April 23, 2016:

A werewolf and a dhampir walk into a bar… 'tis the beginning of a beautiful friendship, albeit an unusual one.

Dell's Bar, Mutant Town


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Dell's is a simple bar among many just like it in Mutant Town, New York. Tucked in among a number of shops, it exists partially below ground-level, with its windows overlooking the sidewalk.

The bar's interior is fairly rustic - with an 'earthen' tone to it that is matched by the owner's choice of decor. The owner, Dell, is a tall man who works behind the bar-counter and he is clearly a mutant or metahuman of some kind: he resembles something of a werefox.

In fact, the place is populated with a significant number of 'weres' of various kinds tonight, as well as an assortment of other patrons - human, mutant or otherwise. A live band plays on the stage, and there are pool tables in the middle of the room.

From the bathrooms at the back a toilet flushes and several minutes later Jack Russell enters the main floor - pausing only to fix his fly, which he had forgotten to zip up properly. The golden-eyed man is dressed in jeans, shirt and a long coat, and taps his foot to the music as it's played.

As Russel adjusts his pants, a newly arrived woman, clad in a midnight blue silk blouse and black business slacks, the bottoms of the legs flaring out towards the bottom to mask the fact she wears leather boots of some sort rather than dress shoes, stands and watches with a glimmer of amusement sparkling in her smoky quartz eyes. Long, curly black hair trails down past her shoulders and along her back in a shiny black mane.

She wears no jacket or coat and there's a sort of, undefinable quality about her that might be noticed but brushed off by those unlike herself as nothing. Another hunter, a different kind of predator, would likely mark her as the same. "Careful. That could turn out rather tragically if one isn't paying attention. Or so I've been told." The woman's voice is light and almost musical, a hint of laughter behind the words.

A slow smile spreads across Russell's face as he lifts his head and glances sideways to look at the person who just spoke to him. The smile widens at first, but halts as he frowns, his nostrils flaring.

Another predator - much like him. His ears twitch in that same moment, and faintly elongate into points; his appearance might almost be considered 'elfin' at this point, if it weren't for the fangs in his mouth.

This close to a full moon, it is hard /not/ to change, but not impossible.

"I can take it," he replies with a smirk. "The real question is — can I buy you a drink?"

Her response as Russ's smile turns to a frown might also be unexpected, the woman grins then winks when he decides to offer her a drink instead of the possible fight she'd half been bracing for. Idly, she wonders if he is a mutant. Suspects that isn't quite the case. Werewolves aren't unknown to her but not something she's come across often. Or in such a friendly manner.

Again there is that glimmer of amusement though this time, no explanation for why. She prefers people think she's a mutant or meta herself. It's safer that way. "A drink, mm?" A faint quirking of her lips as she responds. "Sure, why not?" Crystalline eyes turn and survey the room for a moment. "Place seems alright. Interesting mix of sorts." Is that approval in her voice now?

"Best things in life are hunted-for," Russell replies coolly, giving his new drinking companion a once-over at the same time. Motioning with one hand, he indicates a couple of seats at a nearby empty table and starts walking over there. "Gotta hunt ta find a place good as Dell's."

The werewolf signals a passing waitress with a look and says, "Bloody Mary," to her. Then, giving Tajana another sidelong glance he adds: "Two of them." There's a small pause before he asks his friend, "Gotta name? Ya can call me Russ."

She laughs, a rich and genuine sound. "Is that so?" Since she'd been out hunting for just such a place as this, she agrees. Still, it won't do to give that away. The woman gives Russ a sidelong glance of her own at his choice of drinks for them but doesn't comment. She leans her back against the bar and studies the room again before answering.

This could be it, the place she's looking for. Or, possibly looking for. She's been in New York for a total of four days now and isn't certain of her future plans yet. Just that it was time to make a change. "It does seem like a proper bar, yes. Ran a place once, bit rowdier than this but.. somewhat the same." A different time, a different country. "I'm Tajana." She uses her given name rather than her 'work' name. This seems like a place she'll at the very least, want to revisit and she isn't here for work anyway.

"Tajana," the werewolf repeats, pronouncing it correctly — as if he were speaking his native language. After sitting down, the wait for the drinks is only short and they arrive at the same time as the band on stage finishes another song. They take a break amid a modest applause from patrons in the room.

