Zoey tried to contain her smirking as Jack defended his "alcoholism", however, as he continued to speak her face straightened out quickly, "Hospital? What happened?" she asked.

"I'm not sure yet. I was over at Tabú earlier. Some girl seemed to have passed out suddenly. Witnesses called it a stroke, but she was too young for that I think. I can never tell if it was a natural or supernatural event, till the victim gets a physical or an autopsy. So, I'll call the hostital later to see what they say." Jack smiled as he finished his Shotgun
This message was last edited by the player at 13:07, Wed 14 Aug 2013.

"Well you will definitely have to keep me updated, let me know if it turns out to be a real juicy one" Zoey said before quickly gulping down some more of her soda. She turned and looked over at her laptop/dj station, "I guess I should get back to work, Frank doesn't pay me the big bucks to just play playlists" she smiled at Frank before bouncing back over to work.

A ray of sunlight filtered through the half-closed blinds, moving slowly across the bed as the morning approached noon. Eventually, it reached the head of the small feline curled up on said bed.

Tom raised his head and opened his eyes. He sighed in a very human way, then uncurled, stretched and yawned, all at the same time, in a very feline way.

Beast of both worlds - a pun that really was only half a joke - being a High Bast was sometimes annoying. A normal cat could have just gone back to sleep, but Tom had things to do, and it was time to do them.

Switching to his human form, he pulled a cell phone out of his pocket, and checked for messages. A couple, but none from an unknown number, so Ashley had not tried to call him, and neither had Jack.

With a shrug, he punched in a number and waited.

The darkness of the dingy bedroom was sliced with a sliver of sunlight through the gap in the "blackout" blinds of Jack's bedroom. The rhythmic thumping of Zoey's tunes below his floor were replaced by the thumping of the inside of his head. Jack rolled over in an attempt to quiet the beat, but the melodic tones of Shotgun Blues sang out of his cell along with the rapid vibrations of the device on the end table.

"'ello?"

"Hello Jack, this is Tom."

"Who?"

"Tom Silvestris? We met yesterday evening at the club."

"Do you know what time it is?"

Tom checked his watch, just to make sure there wasn't some strange night sun phenomenon going on, but no, it really was late morning.

Jack pulled the cell from his ear to look at the time. "Never mind. Later than I thought. Sorry about that Tom."

The Bast smiled: "Creature of the night, eh? I can relate... I'll keep that in mind next time. I call you to give you some information I didn't think was appropriate to divulge while Ben was around."

Tom quickly explained to Jack the nature of his "job" as a New Age-ish self-help guru, and gave him the address of his website. He didn't make any extraordinary claim on it, but there were enough posts on the forum going on and on about how well things had worked out for them after his blessing that they kinda made the claim for him.

"So, just to be clear: I do have the power to bless people with a small amount of luck, and I can choose if it's the good kind of luck or the bad one; like most people with supernatural powers, I can also detect magical signatures."

Jack had pulled himself upright and was sitting on the edge of the bed. "Well, I contacted the hospital. They confirmed Ashley was a normal human with poor judgement unfortunately. Nothing more than alcohol poisoning. Drinking way too much, too fast. She had to be really plowed, because her condition is grave. Sorry to say, she may not make it Tom."

He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.  "She could use some of your good luck, I guess."

Tom lifted a hand to pull on his ear: "Unfortunately, I already gave Ashley my blessing last night, so I won't be able to do it again for a day - but I'll visit her at the hospital, perhaps it will bring her some luck nonetheless, but the information I wanted to give you was: I don't think she just had one too many bottles. Krystal and I saw Ashley mere minutes before she left and she was pretty much sober, then, when I tried to help her after she collapsed, I could clearly smell traces of magic in the area. It was a strange thing: less structured than a spell but more than a wild surge, yet different from a natural power. I'm not sure I've ever felt anything like it."

Jack, more awake now, cocked his head to one side and stood up. "Really? Wow, that is interesting. Here I thought this was a non-story, but we may have a mystery on our hands." Jack padded on bare feet, half-dressed to the blackout blinds and parted them more. He winced at the brightness of the day.

"Tom, do you know anything about possible tracking this 'wild surge' back towards the source?" Jack grabbed a loose Camel from the top of the chest of drawers and a pack of matches. Quickly, he put the cigarette to his lips and struck the match. The calming stench of sulfur, the slight crackle of the dried leaves and choking plume of smoke combined to give him the rush he needed to become fully alert. "If we can locate who or what the source is, then we can learn if Ashley was targeted or in the wrong place, wrong time."

