When the priest, Oliver, looked at him, Tarot caught the changing colors of his eyes and a subtle scent of sulfur emanating from the very animated and curious man. A cold chill almost froze his blood. Yes, Francis was definitely in danger; maybe they all were. He scooted back from Oliver uneasily, his lips pulling back in what he hoped could be taken as a canine smile, though he was pretty sure it looked more like half snarl half grimace. "Um.. what?" he asked, not sure what Oliver had meant by 'how do you do that', all the jibberish about a professor and a doctor, and if he had any other powers. He was instantly worried that Oliver somehow knew about Tarot, though that had to be completely irrational. He'd never met the man before and he certainly hadn't said anything to give away his secret.
He watched and listened to the banter that transpired between them all, but feigned ignorance. It was somehow comforting to know they weren't very good at lying. Perhaps they'd never needed to. Besides, whatever was actually going to happen that involved a cardinal and a church, he had an uneasy feeling that all the lies would shatter and a lot of truth would be brought to light. Despite his own survival instincts insisting that he get the hell out of there, one of the voices that he sought to help whispered louder in his ear. Stay with them. And he intended to listen to her this time.
He watched and listened to the banter that transpired between them all, but feigned ignorance. It was somehow comforting to know they weren't very good at lying. Perhaps they'd never needed to. Besides, whatever was actually going to happen that involved a cardinal and a church, he had an uneasy feeling that all the lies would shatter and a lot of truth would be brought to light. Despite his own survival instincts insisting that he get the hell out of there, one of the voices that he sought to help whispered louder in his ear. Stay with them. And he intended to listen to her this time.