Demimonde Logs Cont - Dec 26/16

(Dec 26) 15:40:38 [Reymund] London was full of cafes, many of which with outdoor seating, but this one was Reymund's favourite. It was almost exactly halfway between the Rose and Rowan Gardens, which made it perfect for quick stops between meetings. It also had the best coffee and espresso in the city. The English were entirely too obsessed with tea, in his opinion. The scientist was sitting at one of the small, round tables out front, flipping through a sheaf of papers and waiting patiently for the waitress to bring his drink. A stout, well-dressed man with a pencil-thin mustache and a frown sat across from him, clearly irritated with the young man's apparent disorganization.
(Dec 26) 15:40:49 [Reymund] “Here,” Rey said breathlessly, emerging victorious from the mess of papers in his hands. “A full list of expenses. Necessary equipment, square-footage... I've even marked out specifics for ventilation. But if I've left anything out, please don't hesitate to -”
(Dec 26) 15:41:00 [Reymund] The other man had stopped him with a raised hand, perusing the report with a critical eye and a stormy expression. Rey shut his mouth and lowered his eyes to the open folder in front of him. He knew it wasn't going well. If only social graces hadn't dictated that he sit and listen while a pasty, over-stuffed aristocrat picked apart his request for funding. He wasn't getting a private laboratory space from the Uppers, that was damn sure. So he'd hit the streets, vying for time with the wealthy elite, and thus far failing to make a good impression. The door generally slammed shut immediately. This man though... Lord Everton, had met with Reymund twice now. The young man had hoped to woo him with tales of miraculous cures... but as usual, as soon as his plans were given a solid cost, interest waned.
(Dec 26) 15:41:19 [Reymund] “Doctor Sanders, you are asking for quite a lot of money,” Everton began. Reymund struggled to not roll his eyes, mouth twitching with effort. The rest of the fat man's denial was full of flowery language and insincere well-wishes. A whole lot of wasted breath when a simple “no” would have sufficed. Most of it went in one ear and out the other. It was mercifully short, at least. They parted as friends, shaking hands and smiling politely... but as soon as Lord Everton's back was turned Rey's smile vanished and he collapsed back into the chair with a weary sigh. The mess of papers before him were pushed unceremoniously into his bag before they could blow away. ”Scheisse.” [E]

(Dec 26) 16:19:39 [Edmond] The days following his visit to the house of the mysterious secret society had left Edmond exhausted. This understatement was on the same level as stating that it would be rather difficult to reach into the sky and pluck out a star, or perhaps the celestial lunar mass as it rose fat and orange above the horizon to tease mercilessly of the sunlight to come at the dawning of the next day. Edmond had found himself working constantly, both legitimately in the public eye through RAPIER, and more covertly on the street. It was as though activity had grown tenfold in the past few days, sightings of these monsters coming more and more frequently. It was more likely, though, that Edmond had just become more adept at picking out the subtle signs of his nefarious nemeses, his hunting and tracking abilities growing. He had killed another the night before, and had wounded one that ran away the night before that. The most difficult part, thus far, was to prepare and predict the movements until execution was possible and likely to succeed. It had been a long day already and, through the haze of lacking sleep and, thus, clarity of mind, the Hunter had found himself sitting at a table waiting with the utmost calm and patience for a cup of the vile, wonderful black elixir that would wake him enough to, perhaps, brave the streets once more. Sleep tomorrow, he promised himself in an internal litany that seemed to be all that was keeping him alive and awake at the moment.
(Dec 26) 16:19:52 [Edmond] year ago. Dahlia didn't like the fashion and found it diThe young man was fraying at the edges quite obiously. It looked as if his face had been hit with a sledge hammer, leaving both of his eyes sunken and black in retreating sockets. His face seemed pale, much moreso than simple lack of sunlight, but rather a total lack of regard for the necessary functions of sleep and food. Slipping into a sort of sleep deprived fugue state, Edmond was able to focus only on the moment, ignoring the larger and more deadly scope of the world around him as the shadows begin to lengthen each night. He felt vulnerable, out in the open as he was and nearly unarmed, at least by his standards. He carried his saber and his shillelagh, of course, but nothing else. These were the accepted items carried by a gentleman in the light of day. Weapons of dueling and of fashion, though both dueling and hand-to-hand weapons were falling out of fashion with the hip-carried guns like the American Settlers becoming an eccentric decoration seen somewhat regularly. Through the haze, Edmond pulled out a cigarette rolled in dark brown paper and, with a wooden match, lit it and let the smoke hang heavy in the air about him. He hadn't smoked a stastefully stinky. Dahlia...
(Dec 26) 16:20:02 [Edmond] The gap between himself and Reymond was only a few tables, mostly unoccupied and only obstructed by occasional passers-by. Some dim recollection tugged at Edmond's tired brain as he sought to place the face and posture in the map of humanity he had encountered in his lifetime. Where did he know the guy from? It wasn't as if the face and figure were something easy to forget, was it? Even seated, Edmond could tell that the man was gangly and, by the standards of those generally surrounding, exceptionally tall. Scrubbing the heel of his hand over sandpaper-filled eyes, Edmond shook the thoughts away. It wasn't important. Maybe he'd passed the guy on the street somewhere. His drink had arrived, steaming and full of stimulants that would keep him awake for another few hours as night fell. The first sip of the wretched brew was enough to dispell any thoughts of the tall man whose eye he had caught for a matter of moments over their separated space. A sigh. Another puff of the cigarette. Another drink of the potion that tasted of death but granted life. Tonight. Tonight would be the last night. Then he would rest.

(Dec 26) 16:37:22 [Reymund] The very same waitress who delivered Edmond's drink brought Reymund's as well. The chatty young woman paused to have a brief conversation with the scientist before she rushed off to tend to needier patrons. Rey watched her flounce off with a distracted half-smile. It paid to be a regular customer, and being a generous tipper certainly didn't hurt.
(Dec 26) 16:37:28 [Reymund] The crack of the match and initial puff of cigarette smoke pulled Reymund's attention away from the retreating waitress and to the haggard-looking man slouched at a table nearby. Smoking. Disgusting habit, that. And with his senses as strong as they were, it was nearly torture. Perhaps it would be best to take his leave. As Rey stood up to gather his things, he glanced back over at the man while he puffed on like a locomotive... and recognized him. Madame Buchanan's angry guest. And he looked awful. Had the poor man slept since he'd stormed out of Rose Garden? Having been with the Society well over a year himself, Reymund could imagine the kind of trouble the stranger might have found himself in if he had gotten Elsie's attention. He hesitated. Should he talk to the man? Remembering the stranger's dramatic exit the other day, Rey decided against it. Probably not a good idea to go sticking his own nose into the mess unless he wanted to get it broken.

