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Wandering around in the sewers it was, the keyword, a normal day for Simon. Suddenly everything washed away from his mind. All of his memories, thoughts, opinions began to slowly evaporate until all that left was a blank slate that had no clue who he was. Standing in the sewers Simon looked around a few times. "Where am I? And why does it smell!?" he cried out then made his way up the first ladder.

Darkness greeted him. He looked around "Heh," an involuntary noise left his lips. Walking around the streets of Harper Rock with the newly created night. At every turn the man tried looking at his reflection. His face should have at least told him a few things. Unfortunately being a shadow meant there were no such things as reflections.

"That's weird!" he cried out and with a shrug of his shoulders the man kept moving, "Oh well." Patting down his pockets he pulled out some cash and a set of keys. No I.D. was found anywhere. His wallet rested in an apartment that was called home. Walking into a goodwill he began to pluck at clothes. Having sewer drenched clothing wasn't a good thing.

Snagging a tweed jacket, black pants with legs that were a little too short, simple black dress shoes, a powder blue button up shirt, a red bowtie and suspenders that matched the tie, Simon bought the items then dressed himself in an alleyway. Little did he know this was his mind trying to tell him something and it went unheard. "I like this! I really like this! I've seen this before!" And so he figured this must have been worn a few times since it felt so familiar.

His trademark leather jacket, black slacks and purple button up shirt rested in the alley. The contents were now in the new clothes. Smiling the man whistled to the junkyard. Remembering scrounging up goodies and the sensations of rummaging Simon went through junk piles. Part of him felt at ease doing this despite not knowing who he was.

Klara looked at the time again. “Simon where are you?” she questioned the empty space of their bedroom. She figured Simon would have been home long before now but she knew he would get occupied or meet someone and get to talking about lose all track of time. She went and took her shower and began to get dressed for their evening out.

Humming as she went to her closet and pulled out the little red dress that Simon loved. She went and dug through her lingerie draw and found the new piece that Simon had sent her for Valentine’s Day and slipped into it. Klara went to her dressing table and put on her makeup and fixed her hair, pulling part of it up, curls escaping just the way Simon loved her to wear it when she was dressed up. She put on the necklace and earrings he had given her on another occasion

The phone lay silent on the bed. She frowned wondering what was keeping him. Looking into the mirror she smiled and got the idea and took a selfie in her lingerie, smiling seductively at him. “Baby where are you? We’re going to be late. I hope you like the gift you got me! I love you Simon!” she quickly added to the text and hit send.

Noticing the time she went and picked out Simon’s suit and laid the items on the bed so all he had to do was quickly change and they could leave. They were going to have to teleport just to be fashionably late but it wasn’t a problem she reasoned.

Slipping into the red dress she checked herself one more time. Satisfied that she looked beautiful she went and sat at the piano and began to play filling the time until Simon got home or called or texted to let her know what to do.

Hearing a buzzing noise Simon stopped scrounging and checked the phone. It wasn't password protected, just a simple slide "lock." Checking the text message he cried out with a "Whoa!" Responding back, "Lady, I umm...you look vaguely familiar. You probably shouldn't send text messages like that because your boyfriend will get angry. Boyfriend. Husband. Girlfriend. Whatever you have." Klara's lingerie was quite revealing and a little kinky in nature.

The man kept sifting away at things after pocketing the phone. "Lucky person. They've got a girl like that. Cause I mean," a whistle escaped his lips. Seeing a familiar sight in a junk pile he smiled, "Is that a microwave?!" Simon was even more clueless than normal. Amnesia was problematic like that.

Klara stopped playing as her phone buzzed. “Finally” she breathed a sigh of relief beginning to wonder if something had happened to him. She opened the text smiling having a good idea what he would say to her. “What the ****?” blurted from her lips.

Rereading the text again it was exactly as she had read it. She wasn’t wrong. Why was he acting like he had no clue who she was. Becoming angry and hurt she teleported to him immediately. She found herself in a junkyard and spotted him digging through a pile of junk.

“Simon Ward, what the hell are you doing and what on earth are you wearing?” she demanded as she walked up to him. “Why would you act like you have no clue who I am?” She walked carefully trying not to fall in the seven inch stilettos she wore. She stood there waiting for Simon to answer her.

