brief period of applause to make sure her notes are still beside her plate. Whew. Paranoia. With a hand set on her papers, and a foot by her bag underneath the tablecloth, she gazes towards Dr. Murphy expectantly.

David Cox applauds politely, though most of his attention is on the sheet-covered object. He rubs his left hand absently, perhaps not noticing the slight cut on his palm.

Some cameras click and whir, but for the most part even the television anchors have gone back to the old standby of taking notes as Dr. Murphy begins to speak.

Dr. Murphy nods to the audience. "Thank you very much, ladies and gentlemn, Dr. Clark. Well, I hope you're all as excited as I am tonight, because we have a real treat for you tonight. It's not often that one witnesses the discovery of something completely new to science and I think you should all feel lucky that you're here tonight. As for myself, I was one of the people involved with the discovery from the beginning. The university had been contacted by a hunter named Jerry who had discovered something interesting in the woods near Kent Crossing. He though we might like to have a look at it. So I and my colleagues Ling Chan and Gillian Schroeder drove out to investigate. I was asked to join them because of my expertise in cryptozoology, which is the science of searching for species unknown to science. The find was apparently unusual enough to warrant a claim of it being a sasquatch, more commonly known as Bigfoot. Of course, I jumped at the chance to investigate the find and possibly make a new discovery. I wasn't sure what to expect when I went out to the woods that night."

Glissa flushes the color of her blouse and makes apologeetic motions at nearby diners before settling back to listen. Her gaze, too, keeps darting towards the sheet, but the most observant may note a pensiveness in her glance.

There's a few undercurrents of muted laughter, chuckles, possibly from the direction of the press corps, as the doctor pronounces the name of Bigfoot.

Ling shoots a couple of glances towards the press. Surely they'd be more believing of all that hoohah since they're willing to print it. Ah well. She and Gillian nod slightly to each other in knowing what they did find. They're in for a treat.

"So is it or is it not Bigfoot?" comes a query from the press tables. Heads turn, along with some 'you tell it's and things of like connotation.

Rina's eyes narrow slightly and she glances toward the press, trying to pick out the source of the question.

Dr. Murphy clears his throat irritably at the interruption. "Please save your questions until after the unveiling, thank you." He continues, "After a bit of hiking, Jerry led us to an area he had marked earlier with a red handkerchief. We soon discovered bones that had weathered out of the local topsoil. It looked nearly complete, with the skull intact and little degradation. As soon as I saw the skull, I knew that we had something very interesting. At first my colleagues had thought it to be some sort of bear, but on closer examination we decided that it was more akin to wolves. I surmised that it may be a new species of dire wolf, which was a large prehistoric canine, roughly twice the size of a modern wolf. I thought it might have lived in this area some time since the end of the last ice age, about 11,000 years ago. Whatever it was, it needed more study in a laboratory environment. We uncovered the skull and removed it, bringing it back to the laboratory at SCCU. We later went back to retrieve the remaining bones and carefully transported them as well to the university. After months of painstaking, meticulous preparation work, cleaning, making casts and mounting, we finally have something to show for you tonight, ladies and gentlemen. I think you'll be very pleased at the results."

Glissa unconsciously clasps her hands together in her lap, clutching her wedding ring tightly. Her expression is that of someone preparing to be gracious about a gift given by an in-law. Possibly a giant plastic frog.

Jason watches with a polite interest, making some notes on a notepad and more on his minirecorder.

Ling hms quietly, not thinking Dr. Murphy would bring out that fact so soon about the skeleton. "So much for added suspense, eh?" She murmurs quietly to herself. Her finger runs down the notes on the table before her, as she makes some mental changes to the highlights of the presentation.

Dr. Murphy smiles. "So now that you know how we found our discovery, I'll let Dr. Clark continue with the rest of the ceremony. Thank you very much. Dr. Clark?" He relinquishes the podium and walks back to his seat.

Waiters move quietly among the crowd, offering coffee and tea. One stops in front of David and politely asks him if he'd like some more.

Dr. Clark nods, standing and retaking the podium. "Thank you. May I present Ling Chan, graduate student and one of those working closely on the genetic make up of the find. Ling?" He moves back and stands next to the draped object.

David Cox is evidently still lost in thought, or perhaps asleep with his eyes open, as he fails to respond to the waiter in any way. The talkative man next to him looks at David for a moment, then rolls his eyes. "Well, if he's being a bump on a log, I'll have a coffee. Cream and sugar."

Rina glances to John, a taut look that conveys a great deal of information in some private language. She returns her attention to the podium, then, a flicker of worry in her eyes.

Glissa nods nervously as the waiter reaches her end of the table and mouths something that ends with, "and too much sugar."

The waiter nods and leans over the man, pouring the coffee for his more talkative neighbor...and upending Cox's ice water into his lap.