Tom pondered for a moment: "I... Think I can help. I'm just going to need a few things, and a little time. Well, some time. Maybe a lot. Talking to the Great Collective is a bit... Unpredictable. I might be unreachable for a while, but I'll call you back as soon as I'm done."

"That sounds great Tom. I'll investigate what I can from my end. I look forward to hearing from you later. Good luck."  Jack hung up the cellphone and took a 'healthy' drag on his cigarette. He moved toward the kitchenette to make some coffee.

---

A while later, as Krystal came back to the apartment, she found that Tom wasn't there to greet her.

On the table there was a letter:

Precious fiery opal,

I need to find a few things, to help our new friend in the press find out exactly what happened yesterday.

While I do not expect it to be especially dangerous, it may take some time.

Do not worry overmuch if you cannot reach me: I expect I will not have access to my cell phone.

I will be back as soon as possible.

Stay safe.

The letter bore the familiar mark of a cat's paw, burned onto the paper.

Zoey stepped through the door to her studio apartment, it didn't look like much but it was definitely home. For a single 20-something, Zoey actually did pretty well for herself.

"Heeere's Zoey! Squawked a voice from the other side of the room.

"Hey JP, having a good day so far?"

"Shiny."

Luckily, Zoey was never lonely. She smiled at the gray parrot as she flicked on a light. She walked past her folding card table and threw her keys on a stack of papers and blank ID cards that sat on her desk. Sliding her card maker over, she leaned over her cushy computer chair (where she obviously spent most of her time) and unfolded her laptop. She quickly checked her messages and looked at the work from her "side-job" stacking up on the desk. "Ehn they can wait a little bit, right JP?" She passed in front of the birdcage with a smile before plopping down heavily on her bed in the corner of the room.

Moments later her phone vibrated in her jeans pocket, she let out a brief sigh before grabbing it. She had received a text from a girl she'd known for awhile now.

- There's a protest outside Tabu now, ya know i can't go, u gotta rep me, pleeeaaaaasse :)

Zoey shook her head as she read the text with a smile. She sat up and spoke aloud to herself, "Yeah, yeah, being a vampire is soooo hard, I have to get all my day-walker friends to do all the dirty work for me," she mocked before rising to her feet. "JP, you're in charge, I gotta go save the people and all that jazz, try not to do anything more exciting than me today."

"Be cool, Sodapop," the bird replied.

With a quick text sent back to her friend, Zoey grabbed her keys and headed back out.

Jack finished his coffee as he finished his short story. It wasn't much. It simply stated a young woman had collapsed suddenly at Tabú and was taken to the hospital. Alcohol poisoning was suspected. The exact cause of the incident was under investigation. It was only about two and a half, maybe three inches of column text. A simple read and forget it story that anyone on the high school paper could have written. "Well, the Editor should post this one at least. I'm certainly not creating waves with this." Jack clicked the 'Submit' button and closed the laptop.

He had to find out if there was more to this. His gut told him there was and it was usually right. Or, the cream for his coffee had gone bad again. Jack headed for the shower. He needed to dig for more information.

---

Jack parked the car in the hospital lot. He took the time to brush off the random sesame seeds that had fallen off the bun of the burger he had consumed for lunch en route. Jack gathered his always at the ready pad of paper and walked into the massive building.

The elderly lady at the Information booth was kind and smiled as she told Jack which wing Ashley was on. He took the elevator up to her floor. "At least it wasn't the 7th floor." Jack said to himself.  That one was the secured level for arrested individuals that were too roughed up from resisting arrest to go straight to jail, victims police feared might still be a target because they didn't die, or the crazies that were in for 'observation' until other arrangements could be made. Ashley wasn't considered to be in those categories.

He went to the nurses station and was confronted by a not so nice woman in charge of the wing. Jack put on his 'I'm charming and harmless' face. It took a bit of convincing, and showing of the press ID, but he learned what he needed. Ashley was gone. The family was saying goodbye and trying to come to grips with their new reality. Then it was just a matter of trying to decide when to remove their brain-dead child from life support. It was little comfort that she was an organ donor. A dozen or more people would rejoice today, but for Ashley's family and friends, their world came crashing down on them. The darkness they felt would eventually lift, but it would never be the same.

Jack headed back to the car. There was nothing more for him here. As Jack reached his car, his pocket vibrated as the muted tunes of Shotgun Blues sang out. Without looking at the screen he tapped Answer and put the device to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Good afternoon. I'm trying to reach Jack Jennings." The male voice on the phone was smooth and friendly, like a salesman who worked on commission.

"This is Jack Jennings. What can I do for you?" Jack wedged the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he fished his keys out of his pockets to unlock the car door.