(Dec 26) 16:41:12 [Elsie] The “lad” was across the street, moving through the thoroughfare at a relatively fast pace. Cap pulled down to obscure face which was laced with soot and dirt to hide further the more feminine features of her façade. Attired in an old suit that had seen far better days, moth eaten holes and pants that were at least an inch to short, the very impression was of a young teen of lower class. Papers in hand showed that the young male (to the given eye) was likely doing something of a delivery. It wasn’t uncommon for such frail-like figures to be seen running behind carriages, dodging traffic of common place London. The faster one ran and delivered their package, the sooner they could get a new fare. However, Elsie’s disguise had much more of a purpose. Indeed meeting with the underground network of various factions one couldn’t expect a Lady of Elsie’s known caliber to be consorting in public with folk that were of a lower class and seedier -
(Dec 26) 16:41:16 [Elsie] establishments. The woman was following up on leads from several nights earlier when the Vampire had attacked - based on her vision and having seen Edmond, whom she now knew to be the vigilante, had been experiencing some difficulty. However, her interest now lay in the murder that night. A female prostitute who’d been lasciviously struck across the throat three times in a violent act that was beyond anything of a Vampire. Indeed had Walter not arrived on the scene when he had - the murderer might have done so much more to the body, including the tearing of entrails which was by now, a known signature mark of one Jack the Ripper. Walter having been the only witness to the male had caught a glimpse of the man running away. But the man had, as far was Walter was convinced been supernatural, with the pale flesh of a vampire in that brief moment of notice. This in turn brought about the question if the Ripper, if indeed that -
(Dec 26) 16:41:28 [Elsie] had been who killed Frances Cole, then was the serial killer one of the undead. And if so? Why then did he brutalize his victims in such a manner, rather than simply draining them of blood.? The questions were mounting and while Walter’s description hadn’t given the man any indication of just who the Killer had been in terms of recognition a knowing sensation had been building in Elsie’s gut since that night. An unequivocal knowing that something far more sinister was at place, and something that Elsie was involved in, on some level. Thus her appearance this particular afternoon. In truth she wasn’t very far from the café where Reymund and Edmond sat, bustling by with papers in hand without much a care, it would seem. That was until the four massive carriage horses and cartouche came speeding by without much care for anyone in their way. “OI! BLOODY MOVE YOU TOSSER!“ The man’s voice echoed from the burly driver as Elsie darted to the left to avoid narrowly being hit! “Watch we’re yer going, you blighter!” --- close. Close indeed.

(Dec 26) 16:54:52 [Edmond] There was no visible upward glance as Edmond continued to sip and to smoke until his cigarette was about half-finished. He didn't know why he had taken up the habit, though he partook rarely. The doctors had said it was good for respiration, to help with congestion and coughing as well as to work to alleviate headache. The fact that it had made him cough violently the first few times he had taken the smoke into his lungs made him question the validity of this statement, but, Edmond was no doctor. Who was he to argue? Reaching out, he stamped the smolering paper into a recepticle designed for this, crushing out the burning end until no more smoke was billowing out. The sound of heavy wagon wheels over uneven streets had Edmond glancing up for a moment, the yelling voices so near causing him to shake his head ruefully. Here, in the City of London, people argued of convenience and right-of-way, threatening and yelling at each other. If they would just stand up and start banding together, the infestation of monstrous entities would decline exponentially and, perhaps, be completely eradicated. Edmond was no leader amongst men, though, nor was he any sort of eloquent speaker who would bring together an army to war with the monsters. He gave a hint of a wan smile at the events, shaking his head and letting out a bit of a chuckle. "Watch yerself," he said, perhaps loud enough to be heard, but not putting much strength behind it or caring if he actually was. "Driver might take 'is whip to your backside if you make one'f 'is horses go lame by letting it step on you." He shook his head and glanced up to see the thin man rising and gathering his stuff. Where the hell do I know him?" A resigned shrug. FInish coffee. It was nearly night. Nearly time to hunt.

(Dec 26) 17:09:26 [Reymund] Reymund watched the near-accident with a detached sense of dread, biting his lower lip and praying to a god he didn't believe in that the boy wouldn't end up a gory smear in the street. Wouldn't that be the perfect topper to an already spectacularly bad day? The Fates were kind and the youth seemed to be in one piece, if a little rattled by the experience. “Tch. Watch,” Rey murmured, apparently in reply to the stranger nearby. “Even if we were born with an extra pair of eyes on the back of our heads, we could still be run down in the streets with the way some of these coachmen control their animals.” There was the hint of an accent there, underneath all of that good English education. There were some things that even the cruelest of schoolmarms couldn't stamp out. Something glinted upon the lapel of the tall man's coat, gold and perhaps even more strikingly familiar than his height. A bright, polished W. The very same insignia found upon the card slipped into Edmond's pocket just a few nights prior.

(Dec 26) 17:12:37 [Elsie] The voice she recognized immediately. After all the man had practically threatened to kill her and her people by blowing up Primrose Garden. And certainly their previous altercations, though less violent would have her knowing just who that voice belonged to. A tumbled step was taken to distance herself from Edmond, though she acknowledged his words by raising her hand, clad in fingerless black wool gloves toward the peek of her hat which she nudged slightly. “If’n he knows what’s good for ’im, he’ll leave me arse alone.” She commented in that disguised voice, lowered a few octaves for good measure. However Edmond may recognize the small framed of figure from the night of the Vampire attack and murder. She was wearing the same suit. Then again, it had been relatively dark in the tunnel, especially after she’d shot out the gas lamp. “It’s brutes like ‘im that don’t deserve to drive them coaches. Poor ‘orses…” She muttered almost to herself. “Right Gov’nor, got places to go, people to see an’ all that.” Her eyes alighted Reymund who was more likely able to recognize her disguise and know why she was dressed as she was. She did hope the male wouldn’t give away her secret, with Edmond being present. She was still inwardly angry with the vigilante for how he had reacted the night at the Garden, not even giving her a chance to speak further about the Society and what it fully did. She had found his superior attitude grating, but she did note that the man on the whole looked quite haggard, if not out right exhausted. His late night activities which were still being watched were taking their toll. If he wasn’t careful he might have a full breakdown. Another nudge of hat, she began to walk away from the pair.

(Dec 26) 17:25:44 Edmond gave a lazy shake of his head, his face smearing itself with a smirk and his eyes traveling back and forth between the two. The symbol not so carefully hidden upon Reymund's lapel. A pin? The symbol nagged at the tired mind of the still seated Edmond, but he shrugged it away as he was shrugging away so much these days. The youth reminded him of the mouthy little shit that had been with him on one of his hunts that had been mostly successful, albeit only with the interference of outsiders, those few nights before. Shrugging it off, though, he let it pass. London was a large, populous city. There was almost no likelihood of the youth here and the one in that shadowed alley were the same being. "Well, if he doesn't watch, then he'll get crushed. They don't move so fast that one can't get out of the way, nor are they silent and anonymous on the street. Times change, dangers increase, and vigilance is needed," he mused, shaking his head and finally levering himself to his feet. He followed the progress of the youth for a moment before shrugging and moving away from his table and out into the street. "Poor horses," he muttered to himself, staggering slightly as he took the route opposite the youth. He needed to procure the rest of his weaponry and maybe have a brandy before he went out for the night. The war was never-ending and, though he was but a bit player, he knew, Edmond would take as many of the creatures out with him as he could possibly manage. It was then that Edmond's tired brain clicked. The pin. He fished in his pockets until he found the card he still carried, his eyes darting over the surface and mentally examining the brief mental snapshot he had taken of the one on Reymund's person. He let out a barely audible laugh and flicked the card aside, watching it land in a puddle toward the center of the roadway even as he shook his head, hunched his shoulders, and moved on to bigger and better things. Or perhaps a suicide mission. Would that really be such a bad thing?