Klara cried out for some Simon guy and the memory lost Simon kept digging. Eventually he rose up and cried out, "Simon! Where are you buddy! You've got a lovely lady waiting on you!" the irony was completely lost on him. After a few moments and a look from Klara he pointed at himself. "I'm Simon?" he asked with the utmost sincerity. His eyes looked normal, but there was a bewildered and lost nature to them. "Okay good I got a name. It's Simon." Looking back at Klara, "Simon what?" An idea struck him and he opened up the text message then showed her the photo she had sent him, "That's for me, right?" the question was earnest. When he got the affirmation he smiled big, "I'm liking this Simon guy. Whoever I was. Is. Am."

Sensing confusion from Klara he looked at her, "I don't remember much. I was in a sewer and well, that was it. From there I used what money I had and bought this," he tugged at the suspenders. Klara would have recognized that he inadvertently dressed like 11th Doctor during Matt Smith's first season. Clearly his mind did retain something. "So tell me who you are and why you're sending me photos that are making my pants a little tighter." A sly smile was on his face yet the look in his eyes remained the same.

As Simon continued to dig Klara stood there bewildered. She was angry and ready to explode but something was off about the whole situation. Simon liked to play tricks and give her a hard time but she honestly didn’t think he would push it this far. He also knew she had no problems with shooting him or taking her saber to his person either. Interested to see how far Simon would insist on taking this and running through her options for punishment as she watched and waited.

After several very long moments, Simon yelled out to himself. This only drew a foot tapping from Klara. She was not amused at this point and her anger was starting to get the best of her until he turned to her asking if he was Simon and verified that the picture she had sent him was meant for him. Instantly the alarms were going full bore in her head.

Klara searched his eyes and saw that he was sincere and had no clue who he was nor did he have any idea who she was. Now she was afraid; afraid actually wasn’t a strong enough word for the emotion she felt right now. She quickly apprised him and went into his memories. Obviously a spell or ritual of some sort. She quickly went through the list of who her usual suspects would have been but now she was lost since she and Crissy were getting along. One thing she did know was she had to get him home and Crissy there and figure a way to bring his memory back. She wasn’t going to have come this far just to lose him again.

“I’ll answer all of your questions honey but we have got to get out of here Simon. And your name is Simon Ward, well you that’s the name you go by anyways.” She wondered if he even knew he could teleport or if he even knew he was a vampire. Not taking any chances she decided to do it herself. “Simon, I’m your fiancé Klara West.” She flashed the diamond he had given her at him. Still no recognition. “We had plans tonight and that was the lingerie you got me for Valentine’s Day and you love getting pictures as well as sending them.” She knew her face was beat red. It seemed odd to have to be explaining this to the man with which she had shared so much.

Looking at his outfit she almost giggled. Dr. Who; that was the one thing that had stuck? Really? She shook her head and walked up to the man. “You have to trust me baby. I’ve got to get us home and we’ll get in touch with your mother and see if we can figure out what exactly happened to you and how to fix it.” She wrapped her arms around him. “Hold me tight Simon and close your eyes.” She felt his arms slide around her, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him tenderly. She got a reaction but not the one she had been seeking. She quickly teleported them out and soon they stood in the middle of his apartment.

“Sit down, don’t move.” She commanded him quickly sending Crissy and Quoth a telepath. “Please get to Simon’s apartment immediately. Something bad has happened and I need your help to figure out how to fix this, if it can even be fixed. Someone did a ritual on him and he’s lost his memory.”

Klara sat looking at him waiting. She entwined her fingers in his hoping that their touch would trigger something in him. “What exactly happened Simon?”

It had been a long night working with her assistant, Becky, trying to get the Metronome Club in order. Once all of that had been settled, Becky sent the very last of the Valentine’s Day gifts out by walking to the very last location and handed them to the people, she had set home for a well deserved rest in the comfortable bed in the room she shared with Tabitha. Cristiana on the other hand, still had work to do. The paperwork for closing for the night, for reserving the tables for the couples, and getting the property set up was only half the job. There was still more, and the losses of money for the day from the regular patrons who knew about the event and had enough sense to steer clear of the building. The people who come in off the street, unknowing and not reading the signage posted big enough for any fool to see, she couldn’t do anything about that. Plus, the staff it was going to take to tend to needs still needed paying even though the place was technically closed. It was tough owning a business, running it and let alone adding in a second business where attendance was a must. The wedding boutique had not been neglected at all. She left most of that to Becky, so she could concentrate on the club. It was tiring but well worth it at the end of the day. Even with the lack of sleep she endured.