"Where'dya own a bar?" Russell asks after putting his drink back down. "What's yer idea o' 'rowdy'?" He smirks, showing some fangs; he must like the sound of 'rowdy'.

That gets a brow raise from Tajana. People rarely manage to get it right the first time and almost never do if they are reading it. "Romania. And for a shorter time, Greece. It was awhile ago." She's aware he might not believe her. People usually don't, she doesn't look more than twenty, if even that. Then again, Russ seems to be someone who knows that that appearances can be deceiving.

Tajana twirls the celery stalk in her drink thoughtfully. Yes, he does. Lifting the vegetable to her lips, she slowly licks the drink from the underside, never letting a drop fall onto her clothing. "Mmm. Got a bit of bite to it. Just how I like it." Tajana considers a moment before answering further. "Wasn't a night where you didn't have to break a few heads and heave a few people outside but it was usually all in good fun."

The smirk on Russ's face — yes, he is feeling quite pleased with himself — widens into a wry smile of appreciation, a smile that remains there even while he downs more of his drink. Upon lowering the glass again, he smacks his lips.

"Transylvania," he remarks laconically, as if to explain how he knew the language. "Did yer joint have a name? I mighta been there once upon a moon. I remember this place in Bucharest I liked. …The Hollow Tree. Lively, yeah. Lotsa grit." He pauses to have more of his drink and glance around the room.

"Mosta these places're so tame, I half expected 'em ta only have orange juice 'n warm milk on tap. Sometimes ya get surprised — know what I mean?"

His golden eyes light up as he says that last line, looking at Tajana.

She's good at hiding her real feelings but around someone like him, it's much harder to do. Despite her mild reaction he might note her surprise, even delight. Followed quickly by a note of confusion. She doesn't let people in, let them get close. She never has but of late, it's gotten quite wearisome, being all alone, all the time. There isn't any expression to show the nature of her thoughts, but her emotions are still there and much harder to hide.

With a bit of internal effort, Tajana pushes them aside and just focuses on the moment. "I do, yes." She grins at Russ. Interesting and strange, meeting someone here from her part of the world. Enough so that she decides to give the name of the place. It's a slight risk, the bar has been gone a hundred years but the name, is one she still uses and those in need of such things will surely have heard, "The Amaranth."

The werewolf shifts his position so that he is pressing his back into his chair, and tucking in his chin while he glances askance at Tajana. He recognises the name of the bar and makes no effort to hide it.

"That's some place," he murmurs to his new drinking companion. The words kind of rumble in the back of his throat — it is not quite a growl, but it does make his words sound just a touch like Scooby-Doo's brogue.

"I ain' been there in… Jesus, fer-ever." He leans in a little and lowers his voice for whatever good it will do him, and says, "Didn'cha have some coven o' blood suckers make a mess there? Hmm… goin' back some years now."

That does get a brow raise of surprise and further interest. Well then. "Quite some time ago, but yes. There was." A low chuckle and another grin as Tajana turns to view Russ. "Not for long though." Amusement still but a hot flash of anger, the bitter tang of long nursed hatred. "That was a different time. Far less of their kind around these days, or so I'm told." Less, but still too many. A single vampire would be too many by Tai's reckoning.

A careful, considering pause before she continues. "Not a lot of people would recognize or remember the name." Usually only those in need of a certain skill-set, or those hunting her. Since no one knows she's here yet and she's relatively sure she wasn't tracked.. well, Russ has definitely got her attention right now. She's curious. Very curious.

Russell lifts his chin, a smug look on his face as he settles back into his seat, practically /lounging/ in it rather than 'sitting'. Sticking out a leg in front of him, he drains the rest of his Bloody Mary and puts the glass down.

"Let's just say I'm from the old country — we got long memories. Yer a long way from home, Tajana." He frowns again, equally interested. "If I ask what brought ya all the way ta Mutant Town, what wouldja say?"

The band returns to the stage and kicks off with an upbeat number to get people bopping to the music. Some do, most just listen. And drink. Lots of drinking. The noise from a group of 'weres' - cats mainly - in the far corner makes Russell's ears twitch and his nose wrinkle.

This is not his kind of noise.

Tajana eyes the werecats for a long moment. She probably scents of a mild sort of disbelief at the moment. M-Town is definitely all she'd heard and more. "Uhm." It takes a second for her to realize Russ just asked her a question, another to recall the question. What would she say? A flippant answer would be her usual response but.. she's here because she's tired of the usual. Still, an inborn sense of self preservation urges Tajana to be careful.

