New York City. A place where the seemingly impossible happens every day... and more so now that various gods and other beings of myth have set up shop. Literally, in the case of Hecate. The Greek goddess of magic was in her little fortune-telling booth, giving mortals what information she could. At present, she was divining whether or not a business deal would be made. Pouring various oils into a bowl of water, she studied the patterns intently. Truth be told, she didn't need to do this, but she liked the theatricality. "Yes, you will be able to buy his company, but I cannot be sure whether the end result is good or ill." "What? I thought you were a goddess!" Hecate shrugged. "I call 'em like I see 'em- or don't, in this case." The supplicant threw a couple of bills on the table and left, shaking his head in disgust. Hecate put her head in her hands. Why couldn't mortals get it? Not as many worshippers=not as much power. It wasn't exactly hard.