The table splintered into dozens of pieces as it smashed into Iain. Iain struggled back to his feet and moved forward quickly. His ancient wakizashi sliced into the demon. He took care to not swing wildly and hit Alex. Iain stabbed again, drawing more demon blood.

“Kaphious? You abandon me? You let this inferior creature control you now?” the demon spat at Alex.

The demon then clubbed Alex with a glancing blow, trying to keep one of the attackers at bay. Then it raised its hand and summoned several sharp pointy shards of former table to rise off the ground. They spun in midair and all lined up at Iain. There was no way that Iain could avoid being skewed. And only one of them needed to hit the heart to send Iain to his eternal rest.

Blood splattered as Dren’s bullet hit home. The demon’s head, though well protected with its boney plate designed for protection against slashing steel, was not protected enough from a modern handgun. All of the flying bits of wood fell to the ground, short of their intended target. The demon stumbled and fell to one knee.

Alex took full advantage of the opening Dren’s attack provided. She jumped up forward and drove her blade down into the space between the demon’s neck and shoulder. Forcing the blade to the hilt, she severed the blackened heart. It fell slowly off her steel, dead at her feet.

A slight clang could be heard as Johnny dropped the unused weapon back into the bag. "Dren," he said, glancing around himself, "Once we're done wrapping this up, you'll show me the cheapest bar in town and I'll double its turnout."

He jogged up to Alex to support her, feeling - fearing - she might have stretched herself beyound any human limits. Taking in the abundant gore on four sides, he commented: "This place could need some serious janitoring, assuming we don't want Cornerstone to become the next Roswell."

For a time, Alex stared at the corpse at her feet, her breathing ragged from the exertion, her sword still held in a vice-like grip.  Then she looked up, a panicked look in her eyes as they tracked from the approaching Johnny, to Iain, and then the more distant Dren and Iona, barely believing what she was seeing.  Confusion reigned for a second, then she shook her head and took a step forward and away from Johnny, clearly announcing that regardless of whether she needed support or not, she certainly didn't want it and had no intention of accepting it.

"We should go.  The police may turn up after the gunfire."  She said in a subdued voice, casting a half-hearted glance at their battle-worn surroundings.

"That, um... That sounds like a plan. Let's just dump the demon in the river and leave: with any luck, if anybody finds it they'll think it's some sort of elaborate practical joke."

He was about to add that he had heard sirens approaching, but he couldn't honestly tell whether it was sirens or just his ears ringing.

Dren was breathing hard and a slight rasp scratched the air as he exhaled while getting a lay of the land again, he didn’t actually seem to care that the battle was won, he in fact new the area wasn’t secure until you were back home. ”Y’should b’grateful t’ave me ‘round.”

"Never said that I wasn't."  Alex replied absently, before turning back to the demon's corpse and taking a position at his feet.  "Someone want to give me a hand with this?"  She asked, bending down to get a grip on its ankles and ready to heft it into the river.

Iain stepped forward to help Alex drag the demon. Even with a vampire's strength, the creature was kinda heavy.

"Iona, I'm so glad your scientific curiosity doesn't extend to exobiology... Or whatever the proper name is for dissecting demons is."

With their combined effort, they managed to bring the body to the river and throw it in the water, where it sank quickly.

"Shall we?"
This message was last edited by the player at 09:43, Mon 05 Dec 2005.

The group cleaned up the area around the Arch as best and as quickly as they could. The air lacked the charge of evil energy it had when they had arrived.  Then they piled into the van and headed home. For those looking for a drink, the Grizzly Bar in the basement of the manor was always open. They were battered, bruised, and more than a little bit tired. But they had all survived and that made it a good day. At least one of them was hoping for an even better night.

The van made its way up the long drive and pulled into the garage, and then the battle weary group walked to the main house. The small table on the terrace was set with places for two and a bottle of wine that had a drawing of a lizard on the label. In the center of the table was a chocolate truffle dessert.

A closer look revealed that the dessert in the center was half gone, and the plates were empty except for a couple of stray raspberries. The glasses on the table were mostly empty, except for small drops of leftover wine. One of the glasses was stained with lipstick.

The door to the mansion opened and Raven stepped out, hand in hand with a man.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:11, Mon 05 Dec 2005.

Iona peered at the two on the stoop. The backlighting of the doorway shadowed their features somewhat. But she could see that his hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she noted the hand that clasped Raven’s was tan in complexion.

“Pieran?” she breathed.

Dren heard the name, but something in the back of his mind knew it couldn’t be right. With a burned and bloody hand he flipped on the nearby light switch with no regard for the pain and discomfort it caused. Staring at the man, who wasn’t Perian, his heart sank. His ears filled with fire and his head with blood. Of all the realities that Dren had considered, and all the hells he’d been through right now, at this moment, he wished it were he sinking to a watery grave… anyone but him. Anyone else and it might have been okay… but…

”Marco Pelayo.” Dren sounded, almost, pleased ”Sorry t’interupt. We’re jus’ passin’ through.” leaving a bloodstain on the wall he moved keeping people beween he and the love birds still trying to sound up beat ”‘uge Róisín Dubh fan. Truly an honor.” to the rest, and Raven he simply nodded ”It’s late, I’m gonna turn in.”

Right after I shoot myself in the head. Good night!

With that he headed out without a glint of emotion or concern for what happened next.