Ling stands up to some mild applause, gathering her notes and clearing her throat before she gets to the mic. She gives Dr. Clark a short nod, before bringing out the small built in computer and starting up her presentation. A flick of a switch brings down a screen just wide enough for the projector on the ceiling to stick a nice blue background and white text with a few graphics to start the 'high tech' powerpoint presentation. "Thank you Dr. Clark, Dr. Murphy," she says first. With a smile to the press and guests, she starts. "As Dr. Murphy said, we were lead to the excavation site of these bones out in the woods by Kent Crossing. The recent fires there had burnt some of the vegetation and exposed the bones. After numerous tests of both C-14 dating and DNA electrophoresis, we've come up with some... interesting results." She clicks a button and the first slide comes up displaying a scanned and digitally enhanced version of the skull's side and frontal views. "For one thing, we know that this creature was mainly carnivorous by basic observation. The skull's shape and the skeleton's overall size lead us to believe this was a prehistoric short-faced bear, Arctodus simus, or a relative to it. When you see the bones, we have them mounted in a fashion in which we believe the creature could have physically traveled and foraged."

Rina alternates sipping at her coffee and chewing on her lower lip, until she looks like a bee-stung model.

David Cox blinks suddenly, then stands up, causing a bit of a commotion over on that side of the hall. "I will, of course, be getting the money back from this," he says, firmly and not entirely quietly. "Much as I appreciate academia, I do /not/ make a habit of paying a hundred dollars to have cold water spilled in my lap." THe waiter blusters and tries to apologize as the environmentalist tries to use nearby napkins to dry his pants.

Rina puts a hand to her mouth to stifle amusement, awkwardly. She gives a rueful shake of her head, and has some more of her coffee.

Another slide flips, with some notes on it. "My emphasis was proving that the specimen found was genetically related to our modern day predators. Searching around, we ruled out that the specimen did not carry enough characteristics to be related to felines. Given the area's populations of wolves and bears, though, I proposed to compare the DNA of our present predators, along with some samples gotten from museums from California, the Smithsonian and other resources of dire wolves. The results..." She puts up a new slide. The chart on it compares grizzly, wolf, and Specimen. "The results, are 43% genetic relation to modern day gray wolves, and 20% grizzly bear." She glances at Dr. Clark, just for a few moments for ratification. Dr. Clark nods in encouragement, hand on a tassel that's obviously rigged to the sheet.

Glissa turns away from the slides to stare at David Cox, and then, brows crumpling together, at the waiter he's accosting. A brief flicker of doubt crosses her face.

"This, in itself, is proving to be a forefront in our observations and tests to reveal the specimen as a newly discovered species. It could in fact, be an ancestor to both wolf and bear, a link between carnivore and omnivore." Ling flips down another slide. "Timber wolf DNA has already been catalogued, much in the same manner that the famous project of the human genome has taken place. Given enough funding, the current goals will be to sequence some of the DNA and see if they really match up. There is one important twist to this find, though." She flips a slide. "This specimen, when I ran the DNA tests... turned out to be sterile. It's genetic makeup, consists of 61 chromosomes. That, as an odd number... makes it impossible given our current biological theories, to reproduce. Thus, this skeleton could be one of the dead end species that drowned in the gene pool."

Jason snorts over at the interruption. He mutters none too softly to Rina, "You'd think the university would take better care of its donors."

Glissa slumps back in her chair, relaxing ever so slightly as she turns her attention back to the lecture.

John eyes the indignant noise-maker with disinterest, lowering an eyebrow, and then checking the rest of the room. Could be a distraction... Either way, he doesn't appear to find anything interesting - or if he does, he keeps it to himself, and continues to watch the presentation.

David Cox continues to blot up as much water as possible using napkins and finally a towel brought by another server. His expression stays fairly dour, though he looks suspiciously at the waiter who spilled the water. He finally settles back into the empty seat next to his now-wet original seat and returns to listening to the lecture unhappily, eyes somewhat narrowed, lips pursed.

Rina purses her lips wryly, and glances over to him. "You'd think, yeah." Her eyes return to Ling, then, and narrow slightly. She nods minutely, casting a significant glance John's way before looking back to the grad student.

Catching the look, John leans over and whispers something to Rina; his eyes still on Ling, and the presentation.

Rina nods minutely at whatever he says, although her eyes remain on the presentation.

Ling watches the press as they carefully jot down all this information. Man does she feel like some professor standing in front of a bored class. "And finally, just some prospective dates on the age of this skeleton. When we sent our samples to the Smithsonian and University of Washington labs, they came back with some even more interesting results. Our speculated dates were about the time of arctodus simus or a little later, give or take a few thousand years during the Pleistocene epoch. No other living predator around this current era reaches the possible height of 3.5 meters tall and estimated weight of nearly 1 metric ton. The results from the Smithsonian, however, were dating this specimen...to a very recent period of one hundred and fifteen years." There's something.

A rather excited mutter goes through the audience, along with a rippling undercurrent of disbelieving laughter.