Slowly, those smoky eyes track back to Russ and meet warm gold before she decides to hell with caution, this once. "I would say perhaps we should go to continue this conversation. As to what brought me here.. a hunt of course." She grins and winks at Russ. It may sound like a brushoff but she suspects Russ can tell the truth behind the words. She might not be sure exactly what it is she is hunting for, but she is hunting nonetheless. A new home? Job? Definitely a new city and country. Whatever she's looking for, Tajana knew she wasn't going to find it back home. It wasn't really home anymore and hasn't been for a very long time.


Simply-spoken, the word hangs in the air after leaving Russell's lips and he follows it up with a reach into his back pocket to put some cash on the table. Rising to his feet, he gives Dell a polite nod — it is a good bar after all — and shoves his seat under the table once more, with his foot.

Scarcely waiting for Tajana to follow, the werewolf heads toward the back entrance of the bar, rather than the front door. The air outside is not particularly cold, nor warm, and Russ does not appear to care either way.

As soon as he is out of earshot of the other 'weres', he snorts and rakes a hand back through his mane of russet hair. "Goddamned werecats," he mutters. "I swear I ain' never gettin' th' smell o' cat outta my nostrils; it just… stays there. Whaddya reckon, better?"

And he motions to the alleyway around them.

Tajana stands and moves nimbly after Russ. She's only an inch shorter but is quite a bit more slight and easily moves through the crowd of people. She doesn't appear bothered by the temperature either and didn't stop to grab a coat or jacket so clearly didn't bring one with her.

She regards the alleyway thoughtfully for a moment and then tilts her head back a bit and raises a brow at Russel. "I'm not sure I'd say "better" but it's certainly quieter. Last time I heard that kinda noise, found a street cat entertaining suitors under my window." She seems to think for a moment, and glances back at the bar. "Not sure which was worse."

"Well it ain' the destination," Russ replies with a wry half-grin while craning his head back so he can see up the walls of the building in which the bar is located. It is a few storeys tall — nothing major. He takes a deep breath in through his nostrils, reacting slightly to the smell of the alley, but for the most part he appears happy to be outdoors once more.

He looks — smells, and feels — hungry.

Russell's features shift a little more: his arms grow hairier, his face changes, and his fingers grow claws. In seconds he looks like a typical wolfman.

And for some reason, he doesn't appear to mind revealing this.

"Drugs 'n gunpowder," he murmurs deep in the back of his throat. "Ain' far, neither. Feel like chasin' some scum? Can be profitable — if ya know what yer doin'."

Tajana laughs. Oh this is turning out much better and far more interesting than she'd expected. She definitely chose the right bar to wander into. "Sounds like a good time to me." Tajana pulls a hair tie from a pocket on her slacks and swiftly has her hair braided and tied back out of the way.

She'd watched the changes in Russ without comment though her expression had been one of admiration, even approval. She's realized how unlikely the possibility of her hiding her real feelings are around him and for the moment seems to have given it up. "You can keep the profits though, it's the action that interests me."

"Action is profit," the wolfman replies with a toothy grin. He hesitates a second later, and shrugs his shoulders. "But profit is more profit. C'mon. See if ya can keep up."

With that, the werewolfy fellow leaps straight upward, grabs hold of a fire-escape railing, puts his feet underneath him and leaps again —

— this time, straight onto the roof. Moonlit glints in his golden eyes a moment before he turns away, momentarily disappearing from view.

The second he leaps, Tajana takes her own route up, using the ledge under the windows to climb the building. She's fast and able to jump and leap quite a bit further than one might expect. She lands a second, maybe two after Russ, making no noise as she flips up over the edge and her feet touch the roof. Tai springs up from the crouch of her landing to stand at his side.

It isn't the moonlight that shines in her eyes, though there is a brief flash, a glimpse of fire borne of excitement and her own inner power rather than that of the silver shine setting her skin and her companion's eyes nearly aglow. "I don't think keeping up will be a problem." She laughs softly.

Russell's grin widens, and he lifts his head to the night air, practically tasting the myriad scents carried his way on the breeze. Abruptly, he looks back down again at Tajana.