At the end of the paperwork trail, she sat back on the plush chair and sigh a gentle sound that pushed the slightest of air from her red parted lips. This raven haired woman was ready to head home. Once all the papers were in order, printed and filed away, she got up only after turning the computer off. As she passed the doors, she ran her fingers down the light switch turning the lights of the semi hidden office off and finally left the building. It was well into the wee hours of the morning, dawn was approaching soon. On a last thought, right before she stepped into the transit station, she changed her mind. After all she was a woman and reserved that right. Instead of heading home within a few minutes, she turned and headed down the street walking from Wickbridge all the way home to Cherrydale. It was good to take in the sights and see what in the city was growing and changing. It was also good to stop by the Station Net Café and get a cup of their steaming hot coffee. Even this late, and this tired, it would not affect her drinking the dark roasted brew. As per usual, when she drinks coffee, it is always taken the same way. The brew had to be as dark as night in the cup; no creamer or milk, no sugar and most definitely none of those fancy flavorings. She liked the smell and the taste of the ground strained bean. The scent filled her nostrils teasing her taste buds before she took a long sip. It was almost like before, when she had been a youngling in the city. With one last glance at a wall that no longer stood in the Metronome, a wall that held both happy and sad memories of a person who seemed to be on an extended vacation. What she wouldn’t give to hear her friends’ voice, to sit on the couch and tell him everything and anything with their normal banter. While she was away in Russia, he’d disappeared. Maybe for good, but she was not one to give up hope on friends. He was missed, whether or not he knew it. But life goes on, just as it had without her when she was trapped in Russia.

From the café, she headed north walking pass the gas station and farm. She couldn’t help but stop to peek in on the chickens. They amused her so much. What amused her more was someone roaming around trying to feed off of them instead of biting a human. The vegetarian version of a vampire, she supposed. Before the light broke from the sky, before the rose up she left and walked pass the bank making it up to her doorstop. The key slipped into the keyhole on the door, she pushed the heavy doors open making her way into the foyer of the building. She laid her purse and coffee on the desk by the door looking about the large room she had spent many of nights redecorating to suit the family. At first, she went over to the bookshelves built into the wall. Once she had a book that seemed semi interesting she light a fire in the fireplace against the wall. With a good book and cup of coffee she settled into one of the overstuffed chairs enjoying the warmth inside and out.

There was no time frame from when the door opened and closed and she had fallen asleep. Hours had passed, she knew that. The cup lay on its side emptied of its contents. The book had fallen off her lap and onto the floor. She didn’t rise up to see if someone was coming or going, she suspected either her husband was home or Becky was going out for breakfast. Breakfast sounded good to the allurist but not as good as going back to sleep. Sleep won out over getting up and preparing something for herself, she might get a bite of food later on. Or a tasty human, whichever came first.

After hours of exhaustion induced sleep she raised, stretching, and forgetting she fell asleep reading the book in the chair. She glanced over to see where Quoth was, but he was guarding the building like he normally did. She didn’t want to disturb him, so she sat at the computer looking over the Crownet. As she scrolled down the pages of banter her fingers over the keys sitting there like she was going to reply then without a thought she closed the page. It just wasn’t her style to talk much on the Crownet, when she did those few and far between times, there was normally a purpose behind it. Whether the purpose was known to others or not, there was a purpose. She sat back in her chair pulling out her phone, replying to text messages. Anything to keep busy while not disturbing her husband.

She went back to reading the book that had fallen off her lap in the slumber that had finally overcome her earlier that day. She lost track of hours lost in the depth of the book. Page after page, she never looked up or bothered to move much. When she heard her husband stir, she looked away from the book finally. She smiled at him. Laying the book aside, she gave him a kiss explaining she was going to head down to the wedding shop. With a languid kiss, she was out the door heading off to work number two.