(Dec 26) 17:40:13 Reymund grinned faintly at the “youth” when he spoke aloud. Ah, Madame Buchanan. Her disguise was getting better, but he could still tell. Thankfully the stranger didn't seem to notice the familiar curve of the young porter's lips or the knowing light in his eyes. As she darted off down the street, and Edmond stumped off in the opposite direction, Rey went over his options quickly. There was no doubt about it... that man was the one that had stormed out of Primrose just days ago, and now Madame Buchanan was sniffing around him again... in disguise, no less. The people upstairs must have been quite curious about this vigilante. When Edmond flicked something away into a puddle, the choice was clear. Reymund dropped change onto the saucer and went after the stranger, stopping to snatch the soggy card from the street as he went. It was a crowded street, in broad daylight... that meant the stranger wouldn't shoot him... right? “Excuse me.” When Edmond looked over his shoulder Rey would be standing there, about ten feet back, clearly unarmed save for the bit of card between the fore- and middle-fingers of his right hand. “You dropped this.” He would offer it to the stranger, careful to hang back. The last thing he wanted to do was crowd the gentleman. Reymund certainly didn't look like much of a threat, and he was banking on Edmond deciding that he didn't need to die just yet.

(Dec 26) 17:51:57 Edmond was moving away at a dejected, slow pace, his shoulders hunched and his body seeming to be pulled in upon itself so as to make him as small as possible. He was no giant to begin with, nor was he truly conscious of the act, but, at a glance, he looked almost as though he were a middle aged street person bent from years of unkindness. It wasn't a disguise, it was simply how the man felt at that particular point in time. The weight dragged heavily upon him and, unconsciously, he had allowed himself to begin to crumple beneath the press. Excuse me... you dropped this. Came the call from behind. Edmond had been lost in his thoughts, but his reflexes and focus had been trained by necessity to be attuned to his surroundings, so he had been aware, though only vaguely in some part of his lizard brain, that he was being followed as soon as he walked away from the cafe. A sigh escaped as Edmond turned, his hand trailing to the sweat-cured leather pommel of his saber even as he, with a wince of pain at his damaged fingers, choked up on his shillelagh which was ostensibly being used as a cane. He looked at the card and offered a quick smile, though there was no humor behind it. It was a gesture more by rote than by plan or any form of humor. "No," he said with a shake of his head. "I threw it away. Keep it." Edmond made as if to turn but paused, his hand slipping away from his saber and his lips pursing in a near frown before pulling up into a mechanical smile that reflected no emotion whatsoever. "You were there," he began, bare hand coming up to stroke at his stubble-lined chin. "In the house. With the Lady Buchanan." These were statements of revelation rather than questions, rhetorical or otherwise, and he tossed the slightest amount of a shrug into the mix. "There a reason you are following me? There is not the slightest chance that it was simply in a hurried attempt to return that to me," Edmond finished, gesturing vaguely in the direction
(Dec 26) 17:52:14 [Edmond] of Reymund's hand and the card he had proffered and, as of yet, had been refused.

(Dec 26) 18:08:49 [Reymund] The man hadn't shot or stabbed him... a success, then. That was a relief. When Edmond refused the card, he simply tucked it into his coat and out of sight. A faint smile lifted the corner of his mouth at the dawning look of recognition spreading across the stranger's face. “I was,” he replied, nodding. “I was coming down the stairs when you made your exit. I'm surprised you remember seeing me at all. Good eyes.” As though lamenting his own piss-poor eyesight, he adjusted his glasses and stood up a bit straighter. As for why he had followed the man? “I was curious. Clearly you had a lot on your mind when you left the other day. And... no offense meant, I assure you... you look a bit worse for wear, ja?” He didn't come any closer, keenly aware that the wrong wording or approach could spell disaster. Edmond had already made it abundantly clear that he did not like being cornered. In fact, he held his hands up loosely in front of him, palms out. No surprises here. They were on neutral ground and Reymund intended to keep it that way. He glanced across the street and spotted a busy pub. He tossed his head casually in that direction, and crossed the lane. If Edmond wanted to talk, he would have to keep up.

(Dec 26) 18:21:18 Edmond straightened himself and stood to his full height, a few inches shorter than the man who likely towered over anyone he met with very few exceptions. Taking a slow, careful breath, he nodded once and fell into step with the other man, curious more than anything and, at the moment, willing to attempt civility though his brain muddled through the processes as though it were such a difficult concept that it was nearly impossible to maintain. "I am tired, is all," Edmond replied after a long pause, stretching the truth just a bit as his body felt like a giant bruise over a full-body muscle kink. His back felt as if he had rhythmically beat it against a tree using a giant humanoid hand and his body as the bat. "But I'm better off than many," he said, glancing around a bit to emphasize the dejected crowd milling about. People walked with their heads down and their bodies more hunched than his as they went about their last minute tasks before dark. People tended to stay indoors at night, these days, and Edmond was well aware of this. It was the Ripper thing, and a pall over the street that pressed oppressively on the minds and spirits of those who chose to leave the safety and protection of their homes. "What do you want," he asked bluntly, but only after they had stepped inside and Edmond had slid his fedora from his head and stacked it upon the rack for just this purpose just inside the door. He eschewed leaning his shillelagh in the umbrella rack but, rather, leaned slightly upon it as he made his way to a seat and moved laborously into it. He was moving gingerly and slowly, but it was obvious that his whole body was tense and that, at any moment, he would burst into action given the slightest provocation.

Dec 26) 18:39:47 [Reymund] The pub was a bustling, cozy little place with a smiling barman and several friendly barmaids eager to keep their patrons happy and sated with whatever libations they desired. Anything but the rot-water from the Thames, anyway. Reymund slid out of his coat and into one of the booths, pausing to work a stubborn crick out of his spine in the process. Without outerwear, Edmond would see that despite his height, Rey was very slight, bordering on skinny. There were no bulges beneath his clothing to indicate that he was hiding any weapons. Once Edmond had joined him at the table and a maid had been by for his order (lager, cold, if you please) he met the other man's tired eyes and nodded. “I just want to talk, truthfully. Madame Buchanan invited you in for tea and biscuits, and in giving her introduction speech managed to nearly get the building blown up in the process. Her approach is a bit formal. It sets some people off... myself included. I'm Reymund, by the way. Sanders.” A weak grin at that, followed by a hasty, apologetic look. He seemed to understand exactly why the stranger had reacted the way he had. “I work for her organization, obviously. Nowhere near as important as Madame Buchanan. I am more of a cog in the machine than an engineer, if you follow.” Reymund kept quiet when the barmaid returned, drinks in tow. Once she was well out of earshot he continued: “I'm not going to ask you for your help, or to take any oaths or make any promises. It doesn't matter to me if you help the Society or not. But if you need assistance – and it seems as though you may – I want to offer it.”