"Gunpowder," he murmurs in a low growl. "Drugs." And he turns about, peering across the rooftops. "That way." With no further preamble, the werewolf leaps away and lands in a dead run upon the next rooftop. This direction will take the pair of them to a nearby nightclub — specifically the car-park underneath it. There are cars there, heat signatures — although a couple are cooling rapidly…

Looks promising.

Tajana makes the jump easily, again landing without noise and silently bounding over to duck down and peer into the carport. Her nostrils flare and it isn't gunpowder or drugs that she scents from this distance, it's blood on the wind. Spicy, and sweet, not the acrid tang a human often associates with the stuff. Fresh and warm if not hot, tickling her tastebuds, pricking her hunger and making her senses come alive.

Tajana lets out a long, slow sigh. "Mmmmm.. two down, for good I think. Still more alive..for the moment. A deal gone bad? Rival warmongering? Or something else.." The answers to the questions will determine the appropriate response. If those lying dead below are innocent bystanders.. she will show no mercy to the killers. If the victims were more criminals, a swift capture and divesting them of their assets will suffice. She doubts they will provide much of a challenge for her or her new wolfish companion but the night has just begun.. the city is large and bustling and Tai is certain they can find more trouble after this, should they still be of a mind to.

"…no-good double-crossin' morons…"

"…Hah! That showed them, Boss!"

"… C'mon, I'm hungry. We gonna just leave 'em here, or what? I say leave 'em…"

The banter continues back and forth in similar fashion between the drug-dealers. There are only four of them left now — the cooling bodies on the ground are most certainly dead — and as far as appearances go, they are typical humans.

Evil, murderous, drug-dealing humans — but still humans.

Russell melts into the shadows somewhere close by and makes his way around the little band of criminals. He has nothing in particular against drug-dealers — they usually have a fair amount of cash on them. Drugs, however… make his nose twitch.

Leaving Tajana to make her own approach, the wolfman pads closer — using cars and shadows for cover — until deliberately letting loose a soft growl… the kind of growl that carries across the car-park, getting louder with each echo…

Tajana hangs back for a moment, rolling smoky eyes as she listens to the humans below talking. Well, that answers that. The she watches Russel, blinking a bit in surprise as he disappears from even her keen vision for a time. She has no problem with killing when it's necessary, defense of one's self or another, to stop those who can't be stopped any other way. Justice, vengeance, perhaps even revenge. For food, for survival, these reasons all make sense. But to kill over an object, drugs, money, weapons, these are things she doesn't understand or approve of.

Not in need of money or interested in drugs, it's the fight or possibility of it that draws her. That, the interest in her new acquaintance and of course, the blood on the wind. It's been a day and a half since her last drink, she's pushing past necessity and into the dangerous area of risk now but she hadn't expected to meet someone so fascinating. She'll wait until later, he mustn't know what she really is.

It does occur to Tajana as she drops over the side of the building to land on the roof of the carport, then lowers herself into a crouch behind a beaten, rusty ford, that the Wolfman might already know. He knew one of her languages, seemed to know her profession and certainly had heard of her old bar. Strange, surprising and very unexpected. These emotions are all too rare for her of late and something she's savouring and not in any hurry to end, so yes it's better to keep what she is to herself. Dhampir are very rare after all and even with all that it's still likely he's never heard of one. Not to mention if she's' mistaken for an actual vampire.. those two races don't tend to get along.

"Hey we should go to that Hooter's over on — ," The voice is abruptly cut off and there's a soft grunt of surprise and then a second's silence as the man's companion turns around. "There's a Hooter's by here?! Wh…hey. What are you doing sitting down — "….

"…what the hell…??"

"Jimmy. Jimmy! Get off yer lazy ass 'n — Jesus H. Christ! Jimmy's dead! He's dead, Boss!"

"Wha? Sweet Mary, fan out. We got ourselves a fight on our hands," the 'boss' exclaims as his remaining two goons spread out. Slowly, one tentative step at a time, they move apart from each other, semi-automatic weapons at the ready.

"Boss?" says the thin one.


"I gotta bad feelin' about this, Boss."

"Shaddup 'n search, ya pussy."

"Sure thing, Boss. …Boss?"

"I said shaddup."

"I jus — wha?! AAARGH!!" Something grabs hold of the thin fellow's ankle as he stalks by a four wheel drive vehicle. In a single instant, he is pulled sharply to the ground, his gun firing at random around him, and disappears underneath the car.

