Marvel, Rebirth:

[Krayzikk]

IC:

 

"No eye closing really necessary. It's instantaneous."

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"Even better."

 

-Tyler

[Krayzikk]

IC:

 

"Why am I not surprised."

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"The day I stop being charmingly and chauvinistically honest to you is the day that a Phalanx came and got me after all."

 

-Tyler

[Krayzikk]

IC:

 

".. Point taken." Rebelah rolled her eyes slightly as violet light began to envelope her body. As usual, the glow began at her eyes; one beacon of red, the other of purple. The light continued for a few moments as she mulled over her choice, and when it faded, she was garbed in dark blue jeans and a black, short sleeved shirt.

 

"We're taking the Ducati, and I'm driving."

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

Dallas eyed Rebekah's new getup momentarily and finally smiled at her.

 

"Yeah, alright, fine."

 

-Tyler

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Alecto)

 

"Mm?" Alecto glanced at the other mutant. "Snow. For...uh, future reference, it's kinda hard for me to make eyes at the cashier when you're waving your hands in front of them like that. Watcha need?"

[sunflower]

IC: Jesika

 

She made a distinct pfff sound of self amusement, propping her head up on laced fingers.

 

"Oh please, he's probably staring wide-eyed at those," Jesika made an eye motion to the wings. She paused a beat, before a small smirk played across her face.

 

"Or, y'know me."

 

She stuck her tongue out at Batboy.

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Alecto)

 

The bat-winged mercenary huffed. "Does this mean you're going to move into his apartment and keep him up with that...." Alecto spat the next word. "Techno music." The mercenary then shifted his eyes away from his companion, and back the cashier. Without warning, he fluttered his wings lightly for a moment, and then shot a Jesika a fairly nasty smirk.

 

"Eyes stayed right where they were Snow. Not the wings. And certainly not your cyborg self, Cortana. Looks like you're stuck with the power armored slave soldier. Wonder how you'll explain that one to Watchbeast. Be fun to watch."

 

He paused.

 

"Think I'll put it up on youtube,"

[sunflower]

IC: Jesika

 

"Liar, you like that music too, I've seen you catching onto the beat."

 

"Mind you, I like the power armor. Strong, silent type."

 

Jesika smiled back oh so sweetly, before directing her gaze, and the smile, to the poor unfortunate soul caught in the crossfire, giving a wave. "Also come on man, he's really not all that much to look at. I expected better, coming from you."

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Alecto)

 

"When are the repairs to your apartment going to be done again? The less I hear that shrill...electronic....ear murder you call music, the better." Alecto straightened up a bit, and learned forwards. "And I didn't hear ya complaining about his looks before. Looks like someone's a sore loser."

 

He didn't bother dressing up the smirk he shot her way as a smile. "Some things never change I guess."

Edited August 8, 2015 by Havelock Vetinari

[HeavyMetalSunshineSister]

OOC: Hooooooo boy. I guess before I finish writing up the umpteen character profiles I've had in cold storage for months, I should maybe grind out at least one post for a character I've already got.

 

As an aside, the research I had to do for this post has kindled an intense desire for chicken tenders.

 

IC (Aramis Saavedra):

 

The weather, considering the time of year, was actually quite nice - the sky was clear, the wind wasn't much over 20 mph, and not everything was frozen.

 

However, it was January in New York and Aramis was from New Orleans. With a little perspective added to what New Yorkers would call a pretty nice day - objectively better than the day anyone else could be having, because this day was being had in The City - it was revealed as a wind-blasted, chilly hellscape in which things were either frozen or had just defrosted, and not even his favourite greatcoat was enough to keep him comfortable; instead, it was being swept out behind him by the wind, totally failing to insulate him, and even better, slowing him down as he tried to find an acceptable shelter from this vicious Northern winter.

 

Finally, as he rounded a corner, his coat still flapping like the wings of some great and irritable bird, a beacon of hope presented itself - Buffalo Wild Wings. On the one hand, it was a sports bar. On the other hand, the chicken tenders he'd be ordering and the ear plugs in his pocket. Wrangling his coat into an almost-manageable state, Aramis managed to plant his feet long enough to pull the door open, and, despite the wind's insistence on ripping it off its hinges, he ducked inside and found a way to close the door again before looking up at the cashier behind the bar.