(Dec 26) 18:54:05 Edmond sat erect through a sheer force of will, his body ramrod straight and his limbs tight. He carried himself as if he had military experience, but, in truth, he had had none. He had simply lived in a world where proper posture was enforced with a cane and a book and it was nearly habitual to always sit as straight as possible. Luckily, the chair back allowed him a modicum of support in this endeavor. "The place was not even close to being blown up," Edmond said, the faintest trace of a real smile on his face for the first time in many days. "I do not like being played for the fool, and your Lady Buchanan, at the risk of saying anything untoward, seeks to treat with me as if I were. I am not so far beneath her station that she cannot speak to me openly," he shook his head and cleared some of the cobwebs, having not ordered a drink after all. The alcohol would likely put him to sleep and slow his reflexes further. Edmond coughed a few times, covering his mouth with his left hand which maintained a glove upon it in an attempt to hide the splints upon three of his fingers from a vampire-thrown rock. "And I do not require assistance unless it is to tell me where the next target is hiding out," Edmond said confidently. He had lived his life with an ear to the streets, bartering information and maintaining a view of the politics of the gangs and crews and loosely organized groups of friends, all for the sake of entertainment and, ostensibly, research on human behavior. Not knowing about this society Lady Buchanan belonged to, and not knowing about the vampire scourge until a year before, was something that bugged him to no end. But, because of the subterfuge, he further had not a lick of trust for the woman, nor the man who sat opposite him talking away. He certainly wouldn't place his life in their hands, which is essentially what he'd do if he accepted a single order from-c-
(Dec 26) 18:54:36 [Edmond] anyone in their organization and, likewise, if he began relying upon them for any sort of assistance.

(Dec 26) 19:08:22 Reymund snickered into his beer at Edmond's quip about the bomb. He liked this man, believe it or not. It was commendable to be able to have a sense of humor at all given the circumstances. “That is the difference between she and I. While I am sure that Madame Buchanan did not intend to corner you, that was the impression that was left.” Rey shrugged one shoulder and met the man's gaze once again with his own icy blue eyes. “You aren't the kind of man who makes deals over teacakes, and I respect that. So here we are in a public place, surrounded by people, and I am unarmed. Give me an hour or two and I will likely be drunk as well.” Despite the joke, his eyes narrowed with concern at those hacking coughs and the stiff, uncomfortable bearing with which Edmond continued to carry himself. He looked like a cow-pat warmed over. Certainly not pitiable, but in need of some help regardless of what he had said. “Your target,” he said, flicking a bit of foam from the top of the glass in front of him. “A leech, ja? Pardon. A vampire. I know where many of the local nests are. I have raided several personally.”

(Dec 26) 19:15:37 Edmond scoffed out loud and shook his head slowly, looking with incredulity at the thin man. "Now you are playing games," Edmond said, placing both hands upon the table and levering himself upward. "I have things to do tonight. If you do not have a target directly, then I will find it on my own. Night is not far enough away to warrant dalliance over drinks and I still need to retrieve my toys." With that, Edmond gave a slight mocking bow in the direction of the slender gentleman, and turned to move to the door where he retrieved his fedora and placed it on his head. "Wonderful to meet you," he said without a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "I hope you have fun with your intoxication." Yeah, this skinny little guy raiding nests of vampires? Unlikely. Highly unlikely. He couldn't handle himself against a stiff breeze, let alone with a monstrous creature whose only desire was to drain the sweet nectar of the human who stood before them.
(Dec 26) 19:22:44 Edmond is going to stretch for a few minutes then make some action happen.

(Dec 26) 19:27:19 Reymund had thought he might not believe him. He paused with the glass halfway to his lips when Edmond stood up. “Two streets from here,” he said sharply, as the other man was putting on his jacket and hat. “An abandoned storefront. It was a bakery at one time. You might know it, actually.” If Edmond let him finish, he would meet the other man's eyes with a look that hid nothing... he was deadly serious, now that they had gotten to the meat of the conversation. “In the cellar. Newly-turned vampires – fledglings – they tend to come together to sleep during the day... rather like rats, actually.” He set his drink down without taking another sip, as though the discussion had left a sour taste in his mouth. “There were four of them roosting there at last count. Our men were planning on raiding it two days from now, but the leeches there could be worth more to you alive, if you are looking for a specific target. It isn't terribly difficult to make them talk.” Reymund would leave it at that. If the hunter wanted to walk away, he wasn't going to chase him. But if he decided to start taking Reymund seriously, well, there he was.

(Dec 26) 19:56:19 Edmond stopped at the door, holding his hat in his hand and twirling it momentarily between the fingers of his strong hand. His eyes tracked back to the man who had given him the lead on this den of "fledglings" that they might be killed quickly and efficiently. "Okay, we are getting toward the right path," Edmond said calmly, glancing around at the patronage for a moment before moving to the bar. He pulled out a few large-denomination coins and dropped them onto the counter as he indicated a pair of clear bottles that, were one not appraised of the fact that they were in an establishment selling mostly alcohol, they would be tempted to say that it was water contained within the clear glass containers. "I want both, keep the change," he said to the barkeep, gesturing at the coins which were of a quantity to denote at least thrice the going rate for the pair of bottles together. The barkeep was incredulous, at first, but, licking his lips for a moment at the coins upon the counter, he could not convince himself to pass up such a great deal. Edmond didn't know if he was an employee, or the owner, but, at either rate, the extra sum that would enter his purse would be a nice addition, to be sure. Finally, the man strode over and set the booze in front of Edmond, who quickly grabbed both and slid them into the oversized inside pockets of his trench coat.
(Dec 26) 19:56:40 [Edmond] "You are coming with me," he said to the bespectacled man as he rejoined him at the table, not bothering to sit. "I want to trust you, but neither one of us can afford that right now. Get up," Edmond said, turning his back to the gangly creature and heading through the door. It wasn't a command that Edmond truly expected to be followed, but it was a clear line drawn in the sand. Reymund was either with him or against him, and this was the test of his willingness to actually help. Besides, Edmond would prefer greatly that someone point out the exact building that no mistakes could be made. The shadows were growing long, but it was a good hour before sunset yet and, in Edmond's opinion, were this a nest, now would be the best time to watch the pathetic creatures die. No, there was not a slight chance that he would capture and question the monsters. Why would he do that? That would be affording them the rights and privledges of humanity which, as far as the angry and exhausted man was concerned, was given up the moment they had been infected. OR made. Or born. Whatever it was that happened to the damned things to make them all brutal and bitey-neckey.
(Dec 26) 19:57:03 Edmond thinks there might be more interesting things to lick in the general viscinity of this salt lamp.