"ARGH — !!" The sound cuts off abruptly, and the last two gangsters open fire with their guns, shooting cars, support beams, overhead lights, signage, more cars… and miraculously don't hit each other.


"…um… we get 'em?" one asks.

Tajana is grinning as she moves through the shadows, though the expression falters for a moment. Ooops. She hadn't quite meant to kill the guy but… it's been awhile since she fought ordinary humans. And the last time she fought them this hungry, oh boy.. "I've gotta be more careful." The dhampir murmurs to herself. A bloodbath will blow any chance of her keeping her secret and quite possibly her ability to stay in this city.

When the idiot dealers start randomly shooting at everything around them, Tai crouches in the darkness, they shot out the streetlights, it's even easier now and marvels over the fact that they somehow managed to keep from killing themselves. How do people of such low intelligence manage to stay alive as long they have? Sheer dumb luck? The blessing of some minor deity with a quirky sense of humor? It's a mark of her slight lack of control that Tajana finds herself standing behind the nearest man, moving without even thinking about it, and then answering in a soft, amused voice. "Get who?" The dealer screams, and falls forward, firing his gun wildly and wetting himself as well. The dhampir steps back with an expression of distaste, her thirst momentarily receding. "Oh.. oh I believe your friend was right. You are a pussy."

The 'boss' wheels about, firearm at the ready, and very nearly shoots his own man. It would appear these goons are amateurs. It is strange enough finding humans conducting 'shady business' in Mutant Town of all places — there's no telling what powers might be found nearby in any given pedestrian or motorist — unless they had other intentions besides this deal, being here.

While the man who wet himself scrambles away, his employer decides not to come to his rescue. Turning about, he leaves his man, the drugs, and the money behind as his corpulent frame breaks into a dead run.

He doesn't even go for one of the cars — not after losing one man beneath one.

Russell appears some feet away, flecks of blood staining the sleeves of his shirt — not much blood, but enough to reveal that he has shed some. It is likely not his own, either. "I know this great place on Fifth if you have a mind for dessert," he tells Tajana in a growl.

The words are also spoken in Romani, sans his usual American drawl.

"P-p-p-p-please d-d-don't kill m-me…" the drug-dealer manages to stammer. Russell ignores him and heads over to 'Jimmy' — the one that Tajana accidentally killed. Without a word, his claws extend even more and he slashes the corpse over the bite-wounds, obscuring them.

His nose wrinkles, and he glances back at the remaining fellow. "Ugh, that stinks! Bouncin' breasts o' Miss November! Jesus…"

Tajana gives no outward sign of the shivery tingle that runs down her spine at hearing Russ's rumbly voice speaking her native tongue. Her gaze is drawn momentarily to the fat man attempting to run and she seems amused. The instinctive desire to flee from danger despite it being the dumbest move he could make is understandable if unknown to the woman. She loses the battle with her own instincts from time to time as the first goon's death shows. Still, a blind panic isn't something Tajana has ever experienced herself.

As Russel moves up beside her and then bends to cover the man's wounds, Tai winces. Damn. He saw that huh? But.. masked it.. Unexpected, again and then his curses reach filter through the foggy haze overtaking her mind and Tajana laughs before feeling a tingle of fear. Feeding has a side effect for her. She's drunk off her ass, and only just beginning to realize it. Otherwise she'd surely have disappeared before Russ got so close, or chased (not that it would it be an actual chase.. more like a small leap) after the leader, or any number of other things aside from standing, swaying slightly on her feet. No, her toes. Why is she standing on her toes? Tajana giggles. "Oh. I think.. I am trouble. No.. no I am in trouble."

What was that he said about dessert? She could really go for some dessert right now but wasn't there something to be done. Another little laugh, more nervous sounding. Why did that moron have to cut his neck when she hit him?! "You are not making a good first impression, get ahold of yourself!" The dhampir doesn't seem to realize that wasn't a thought but rather something she spoke aloud.

Russell heads back to the cases with cash and drugs in them, slashes the drugs and takes the cash. He gives the last goon a look, but the man is hysterical with fear. Plus, he stinks. The wolfman's head tilts sideways in curiosity at Tajana and he risks a tentative sniff of her. "Let's get outta here — I don't feel like gangster."