"Jack, it's a pleasure to speak with you. I'm Corbin Frost. I believe Toni introduced us at the Christmas party."

The keys clattered with a tinny jangle as they hit the pavement. Jack nearly dropped his phone as well. "Mis, Mister Frost um, yes I believe you are correct. It was Toni." Jack winced at the lame response.  "You caught me off guard. This is kind of early for you." Winced again. "I mean, how can I help you?" He tried to remember if there was something he did at the party that would have made this phone call more awkward.

There was a soft chuckle on the other end of the phone. "I take it you aren't a regular reader of my column. Sun-sensitivity isn't a universal trait. And please, call me Corbin. After all, we're colleagues."

Jack took a quick deep breath to regain his cool. "Okay, Corbin it is. I have read your column from time to time but, most of what you write about isn't my reality, so I find it hard to relate. We just tend to move in different circles. Although, we did intersect so to speak. I was at Tabú last night chasing down one of my types of stories. Any chance you were there as well?" Initial shock was passing as Jack regained his nerve.

"I understand. Celebrity gossip isn't your thing. Believe me, there are days that I wish it wasn't mine." Corbin's tone became more serious. "Regarding Tabú, I assume you're referring to that poor girl that fell ill. I thought Toni might have assigned you that story. That's actually why I'm calling. I was there last night. I was hoping we could get together and talk about it."

"Sure thing" Jack did not want to drop any bombs onto Corbin while on the phone. He wanted to look the vampire in the eye to see if he knew anything. "My schedule is mostly open today or tomorrow. Where and when do you want to meet?" He pulled his steno pad from his pocket and placed on the car roof.

"Why don't you join me for cocktails tonight at my place, say around nine o'clock?"

"Sounds great! I'll see you then." Jack wrote down the address and hung up the phone. "Shit! Cocktails with Corbin - tonight! I'm going to have to do some laundry." Jack retrieved his keys from under the car. No matter what else happened, this was going to be an interesting day.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:27, Sun 08 Sept 2013.

"You say you want a revolution.
Well, you know,
We all want to change the world.

You tell me that it's evolution.
Well, you know,
We all want to change the world."

Revolution ~ The Beatles

There were still many people who opposed giving paranormals equal rights and protections. They would jump on any opportunity to sound the alarm and point out the dangers of living alongside preternaturals. A human girl ending up near death, after visiting a well-known supernatural hang-out, was the perfect spark to fire up the radicals.

An organization called Humans First had made it their mission to try to close down all businesses that were para-friendly. They used social media like Twitter and Facebook to get the word out. A crowd started to gather outside Tabú shortly after lunch. The scene was very familiar to anyone who had lived through the civil rights and gay marriage movements. The sentiments on some of the signs were so similar that the protesters could have just crossed out the word blacks to write in gays, and then cross that out to write in paras. There were always people on the wrong side of history.

Protesting vampires during the day definitely gave Humans First an advantage that they tried to exploit. Their numbers would probably start to thin around sunset. There were people of all ages -- young, old and in-between. Some people even brought their children. Some of the signs looked professionally made and they carried messages such as, "God Hates Clites!", "Undead = Unatural", "Bloodsuckers spread disease", and "They will eat your babies!" By mid-afternoon, they had a good-sized crowd.

That was when a handful of counter protesters started to trickle in. They held signs made from cardboard boxes that had been ripped up. Some of the hastily scrawled messages were, "Paranormal and Proud", "No H8", and "Paras are People too." A few uniformed police officers kept a watchful eye to make sure order was maintained. The opposing groups gave each other dirty looks and tried to shout each other down.

"Repent! Hell awaits you."

"This is a den of Sin!"

"Don't hate what you don't understand!"

"Go back to your grave!"

Zoey approached the growing crowd and shook her head, they were always outnumbered during the day. She smiled and greeted familiar faces as she gathered with the pro-para-rights side. "They have to know all this protesting isn't going to work right? Even if they do get more people, Corbin is a powerful guy that won't go down without a fight" Zoey spoke to a few individuals who could only agree with her. "I'm gonna see if anyone has an extra sign I could use" Zoey let out a slight sigh as she mentally prepared herself for the rest of her evening.

Krystal decided she was going to blame John Lennon. Anytime she ended up more focused on a song than her surroundings it usually Amanda Palmer's fault but she'd been listening to the Beatles before turning the corner so it was John's fault this time.

Krystal removed her earphone and looked at the chaos outside of Tabu. She was now starting to think her dream was just a dream, and started thinking she should have stayed home. Then the drinks would also be free.