(Dec 26) 20:10:30 [Elsie] posting in! Though it doesn't affect either of you yet etc. ))
(Dec 26) 20:10:54 [Elsie] The young lad, notably known in such lurid and seedy locations as “Pip” was a step of the pair of gentlemen who were ready to leave the establishment. Indeed, Elsie knew of this potential nest obviously through her connections but rather than wait for the raid, she had to solve a rather large problem that was giving her an incredibly difficult time. If what she suspected was truth it would ruin her on the whole but that festering knowledge of perceptible foresight had unleashed a small hole in her, which was taking a rather tight grip. If her secret was discovered by the Society, no matter was as per Lineage would have little in terms of safety. She’d be absconded from Society on the whole, locked away with the key missing. Despite her powers, the Witch had every desire to solve this issue before anyone found out. Thus, she was well on her way to the old bakery in order to not only hunt this nest of vipers, but to get them to talk. It would not be asy considering she was alone but this was something she -had- to do by herself. She could trust no one as the implications would be terrible for all. The setting sun still had some distance to travel though the fog of the Thames and it’s usual eeriness was creeping up over the land as was typical standards of London. She moved with stealth that warranted the easy guise of a pick-pocket and slipped into the abandoned building with no trouble. Within the latent smell of mould, putrid stench of death rocketed her olfactory senses but it wasn’t anything she’d never smelled before. Upon her person were several weapons, including stakes for striking the heart but also a set of potions which were laced against her body under the jacket she wore. Such potions would be useful for the torture of one of the creatures, used many times before. Meandering further within, she stuck to the shadows - careful not to step on any broken glass that littered the ground, the occasional drip of water from old overhead pipes the only sound heard within the location on -
(Dec 26) 20:11:29 [Elsie] on the whole. The Hunt was on.
(Dec 26) 20:11:43 [Elsie] a step ahead*

(Dec 26) 20:18:15 [Reymund] He hadn't expected that. Rey's stony expression faltered for an instant when he was ordered up and out of the pub. “Ah...” He looked over his shoulder as he pulled his coat back on, as though searching for some kind of escape. No such luck. “Well...” Too late. Edmond was heading straight out the door. This was not how he'd expected to spend his evening. The hunter would hear hasty footsteps behind him as the scientist caught up, looking a bit harried now that they were walking side-by-side. He glanced nervously upward, at the sliver of moon that shone through the thick London smog in that ruddy early evening sky. They were standing in front of the dilapidated former bakery within minutes. The display window, once beckoning passers-by with piles of fresh loaves, rolls, and cakes, had long-since been shattered. A wooden sign that had faded to illegible chicken-scratch was hanging crooked upon one rusted hook. Reymund looked at the building with a blank expression. “Well, here it is. The leeches use the cellar door around the back. If you can manage to sneak inside and get down there through the door in the kitchen, you might be able to catch them by surprise.” You, he had said... not we. He was unarmed, after all... and while the Lieutenant might turn a blind eye to Reymund's rather unconventional way of dealing with leeches, he was not keen on relying on that particular parlor trick when out on a hunt with a heavily armed (and rather cranky) stranger.

(Dec 26) 20:39:37 [Edmond] The walk was brisk and Edmond seemed like he was ready to break into a sprint at any moment. Each step of his comfortable boots echoed upon the sidewalk, impacting heavily as he maintained pace with the thin man. "Good to know," Edmond said as they moved around the building. "Thank you," he said, and it sounded as if he meant it and it was a bit more than just a common courtesy. Pulling his trench off, Edmond laid it upon the ground before pulling off his button-up, somewhat lacy shirt, leaving him standing there shirtless. His body was well formed, albeit not the sculpted body of vanity. Each muscle was a careful interplay where even the slightest movement seemed to ripple throughout the entire network throughout his body, minimizing the power required for each individual muscle and yet exponentially increasing the strength and dexterity of a moment by using so many auxiliary movers. Another object of note would be the fact that his entire back looked as if it were a single giant bruise that wrapped around to each side. Upon his stomach and chest, he carried marks of varying size and having been inflicted at various times within the past month or so. Some of the bruises were the fresh purple-black of recent contact, while others were the green-yellow of nearly healed spots. It left him looking mottled and unhealthy, as though his body were about to fall apart at any moment.
(Dec 26) 20:39:53 [Edmond] On his right wrist was a custom wrist pistol, double barrel and with a metal hook that hung down to his mid palm, able to be manipulated with a deft twist of his fingers and thus firing the weapon. With a grunt, Edmond knelt and ripped strips from his shirt, destroying the expensive garment without a second thought. With a precise economy of movement, he dumped the alcohol on each strip torn from the shirt before shoving it into the neck of the now uncorked bottles. He stood, leaving the bottles upon the ground and wrapped the white shirt about the lower half of his face, before picking up the bottles and tucking them each carefully beneath his left arm, pinched hard against his side. "Stay behind if you want, but I would think your safest bet would be to enter with me. Once things become confusing, anything that moves dies," he said, uncaring and callous in the statement. WIthout further delay, he stepped forward and threw his right leg out in a massive front kick that sent the front door rocking on its hinges, pushing it against the natural swing with the mighty strike. (Pass)
(Dec 26) 20:40:14 [Edmond] A stepping inside, Edmond lit a match upon the wall and held the flaming end to the cloth of the first bottle, carrying it in his right hand gingerly and heading deeper inside. Using the flame itself as a torch, he soon located the kitchen, and the cellar door. Edmond paused for a moment, listened, and, not hearing anything, he pulled the door open. Three steps down and in, he held the firey brand of one cloth against the alcohol soaked cloth on the other bottle, before unloading a massive throw that sent the bottle careening through the darkness to explode against a wall, covering everything in raging yellow flame in a roar of sudden air displacement. Feeling the heat against his face, Edmond threw the other bottle farther to the left and in the corner but only after soaking the wooden steps beneath him and lighting them as well. The fire raging behind him, Edmond backed up to the door separating kitchen from the front of the shop, wishing he had his gun upon him at the moment, or his crossbow. The beasties would burn alive down there, most likely with their only avenue of escape as part of a massive conflageration. If they did make it up, he would bash them on the head and shove them back in. Bye bye nestie. Hopefully.
(Dec 26) 20:41:07 [Edmond] Sorry, a lot of actions in one post, but I got into the scene : /