Glissa exhales quietly, shaking her head. "That's going to take a lot to swallow," she mutters.

Rina bites her lower lip, and drinks some more coffee without taking her eyes from the women. Her expression is set, neutral, but a touch of something grim shows at the edges.

Jason snorts once again. "Right," he mutters. "Sounds like a relative of the Cardiff Giant."

Rina shakes her head minutely. "Got to be a mistake," she says quietly. "I mean, carbon dating can really screw up sometimes."

Ling waits, quietly, for the laughter to subside. Well, at least they don't buy it either. "There is, an explanation for this as well," she continues after some mutters and murmurs have been exchanged and the banter going down to a more polite level. "C-14 dating bases its data on the amount of carbon on the sample. When an organism dies, its body begins to decay. It no longer makes the carbon-14 isotope. Being radioactive, scientists can measure the amount of C-14 within a specimen and attempt to date it. Unfortunately, this method of testing is highly unstable and if affected by the local environment of the specimen. Thus, given the fire history and the area it was found, the ashes of the burned forest could provide the extra carbon needed to send this specimen into our era." She glances around before finally settling on Dr. Clark and Murphy. "We will be attempting a more advanced form of dating using amino acids, to obtain better, perhaps more believable, results. And so with that... I think it's time to hand this show back over to Dr. Clark." She nods to the professor, and the lights switch back on, the screen working its way back up. Blip, the computer goes off, and the CD comes out.

Dr. Clark nods, raising his voice so that it carries across the hall, "And without further ado, the find." And pulls the cord. And nothing happens. He smiles sheepishly and claws the sheet off the glass case, revealing the skeleton.

Dr. Clark pages to the room: Feel free to +view bones

[+view on the bones]
A glass case, eleven feet high, houses a monstrous skeleton. Yellowed with age and quite complete, this bearlike beast stands on its hind legs, rearing up with one arm half-raised and the other stretching up at a forty-five degree angle from its body. Long wickedly curved claws reminiscent of a bear's stretch towards the audience, and the long slender muzzle is open to show the long sharp teeth within. The broad shoulders taper down to narrow hips and the legs look quite natural in this position. All in all a magnificent specimen of...whatever it is.

Glissa gives Ling a friendly thumb's up and a smile, regardless of private reservations-- and then stares transfixed at the skeleton. A shudder is quickly suppressed.

John lowers his head a little, and notes, softly, "Carbon dating is often imprecise, especially when the subject is only maybe ten or twenty years dead. Especially when the remains are found in an old, wooded area, like these apparently were."

Dr. Clark steps back up to the podium, announcing, "The panel will now take your questions. Please name the person to which your question is directed."

Ling smiles faintly back at Glissa, though her attention also goes to the others and their reactions to the skeleton. Some are shocked, some are writing vigorously, and some talk quietly amongst themselves before a massive array of hands go up.

A lanky reporter with hair slicked back and pen and paper stands up instead of waiting for the hands to be picked. "Dr. Clark! This whole time we have listened to the views of your colleagues, and we've heard brief snippets of your theory that this specimen was a short faced bear. In light of the information about wolves, what is your scientific opinion?"

Rina's jaw tightens a fraction as she studies the bones.

John's expression turns even more dour, and he flicks a sidelong glance to Rina, then back to the bones. Apparently somehow displeased by the sight.

Glissa can't help but shoot a glance towards Rina, whom she's been avoiding looking at the entire evening. The force behind it is faintly accusatory.

Dr. Clark glances at Dr. Murphy and Ling before answering this question. "Well, of course our views don't agree exactly..." He pauses at the chuckles from the more scientifically inclined members of the audience, "...but I personally feel that we may well have discovered a particular subspecies of short-faced bear that was somehow mutated unsuccessfully. Perhaps a rather unique mating occured between arctus and a heretofore unknown species of creature that may well have been a precusor to the modern bear or wolf. You see, based on genetic research it has been discovered that this particular specimen was sterile. Much as matings between close cousins such as donkeys and horses or lions and tigers, it may well be that this specimen was the result of breeding of two species that, while closely related, were just not close enough."

Rina takes a careful sip from her coffee, and wrinkles her nose. "Ew," she says simply, with a glance to John. Trying to take an edge off the tension.

The corners of John's mouth quirk upwards again, in response. Briefly.

Another repoter stands up as a flash goes off nearby. "Excuse me, Miss Chan? Are you suggesting that this thing may have been walking around when Lewis and Clark were here? If so, are there others, and if not, how old is it?"

Jason rolls his eyes at the reporter giving his avocation a bad name. "Try listening next time, you idiot," he mutters under his breath.

John's smile widens a little more at Jason's comment, but he keeps his eyes on the presenters, and the skeleton.

Glissa can't help but stare at the skeleton with a mixture of awe and something others might mistake for revulsion. She picks up a napkin absently and dabs at her eyes.