With the holiday she needed to take inventory of the store, of what was left on the shelves. When she opened the door, the bell chimed and Becky called out a greeting. She already had a talzon gun in her hand scanning the merchandise on the shelves. This was exactly why Crissy trusted the young girl to keep the business running while she concentrated on the club. She mumbled something about having given the day off work to Becky but the only reply she got was a shrug. The two set to work, taking note of what needed to be ordered to refill the shelves. When the order was ready, she was leaving the shop. Everything had their T’s crossed and I’s dotted. Cristiana hadn’t needed to worry; Bebe was right on top of it as always. That was when she felt the vibrations in her pocket. The shrill noise followed the tingling against the side of her leg. She slid open the phone with a thumb across the smart phone keypad to unlock it. Her eyes grazed the message from Klara, a strange message indeed.”Lost his memory?” She said to herself more than anyone else since there was no one else around.

Seeing as she had time, he’d already lost his memory so there was time to stop for another round of coffee. It was right across the street. She left another large tip before heading up the building of the West Tower. With a soft rapt on the door, she stood against the wall waiting for Klara to come open the door so she could see what was wrong with her childe this time. He was the one who most often in trouble, the one who brought much of it on himself by being wayward. He was very lucky that Klara forgave him this time, she knew there wouldn’t be a second time. In a moment, she wondered why she was waiting. She took her keys out and let herself into the apartment. “Klara, Simon?” She called out with her normal accent not as worried as the message came across, dire. “What’s going on?”

The night had been a long one and the way he saw it still had several long hours ahead of him. However, he had forced himself to head home after he had a little incident with a small crowd of human women. It had been just past the Necropolis when he ran into the little gaggle. His nerves already ground thin, he had taken to walking to try to calm his nerves. Just as he was passing the group of five, one of the women's cellular went off.


The once popular, 'Oops, I Did it Again' sang out into the air, and just like that a switch was thrown. The woman nearest Quoth was bringing the device to her ear when his hand shot out with alarming speed. His digits encircled the frail beings wrist, turning and squeezing until he felt the many little bones grinding against each other beneath his fingers. His free hand quickly snatched up the phone and in a blink the electronic had crashed against the nearby brick wall of a store front, exploding into pieces of plastic and circuitry.

The whole slip was only a matter of seconds, but Quoth came back to himself with the woman scratching and clawing at his wrist, singing a symphony of choked sobs and shrieks. Her four friends, careful to keep the woman between them, were cackling a near incoherent litany of swears. Looking over his shoulder to where the mobile phone had impacted he sighed inwardly. This **** was no good, what was he supposed to do with this.

Slowly he looked back to the frightened woman in his grasp, and slowly tilted his head. That deep well of hidden energy that he used to fuel his vampiric powers stirred. He let the anger and resentment that had been building throughout the night pour into that well of energy inside himself. He noticed the change in the woman whose wrist he was crushing first. She stopped in mid sob, the fear and despair slowly dying in her eyes to be replaced with a smoldering heat. A sick smile contorted the man's lips as the rage built in the woman.

By now he could feel his anger rolling off of himself, spreading through this woman in a hazy wave. When he realized the tirades of her friend's had stopped now too, he looked up. Aside from the obvious physical cues, like their aggressive postures and balling fists, he could feel the anger he had planted in them. He savored the perverse sense of victory that washed through him. He had no idea what this was, had never heard of anything like it, but he liked it... and knew just what to do with it.

The Killer eased his grip on the woman's wrist, altering his grip to twist. He used the leverage to turn her wrist into a lead, forcing her to turn to face her friends. From his duster, Quoth withdrew one of the Hunter's long swords that he had claimed from the sewers and placed the hilt in the woman's hand. He was pleased as he watched her finger's close around it. With that he released and with a nudge between her shoulder's pushed her towards her friends.

In that moment all hell broke loose. The other four women paired off and began savagely tearing and scratching at one another, his initial victim looked to her hand, staring at the sword before charging and swinging wildly. The let out a twisted laugh, the haze of rage he had somehow projected no longer needed him to sustain it. No, it seemed to be feeding on the women as they were tearing each other apart, all while being viciously stabbed. He didn't know where it came from, but he soon realized he was laughing.

Quoth turned on his heels, the sound of the melee ringing on his ears as a warm smile played on his lips. What should have been a breach of the Masquerade would now just be the psychotic ravings of an unstable woman that snapped and murdered her friends. His thoughts turned on this while he boarded the transit system towards Cherrydale.