"Damn it." She had half a mind to call Tom, deciding he should share John's blame. If he'd have been home, Krystal wouldn't even be here right now. Instead, she checked the signs and was relieved to be on the Pro-Para side of the mess. Still, she didn't want to be stuck out here and finding a way inside was going to require making a temporary friend. Looking around she noticed someone walking through the crowd without a sign and felt a pang of hope.

"Hey! Hi!" she waved to the other girl and closed the distance. "You here for the protest?" It was only after asking that she realized how that question might have sounded... too late to correct.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:06, Wed 18 Sept 2013.

Zoey perked up as she realized she was being flagged down, "Yeah, yeah I am. I was just about to get a sign or something, I'm sure I could scrounge one up for you too" Zoey said with a warm smile. She then quickly added, "That is, of course, assuming you are on the right side of having rights" she gave out a sort of half-laugh as she tried to appear friendly and still get her point across.

Krystal was silent for a moment longer than she needed to be. "What? Right! No, I'm on the side I'd rather be one." She grinned then seemed to remember something long forgotten. "Wait! I mean, I'm all Pro-Para. I even like ParaPara. Japanese?" She held up her hand and moved almost as if voguing. "Point is. I didn't mean to show up for a protest, or anti-protest or whatever. Any chance we can make this a sit down protest? Maybe inside? Where they serve drinks? Wait! Not that I'm offering to buy you a drink, I mean the whole group. Not that I wouldn't buy - damn it! Hi, I'm Krystal and I'd love to join your protest." she held out her hand in greeting with a sheepish smile as if hoping this girl didn't think she was totally out of her mind.

Although Zoey seemed confused by some of the woman's ramblings she couldn't help but be amused, she smirked slightly as her confusion transitioned into finding her stammering cute. Promptly, she extended her hand and laughed slightly, "I'm Zoey, it's uh nice to meet you" as she ended the handshake she gestured over her shoulder closer to the crowd, "Would you like a sign or are you just the shouting-type? Unless of course you really wanted to sit somewhere, I might be able to see what I could arrange" she slipped her hands into the back-pockets of her jeans as she spoke with the "new-protester"

Krystal let one shoulder rise and fall in non-commitment, "Never let it be said I wasn't willing to compromise. But, I'm not much of a shouter so I'll take a sign. But, in 20 can we think about moving this inside where all the refreshments are?"

"Alright then, sign it is. And I'm sure I'd be willing to take a break with you in a bit. Until then, I saw a stack of extra signs we can peruse through." Zoey motioned closer to the crowd as she led the way to some quickly made cardboard signs. They weren't very fancy but they got the message across.

Krystal found one that looked someone had clearly given up and just written Mathew 7:1 in large but thin letters. Krystal wasn't up on her bible passages so she looked up at someone holding a END H8 sign. Liking that one she tapped the guy on the shoulder. "I need to switch with you." she shrugged and smiled sheepishly. Experinced had taught her that as long as a pretty girl pretended to know something they didn't, most guys were willing t-

"Sorry. I'm Buddhist." He returned her sheepish smile and even gave her back the shrug.

"Way to practice tolerance." she said under the breath. Holding up her sign, but saving her voice, Krystal started to look up the passage on her phone to at least find her 'character motivation' for holding it.

As it got later in the day, the numbers on both sides of the protest continued to grow. The heat was making everyone cranky. Then a couple of twenty-something guys showed up with some cans of paint and made their way toward the sculptures of a semi-nude man and woman that acted as columns at Tabú's entrance. A young woman wearing jeans and a t-shirt with the Coexist logo spotted them. "NO!" She chased after them. "That's art. You can't ruin it!" The young men ignored her, so she grabbed one of their arms.

"GET OFF OF ME, YOU BLOODSUCKING BITCH!" The man yelled as he pushed the woman away from him. She fell backwards, slamming into Zoey and Krystal, which pushed the two of them into some protesters on the other side. Those protesters shoved back, and things were on the brink of deteriorating even further when cops suddenly appeared. They weren't concerned with who started it, they were just going to make sure they ended it by rounding up all involved. A half a dozen people, including Zoey and Krystal were taken to the police station and placed into holding cells.

Nobody notices a cat strolling into an alley.

Nobody notices the alley wasn't there the day before, either.

Nobody notices if, shortly afterwards, the cat is nowhere to be seen.

It takes more than a little magic to place a permanent invisibility spell on an entire building, but the owner of that particular shop did, in fact, have more than a little magic.