 

"Nice weather we're having, eh?"

 

Though tempted to comment on Canadians and their inability to feel changes in temperature, Aramis shrugged, asked for a menu, and found a table by a window. After a minute or so of browsing the menu, the sound of approaching footsteps heralded the return of the cashier.

 

"So, what'll you have for drinks? As you see, we've got a fine selection of beers both domestic and imported, some wines, mule juice, a few different options for whiskey, bourbon or scotch, prison wine, vodka, and of course..." the cashier trailed off, looking expectantly at the new customer, who had raised a hand, and eyebrow, in casual bewilderment.

 

"Isn't it a little early to be drinking?"

 

The cashier snorted. "Tell that to the breakfast menu."

 

Aramis blinked in silence for a few seconds as the full horror of the Wild Wings breakfast menu sank in, before meekly ordering water with a slice of lemon.

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"MULE JUICE!"

 

"Bourbon. Please, Christ, bourbon."

 

The two men that walked into Buffalo Wild Wings after Aramis couldn't have looked more apart - one tall and dark where the other was fair but compact, one dressed in slim black clothing, clearly designer, while the other went so far as to sport a camo cap and shamrock-emblazoned gloves on both hands - and, perhaps most importantly, the younger man was sporting a sickle-shaped cut on his throat as though he'd been clawed, as well as two rosy cheeks that looked suspiciously as though they had knuckle prints, while the man who looked twenty years his senior was already sporting a line of bruises across the flaxen-colored hair that formed his bushy beard, his eye was darkening, and his left arm was pressed oddly to his ribs. There were scuffs all over the boots of either, and all their knuckles were rubbed raw.

 

"Bah, you're always so HORMONAL after yer physical training. I ask ye, what's the point of gettin' all buggered 'bout fightin' when you asked me to keep you in top shape? Yer boyfriend knows the value of keepin' in prime masculine shape, and he wears that ######in' armor to boot! Yannow, the stuff that'd make the Pawn Stars guy CREAM HIS PANTS! And yer here wearin' your fookin' Taylor Swift's closet fookin' all black. Anyone ever told you that you look like the girlier Marilyn Manson? And he had both his bottom ribs removed to--"

 

"That's a myth, Kyle." The younger man sat down and dropped a hundred dollar bill on the counter. The man - who could only be his RUGGED AND NOBLE-LOOKIN BODYGUARD AND SECURITY CHIEF - swaggered bowlegged beside him, straddling the oddly-retro red leather stool as coolly and charismatically as he WOOD YER FOOKIN MAM.

 

"Whatever this'll buy us," he said with a polite grin, just before the older man butted in with a "CARD HIS PRETTY ARSE QUICK, LAD! They're about to raise an Amber Alert for him on the set of Gossip Girl!"

 

-Tyler

Edited August 8, 2015 by Luke Schwarz

[HeavyMetalSunshineSister]

IC (Aramis):

 

After his water arrived, Aramis watched the scene unfolding at the bar in a mute mixture of horror and what could almost be called admiration.

 

"Someone actually ordered mule juice," Aramis whispered into his glass, too awed to say it any louder. After a moment to allow full comprehension of the sheer Irishness of the man to sink in, he simply stared into his water, trying to remember a world in which he hadn't seen a man down a full glass of mule juice.

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Alecto)

 

Whatever commentary Alecto was going to provide was drowned out in a storm of what could be described as choked laughter. "B-breath. Have to...b-reath..." Despite the reminder, the storm continued unabated. Desperate, he gestured at Snow's smartphone. "R-record this." Another bout of laughter. "T-the world needs...." He cut himself off again, with yet another cluster of choked laughs. "D-deserves to see this."

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

Alaric took his glass of Maker's Mark gratefully and sipped at it while Kyle downed his glass of granite-colored mule juice in a gulp and an aaah.