Ling inclines her head as a question is aimed at her. "It's not -my- results, sir. Only what the Smithsonian and UWashington came back with. As I noted before, it is quite possible that the modern environmental influences on the specimen could have altered results. We will be using a different method of dating to double check our steps in that area." She nods as a finality to her answer.

"So Dr. Clark, you're saying that a bear, and a wolf, or their ancestors anyway, mated with each other and produced this?" comes another reporter's query from the back. "I can see it now in the tabloids tomorrow... Bigfoot: Bastard Beast!" There's a round of laughter. Who ever said reporters weren't childish? Another voice pipes out. "But it was stated that the specimen could possibly be a mutation. Dr. Clark, mutations take thousands, possibly millions of years of develop. Given the history of mammals and evolution, where would you place it's actual date of existence since we have only been around a few million years?"

Dr. Clark frowns and motions a security guard over to the offending flasher. "We said no flash photography. And please ask your questions one at a time. I thing Ms. Chan" he emphasizes the name, "can answer both for you, as she's the one who's responsible for the dating."

"If the specimen is sterile, it's possible this was a freak occurence. It could just be a lucky find. There may or may not be others, and even so...digging up dinosaurs and prehistoric mammals with skeletons as intact as this isn't an everyday occurance." She glances at Dr. Clark, then back to the press. "As for the actual date, I mentioned we suspect it could be in the Pleistocene epoch, give or take a few thousand years. Amino acid dating will be the next step to determining an actual date."

Ling also adds, "Dr. Murphy is helping us in that area of our research." With a short look towards the cryptozoologist drinking his tea.

Dr. Murphy swallows, surprised his name came up, and stands, moving towards the podium, as someone else asks, "So is it Bigfoot or what?"

Dr. Murphy looks the crowd over before answering. "I, personally, do believe that creatures such as Bigfoot may indeed exist. I don't believe that this particular specimen is one of them. Bigfoot seems to most closely resemble Australopithecus Gigantus, and is supposed to be some kind of apelike creature with little if any muzzle. If you look at this creature, you'll notice its got quite a pronounced muzzle, more modern-day bear or wolf than short like arctus. That muzzle is the muzzle of a meat eater. So no, I do not believe its Bigfoot. I also believe that the soot from the fire that helped uncover the skeleton is what gave us such a recent date. I believe this find to be no less than 10,000 years old." He looks around, a bit warily. "Are there any questions from the audience that are NOT members of the press?" He asks wryly.

Glissa sits back with a quiet chuckle. "You let Murphy open up a can of worms there, Mark," she comments to Dr. Clark gently as the questions fly. "It'll get you more funding, I grant you, but perhaps from some odd sources."

Dr. Clark gives her a weary look of long-suffering. "I never thought I'd be doing this when I was in grad school."

Glissa gives Dr. Clark a supporting smile, expression still a bit strained. Perhaps it's better that she's stopped staring at the skeleton by now.

Ling chews on the inside of her lip, and glances over as a question from one of the locals who won a ticket via the radio giveaway pipes out. "So what do you call it??" Dr. Clark winces at that question, looking at Ling. "Uh, well... So far its been the just 'the specimen' or 'the find.' Since we don't know what exactly it IS, we're not sure what scientific name to --" Gillian pipes up. "Harry."

Glissa considers, and then asks, innocently, "Are there any plans to excavate in the area of the find, or is it safe to assume that, since it's sterile, it's a hapax legomenon, a unique occurence?"

Rina glances toward the woman's voice, sharply, and then nods quickly in tacit approval. "Way to go, Doc," she murmurs.

More laughter comes out from the press. Harry and the Hendersons, it is. Something for the media to chew over in their silly punalicious titles. Ling again glances at Dr. Clark, and shrugs. "If there is, we'll be using your generous donations to fund it." She smiles widely.

Glissa's smile fixes at the corners. "Oh, well, I'm glad we're paying for something more worthwhile than feeding the reporters," she says cheerily.

Dr. Clark glances at Glissa, pleased. "That's a wonderful question. Actually, we believe that the site where the specimen was found was not the spot where it actually uh...died. It apperaed to die a pretty violent death, by the way. You'll note the markings in the ribs, here..." He taps the glass, then frowns and peers in. "Hrm. Harry's looking a bit beat up. Apparently he died in some sort of fight. Probably over territory or food with an arctus, the claw marks are similar. At any rate, we beleive the site was not the location where it died, and there were no signs of a massive die-off. In point of fact, we probably wouldn't have found Harry at all if we hadn't had that forest fire. It cleared away the brush and the water being dumped by the copters may well have cleared enough silt and dirt away for the bones to be exposed to open air. Poor Harry had almost lost hs head from erosion when we found him. He was in pretty bad shape."

John murmurs lowly, "Now... what could kill something that stands 3.5 metres tall, and weighs one tonne?"

Rina chews on her lip, and elbows him gently. "Enough aready," she mutters.