The ancient door didn't creak as it opened. In fact, it made no noise, which surprised Tom, who distinctly remembered that there used to be a chime. Its disappearance was a change, and things were not supposed to change there. Tom found the missing chime more than a little disquieting.

Sure, the last time he was there had been several decades earlier (and the door was in another country), but it was still the same shop. Time and space did not have the same meaning there as they did outside - which also took more than a little magic, of course.

The light in the shop was dim: there was no electricity in the building, as some of the items being kept in there did not appreciate being near technology. There were also no windows: all the light was provided by old-fashioned gas lamps. All the lamps were lit. There were no gas pipes coming into the building, of course, qualifying that as perpetual motion - which, unsurprisingly, also took more than a little magic, but then...

Tom realized he was stalling. He had had a bad feeling since he hadn't heard the chime as he opened the door, and now he was afraid that the shopkeeper would confirm it.

He sent out a telepathic call on a wide band - the telepathic equivalent of a loud call: Hello, old friend.

A low rumble came from behind the counter. Well, well, well. Curiosity's last victim. It has been a while, has it not?

Indeed, it has. So he was in. Good. Well, of course he was, it wasn't like he went out much. How does this day find you, friend?

I would not know how, but find me it does. Time has finally taken notice of me, it would appear. The telepathic voice seemed amused.

Tom was caught completely by surprise: those were words he had never expected to hear. Several items in the shop had explicitly been put under its owner's protection on the assumption that he would protect them until the end of time itself.

You need not worry, old friend. My duties are not being neglected, and I shall find an apprentice in due time. But now, you are not here to listen to an old lizard complain about old age. How may I help you?

Well... I need some spectacles.

Oh? Has old age found you too? A telepathic chuckle followed.

After Curiosity? I expect there is some healthy fear of the Goddess in the lower planes. No, I need some pretty specific spectacles... The explanation took a while. Finding the spectacles took longer.

When Tom left the shop, night had fallen.

He hoped it was still the same day.

He hoped it was still the same century!

Regardless, it had definitely been a long day. Expensive, too.

And he still had to talk to the Goddess...

"Please allow me to introduce myself
I'm a man of wealth and taste
I've been around for a long, long year
Stole many a man's soul and faith"

Sympathy For The Devil ~ The Rolling Stones



Corbin Frost lived in the Gold Coast District of Chicago, in the original Playboy Mansion that Hugh Hefner had owned and lived in during the sixties and seventies. A recent spread in the magazine Modern Luxury Interiors showed that Corbin had restored the mansion to its Playboy decor, including the fireman's pole that connected to the basement pool. Corbin's parties had become just as legendary as Hefner's were in those earlier decades. A brass plate on the door had the Latin inscription, Si Non Oscillas, Noli Tintinnare ("If you don't swing, don't ring").

Jack whistled softly as he got out of his car. He had parked across the street from the residence and took a moment to take in the iconic 4-story home. Just off the heart of the city, there wasn't a long driveway or large gardens. But what it was and what it stood for was impressive none the less.

Jack expected to be challenged at the gated entrance to the grounds, but he was able to push the iron gate open. "Corbin is either confident in his abilities or that was because I am expected. Neither thought makes me less nervous." Jack said to no one. He approached the extra wide door. After a last minute check for wrinkles, stains, and loose threads, Jack took a quick deep breath and then pressed the doorbell. Just because he wasn't from this part of town didn't mean he couldn't look like he belonged here. "No turning back now. Just two journalists getting together."

The door was opened by a woman wearing a distressingly bright and garish, multi-colored caftan. It looked like it had been stolen from Mrs. Roper's closet in the seventies. She had accessorized the dress with a clunky bracelet and beaded necklace. Her long hair was braided into a ponytail that fell in front of her left shoulder and down her chest. Her hair was completely gray in color. She looked to be in her eighties.

"Hello." She had a cheery smile, and a voice that felt like a grandmotherly hug.

Jack was taken aback a bit. He had expected either a big burly bouncer type (race / species optional) or a Playboy Bunny type. "Hello. I'm  I'm Jack, Jack Jennings. I believe I am expected." He hoped his surprise didn't show too badly.

"Oh yes, of course." She opened the door wider. "Please come inside." The hallway was adorned with marble floors, a curving staircase, and expensive artwork. "Mr. Frost should be with you shortly. You can wait for him in the game room." She led Jack into a room with wood-paneled walls, a fireplace, and leather furniture. There was a pool table next to another table designed to comfortably seat eight for poker. A wet bar ran along one wall, and in an alcove was a stone hot tub with a small waterfall. Behind the bar was a painting of the Chicago skyline. A partially open door connected to another room that appeared to be an office or study. Jack could see Corbin in the other room with a dark-haired woman that was talking on a cell phone.