(Dec 26) 21:03:10 [Elsie] Adorning her body under her attire was a ward of her own blood that, though hidden would serve as protection against the Vampires should they awaken suddenly - magic had it’s place and time, and Elsie’s lineage was more than enough to keep her safe to some degree which was why she was out in the filed as an Agent rather than always staying within the Gardens in a more administrative capacity. Moving toward the doorway of cellar she set her sights on the old worn stairs and as such to maintain her balance, an arm was outstretched toward the wall so not to fall through the decrepit rotten wood. Though wrapped in fingerless gloves she felt the dampness seep through the old mortar of brick, though as she took her first step down, a sudden flash yet familiar stabbing pain burst in her mind causing her to gasp. (Pass) The building on whole was on fire. Flames riding high to leave little in it’s wake. The vision was blindingly real to the point she -
(Dec 26) 21:03:13 [Elsie] felt heat upon flesh and that sense of doom was replaced with a strike of fear. She was unaware that Edmond or Rey were arriving on the scene or what any of them planned for but the insight in her vision was enough to let her know this building was in trouble and likely soon. As she struggled to maintain her balance and not fall down the stairs on the whole, the vision passed leaving her with a time constraint. Having arrived ahead of both Gentlemen, it gave her enough of an opportunity to still venture down below with her task at hand. Though she needed to capture just one of the nasty critters in hopes of getting them to talk. Time being as it was, she couldn’t spend any of it wading around and thus as sleeping shadows came into minds eye she grabbed one of the potions from her body. The prone vampire was in a torpor as the potion itself was poured into it’s mouth - which would leave it at her mercy for a manner of seconds, a serum not dissimilar from one of truth it was also one that would give her the opportunity to find out more. The hiss was what alerted her to the serum working as she stood back only now purveying the scene. The Society had greatly miscalculated the size of the Nest. It was not just four of five but from a quick scan there was approximately Twenty in total! Elsie knew even with her ward and magic that she alone couldn’t face twenty. It would be suicidal to even try! “DAMN!” She uttered as the one Vampire she’d specifically awakened inched toward her. “STOP!” She commanded, eyes landing on the undead who did as she requested. The puppet was one to dance to her strings as she spoke the “Devil’s Tongue” - the -
(Dec 26) 21:03:30 [Elsie] darkest language of the blackest magic. The creature paused, eyes reddened, fangs exposed but it did not attack Elsie. However the sudden bang of the door crashed through the space on the whole. SOMEONE was here, and in that moment she knew the fire.. That flames were coming. There’d be no time to continue her spell. There would be no time to question any of these critters and in fact barely any time to get out. The thud of footsteps down the same stairs she’d had her vision upon alighted her to further company though she stepped back into the shadows just as the first fire bomb was hurled. She needed to make it out of the cellar and back to the stairs, given that it had the only one exit. Dodging as best she could, the fire had readily alerted the other Vampires to the current state of affairs creating a havoc that Elsie knew she couldn’t deal with alone. Whoever had started the fire was in for some serious trouble as the female, dressed as a lad ran toward stairs. “HELP!” she called out - not in the least disguising her voice as she ran up the stairs, though the worn wood and a rush of undead were circling in upon her - all with the idea to get to the stairs - to escape the fire. As part of the floor above collapsed on to the cellar, five would be crushed immediately by the falling beams, but Elsie was still struggling to make it to the stairs. Her wards protected her from Evil.


(Dec 26) 21:31:41 Reymund was hanging back a bit, trying to figure out the best way to safely extricate himself from this situation, when all of a sudden Edmond started stripping down and starting fires. He'd have to give it to the man... he didn't dawdle, and he was definitely no stranger to action, judging by the ugly rainbow of bruises that decorated his skin. Reymund winced. The man was going to get himself killed, and what good would that do? Worse... if he left now, it would be mostly his fault if Edmond died. Didn't he give this maniac the inspiration for this apparent suicide mission? He took in another deep whiff of their surroundings, hoping to gauge exactly what was lurking in the cellar (FAIL). Leeches, yes... but he couldn't tell how many. Could be one... could be one hundred.
(Dec 26) 21:31:53 [Reymund] “All right. I'm coming too,” he said, already out of his coat and rolling up his sleeves to the elbow. A quick inventory of his doctor's kit revealed a few items of interest; three small glass phials of garlic and capsaicin solution, a single flash-bomb, and one lonely quick-injector of Lupercalia 19. Reymund swallowed his bad nerves with a gulp and prayed that Edmond wasn't carrying silver. But there was no time to find out or even offer an explanation of his conundrum, as Edmond had already kicked in the door and ventured inside. The place positively reeked of vampires, strong enough to bring tears to his eyes. While they might not see him as a potential food source, no leech would turn down the chance to rip apart the Society's lone wolf.
(Dec 26) 21:32:05 [Reymund] Flames had begun to lick up the walls of the abandoned bakery, and a cacophony of hisses and snarls could be heard down in the nest below as it's occupants began to awaken. Reymund watched in horror as Edmond vanished down the rickety staircase into the firestorm. He gritted his teeth. He would not let that idiot get blood on his hands. Not tonight.
(Dec 26) 21:32:20 [Reymund] Needle pierced flesh and the plunger was pushed. Rey hissed a curse as the chemical and pheromone concoction rushed into his bloodstream like liquid fire, scorching his veins and making his heart pump even faster than before. After the first flash of pain faded, Reymund found an odd comfort in the familiar sensation. Edmond might hear the unnatural sounds of the Change that his unlikely companion was undergoing in the empty kitchen above... Elsie too, if she weren't so distracted by important things like vampires and firestorms. Thankfully a year of practice had made Reymund something of an expert when it came to the transformation. The full moon came once a month whether he liked it or not, and if one was cursed to walk the earth as a 500lbs werewolf, one had best learn to enjoy it.
(Dec 26) 21:32:38 [Reymund] ”Please don't shoot me. I'll be coming down the stairs behind you.” The voice that piped into Edmond's mind seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. It was unmistakably Reymund, with that same faint accent and flat tone. ”I'm rather a lot bigger and furrier than before. Please. Trust me.” The wolf didn't make it to the door. The beams that had fallen down atop the some of the sleeping vampires below had weakened the floor considerably, and Reymund's sudden weight gain was too much for them to bear (FAIL). Instead of barreling down the staircase to help Edmond, Rey found himself crashing through the floorboards and landing in a large, hairy black heap in the middle of the smoldering cellar.