 

"Wanted to take a while before making my way back to the office," he told his security chief after he'd calmed down. "Gala's coming up quicker than I thought. Lacey's going with Romulus--"

 

"Is she know? Stole your man? ###### girl, that Marko." Kyle took his second glass of mule juice (Ric shrugged and pointed at the hundred on the counter again in silent reinforcement of his security chief) and quaffed it gratefully. "So. Havin' a hard time choosin' a date, are you? Just decided to make yer way downtown, walkin--"

 

"No don't"

 

"--FACES PASS, AND YER HOMEBOUND?"

 

"I'll find a date stop in' singing"

 

"Naw, lad. I will. YOU THERE! LAD WITH THE FLAPPERS!" Kyle downed his third mule juice in an emphatic toast and tousled Alaric's hair in what must have passed for an Irishman's impersonation of Lynae Rosewood. "You seem like a man of the fine dick'n'balls school of sorcery! You want Elizabeth Taylor here's numbah!?"

 

-Tyler

Edited August 8, 2015 by Luke Schwarz

[HeavyMetalSunshineSister]

IC (Aramis):

 

He could see no resemblance between the unfortunate man drowning in mule juice-soaked Irishness and Elizabeth Taylor, but then again, he couldn't see the resemblance between mule juice and a drink. Horror had given way to a sort of numb fascination, as though he were David Attenborough casually narrating a fight between a flying train and a screaming Scandinavian man swinging a popsicle.

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Alecto)

 

Record this.

 

He must have mouthed that silently to Snow a dozen times before the very loud, very very irish man asked him to participate in what could only be described as performance art. He took a moment to do his best impersonation of Muttley, Then, as expected, Alecto bellowed back an answer. "What'd it cost me!?" 

Edited August 27, 2015 by Havelock Vetinari

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"A night with a handsome billionaire--"

 

"Ignore him."

 

"--free drinks and entertainment--"

 

"He's lying."

 

"--and last time, vampires fell from the skylights and waged a bloody coven war right there on the dance floor! To PANIC AT THE DISCO! Fookin' ironic, right!?"

 

"He's homeless. I'm sponsoring him for--"

 

"Sponsorin'? I'm drinkin' 'ere!"

 

"Kyle, you're guzzling that drain cleaner like breast milk. That's not drinking."

 

"Tha's nothin'. One time in Sarasota, Saphine bet on me to survive more exposure to black tar heroin than a captured boar! We fed on homemade pork rinds for a FORTNIGHT!"

 

"I need to talk with Saphine."

 

"NO YOU DON'T! His number's 845-"

 

"Don't."

 

"-464-"

 

Alaric resigned himself to the fact that he had to be running out of phone number changes by this point and finished his drink sullenly.

 

Next time, he'd just fight Tali.

 

-Tyler

[HeavyMetalSunshineSister]

IC (Aramis):

 

The chicken tenders had arrived, unnoticed. He'd been looking forward to them, excited about them, even. He'd spent easily half an hour wishing he had a good plate of chicken tenders. Now he was forced to ignore them by the bizarre spectacle unfolding at the bar. Finally coming to a decision, he cleared his throat, and asked the question that had been on his mind since the moment the Irishman had downed a glass of mule juice and proceeded to not give up entirely on the concept of beverages.

 

"Excuse me, I don't mean to intrude, but is he just... like that? Always? Nights and weekends included?"

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"Since the day I hired him, compadre."

 

-Tyler

[HeavyMetalSunshineSister]

IC (Aramis):

 

"Good luck with that. Really."

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Alecto)

 

Alecto crowed in victory. " done! Talk to ya later angelface!" Alecto favored the beleaguered billionaire with a slightly scandalous, entirely schadenfreude laden wink. He then turned back to Jesika for a moment, grin splitting his face. "Always nice to see an employee who looks out for his boss. Warms the heart."

 

To his credit, he sounded almost entirely deadpan.

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"Way t' go, Alaric. You really went and broke Saphine's heart. And Thistledown has a fookin daughter tha's into you, too. Was gonna hook you two up at the party tonight and everythin'. This is really gonna break the heart of poor old--"

 

Alaric casually brushed his hair over his ears - and covered them with his hands - when Kyle uttered Thistledown's first name like it was just some casual in' name.

 

"Thanks for the bourbon. He'll pay for the rest. Seriously, man, delete my number."

 

Yeah, like that was gonna work. Ric wouldn't delete Ric's number...if Ric was gay.

