She found herself accosted by another customer who had come in during her little chat with Tilburn. As if on cue, the moment she took this painting the forces that be were already working to impede her at every turn. Maybe she should've tried sneaking in after closing time to steal it instead of doing things the normal way… It wasn't like she could bluntly say, 'Yes, I'm doing this on purpose. No, I don't need help.' Averting her eyes to not make eye contact she tightened her grip on the frame. "Oh don't mind me, I can carry it just fine. It's not that heavy." Yes, trying to divert attention away to make it seem like this was a completely normal purchase. What she was more worried for was for this man to try to help, and accidentally uncover the portrait before she had all the information she needed. And she absolutely did not want that to happen. To her chagrin yet another person added themselves to the mix of 'insistent people who were bent on assisting'. It was taking all of her willpower and mental restraining techniques to resist the desire to scowl. Why couldn't people just mind their own business? 

The two men's presence was making her feel like she was being pressed into a corner, and she as about ready to kick the door open and bolt. But…maybe she could try something else. She still wasn't letting them near the thing, in case they pull the cover off and have some unwitting passerby get targeted. However they wanted to help, so she could use that desire of theirs to get them away. Eyes glancing back and forth between the two, she drew her lips into a thin line. "Well…I guess I do need a little help actually. I'm interested in the painting's history, but I don't know where to start. All I have is the name of the last owner, that's all." She had to thank that red-head of a fop for giving her the idea to use misdirection. But not without a follow-up with some constructive criticism. Give him too many compliments and his ego would rise like yeast dough in summer.

The corner of his mouth twitched into a half smile as he took a small step back to give her space. His crystalline eyes caught sight of the tightening of her grip on the frame of the new purchase. Instincts flared to almost begin a headache the longer he allowed his attention to linger upon it. Damon blinked a few times and shook his head before glancing at the other man that had joined him in attempting to help. For a split second his brow lifted in doubt at the young man, but it turned to a small approving smile. So, I wasn’t the only one that felt it.  

His gaze returned to the woman who now held the covered painting tightly. Senses heightened the longer he stayed in the presence of the painting. Everything in him told the phoenix to get away from it and be on his way. After all, it was one of his days without a patron to babysit. In this case though, the woman reminded him a little of his old master. Maybe it was the energy that felt as if it were crackling about her form. Whatever it was, he felt as if he was to serve in some way. “I do not want to take away the item from your possession, if that is what you are worried about. It feels as if it has begun to awaken.” He nodded towards the covered portrait, knowing that the other customer and the woman would have felt it as well. “If you need a history, than let us do leg work…that is if your offer to help still stands,” he said with a nod towards the male. “My name is Damon by the way. Why not find a location that is safe for you to hole up in for the time being. That way you and it will not be jostled.”  

Damon took another couple steps backwards towards the door until his hand rested upon the knob. He jerked his head towards the other ‘assistant.’ “Why don’t we go for a little walk and see what we can get out of that name?” Hand turned the knob slowly as if waiting for any other input. It was easy to tell from the woman’s body language that she truly did not want any interference from them. Unfortunately for her, Damon was not above being overly nosy with these kind of situations. He did not care if someone wanted the help or not. With being as old as he was, there was no way he could live with the guilt of leaving someone to deal with such a serious problem.

Everything seemed very surreal to Drake at this point.  The woman holding the painting was hesitant at all to relinquish it, which made Drake wary at the strange attraction it seemed to hold.  But she was willing to accept a form of help, and Drake couldn't argue it.  The other male, Damon as he had introduced himself, seemed to hold a similar interest as Drake.  It wasn't about taking the the object, but about trying to help.  That oh-so-useful feeling of just having to help.  One of these days it's going to get me killed.  

Of course, Drake was nowhere near as insightful as the other two.  He was all but oblivious to the ominous feeling that they had both felt from the painting.  He shifted uncomfortably.  At least it hasn't broken out into a fight.  This is a lot more amiable than I was excepting, all things considering.  I doubt I could take either of them in a fair fight if it came to that….

""Drake," he finally replied.  Damon was already halfway out the door, ready to track down the name that was given.  "Harrignton, if I remember," he said as he thought back to the conversation that the woman and Tilburn held earlier.  "I didn't catch the full name, though.  Are you from around here?"  If I had to hazard a guess, none of us are from this area.  Furthermore, if we go around asking about names, we're likely to get nothing.  He sighed.  My head hurts.  I really shouldn't have volunteered….

When the man who introduced himself as Damon mentioned the painting's impending doom, she stiffened. Yes, she was fully aware of that. In fact, that was why she decided to get it off of Mr. Tilburn's hands to begin with. She still wanted to keep up the impression that she was just an ordinary person, so she had to go along with things as they were. "I'll be fine…really." If the powers that be had wanted her dead, she wouldn't have made it up to this point. There had been plenty of chances for her to die before today. Besides, it would be better if she was out and about instead of staying cooped up. The other man who she had spoken to briefly before going to the back room was called Drake. "The name was Milton Harrington Jr." She repeated. "I sometimes come by here to see what's new, but not always." This was getting awkward. She shifted her attention to the painting in her hands. "…I should probably tie this thing up."  

She carefully set it down, pulled out a length of rope, and wrapped it around the canvas until there was beyond a shadow of a doubt that the cover would not come off. "From what I asked earlier, the previous owner passed away recently. The problem'll be finding who else had this canvas before him though." There were a lot of possibilities on this painting's history. It wasn't very well-known, since casual art aficionados wouldn't necessarily know how it had changed hands. The only reason why Mr. Tilburn knew was because someone inquired for the information. Even then, the origins and the reason for it being cursed were left in the dark. Aside from a diviner, probably no one save for the deities could know how it all started. She would be fine with learning about the second to last owners of this piece and how they had passed on. It would shed some light on how the picture's curse operated. And once the time limit had been reached, she'd deal with whatever was in it.

Curses and blessings were two sides of the same coin. Both operated under specific terms and conditions, and had specific effects. The only way to destroy them was to either find a loophole and take advantage of it, or to completely take apart the magic that gave it power. If all else failed, reducing the affected item to ash worked just as well. Personally she wanted to handle it that way. Just throw the thing into magma and watch it be consumed. This was going to be the start of a very long day.

"Asking around about Mr. Harrington Jr. shouldn't be hard. It's still relatively recent news. Eventually we'll find somebody who was acquainted with him personally." The sooner they figured the curse out, the sooner she could throw it into a bonfire and douse the embers with holy water.