Ling glances over at the table with the Walkers and Corax, giving them a thoughtful look before returning her attention to the mainstream. "If 'Harry' is also a mutation from the norm, it may have been a fight between its social groupings. Given the fact wolves are pack oriented, it may well have been a fight in its defense to stay, or dominance, or any number of behaviorial aspects that cannot be determined by merely looking at bones."

Dr. Clark nods to Ling. "Or maybe he was just in the wrong territory at the wrong time. Very few animals of this epoch died of old age. Any other questions?" He looks over the crowd.

Glissa guesses, "Dire wolves can take on even much larger animals, and there were plenty of megafauna back during the period this beastie was alive, if one hasn't completely forgotten one's high school biology." This last is said pointedly towards the reporter who asked about bigfoot.

Jason stands up. "Ms. Chan, are the amino acid tests going to be done here at SCCU, or do we lack the facilities for that sort of testing? What will end up happening with the skeleton after all the testing's over?"

One of Rina's dark eyebrows shoots up, and she looks at Jason as if re-evaluating him. Then glances to John, meaningfully.

Ling smiles in recognition of the University journalist. "We're looking into it, though I doubt our facilities are advanced enough to do amino acid dating. It is a relatively new method, which Dr. Murphy and I will be asking labs from other universities to help us out on. As for what will happen to the skeleton after all this is over... " She looks at Dr. Clark. "I think if SCCU would want their own mammalian T-Rex to show off in the main lobbies of the archaeology department, some decent casts can be made. Where the actual bones will end up, is a story that has yet to have an ending."

John gives the reporter a nod, and eyes Rina, thoughtfully. He leans over to whisper to her again.

Jason offers a wry grin at that, sitting down and taking a few notes.

Dr. Clark mutters something about 'decent' being the key word. "Anyone else? Yes?" He motions to the woman in front who's waving her hand rather indignantly. "Where exactly is all the money you've raised tonight going to go?"

Rina shakes her head minutely, and glances over to John with a faint half-smile. "Later," she whispers.

Ling exchanges a couple of testing glares with the woman before she replies, "Well for one it's to get better coffee for our department." She smiles as the joke is well received. "But seriously, it will be going to further DNA research, making of extra casts, and the amino acid dating project."

Dr. Clark nods to Ling's answer. "These tests are very state-of-the-art, and very expensive. And the food, well...we don't have to tell you about the food, do we." He smiles.

Rina glances to the ceiling.

Dr. Clark nods. "Alright, I think that's just about all the time we have. I'd like to thank you all from the bottom of my heart and my department's pocketbook for coming this evening to learn a little bit with us and I hope it was worth your while. Thanks a lot and drive safe."

John snorts faintly in reply to Rina, and rubs his chin, thoughtfully.

Glissa begins to clap supportingly as the professor concludes the presentation.

The Priest applauds politely from his seat in the back where he's been all along. There's a rush as the reporters fairly stampede to get some close-up photos of the find and a few try to interview the various members of the panel.

David Cox applauds politely, though that's about all. As he stands to leave, it seems that the water has pretty much all dried out.

Flash sign here... Applause, applause, and apple sauce. Ling dips her head towards the press members as some of them rise up to leave, while others shuffle in consideration of trying to snag the scientists into an interview for TV. The grad student gives Dr. Clark a short pat on the shoulder and she steps down off the stage, CD and notes in hand to return towards her spot with a satchel. Gah, reporters. Ling waves them off a moment as she puts her things away and secures her bag before going to answer any further questions.

Glissa grins, grabs a table napkin and a pen, and hustles over to Ling, imitating one of the reporters. "Ms. Chen! Ms Chen! Have you any idea what foods it ate? Its hat size? And may I have your autograph?" she gushes into the confusion, puzzling several nearby reporters.

Dr. Clark talks and talks and talks and answers what seem to be the same three questions phrased thousands of different ways. No, its not Bigfoot. No, its not current. No, there aren't any more of it to his knowledge. Yes, its natural.

Rina glances over to John. "I'll go see if I can catch Dr. Nicholson in the chaos," she murmurs. "Hold the fort and get me more coffee?" A quick, warm smile, and then she slides out of her seat.

John nods to Rina, and eyes Jason. "So. Mr. Wright. Get all the info you needed?"

Ling manages to pick out Glissa from all of this, though the throng of reporters asking actual questions and cameras in her face is really ... well it's annoying. "It's a meat eater, perhaps the same as your average canine. I doubt it wore hats," she replies with a short smirk over to Glissa before she answers more questions. "And that's Chan, not Chen. With an 'A'. No, I've not heard of Harry and the Hendersons. No, I don't consider it to be Bigfoot even if it has big feet." She rolls her eyes ever so slightly.

Rina heads for the press of people up front, making her way toward Glissa.

Finally, finally, the crowd begins to ebb as deadlines loom and news hours draw nigh. The clean up crew begins clearing away the table decorations and the security staff stands impatiently on the sidelines of the tables, giving people that 'leave now so I can go home' look.