 

...Thistledown had a daughter?

 

"Thistledown has a daught--"

 

"OUT WITH YA!"

 

Alaric rolled his eyes - perhaps slightly pleadingly - at Aramis, and then walked back out to the California in the parking lot. Leaving Kyle alone in the bar. With 65 bucks for mule juice.

 

-Tyler

[sunflower]

IC: Jesika

 

She peeked out from behind the screen of her sticker-encrusted phone, giving Alecto an empathetic nod.  Her smile didn't quite match Batboy's, though the amused smirk certainly displayed her interest in the suddenly loud restaurant.

 

"Sure, sure."

 

There's a number to remember.

 

Good thing she had it all on camera.

 

"It was very sweet of him."

Edited August 9, 2015 by hollow( )moon

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Alecto)

 

"Snow. Something wonderful has happened today." Alecto's grin quickly became the -eating variety. "So. You wanna start spamming his phone or should I do the honors?"

[sunflower]

IC: Jesika

 

"You go ahead, ladies first."

 

Jesika thumbed through her contacts, finally finding the correct one to go to in this time of need.

 

 

 

 

 

 

BROOKLYN HOLY ####

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Alecto)

 

"You're a real gentlemen Snow." Alecto pulled his phone out of his pocket, and with a wicked grin, snapped a picture of the now lonesome Kyle. He paused for a moment, considering, carefully, the exact tact he'd take with this.

 

Eh.

 

Whatever.

 

He sent the picture to the billionaires phone, with a text attached.

 

Ice cold bby. I like cold.

 

He could just tell he'd found his next hobby for the month. Nothing like giving a pretty boy, straight billionaire a week or four of to lift the spirits. And nothing, speaking from experience, annoyed pretty boy billionaire's like a continual stream of lazy, no-effort come on's.

 

He'd learned that in Taiwan. Good times.

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

Joke.

 

Big, thick, blonde cosmic ###### joke.

 

In the twenty-one days since Red Skull had died and Dallas Green had taken the Uber of shame home to Westchester, he'd slept maybe...thirty nine hours, and three of them had been in the car. For the first week, trying to readjust to having a broken arm, he had tried gaming with Alec and Nero on and off before his inability to use his joystick to roll for cover or steal a car finally got the better of him. In a fit of rare anger, he'd snapped for Nero to just gnaw on his arm a little or something so the ###### BONE WOULD MEND, and he hadn't touched video games since. 

 

Then, on a visit to Doc Thomas' office in a last-minute attempt for help, he'd noticed the blood under the chair.

 

At least after that the rage had quelled. 

 

He had, in fact, grown so quiet in his dorm that even Alex had noticed and called on him once or twice. Ashley knocked on the door asking for him more frequently than that, once she was out of bed, and Sakuya Harada had appeared even more than that, even forcing her way inside to play him music a couple times. She had left a few days after he'd heard about Nicole (slitting her own throat g u s h i n g blood dying on the floor [like her dad] GAGGING as one does), promising to come back and cheer him up as soon as she got back from celebrating her mom's 40th birthday.

 

Of course she had to jaywalk on the way out of her local record store - he'd watched her do it once, the first time they'd met. And of course on this one occasion she had been listening to her gunmetal gray iPod Classic with the dozens of free gigabytes for all the As Tall as Lions and Arctic Monkeys albums she'd yet to hear, she'd been creamed. And croaked en route to surgery.

 

As one does.

 

The next day, he'd left his dorm - unshowered, with a hoodie zipped up to his belly button and circles under his eyes - to head down to the wood shop and attempt to saw his cast off. It was enough of a problem finding a card that gave Sakuya's mom birthday wishes and condolences. Not knowing cursive with his left hand? Straw that broke the camel's back.

 

Well, it had worked, and his arm was...only slightly as mangled as he'd thought it would be...which was very, very mangled...but at least he'd gotten the cast off before his flesh started sloughing off at the skin when he tried to shave it. That had happened to a girl he dated in middle school. She had torn up her entire ###### leg because it had gotten hairy and sweaty under the cast. Like a werewolf's. John.