"Can I get you something to drink?" the elderly woman offered.

Corbin stepped into the room. "Jack, nice to see you." Corbin extended his right hand for a handshake while his left hand held his customary cigar. "Yes, what are you drinking? Rose here makes an excellent dirty martini."

"Martinis are like sex, the dirtier the better." Rose smiled as she moved behind the bar.

Jack smiled warmly as he shook the extended hand. His brain screamed Beer! Ice cold and lots of it! "I can wait if you have other business to conclude." Jack nodded toward the other room with the woman on the cellphone.

"Actually, she's the reason I called you," Corbin said. "She should be joining us shortly, and then we can get down to business."

Jack nodded. "In that case, I'd like to try one of Rose's martinis." Jack quickly looked around the room. He guessed that the cost of furnishing and decorating this room alone, could cover his rent for a year. "Nice place you've got here. You have good taste. But of course you do. I'm sure that helps you do your job so well."

Corbin chuckled. "Jack, it's been centuries since I've held a job. Not that there's anything wrong with working for a living. I have the utmost respect for people who do. I was just never very good at that whole daily grind kind of thing." Corbin opened up a wooden box on the end of the bar which turned out to be a humidor filled with cigars. He offered one to Jack.

"Cuban I presume," Jack said, as he selected one of the fine looking cigars.

"The best that can be legally imported to the states," Corbin replied.

Jack took the cigar in hand and thought about having to bite off the tapered end, then became fearful of where he would spit it. Ever the fine host, Corbin pivoted and in a singular smooth motion he set the humidor down, and passed an engraved ashtray fitted with a silver double-bladed cigar guillotine. Jack nodded approvingly as he took the device and nipped the end off the cigar. Thank God for the movies. Once properly nipped, he lit the business end.

Drinks and cigars! We are becoming best friends. Or there is a 'Jack, what I need for you to do...' attached to all this, he thought. "I could never do a daily grind in an office cubical either. That's why I like being an investigative reporter. Gets me out of the office. Never exactly the same thing from day to day."

"Variety is the spice of life," Rose said, as she handed Jack his martini. She returned to the bar and opened a dark red bottle and placed it in a fancy warmer. Humans had their ice buckets and wine chillers but, blood was best served warm. Vampires had developed their own bar accessories. This particular bottle was an expensive blend of the highest quality animal blood, red wine, brandy, and spices. Essentially, it was a hot-spiced-wine mixed with blood.

"Thank you Rose." Jack moved the stabbed olives out of the way and sipped his drink. His mouth was assaulted by several sensations at once; the burn of alcohol, the briny taste of the olives reminded him of a New Orleans Muffaletta, the moisture of his mouth getting sucked away by the vermouth. And yet, it wasn't bad! It would never replace a cold beer, but he had a drink he could order at a fancy gathering. "Wow, that is different. Nice, it wakes up your mouth and warms the soul," Jack took another sip. Do not think about drinking a martini, puffing a Cuban cigar, all while in the Playboy mansion. Too late, but if he mentions that hot tub I'm out of here, he thought.

"I'm glad you liked it." Rose turned to Corbin and said, "If that's all you need from me, I have a date I need to get ready for."

"We're good, Rosie, thank you," Corbin said. "You have yourself a good time." He gave the older woman a kiss on the cheek. "If that young man doesn't behave himself, call me."

Rose smiled. "He better not behave himself! I'll be sorely disappointed if he does."

As Rose exited the room, the dark-haired woman emerged from the study. At just over five feet, she wasn't very tall. She wore a red blouse with plunging neckline and black leather skirt that showed off her perfect hour-glass figure. She had a strained expression on her face.

"Is everything all right?" Corbin asked. "My offer still stands, the two of you could stay here tonight, or as long as it takes for this to blow over."

"I am not going to let them chase me out of my own home! I won't give them the satisfaction. She spoke with a thick Hispanic accent. "I've faced angry mobs before. I'm not that easy to frighten."

"This is the man I told you about earlier, Jack Jennings. He's a reporter and I'm hoping that he can help you." Corbin poured a glass of the blood red wine and handed it to her. "Jack, I'd like you to meet one of my dearest friends. This is Belladona. She's the owner of Tabú."
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:21, Fri 13 Feb 2015.

Jack was out of hands, so he cleared one by setting down the drink. He extended his hand toward her. "Nice to meet you, Belladonna. I'm not quite sure how I can be of assistance."

Belladonna's hand was warm to the touch, just as Corbin's had been when Jack shook his hand. Both vampire's had fed recently. "The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Jennings."