Jason nods slowly. "I think I got most of what I'll use for this article, at least. 'Course I knew most of it before the dinner, but there ya go. Still, just covering the reporters covering this will make for a great article for the paper," he adds with a grin.

The Priest makes his way toward the front of the room, but is content to hang around the outer edges.

Jason looks over at the skeleton and finally laughs, a short, sharp sound. "Look at the skeleton. Shrink it down a bit and think Episode I. Meesa bombad Bigfoot," he says, his voice uncannily like Jar-Jar Binks.

Glissa snaps her fingers at the denials. "I guess will have to call it Big Nose instead then," she says cheerfully, continuing to obstruct reporters. She doesn't spot Rina til the last second, then freezes briefly and starts to head for the door.

John nods at Jason, curtly, and just watches Glissa and Rina with vague concern.

Ling schlorps out of the throng of reporters though it seems she's rather trapped between exits. Unfortunately, she's being tailed by story-hogs. In the process, she bumps into Glissa. "Oh, ah excuse me Dr. Nicholson." She smiles with a 'gods I didn't know being famous was this annoying' arch of her brows before heading towards the mounted skeleton to make sure it too is not being mobbed by media.

The Priest steps to one side gracefully as Glissa moves toward the door, watching her depart curiously.

Rina offers a tentative, uncertain smile and a wave. "Dr. Nicholson!" She heads toward the lady, her smile warming. "Hi..."

Fully three separate news reporters are trying to stand by the glass case and give their scoop, al getting in each other's way and all unwilling to share. It looks like there may well be a fistfight between Candy Jenkins of TV3 and MaryLou Renner of TV13.

Glissa can't go too far in the press of shoulders and resigns herself with a friendly expression. "Hello, miss... um..." she mumbles something, evidently having forgotten the woman's name and trying to camouflage it behind the general hubbub, "How nice to see you again. Family doing well, I trust?"

Dr. Clark just stops and looks at one reporter. "No, I'm not aware that there are whole societies of Bigfeet in the BlueMountains. And no, I do NOT know what the correct plural is, either. Ask Dr. Murphy."

Ling winces as a camera light is turned on her, and through some squinting she requests it be turned off. It's only dimmed, though, but she supposes it's the best they could do. Again, answering those same questions she covered in her presentation. "I'm not going to look for Loch Ness in the Pacific, no," she sighs out before turning to answer another question. "Ask the staff at La Brea tar pits if you want information about dire wolves." She tilts her head as another reporter asks her of whether she liked the name Harry. Ling shrugs. "It's earthy. Kind of like, 'Bob'."

Rina flashes a grin, slightly self-conscious. "It's Rina... is it okay if I give you a call sometime, just to talk about..." She waves a hand delicately. "This?"

John sits back in his chair, folding his arms, and watching the crowd. The wealthy curious are almost all gone, with only the voracious reporters and occasional well-wisher.

David Cox frowns in distaste at the treatment of the staff and crew by the reporters as he makes his way slowly out of the hall. Starting in a table on the edge, his route of egress is a bit more uncluttered than Glissa, but he still has to wait before actually being able to exit.

Glissa gives Rina a strained smile. "If you must," she says quietly.

"Well if YOU hadn't slept with the mayor's aide to get that corruption story I wouldn't be COVERING this!" And with that Mary Lou Renner brings her microphone down on Candy's head. Candy retaliates by yanking out a handful of Mary Lou's hair, and the fight is on. Right next to the glass case.

Rina catches at her lower lip with her teeth, the blatant unwelcomeness wiping the smile clean off her face. "Never mind," she says quietly, giving a small shake of her head. "If you don't-- um." She takes an uncertain step back, nearly bumping into someone in a suit. "I won't bother you," she murmurs, lowering her eyes to hide the flicker of confused hurt in them.

John smoothly rises to his feet, and begins to move towards Rina and Glissa, with his eyes on the two fighting reporters. "If you'll excuse me..." he says to Jason on his way past.

The Priest frowns as he starts to notice the activity by the case, but then discards it as unimportant.

Glissa stares distractedly towards the reporter antics and grimaces. "Oh, come on. I do have a few duties towards the family," she mutters under her voice at Rina, and digs for her checkbook. She rips off the corner of one of the duplicate pages with her name, address, phone number on it and passes it to Rina.

Dr. Clark gasps in dismay and moves over to quell the rioting. "Not near the case! What are you, children? Stop it this instant!"

Rina blinks, swallowing as she takes the scrap of paper. She tucks it into her evening bag, ducking her head and then looking back to the woman. They're about the same height, or perhaps with her heels Rina's a smidge taller. "Thanks. I--I didn't mean to bother you, okay?" Those dark eyes look worried now, and still a little bewildered--as if the girl can't quite imagine what she's done to offend.