 

He'd thought a lot about John. John, who had wanted to be Wolverine so ###### bad that he had walked a road with Daken that had led right through the window of a penthouse apartment. Alex, too, Alex who had probably completely overridden Siri on his phone by this point. He'd dreamt of Alecto for a long time (in a few ways that surprised him) but even those dreams had faded. In his dreams, he saw a beautiful young boy holding up his hands against a force only the two of them could see. For a while, he was giving ground as the force pushed and pushed, but the beautiful boy transformed before his eyes into something dark and laughing and hurting that pushed back harder. He invented himself from head to toe into a force of his own, pure personality, that would ###### the world if only someone could make him care for it.

 

The men in my life, thought Dallas Green in the shower.

 

Showering was about all he did now. The hot water cascading into his nostrils was what woke him up most mornings, and two things Westchester never seemed to lack for were hot water or fresh mornings. He'd stand in the shower for a few minutes and contemplate what he was gonna do with the day. He wasn't really feeling creative. Or athletic. Definitely not musical. Not even horny. He'd just stand in the shower, showering, and contemplate what he'd do to pass the time until the next shower. He'd run out of shampoo days ago, and was now just running off body wash for everything, but he didn't really mind. His old shampoo was peppermint, and there were old memories in peppermint.

 

There were old memories everywhere in Westchester. Ghosts, too. He'd joked to Nicole about it once. Ghosts in Ric's classroom, ghosts in the gym, ghosts in their very beds. How many ghosts have I shared my bed with?

 

Christ, he needed to get out of the shower. He'd been standing so long, leaned forward with head pressed into the tile, that you'd think the Blair Witch had caught him in his bathroom. His highlighted hair was starting to dry against his forehead. He saw himself, slim and tall, through the fogged mirror. He saw a little more of his ribs than he had yesterday. Food rations were low in the colony on Planet Dallas.

 

He should eat. And ######. And go outside. Just like Showstopper did. Was Tali Relo back? Had he left her for Bekah? Alecto? Maybe he needed a hookup.

 

...He came up with a private joke in his head, but crushed it before he could even finish the thought. Too far, even for him.

 

...

 

Food, though. Maybe he could use a bit of food. It was that time of the day again.

 

...

 

...

 

...

 

But maybe a shower first.

 

-Tyler

Edited August 9, 2015 by Luke Schwarz

[sunflower]

IC: Jesika

 

yabba dabba doooo

 

some slick #### just walked into wild wings with ur brothers transcendent 4real face

 

i hve his number

 

we talkin like he looked so much like ric that he hopped outta instagram and into the fire???

 

more of grabbed and bodily tossed into via irishdude

 

who happnd to knw his number

Edited August 9, 2015 by hollow( )moon

[AuRon the champion]

Ic:

 

Kristen knocked on the door again, listening for anyone on the other side of the door. Nothing.

So she simply grimaced and withdrew a letter from a pocket, a folded up piece of paper that she had taken far too long to write up. She slid the paper under the door, then headed off into the institute to look for something to do whilst waiting.

 

The letter read the following:

 

