The day was just like others; it drew energy from her and kept her in the bounds of keeping tame like every human being. Iolanthe learned that money was a needed currency to trade around things and she had a longing desire to gather more music from the singer 'Björk", and managed to gather more of the CD albums that had even more variety of songs to listen to. A colourful image of the woman that was called "Post", and another one called "Homogenic" of a more obscure and otherworldly image.

Nevertheless, Iolanthe felt excited and eager to fill her ears with more pleasantries. For the past days, she was still wearing the outfit she had been wearing from the time she consumed the shell and soul of the young woman. A violet patterned dress patterned with flowers and a coffee-coloured cardigan that was only cut around her thighs. It was starting to stench with disgruntling aromas but it was hardly a concern for her but maybe to others, they will notice the improper hygiene and appearance.

At this time of day, she would pass by a newspaper stand to see if the package of papers would maintain intriguing knowledge for today, hoping it would entice her mind even more.

The newspaper article had a striking photograph of a man with strange limbs although it wasn't entirely a clear image. Still, it was distinguishable. It was titled in bold letters, "Mad scientist, Doc Ock wrecks havoc!". Her eyes lightened like candlelight and eagerly sought more information. Why was this intriguing? Someone who seemed incredibly out of the ordinary had bloomed through the tremendous city of boredom. Finally something interesting; she thought. Of course, she had learned that the city was obsessed with the amazing Spider-Man. A humanoid dressed in a red and blue suit that covered their skin, zooming around the skies on a web. The world became stranger within every day's passing and it proved to be a much more interesting experience than living in the vast galaxy of stars. Iolanthe paid no attention to the lovable figure of New York City and wanted to toy around with someone new that had a less positive reputation.

Iolanthe's inquisitiveness was lingering and she approached the vendor in the newspaper stall to discover more knowledge of the article.

"Human! Who is this?" Iolanthe shouted to get the vendor's attention and he had an expression of shock, then confusion, "Did you just call me, Human?"

Iolanthe smirked and thumped the piece of newspaper to draw attention to her inquiry, ignoring the remark he had said.

"It's on the article, can't ya read lady?"

She pursed her lips in bitterness and suddenly leaped at the man in a way of scaring him. He backed away in fright for a moment before releasing that she was just a crazy crook with no sense of stability or properness.

"Where is the source of this?" Iolanthe asked. This time the vendor was at his limitation and just wanted to get rid of her and said, "Christ, check the Daily Bugle! Ask for whoever got the information. I just sell stuff!"

His response was satisfactory and so, Iolanthe peacefully left the vendor alone cursing under his breath in which she was able to hear.

The Daily Bugle office was a very well-known place and building that was located in the Flatiron District of Manhattan. A narrow building in the heart of New York City where the Daily Bugle words were vertically displayed along with its thin structure. Her eyes were affixed to the large installation and entered the place with ease. The main lobby had glossy floors and high ceilings but she had wondered how she would be able to go through the multiple levels of the building.

Further in, she noticed somebody exiting the metallic doors that had a small space within them. A passager went past her and she decided to do the same, attempting to follow their exact motives. It was a man that maintained himself in a well-fitted suit and reached over towards the multiple buttons on the surface. Iolanthe cocked her head in puzzlement as the man side-eyed her considering that she wasn't doing anything besides standing around in her dirty clothes.

He continued to gawk at her uncomfortably before managing to speak, "You know where you're going?"

She slowly turned her head to the man with a blank expression on her face, "The Daily Bugle." She said. The man cleared his throat, "Right. That's on floor 15..."

"Floor 15." Iolanthe noticed that he pressed the glowing button labelled, "20", then she figured that she was supposed to do something about that, but, before Iolanthe could reach over, the man just decided to press number 15 for her.

"15," She grinned and giggled, her cheeks puffing her baby face while pointing at the set of number pads.

A couple of seconds had passed and finally, the lift opened its door and it revealed a large office of busy workers parading around the headquarters. The man smiled uncomfortably at Iolanthe and said, "The Daily Bugle." rising his brows and gesturing to her that she had arrived at her destination.

Upon arrival, her peculiar appearance took the sights of the busy workers onto her; some eyeing her and some dissing her for undisclosed reasons. She took a couple of steps in and observed the whole office before a woman with short, dark hair gradually approached her with a slight smile.

"Hi. Are you here for something?" There was a kindness on her face although, Iolanthe just continued to blankly glimpse around the room before noticing that someone was talking to her up close.

"Hi." Said Iolanthe with a ghostly smile. It was obvious she wasn't entirely well in her mind or appearance; her eyes were radiant white but maybe some assumed that it was eye contact. Iolanthe raised the crumpled newspaper she had carried on for a while and showed the young woman her inquiry for this meeting.

"Who is this? I want more sources."

The woman weirdly eyed her and was trying to think of something before reaching into a grand and private office behind her. She quickly came back and assisted Iolanthe to enter into the office where a man seated himself in irritation at this odd encounter.

"Who the hell is this? Think this is the soup kitchen, Brant?"

"Sir. She's wondering about the latest issue, you know the whole Doc Ock articles." Their little conversation began impolitely and at times strange.

"What are you, some kind of correspondent in disguise?", he looked over his desk to see her full appearance, "Where're your shoes?", he looked at the woman named Brant in annoyance, he scoffed. Iolanthe suddenly slammed her palms against the wooden desk as the intensity in her eyes gazed at the man.

"Tell me, what details do you have of this...", she pointed at the image of the drawn man with tentacle arms, "...man?"

The room was falling uncomfortable with uneasiness but the man kept his composure.

"What else do I know about it? Otto Octavius, a mad man turns himself into an octopus freak. The experiment goes kablam and it kills his wife. I'm just the headliner of this fine establishment. I bring the attention to the city.", his voice runs fast, "Now get outta here. You're gettin' dirty tracks on the floors. Stinkin up the place." He gestures his people; Brant, the woman who had observed the entire situation unfold kindly escorted Iolanthe to the elevator.

"Hope you find what you're looking for."