(Dec 26) 21:50:28 [Edmond] The world was quickly becoming confusing. Minus his revolver, Edmond was left with his saber and his Shillelagh, both of which he was quite proficient with in a quick hack and slash fight. He couldn't duel someone face to face and score technical points, no, nor was he great at that whole 'blocking' thing, but he usually held his own. The fact that he didn't have his gun was still slightly troubling, but he was almost positive he could just whack or slash anything that tried to poke its head up the stairs as the fire burned. HELP! The cry echoed even over the roar of the flame and Edmond immediately felt a pang of guilt. Were vampires that smart? He didn't know, he had never tried to take the time to talk to one. Had they brought down a snack for later? That didn't seem right, they would probably eat it on the spot and come out later for more. Why bring in food to go? Then what? Another hunter? Gritting his teeth, Edmond decided that the person was just out of luck, wrong place and wrong time. He didn't go out of his way to kill bystanders, but, if they got in the way, it was their problem. The threat of one vampire was more important than the safety of 10 innocents because, over the course of its life, the vampire would consume exponentially more than 10 people. And where did that leave them with the whole existential question of soul? These thoughts and more went rapid fire through Edmond's head, even as he did the exact opposite of what his instinct told him: He began to descend the stairs. It wasn't as if he recognized the voice (Fail) but hell, the vamps would probably die in the flame anyway and HIS life, unlike the vampires, was worth the saving of one human as collateral.
(Dec 26) 21:50:48 [Edmond] He heard Reymund talking behind him and other strange sounds that he couldn't quite register, nor did he think overly much about. Bigger and furrier? Wait... it is talking in my head? Given any other time ever in his life, Edmond would have stopped entirely and tried to figure out what the hell was going on. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, though, and Edmond moved forward, his intent incongruous to his usual attitude, to save the bystander. (Pass) He heard the huge shape moving upstairs, but then the the echoed crash of the huge figure crashing through the floor sent Edmond moving forward though. He looked at the wall of flame before him, the shirt over his face doing only a paltry job of filtering out the smoke billowing up the stairs. Breathing was already becoming labored, but he took three running steps down the stairs, praying silently to whatever god or demon might be listening that he didn't trip, and he launched himself out into space. Or, more properly, into the fiery pits of hell. He could see the shapes moving in the flickering shadows as the flew, arms and legs kicking and pinwheeling as though to cause him flight, to land heavily upon the floor, standing and unharmed. (Pass)
(Dec 26) 21:51:05 [Edmond] Standing and staring around frantically, the coughing Edmond called out to the world around him. "Where are you? And what is your situation?" He stared around rapidly, turning just in time to see 4 figures, enraged by the flames and sudden fear and thus lending strength to their ferocity and tendency to strike at anything that moved. Congruencies with situation aside, Edmond wielded his Shillelagh wildly in his hand , swinging at the heads of the rapidly moving creatures and doing everything he could to stay out of the flame and, more impoortantly, out of the grasp of those dangerous hands.

(Dec 26) 22:18:07 [Elsie] The fact that the building was burning - the irony of it was not lost upon her considering how some of her ancestors were unfairly treated within the ranks of history. The scarf around her neck was pulled up to cover her lower face in an attempt to stop the smoke but her instincts were key in how she was going to escape. At the same time, the horde of Vampires were pushing and pulling - obviously far stronger than the small ‘lad’ despite her ability to fight and the necessary training she’d had in the past. This was far from a normal situation however for the bloodsuckers were fighting for their unlife while she was fighting for her own. The fact that the ceiling collapsed further was an additional problem - wooden beams and other items fell around her but she narrowly missed getting landed on by the massive beast that had entered the fray. Having no idea this beast was Reymund and due to smoke and such in the given area she couldn’t truly see just what the creature was. Regardless, the shape had landed with such a heavy thud it was further more encouraging her to get the hell out of there. But where!? It was nigh impossible to see clearly, smoke stinging her eyes, along with heat of the flames. Her sense of direction was off though the masculine voice as it peeled through the heat gave her an indicator. Given Edmond’s face was muffled - she didn’t recognize the voice first at all. “Keep talking.. I’m co..” She coughed, breaking up her words, her voice slowly becoming a croak. “..Coming your way! “ She spoke guided toward his location though just as she near reached his figure that was slowly taking shape despite her watering, several vampires leapt forward sensing the stairs and the air coming from up above. Their action knocked her to her knees, palms flat upon the ground right into the flames as she felt her flesh start to burn. Always one to maintain a keen sense and calmer head, this unfortunately was not the case today. Pushed her further into despair - and more so panic by the scene on the whole she -
(Dec 26) 22:18:20 [Elsie] she was slowly giving up. The vampires that had pushed her down were burning wildly, the scent of cooked flesh filled the air along with their own harsh wails - while Elsie let out a sharp cry of pain from the burning arm. “Go.. Go get out of here!” She told Edmond. It might be too late for her - but perhaps the man, her would be rescuer could get out safely. “GO NOW! “ In that final moment, recognition dawned. A moment of clarity. Edmond. The was only one hunter would she knew would have acted in such a fashion to burn down the building. It was not a Society hunter. Was it Edmond who’d appeared at the nest? Had that really been Reymund’s voice who’d called out? Had Edmond set the fire, not realizing just how many vampires there were! -- Cough “Now.. Get.. Out…Edmond.. Reymund.. GO. Now! ”

(Dec 26) 22:54:13 [Reymund] Fire. Fire and death. Had he fallen straight through to Hell? Reymund opened his eyes and looked blearily around the burning cellar. Flames had stretched straight up to the ceiling and were beginning to lick up into the bakery itself now that the floor had been opened and fresh air was flowing in. The massive wolf pulled himself to his paws and shook himself out, knocking sparks and embers from his shaggy black pelt.
(Dec 26) 22:54:24 [Reymund] “The Köter! The Köter is here!“ The remaining vampires took up the cry. The blue-eyed werewolf had a bit of a reputation, apparently... enough to earn him a nickname. Perhaps if their lair hadn't been so thoroughly on fire they might have leaped upon the beast to rip it apart. Luckily, the bloody walls were likely to come down at any moment. Only one of the leeches was brave (or stupid) enough to attack. It threw itself at Rey's side with it's claws and fangs bared. The wolf failed to see it coming in time and took the hit. (Fail) The leech was clinging to the wolf's left shoulder, holding on for dear life as Reymund tried to dislodge it. There would be no mistaking the huge lupine shape now, swatting vampires away with forepaws as big as dustbin lids and lungs pumping like bellows.
(Dec 26) 22:54:42 [Reymund] A familiar scent wafted through the smoke. Reymund gasped. Elsie Buchanan. She was here. Her voice left no doubt. And stranger still... she had called him by name. How did she...? Wavering, vaguely human shapes danced beyond the tangled pile of smoldering beams that separated him from Elsie and Edmond. He finally pulled the vampire off of the bloody ruin of his shoulder, held it down with one paw, and sank his teeth deep into it's brittle ribcage. Elsie and Edmond would see the massive wolf shaking the squealing vampire like a dog with a rope. The leech had stopped moving long before he dropped it.
(Dec 26) 22:54:53 [Reymund] If they shot him now... well... he had lived a good life. Death at the end of a hunter's gun was certainly a brighter prospect than spending the rest of his days locked up in a Walpurgis asylum... which would be his fate as soon as Madame Buchanan saw him for what he was. The beast limped toward the pair, head lowered and pointed ears limp. A low, pained whine quavered in his throat. ”Madame Buchanan...?” came the voice again. ”Get on my back. I can get you out...”