Hi doc. I wanted to talk to you. I want to tell you... Everything. I mean everything. Getting it all off my chest might make me feel better. Maybe I'll be able to start making something out of my life. I kinda hope so. Lemme start from the, well, start. I'm from another dimension, yea. When I was born, my mother didn't really want me- I was probably just going to languish in some orphanage somewhere if it wasn't for one person, Sarah Hailey, who I call my actual mom. She adopted me, and raised me. This is the start of it all. Someone knew about my powers, I had always had them and I could always control them more or less, but someone knew. One day they came our home, and took over my mind. A Telepath. They made me murder my own mother. My own hands- I used my power to absorb all of her being into myself. I can't describe what I felt- since even though I felt things within me, I wasn't in control. The telepath was. I know I was sad. Sad, and angry, and disgusted. I killed my mother. Forced to do it. That's stayed with me. After that, the telepath used me. They had me kill people, people they wanted dead. They reduced my mind until I was just a smart animal, one that could kill anything and handle itself in a fight. I did that, until I met the X-Men, who freed me from the Telepath's influence- but they never fixed me, or tried to help me. They just treated me like an animal, locking me up and letting me loose when they needed something dead. I remember hating them. Especially Alaric the most. I think, subconsciously, I still do. When the Phalanx invaded, I cut loose, and killed whatever I was pointed at. When I was brought along to Earth, I helped free your Alex. Then, after dicking around, we assaulted the Weapon X base, where your version of the same telepath who controlled me accidentally "fixed" me. Things were looking good. I was able to use my copy of my mother's personality and memories to bring her back to life. I met my older sister. I met the other, loser, me. Things were looking good, then everything went to . All the personalities of the people I've killed over the years started trying to assert themselves- a literal legion of voices, talking and yelling and assaulting myself... All the time. Even now. Then my mom shot beast, and apparently came back to finish the job. I got not only my arm cut off, but permanently stuck in this body, with no powers and no way to get them back it seems. Even with my new arm, I'm still crippled. I can't feel anything through the new arm, and I can't tell my own strength. I tend to break most things that I touch. I admit I like how this body is, and how it just feels... Better. But there's a cost. I've started to learn- attending classes and slowly learning things, but I am not really good with anything in classes. When I showed up, it was a good day if I even got a C in anything. I know what I'm good at- the only thing I've ever been good at. Killing people. I've been doing that for more than half my life. I know that killing people is my speciality, and yet now that I'm powerless, I can't. At the same time, now that I'm not under anyone's thumb, I don't want to kill anyone, unless I'm fighting them. And I don't think I can ever do anything else but kill people. It feels like I'm trapped. Speaking of killing, I wanted to talk about the incident with Joey Walker, and Dallas taking an axe to the dorm doors. Not long after I lost my arm, Joey was able to get photographs of me when lacking a shirt, and later photographs of my entire body. He blackmailed me into spending time with him, and threatened to make sure everyone saw these photographs of I ever talked. After awhile, he started to force himself and me into awkward situations, using the photographs to make me do what he wanted. Eventually leading to him using me for his own satisfaction. He raped me. Those are difficult words to write- or admit, but it's the truth. With time to think, and the deletion of the photographs during the incident, I admit that's what happened. I also wanted to speak about Dallas. He was one of two people that helped me once I lost my arm. He's my best friend, helping me time and time again whenever I was in need. I've repaid him by being a to him, repeatedly. I know I want to change my character in this, but I think he's done trying to be my friend, and I can understand that. Which means I'm alone. And I'm afraid. I've thought about seriously hurting, even killing myself before. I think about listening to the legion of voices in my head and simply offing myself. And every time so far that I've thought about it, I've been too much of coward. I'm a coward who's an idiot in her classes. I don't like myself, and I can't even properly deal with any of these problems. I want your help, please.

 

Kristen Hailey

[Razgriz]

IC: ...

This pregnant pause had long since turned into an uncomfortable, awkward silence, the kind of silence I absolutely hated. Seriously, peaceful, restful, companionable, there were so many better alternative forms of silence that it wasn't even funny! Someone say something, I'm dying over here!

However, after the bomb Jenna had just dropped, it appeared Leon, who I suppose would count as my senpai, had lost the head full of steam he'd apparently built up to confront her.

I was going to need to take things into my own hands.

A-hem.

"Everything alright over there?"

I called it innocently, hoping to break the tension and get their conversation rolling again by my outside influence. 

I suppose it's a bit selfish of me, trying to force them to come to a resolution before they themselves were ready, and for that, I suppose I am also sorry to a degree. But honestly, I don't think you could blame anyone for trying to force their way into a heated conversation between the two people they have left and try to do something.

Rationally, I'd say it's almost expected to be what you'd want to do.
 

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Leon)

 

Leon had not trusted himself to speak, not even remotely. He had not expected Jenna's response to be.....what it had been. Or to catch a glimpse of what laid beneath that carefully cultivated mask (he hadn't even known there'd been a mask) of carefree vampiric party girl. So he was inordinately grateful when the new kid took the chance to inject himself into the conversation.

 

"....I think so...?" The statement came out as a question. Considering the circumstances, he wasn't shocked. 

[Razgriz]

IC: Evidently, he was about as sure of his answer as I was. It sounded almost as if he was asking himself rather than answering me.