"Why don't we all sit down so we can talk." Corbin directed everyone toward the leather couch and chairs by the fireplace. "I'm sure you've heard about the protests outside of Tabú."

"Would this have anything to do with the article I wrote on the incident at your club last night?"

"A very loud minority would use any excuse to shut us down." Belladonna appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties but, her actual age was impossible to discern. Her long, black hair hung in waves about her shoulders.

Jack sat in a chair. With a satisfying woooosh of air escaping, the cushions enveloped him. He puffed on the cigar, mindful of the ash. "And what exactly is this excuse being used to try and shutter your doors, Belladonna?"

"They are blaming my club for what happened to that unfortunate girl."

"Yes, I believe your article said the hospital reported that it was alcohol poisoning," Corbin said to Jack.

"My staff are well trained," Belladonna interjected. "They would've cut her off. The police questioned the bartender that was working that night. He said she only had one drink, and that she didn't appear intoxicated."

"Are you certain he is being truthful? I know a bar can get quite busy and the tender just fills the requests as fast as they can. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that just to keep their job." Jack said.

"Trust me, if he were lying, I would know." She was beautiful and intimidating, all at the same time. It was easy to believe that no man could keep secrets from her.

"Most of the police are still not that supportive of paranormals," Corbin said. "We just can't be sure that uncovering the truth in this case would be a priority for them."

"It's a ridiculous notion, Belladonna casually sipped her drink. "If vampires wanted to kill humans, we have much better methods than filling them up with too much liquor."

Corbin winced, ever so slightly. "I think it would be in your best interest to not talk about killing humans, in any context." Belladonna simply shrugged, and continued to drink her "wine". Corbin tried to steer the conversation back to less homicidal topics. "She needs somebody with investigative skills, that isn't predisposed to believing we're all evil monsters."

Jack smiled slightly. "We are all monsters, deep down. Most have good control on that side of themselves. But we are not all evil.  That is a significant difference." He took a sip on his drink and then a long draw on the cigar. Jack rather enjoyed the attention as he pondered. In fact it was a brief moment.

"I will look into it further. I just had this feeling the full story hasn't come to light yet. Know that I will print the truth as I find it. I won't change the facts just to make you look good, Belladonna."

"Looking good comes naturally to me," Belladonna said. "It's petty human politics that I struggle with."

Corbin turned toward her. "Yes, because vampires are never petty about their politics."

Belladonna smiled at Corbin, as if they shared an inside joke. "I didn't say that."

Corbin stood up to shake Jack's hand again. Apparently, the little get-together was over. "We appreciate anything you can do, Jack. No one is asking you to lie. All we want is to be treated fairly."

Jack thought about gulping down the rest of his drink, but then thought it would be bad form. Oh well, at least he had drunk most of it. He shook Corbin's hand. "I will be in touch. And thank you for your hospitality."

"Belladonna, I presume I can interview your staff as needed? And I will want to look over the club, probably while you are not open for business. I will try to not be a pain in the ass, but I will need access."

"My staff and I have nothing to hide," Belladonna responded. "I will let them know to expect your questions."

Corbin reached into his jacket and pulled out a business card that he handed to Jack. "Call me with whatever you may learn, or if there's any way that I can be of help." Clearly, Corbin was making himself the point of contact, instead of Belladonna.

"Thank you," Jack said as he accepted Corbin's card. "I can see myself out." He turned to leave the mansion. Despite the warm welcome, he still felt just a little outside this newly formed alliance. At least two of its members had a history they were not ready to share yet.

Jack got into his car and buckled up. The bulge on his side reminded him to turn his cellphone back on. He started the car as the device sang to life - followed immediately by more tones and buzzing. Jack delayed putting the car into gear to see that he had a missed call and a voice mail. "Okay sorry. I was busy. What is up with my niece." Jack said as he punched in the code to retrieve the message.

"Uh hey Jack, it's kind of a long story but umm I kinda need you to come get me...from jail. Oh and this new girl I met...don't ask, it's not nearly as bad as it sounds, I didn't do anything wrong. Oh I gotta go, I'll explain everything when you pick us up... uh thaaaaanks"
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:26, Fri 13 Feb 2015.

"Great, just great! Zoey, what have you done?" Jack started the car and headed for the police station on Lincoln Ave. It dawned on him that she could be anywhere in the city, but he hoped she was at least staying close to work and home if she was going to get arrested. If he was wrong, and the police had finished booking, she would be in the system and they could redirect him.

"And my time with 'High Society' of Chicago is over. No cuddle time for you, Jack," he said to himself. His mind started going through the possible and likely scenarios as he drove to the station.