Ling is pushed back against the case as the camera crews crowding around the case get more heated in forming a buffer circle around the fighting reporters. Ling is squished, but she pushes back until she can make her get away like a slippery fish to a less dense spot. Security is hurrying towards the area as well, only adding to the crowd. "Ladies!" Ling shouts over the whoops and jeers of excited reporters getting the scoop. Gah, she ducks as the fight takes a microphoned fist in her direction, punching into the fiberglass of the case. Good thing that stuff is strong.

The Priest covers his mouth with his fingertips, hiding a smile or an indiscrete burp.

Jason watches the buildig meleee with interest, much more than he used in listening to most of the earlier presentation.

Glissa rolls her shoulders. "Your associates," she tells Rina grimly, then turns to stare more openly at the stage. "Good heavens. Was this planned?" she asks thin air, eyes darting towards Rina.

Dr. Clark works his way through the crowd of reporters, security men, two betting newspaper guys who're grinning like loons and offering two to one odds on Candy, and grabs the arm of the Renner woman. "That is enough! I--" Clark is promptly slugged right in the eye.

Rina shakes her head, giving the conflict a distasteful look. "Doesn't look that way," she says lightly. A wince for the professor. "Oooh. Is he a friend of yours?"

Jason mutters, still watching the goings-on, "Lord, what fools these mortals be."

John reaches Rina and Glissa, with his eyes largely on the fight, until he's only a step away from Rina. Putting a hand on her shoulder, he shakes his head at the little fracas. "Now that's something I'd ilke to help out in... Pity I'm camera shy." he mutters.

Rina half-turns, offering a quick smile over her shoulder and then glancing back to Glissa. "Dr. Nicholson, John Smith," she introduces helpfully. "Dr. Nicholson's on the faculty..."

Ling catches Dr. Clark as he stumbles into her with an oof, before setting him off to the side. "Hold this for me," she says while she shoves her satchel in his arms. Uh hunh... Ling grabs the woman who slugged Clark and twists her to the side while getting scratched in the face by her not-quite-peer. She pushes Renner into the crowd to distance the two fighting women and gives the other reporters a challenging glare. "THAT's Enough!" Security finally breaks through the throng, and grabs ahold of both women.

Dr. Clark claps one hand to his eye, his face registering shock and disbelief. The other holds Yi's satchel.

John nods to the Dr. before him, and gives her a faint half-smile. "And you two know each other from...?" He leaves the question hanging in the air.

Glissa nods politely enough to John, distracted by the fray. "Pleased to meet you, Mr..." She pauses, chuckles, and gives him a reproachful look. "Isn't that a bit obvious?" she murmurs.

Rina's smile widens and she glances down, amusement flashing in her eyes.

The post-dinner wrestling match over, Trey takes a few more notes before replacing both the minirecirder and the notepad back in his inside jacket pocket, making every indication of packing up in preparation to leaving.

John lifts a shoulder, dismissively, and gives Glissa a slightly warmer smile. "Can't be too careful."

Glissa's shoulders suddenly tighten as her attention shifts fully to John. "Excuse me," she says with a frown, and heads back towards Dr. Clark.

Rina slides a hand into John's and looks over and up, offering him a quiet smile. "Let's at least go get some air?"

The Priest's smile widens as he eyes John.

Ling lifts a hand to her face and pulls away to see a short spot of blood. The security guards are already dragging the women off with the reporters actually following them. Thank the gods. Ling goes back to Dr. Clark and she lifts her satchel from him. "Thanks," she says quietly while glancing at the professor's swelling eye. Is that the hint of a ring imprint? "Are you OK Dr. Clark?"

John eyes Glissa thoughtfully, as she moves away, then nods to Rina. "Yes. Lets." So saying, he offers his arm for Rina with a charming smile, and leads her out. The press, for some reason, isn't quite so thick where the couple walks, and exits.

Dr. Clark stares up at Ling, shocked. "That woman punched me in the eye!"

Glissa has to fight bodies again, and so doesn't arrive by Dr. Clark until the wrestling match is finished. She lets Ling's question stand for the both of them, eying her colleague with some concern. "Can you see, Mark?" She looks for the nearest wait-staff cleaning up the tables and latches a hand onto the hapless woman's shoulders. "Get a bag of ice wrapped in a towel from the kitchen and bring it here. At ONCE." A rare bout of assertiveness from the mild-mannered Latin teacher.

Dr. Clark tries to open his eye, which is rapidly swelling shut. "That...woman, punched me in the EYE."

The waitress nods and hurries to go fetch said bag of ice, while Ling sighs in examining the professor's eye. "That's going to leave a nasty bruise," she notes quietly. "And yes she punched you. Don't worry, you'll have enough video coverage to charge her on assault if you want." She sends a short glare in the direction the reporters went. Her eyes then go to the glass case, where Harry the Horrible simply rarrs quiet like a dead animal.

Dr. Clark tries to touch it gingerly. "Well, I suppose I could...at that. HOw's Harry?"