Not that I blamed him. Things went from roughly zero to one hundred in the span of that minute of exchange.

"Just checking," I replied, with a frown concealed from view behind the back of my head as I scanned the floor once more. 

An idea occurred, and after a stalwart session of review, transitioned to an action. The subject as a whole seemed to be the source of the silence, therefore...

"Say, er... What exactly would I want to be looking for besides, you know, bloodstains and ash traces and the like? I'm not coming up with a lot over here."

I should remove them from it.

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"That's the point!" Jenna, with her spunk pulled back around herself like a shawl, leapt off the bar and paced further into the pit. "There's nothing you want to look for here. Bloodstains, ash stains, spilled booze, that's just typical fare for any place with a lot of humans who may or may not know how to defend themselves. Humans love partying as much as vampires do; just like humans love curling up in front of good books or curling up in front of a stacked Netflix queue just as much as us. Individualism is big, and there's no such thing as a single go to place to find vampires in part of a city like this. Nobody here ever had to worry about vampire slayers. What they had to worry about..."

 

half-hearted attempt at dramatic flourish

 

"...were werewolves."

 

-Tyler

Edited August 10, 2015 by Luke Schwarz

[Snelly]

IC: Krystal

 

Krystal sneezed. 

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Leon)

 

Leon boggled for a moment. ".....Those actually exist?" Out of sheer reflex, he brushed back his hair with his right hand while the information sunk in. He waited a few more seconds for the punch line. "You're actually serious." This brought up alot of questions. Like why Jenna hadn't dragged him along on a roadtrip across the country in search of a Werewolf.

 

Simply so she could dump a bucket of steak juice over his head and use him as bait. Come to think of it....there it was, that familiar stab of prescient dread.".....We're going to try to find one. Aren't we."

Edited August 10, 2015 by Havelock Vetinari

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"Psssh. Frickin' a, nah. I've never seen a werewolf in my life. I always thought they were a story girls like Lynae would tell girls like me to keep them around the coven at all times. Enzo saw one, though, not far from Frankfurt. Toughest son of a he ever fought, once it caught on to what he was." Jenna hopped up onto an old, ratty speaker and crossed her legs atop it. "Werewolves, or lycanthropes, part of the canine division of the therianthrope family. Bigger than us, hairier than us, slower but much stronger. Good enough with those ugly paws to take off one of our heads with a swing of each. There was a big concentrated effort to wipe them all out during the Atlantic Revolutions, but it's tough to kill an entire species - especially one that can spread itself through a single little nip. Farther out east, towards Siberia, I hear they never went out of style at all. To the West, they started seeing a big resurgence with the baby boom."

 

Jenna snorted in laughter.

 

"Crazy, right? Anyway, after that, packs started really rebuilding themselves in Europe and North America. You get legends in Michigan time and again, you hear about dogmen and , but there was actually a pack rumored to be right across the river. Not far from Westchester, actually. Of course, nobody could ever prove that at nights giant human-wolf hybrid freaks roamed the streets of New York City sniffing out the undead and tearing them limb from limb, but the older vampires always just kinda figured, you know? Slayers are way too neat freaky."

 

-Tyler

[Havelock Vetinari]

IC (Leon)

 

Leon blinked once. 

 

Twice.

 

A thousand questions came to mind, and each was carefully considered. Not for the possible informational value they might provide, but rather by how likely they were to convince Jenna to do something unwise. And thus drag him into something unwise. And result in a sock being jammed down his throat upon informing Jenna that the action in question was, in fact, unwise. ".....So. Werewolves exist and our races are at war and I owe a few movie directors an apology. Got it." He paused again, and appeared to consider something. "Any idea who shot first and set off the race war?"

 

Or was it even a race war at all? Were they fighting the Werewolf equivalent of the Klan?

 

This led, of course, to the mental image of a Werewolf dressed up in full-on bigot regalia. He would have laughed, but knowing Jenna, she'd guess what he was thinking and decide they needed to capture a Werewolf and play dress up.

 

One learned to be careful.

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"Don't think of it as a war. It's more like...inter-species freeze tag. s got us good out west, you know. Baja California and the Southwest? Wolf's paradise."

 

-Tyler