Russ makes his way across the car-park at a walk, reaching out an arm to snag Tajana on his way past. "Stay outta Mutant Town!" he calls back over his shoulder to the last drug-dealer behind him. Then to Tajana he mutters, "Ya left marks on that first guy, ya know. It'll be harder now, fer anyone ta figure out what got 'im. With luck, they'll say it was a dog."

He sniffs and smirks. "Ain' wrong, anyway. Are ya drunk, Tai?"

Tajana can hardly look on the drug slashing with approval considering her current state but she is happy to see that nonetheless. She imagines it would take a rather large quantity to affect a werewolf but a drugged out werewolf… "Now I know what's more dangerous than a werewolf." She grins to herself and follows after Russ, still on her toes.

"Um. A little."

"Okay. A lot."

She giggles and sways and toes forward, not quite stumbling but still reaching out to grab Russ's shoulders and stead herself. "Thank you. I didn't mean to, he cut himself when I hit him and he fell. I haven't.. I just got here. Not usually so careful." Wait, that's not right is it. "Careless. Careless. I'm not careless." But accidents occasionally happen. If she weren't finding it so hard to think straight she'd realise that is probably something Russ is familiar with himself.

Russell checks the case quickly and scowls.

"It's somethin' — not much o' somethin', but… Jesus. What the fuck are humans doin' 'business' in Weirdberg of all places? That jus'… does ma head in…"

The werewolf comes to a halt outside the building; from the muffled noises coming from within, the nightclub appears to be in full swing — and the night is young. The alley will be relatively quiet for a while. He looks down at Tajana and narrows his golden eyes.

"If ya didn't have a heartbeat I'd say ya were a vamp. Ya coulda killed Mr. Soggybritches — hell, coulda killed 'em all." A pause. "Is it safe ta leave ya like… this? I don' know too many mutants as get drunk on blood."

Tai looks around thoughtfully. Well, she sort of looks thoughtful and sort of seems entranced by the music she can hear coming from the club. She's swaying in time to it. "Shouldn't there be police by now?" This is her fourth night in the city, she hasn't learned that the police presence in M-Town usually leaves a lot to be desired.

The club is also pretty damn loud but her hearing is keen, the shots had been much louder to her.

Her eyes slow track towards Russ and then focus on his. Oh. her heartbeat! Of course. That is proof enough she isn't a vampire. A wave of relief floods through her. "Aren't they all different though, with their powers?" "Ah. Shit." They, not we. "I don't suppose you'd believe it was the Bloody Mary?"

Despite the worry in her voice and scent there is still a bit of amusement glimmering in the woman's eyes, at herself and the situtation. It isn't funny that she killed the poor moron, no, but at least he was a bad guy. And as far as first impressions, well, she doubts Russ will forget meeting her for awhile at least. So there's that. "I am not a vampire, no. I hunt them. Usually I prefer people think I'm a mutant but.. hm. Can you tell that by scent? The difference between the regular humans and the mutants?" Hey, good for her, she managed a good question. If he can then he surely knows she isn't one beyond just a suspicion. "I'm fine. It'll fade, in a bit. It's.. a thing, that happens." Every day. Which is why she's learned to function so well despite it. Otherwise she'd totally be on her ass next to the guy who pissed himself. And why the hell is she still standing there?

Tajana scowls down at the man and does a very graceful ballet worthy spin and leap across the street. Landing perfectly poised. For a grand total of three seconds before she pitches forward through the thin glass window of a deli.

"When I think o' 'vamps' I think o' — hey, what th' hell…?"

Russell's reply sort of fades into the night as he watches Tajana shift from answering him, to demonstrating her ballet skills… across (rather, /over/) the street.

The rumble in the back of his throat is a sign of approval — like the beginnings of a chuckle — except that it, too, is cut short when she crashes through the window.

"Shit!" he curses aloud as he makes his way over the street. The cops would surely already be on their way to the nightclub — someone must have heard the gun shots. Someone not drunk. Now the cops will have to attend to a 'suspected break-in', given the noise made by the alarm.

Swearing some more — in Romani — the now-human-looking werewolf gestures toward Tajana and hisses, "Quick, Twinkletoes! I don' wanna be the guy with his trousers down when th' badges show up."

He doesn't wait for her to follow, but leaps straight upward again, for the nearest rooftop. It's a full moon, too… so how come /he's/ the one with the self control? The Transylvanian fellow snorts in derision to himself. He's had worse nights.

And this adventure seems to be just starting…

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