Traffic stop, no. She drives good enough to not need to be arrested. Traffic stop with a smart-ass comment, possible, if the cop is in no mood. But then there is this other girl. Where did she come from. Hitchhiker? No, not likely. Okay, from that angle. She got into a fight with this girl. Cops arrested them both. Possible, but then she wouldn't want me to bail her out, would she? She makes friends easy, but... Old friend I don't know about. Likely, but arrested together? 'Hey Zoey, long time no see! Want to get together and commit crime poorly?' Nope.  Old friend running from the cops. Now that's possible. She is always trying to help strays. Why is she running from the cops? Only God knows...
Crap, drove past the station and can't U-turn!

"Zoo-eey!"

Jack looked for a place to turn around on the very busy street.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:01, Tue 29 Oct 2013.

The Collective had been surprisingly helpful, coming through with the spell in a very short time. Even better, by the time Tom got home, it was still the same day.

Somehow, he had thought it would take longer.

Just outside the door, he switched to his human form, which was now wearing a set of glasses, and took out his key. As he unlocked the door, he counted the turns.

Four. There was nobody home.

Pity, he had hoped to show off his newest fashion accessory to Krystal.

Locking the door behind himself (two turns), he looked around the apartment: his letter had been moved, so Krystal had read it.

She was probably out having fun. He would join her soon, but first, he wanted to try that new spell, and make sure that it worked as advertised.

He concentrated on the time at which he and Krystal had come back home the night before (or was it that morning?), and slowly and carefully repeated the necessary incantation.

A few seconds later, he could clearly see two bright shapes coming through the door.

So that was what his aura looked like. Interesting. Krystal's aura was pretty - not that he planned on telling her that, the girl certainly didn't needed an ego boost.

Also interesting, both auras were brighter than he had expected. Perhaps the auras of supernaturals were more pronounced? He would have to experiment on that.

He watched as the two shapes repeated the actions that he and Krystal had performed when they had come home. The spell seemed to work just fine. Now, with any luck, he would be able to find out exactly what had happened to Ashley.

Jack had worked the process of posting bail for Zoey and her new 'friend'. He had to prove who he was and suffer the look of disgust from a Sergeant behind the desk as his name was known to many of the local police. He signed page after page of paperwork, acknowledging that he was financially responsible if Zoey and friend did not show up for their hearing next week. Finally, it all was done and the policeman called to have them brought up.

He was surprised to see this Krystal girl with Zoey as they exited from lockup, but he remained stone-faced. The explanation would be better if I got it outside - beyond the hearing of the police, Jack thought.

"Lets go. We can talk in the car." was all he said. Jack turned and led the small procession down the worn steps and through the door. He got to the car first, but didn't unlock it. He looked at both girls. "I just signed away my paychecks for the next two months. Someone better tell me why."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:05, Tue 29 Oct 2013.

"Because you can't resist my charming innocent smile?" Zoey answered with a sheepish grin. She let the joke hang out there for a moment before straightening herself up, "It's really nothing, we were trying to support our Para-friends in the protest at Tabu and some idiots got a little too excited, started shoving people around, and we were too close to the action so the cops just scooped us all up and threw us in here. I was really just trying to do my civic duty and all that. Ooh and of course" Zoey gestured to Krystal, "This is Krystal, Krystal, this is Jack"

Tom was slightly annoyed. He had been hoping Krystal would be back soon, so that he could show her his new toy, but when he woke up from his nap she was nowhere to be seen.

With an impatient swish of his tail, he stood up and changed into human form. Still no calls on his cell phone.

He thought for a moment: there was another person who would be interested in some more information about what had happened at Tabu, and he was just one text message away...

[Hey Jack, it's Tom. I may have some more information. Would you meet me at Tabu? You pick the time.]

Jack shifted his gaze to Krystal. "Nice to see you again, Krystal. Twice in as many days you are at the center of a police involved incident. Interesting, wouldn't you say?"

The sound of a teletype machine briefly punching out a headline broke the moment of silence. Jack pulled his cellphone from his hip and looked at the new text message.

"Oh look, it's your friend Tom." Jack showed the girls the message that read, [Hey Jack, it's Tom. I may have some more information. Would you meet me at Tabu? You pick the time.] "I for one would like more information."

Jack unlocked the car doors. With a slight smile at Zoey and a shake of his head that said 'I can't stay mad at you' he opened his door. He quickly texted Tom back. [Meet you there, in about an hour] Jack pressed Send and got into the car. "Shall we all go back to the scene of the crimes?"