(Dec 26) 23:24:13 [Elsie] If Elsie was shocked at the.. shocking transformation of Reymund it certainly wasn’t the time to reveal it as her arm was burned quite badly, the material of her outfit stuck to the flesh and pain. Indeed she was somewhat delirious if not falling into shock from the pain, the discourse of the situation on the whole and the stench of death all around her. She could barely discern anything visibly, the smoke and water hindering her eyes and the familiar voices might all be in her mind, some sort of trance or disillusioned state of mind from the gripping pain tearing through her limb. “Re…” --cough.. COUGH…”Reymund…?” She questioned again though remained on the ground for the moment. It wasn’t possible - the large figure - the big black… was that a wolf? No - It didn’t make any sense and all rational thought was out the window. (Fail) Whatever it was that was there was speaking in the Scientist’s familiar voice and was offering her help. If this was her dying moment, then let it be someone she knew guide her to a light she was not deserving of. Vestibules of thought flickered through her mind as she felt consciousness slowly waning, slipping into a void of delirium from shock and pain. Of seeing Monsters - who were friends, of being nothing more than a monster herself. What she had done was unforgivable. What she had failed to do, was nothing short of treachery at it’s greatest level and if this be her dying moment, then let those secrets die with her. With a concerted effort she tried to rise, to give one last moment to follow that large shape, the creature with kindness it it’s voice. Her body moved far slower than she willed it while all the round the flames continued to burn with a vicious roar. The building on the whole would not last much -
(Dec 26) 23:24:16 [Elsie] longer. “The.. Other..” she managed to croak, in reference to Edmond, if that who it was within the building. With a final surge of adrenalin she reached forward with her good arm and while the hand itself had flesh peeling, she grasped fur and held on for as much as she could, tugging herself up with a concerted effort before slipping into blackness. A void.. Somewhere along the way she’d lost her cap, her hair once tied and held back previously hidden underneath now hung in raven waves, the tips of some scorched by falling embers. There was only delirium, confusion and the monster within herself that she battled with constantly as all else seemed to fade away with the loss of consciousness, her left to the mercy of a man who despised all she stood for and a wolf, it would seem.

(Dec 26) 23:47:50 [Reymund] He had never been so happy to have someone pull his fur. Rey gently nudged Elsie forward until her legs eventually gave out underneath her and she buckled back down to the sooty floor. The wolf carefully nipped at the back of her heavy coat, caught the layers of wool in his teeth and began to drag her toward the stairs. If Edmond hadn't dashed upstairs ahead of them, he would see the beast carefully picking his backwards way through the flames on all fours, pulling Madame Buchanan with him. Hopefully he would understand that the wolf was helping and not dragging her off to devour her while she was still sizzling from the grill.
(Dec 26) 23:47:59 [Reymund] You, Hunter! Reymund almost seemed to shout into Edmond's mind, and the man would see the enormous wolf staring at him with a pair of extremely familiar icy blue eyes. Lean against me if you need to. Don't touch my shoulder. The vampire had done a lovely number on him and the area was a mass of blood and matted black fur. The stairs creaked beneath him, but by some miracle they didn't buckle and collapse... and they were out of the cellar. The former bakery had gone up in a blaze, but at least he could see the street now, through that broken-out display window. The clanging bells of the fire brigade were drawing nearer. Rey didn't have much time.
(Dec 26) 23:48:08 [Reymund] Finally... finally... the wolf emerged from the shattered back door and pulled Madame Buchanan out into the alley. He was panting hard, pink tongue the size of a large salami hanging down between those wickedly curved bottom fangs. They were out. She was still breathing. Would she turn him in? Would she even remember? God only knew. He stretched out on the cool cobblestones with his muzzle resting on his forepaws, watching the two humans and wondering whether or not he would be spending tonight in his bed at the manor, or in a cell beneath Rowan Garden.

(Dec 27) 00:02:40 [Edmond] As soon as he saw that the girl was okay, (at least he thought it had been a female voice he had heard, a naggingly familiar one) Edmond thought to run ahead and take a kind of point position and lead the procession past the vamps. This wasn't to be, though, as he started to move forward, he took an involuntary deep breath, sending him into a wave of coughing, dizziness, and near unconsciousness. Eyes watering and mind scrambled, he held his position, hands on his knees for a moment, attempting to compuse himself. Grab the mammoth. It is not an enemy. Most likely. He registered that it would be preferred to keep his weight away from the beast's shoulder, his mind accepting the message readily enough but his weakened body rejecting it out of hand. Falling more than anything, Edmond reached out his hand and caught ahold of the wolf just behind the wounded shoulder(fail) likely pulling painfully at it. Using his iron grip on the fur, he dragged himself up. It was a last second realization and a slight disappointment when he realized he had to drop his shillelagh. Oh well. He'd find another one. Another club given to him by a Pikey who had won it in a bet somewhere? Yeah, that was unlikely. He could probably find one floating around, though.
(Dec 27) 00:03:01 [Edmond] The drop of the club came, the wooden instrument clattering to the floor with some sort of ominous finality that echoed over the flames, at least in Edmond's head. He growled low in his chest, screaming at his pained body and regretting it instantly as he began to have another coughing fit. He dragged himself up and got both hands dug in deeply to the monster's course fur, his feet moving on the ground as they made some token effort of propulsion though it was really more that he kept his feet plodding so the creature was only pulling a constantly moving podium instead of dead weight. Fighting to keep consciousness, Edmond went into a strange, trance like state and he knew, without a doubt, that he would never make it out of this place alive. He gritted his teeth and held on for dear life, though, quite literally, and knew it wouldn't come without at least his utmost effort.

(Dec 27) 00:12:09 [Elsie] It wasn’t luck that had the Society with fingers in many pies, including the Fire Brigade, as well as the St. James Street Runners, and recently formed Police. The building was a known nest to be dealt with in two days, so as word of the massive fire taking place in the ole’ bakery beyond Maple and Church Street, the Walpurgis were on hand as soon as they could be. Indeed a cover up might well be required, the fire itself blamed on local gangs and street kids causing trouble as was given to the area, all things considering. Water pumped at the building would hopefully soon have the burning nest under control and those within the Society, when given the opportunity eventually would enter within to ensure all the vermin had been taken care of. It was, then, perhaps fortuitous that as the Purgis’ arrived on the scene and checked the given area that the Werewolf was not in sight, escaping grasp for now. What was discovered though were the two bodies, one of which was Lady Buchanan. Many of the Society knew her guise as a lad. Most understood why. But it was with some secrecy that they acted upon her now, especially considering the man close by was that of the vigilant they’d been watching for several weeks now. Elise was blissfully unconscious and the hunter near equally so. Medics on the scene moved to aid both parties - though ultimately Edmond, if he were awake would have the choice to join them at Primrose Garden for additional aid, or leave on his own accord. Depending on his state of mind on the whole, he may hear the medics speak about Elsie, even one or two mentioning her name - though perhaps just in passing. Considering the state, the smoke inhalation all of them were relatively lucky to have escaped with what injuries they had, their lives still intact in a situation that could have ended so very differently had it not been for a giant Wolf, who inadvertently saved not only the day but also lives of two people. What Elsie would remember when she woke, remained to be seen. And her reaction to such,
(Dec 27) 00:12:24 [Elsie] left for now, unknown.