Glissa makes soothing noises. "Your prize specimen is as dead as ever, Mark, and didn't bat an eyelash at the silly human creatures playing at its feet."

Dr. Clark breathes a sigh of relief at that. Then, "I don't think I've ever been punched in the eye before... I really don't think I like it."

Ling wipes off her hand on a small tissue, before nodding to Clark. "Harry's fine. Good thing we decided on cheaper fiberglass than actual glass." She glances up at Glissa. "You're not hurt are you Dr. Nicholson?" Eyes scan for any open wounds, or bruises. "Who would have known reporters could be so... animalistic." She manages a tight smile, rather ignoring the reddening scratches on her face.

Glissa pales slightly at Ling's assessment and simply nods. "I'm fine. But I'm afraid I need to go; I've got little ones that need tucking in." She waits to make certain Professor Clark's got the ice before squeezing his shoulder. "Congratulations, Mark. Ling, look after your professor."

Ling gives Glissa a short grin and nods gratefully. The waitress hands over the ice pack and Ling places it gently on the professor's eye with a quiet thank you to the waitress. All in all, the place looks like a stage theatrical with some grotesque skeletal ending. Harry rarrs some more, silent from the grave.

Glissa shoots the skeleton one more sad look and departs tiredly, her limp a little more pronounced in these stupid pumps.

Dr. Clark hisses, standing and pressing the ice to his eye. "Oh, wait. Glissa... Um, I mean, Dr. Nicholson... I should -- I mean I could endeavor to drive you home."

The Priest lifts a hand. "Doctor Nicholson? Do you need a ride? Doctor Clark could stay here and have that eye looked to," he says in a New England accent.

Glissa stops and laughs at him. "Oh, Mark. You should let /me/ drive you." She looks rueful. The offer of a drive from a stranger brings a cheerful smile. "No, thanks, I'll just get a cab. I'm a big girl, I can look after myself."

Dr. Clark rubs the back of his neck. "Well. Ah, yes. I'll uh, call you then? Later?"

The Priest dips his head in acquiesence.

Ling notices Glissa's limp, but keeps her trap shut on it. She does though, offer her opinion. "I don't think you should drive, Dr. Clark." She gazes at the eye from around the ice pack. Her gaze comes up at the stranger in nearby. No, he doesn't seem like any of the reporters, though it's not her place to pry for names.

Glissa nods reassuringly to Professor Clark. "After things have calmed down... I'll be home tomorrow, working on my book. I hope you're taking tomorrow off. And now--really--good night!" She gives a wink at Ling and makes her third foray towards the exit.

Dr. Clark sighs. "Yes, well. The least I can do is help you derect this great beastie, hey?" He sighs wearily. "Good night Glissa."

Ling stands up, with a hand offered to the professor. "What an exciting evening," she quips a little sarcastically.

Dr. Clark shakes his head, taking the offered hand. "May you live in interesting times was a curse, not a blessing. Well, let's get started, shall we--" He finally turns and looks at The Priest. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

The Priest looks around, studying the room, and then begins to leisurely make his way toward the door.

The Priest stops as he is talked to, however.

Dr. Clark pages to the room: Sorry. :) Go ahead on. I thought you were loitering :) The Priest says "No, sir, I don't believe so." He extends a hand. "Alex Feng. I didn't realise Doctor Nicholson was local. I've read a couple of her papers."

Dr. Clark huhs, taking the offered hand with his non-occupied one. "Dr. Mark Clark. Are you an archeology student?"

The Priest shakes his head. "No, sir. It's just a sort of a hobby. I'm interested in the local history, and this seemed a good lecture to catch."

"And a wrestling match for extra. I'd say they got their money's worth, don't you?" Ling quips as she dips her head to the Priest. "Ling Chan."

[Priest's Desc]
A young asian man, tall and wiry, with a narrow sharp face. He has a small artistic goatee, and dark eyes, nearly black, sparkle with interest. He wears a tuxedo and carries a notebook.

Dr. Clark shakes his head. "And I thought the Romans were bad. Bread and circuses, indeed." He sighs. "Well, I hope you enjoyed it, young man. Now, we've got quite a bit of cleaning up to do. Have to dismantle Harry here for safekeeping."

The Priest nods. "Thank you, by the way, for a fine presentation. Good night, the both of you."

Ling wets her lips briefly before nodding again. "Good night," she intones before moving over to Humungous Harry and prepping it for disassembling. Like LEGOs!

Dr. Clark nods. "Good night, good night... Gillian! Gillian? Oh, damn. I forgot to ask her to stay."

Ling glances about for the lab lemming as well, then looking around for the cryptozoologist. "Looks like Dr. Murphy escaped the fangs of the reporters too." She shrugs, then glances at Clark.

[Dr. Clark pages to the room: Okay, we'll need to freeze this scene here so we can timewarp back to it for Joeyet al to try and steal these bones.]