When he did walk through the door of LL, he was in a notably lighter mood, not dwelling on the unjust cursings or the group of women he had run into. Instead he smiled as he watched his wife slumber, curled up in the padded chair, her face pressed flat against the book she had been reading. Kissing her forehead, he gingerly peeled away the book and gently set at the foot of the chair after dog earring the page she was on.

From there he took up his position at the entrance of LL, where he could keep his eye out for any who did not belong there. Trusting his senses he cleared his mind and settled into a healing trance, letting him cleanse himself of the hexes visited on him.

Hours later he came to, to the sweetness of his wife's lips upon his. The moment ended much quicker than he would have liked, but he wasn't given the opportunity to dwell on it. The familiar clutch of another's powers pressed down on him. This time, however, he resisted the curse.

Great, another one of those nights...

He mumbled out loud to himself as he ran his fingers through his hair. His stood in the lobby trying to convince himself to head up to his apartment and grab a shower... to just get on with his night. It sounded like a plan, like the right thing to do, but it wasn't what he wanted to do. No, what he wanted to do involved shards of broken glass and discovering how deep he had to push them in to her eyes before they wouldn't heal out. Slowly he realized if he stayed like this, that would be the only option for the night, and he knew he had to behave, at least for now.

Heading out into the night, Quoth didn't bother with the trail leading from L.L. back into Cherrydale. Instead he went straight for the wilderness along the northern border of the city. The further from the building the more he could feel his body growing excited with the anticipation of the change. He could feel his skin trembling as the anima flowed threw him, shaping him, seizing his conscious. Somewhere along his trek, he dropped to all fours, his body contorting and twisting, bones snapped with squelching pops as his anatomy reorganized itself and he sprouted fur. For hours after that, the world was nothing but the pounding of paws, and chilled wind through fur.

Sometime later the Malamute emerged from the woods. The run had been refreshing, but his canine senses longed to run for only so long before the tapestry of city scents were able to overwhelm his senses. The huge dog trotted confidently along the streets, his full beautiful coat and intelligent bi-color eyes enough to balance out the fear most ordinary people saw in a dog this size, letting him roam freely around the city with out the threat of incurring the wrath of angry dog catchers. Unfortunately it seemed he still wasn't meant to enjoy his evening. A strange presence invaded the animal's mind. The words were alien and familiar at the same time. The instincts of the Malamute wanted to ignore them... but Quoth recognized the plea.

It was a short internal war before Quoth was heading towards West towers. After the incident when he had attacked Nyla, he had spent more time than he was willing to admit, learning to control his subconscious, instinct driven mind. Luckily he had only been a short distance away, and given the crowds out that night, he decided against trying to find a safe place outside to shift back. So it was thus, that the two hundred and thirty plus pound Malamute was lounging about the lobby of West Towers appearing to relax but in actuality just waiting for someone to open the elevator.

As luck would have it, it seemed a party goer had forgotten something up in her apartment. Immediately he jumped up, following the young woman to the elevator. He hung back as she pushed the open to call the box to the ground floor, not wanting to alarm her with his presence. Once the door opened, he darted in front of her, squeezing into the box in front of her. He quickly turned and sat in the middle of the elevator, his tail wagging behind him as he panted, looking up at the blonde woman. She stared at him incredulously, obviously unsure of what to make of the occurrence. She quickly looked around the room, to see if anyone else had seen to possibly judge how she should could react. The malamute merely happily panted, though Quoth was beginning to worry she wouldn't get on when the doors began to shut.

He heard the woman mutter ****... as she quickly scrambled to get in before the doors could shut her out. Seeming to want to ignore the dog she pressed her floor number and turned her back on him. Not having any of that Quoth quickly let out a sharp bark, rising off his hunches to walk over to the floor panel. He scratched at the elevator and let out another quick bark. The young blonde gave him a look as if to say 'No ******* way.' He merely answered with another yelp. Not looking quite convinced she slowly began roaming hovering her fingers over the floor buttons, once Quoth recognized her hand over Simon's he gave a little Arrroorrooo and began wagging his tail furiously.

The woman pressed the key, but still looked like she was expecting to be the butt of some joke. You have got to be shitting me...

With his floor safely pressed, he relaxed, sitting himself down next to the blonde's leg. His head coming up to her thigh, and her not quite sure if this was really happening she began scratching behind his ear. If anyone were to ask, Quoth merely suffered through this indignity for appearances. To the best of his knowledge, no one knew of his tickle spot. His floor coming up before her's, the Malamute stood when the doors opened. Giving her hand a quick lick, he happily trotted out of the box and down the hall, leaving the blonde scratching her head.

Once in front of Simon's door, the Malamute through his weight against the solid wood of the door before scratching persistently.

Klara sat talking to Simon getting his version of what he could remember and what exactly happened or if he had any idea who would do something like this to him. They seemed to be getting nowhere fast. She heard a soft rap on the door and as she was getting up she heard the key turn in the lock and Crissy’s voice.

Klara jumped up from beside Simon. “Thank goodness you’re here. He’s in here. I found him digging through the junk pile at the junk yard, dressed like this and totally oblivious. I teleported to him when I got a text back after sending him a picture of me in his Valentine’s gift and he told me my boyfriend or whatever might get mad.” She looked at Simon sitting there listening to her explain.

“When I showed up wondering if he was playing some kind of game and pissed that we were going to be late he was pulling a microwave from the junk pile and no clue to his name, me, or anything. When I appraised his memories I saw that someone and done a ritual or something on him and I have no clue what on earth it could be or if it can be undone.”

Watching Crissy go to her child she heard scratching on the door wondering what on earth was making that sound. She went and jerked the open the door, her nerves getting the best of her and seeing the giant malamute sitting there she screamed a high pitched scream of total fear and ran back into the apartment cowering behind Simon shaking like a leaf, tears in her eyes. She wondered if they were all soon to be killed.

Seeing Klara move back and forth the man once called Simon kept his gaze on her. "Klara," he said. "Klara. Klara. Klara," he repeated the name. A few seconds later his brown eyes shut tone. Both hands went to his head. Memories flooded him then he looked at Klara, "CLARA!! You! I remember you. Impossible girl! My impossible Girl!" then his head crooked, "You look different." Apparently someone remembered Doctor Who again.

A second ticked by and he held his head again. More memories came back to him. "KLARA It's you and ummm...Wow, you look goregous and umm...why are you still with me?! I...I don't remember who I am but I remember you crying a lot." Walking up to her he kissed Klara deeply then whispered, "I'm sorry." His memories of both good times and bad were assaulting him. Turning away he yelled, "God...I'm a jerk!!"

Frowning he started to snap his fingers and moved away from Klara, "Ward doesn't sound right. But it's close. It's on the tip of my tongue! Woddle. Wiggle. Waggle. Woozzle. Wuzzle," his fingers snapped with each word. Something was trying to come back to him. "Ward-Waggle. Ward-Woddle. Ward-Wuzzle." That last combo made his body straighten and both hands shot to his head. Noises of pain as memories burst they way forward escaped his pain then relief washed over him. "WARDALL! I'm Wardall! Something Wardall! But what is that something!?" He said aloud in a ponder. Few people knew Simon's real name. The name he called himself in his own head more often than not.

Minds were sometimes considered to be like computers. And what happened to computers when they rebooted? They went back to the original operating system. Simon Ward was like a theme for the O.S. Not what the O.S. actually was. Hearing the gentle rap Simon looked to Klara as she opened the door.

A petite woman was on the otherside and Klara shook like a leaf, "What's wrong Klara?" he asked then looked at Cristiana. His eyes were devoid of the usual sparks, but they stayed on Crissy. "I know you from somewhere. I know I know you but where," his fingers rapped on his head as he looked partially like the "Thinker" statue for a second. Another noise from the door pulled his attention away from Crissy. On the otherside was a large animal.

Screaming Simon stumbled backwards trying to get away, "BIG ANIMAL! BIG ******* ANIMAL! OH ****! IT'S GONNA EAT US! RUN KLARA! RUN PRETTY LADY! RUN BOTH OF YOU! SAVE YOURSELVES!" He kept moving back away from the waiting Quoth. Simon had rarely seen the animal so it made since there was no big animal. Typically when Simon saw the animal it was in Crissy's presence. Plus it wasn't like Quoth wore a collar that bore his name like some animals did.

Going back into the corner Simon was shaking like a leaf. Then seconds later he faded away. Instincts were kicking in and they turned on his invisibility. Seeing the animal wasn't going to be mean he asked, "Why isn't it attack us?" the words broke the invisibility. "What? What is it?" Simon asked unsure how to gauge their reactions.