Raven’s hand was free of Marco’s in an instant. When Dren hit the light she got a good look at the returning group and was shocked by their appearance. This was supposed to have been a milk run - a couple of low level witches and some candles to put out. They’d obviously been in quite a fight, and from the looks of them, it wasn’t clear if they had been the victors. She ran after Dren, following him into the house. "Dren! Are you alright?"

For one moment, like a drowing victim who catches that sudden break of air, Dren heart started again... it was clear to him that she cared, even if not in the way she wanted him to. Be it his lack of initiative or even... courage. He could at least call it a day, know he still mattered to her. Nodding he actually showed her the burnt hand, not for sympath, for the reverse "Looks worse than 't is. Bloody trick candles an' all." he smiled, not to convice her he was okay, but because he was - at least for now "I need a shower an' a beer, possibly at the same time." he nodded adding "Please don't let me feel responsible fer ruinin' yer night. You deserve..." the words escaped him, and he hoped she would just fill in the blank with to relax instead of the alternative - better than me "Go 'ave fun. We'll talk lat'r." he smiled to reassure her and then continued to head to the bar.

Marco stood about 5' 9" with dark eyes and black hair that was pulled into a loose ponytail. His blue shirt appeared to be silk and complimented his black pants and boots. He watched Raven chase after Dren and for a fleeting moment considered following her, but then he thought better of it.

He turned to face the rest of the group. They were looking a bit scary in their current condition. Even though he had been an invited guest, he suddenly felt as if he was the one that was intruding. He thought he should say something to break the awkward silence. 'Say, do any of you guys know how to Madison?' leapt to mind. Instead he offered, "Good evening, I’m Marco Pelayo, pleased to make your acquaintance." There was a hint of an accent, almost Spanish but not quite. He extended his hand in greeting to the nearest person.

   Johnny considered multiple replies to this mysterious newcomer who by the sound of things went back. He was planning on a dry Seeing as Dren almost tolerates you, I take it you're not a vampire, but Marco's formal tone got him from it. On second thought, all references to the supernatural might be highly uncalled for - though he surrounded himself with witches and vamps as of late, people in general were still blissfully ignorant.

   "Pleasure to meet 'ya," Johnny said, offering his hand. "Johnny B. Hope. I really don't need yet another overly handsome guy around here, so watch yer back."

   Waiting, eager to observe, he made plans to fulfill his medical duties and down enough alcohol to get through some polar bear sleep.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:33, Tue 06 Dec 2005.

Marco smiled, deciding to take Johnny’s comment as a joke“Ah yes, Mr. Hope,” he said as he gave Johnny’s hand a firm shake. “Raven spoke of you. I understand that you are the doctor of the house, as well as a talented musician. I also play and compose music. Perhaps we could get together sometime and compare notes. I’d love to hear some of your work.”

Alex had said nothing when Raven and Marco had appeared in the doorway, and had kept silent when Dren had moved into the house, Raven following him.  Partly because the continued knifing pain in her head was making it difficult to think, and partly because she felt a touch bitter than the archeologist had been wining and dining while they had been given a severe beating.

"I've obviously been doing this research thing all wrong."  She muttered under her breath, reaching up to rub her aching forehead and without so much as acknowledging Marco, she stumbled into the house.

Marco suddenly looked even more uncomfortable than he had before. “Well, I was just leaving...” He looked in the direction where Raven had run off, with an expression that seemed to say, Please save me.

Raven watched Dren walk away. His injuries must not be too serious, or he wouldn’t have shown them to her. It was when he tried to keep her in the dark about his condition that she needed to worry. She knew he would hate for her to make a fuss over him so she let him go, and headed back to her abandoned guest.

"My apologies, everyone," she said looking first and Marco, and then the rest of the group.

Marco was at first relieved to see Raven, then his face and voice both took on a tone of mild concern. “Everything ok?”

Raven smiled and nodded at him. "Yes, everything’s fine. Sorry about that."

She looked at the others. "I guess I should do introductions. I’d like all of you to meet Marco Pelayo. Marco, these are my housemates Johnny Hope, Iona Mclean, Iain Short, and… I seem to be missing Alex."

Not Pieran. Not Pieran. Iona thought to herself, repeating it until it sunk in. But not Dren, either, she thought as she glanced at the remains of the patio picnic that she had encouraged Raven to do. This is not what was supposed to happen. Too many rapidly changing emotions had flooded in and out of her in the last few minutes. She felt her cheeks flush, first from a jealousy she knew she had no right to feel, and then from embarrassment.

Suddenly she felt even more heat rising up inside of her. No! I will not loose control. She closed her mouth, which she realized had been hanging agape since the door had been opened. She swallowed hard and forced all of her emotions into a pit in her stomach and locked them up. There’d be time to sort through them later. For now, she’d put on a pleasant face and make a good show of it.

Iona stepped forward and stuck out her hand and spoke in a controlled and cordial tone. “Pleasure to meet you. I had no idea when Raven played some of your music for me the other day that she actually knew you. What a surprise. I really enjoy your music. As Dren said, it is an honor to meet you.” Iona hoped that the blush to her cheeks would be attributed to the chill of the night air or the flush that one gets when meeting a celebrity, and not its true cause.

Marco took Iona’s hand and gently kissed it. “I assure you, the pleasure is all mine. I’m glad you liked the music. Perhaps I can play for you in person sometime, but not tonight. The hour is late and you all appear to have had a busy evening. I won’t intrude on you anymore tonight.”

Marco looked at those still standing near the entrance. “It has been a delight to have met all of you. I look forward to seeing you again.”

Raven took one last look at the group, verifying for herself that although they looked a little beat up and tired, they also looked like they’d be ok. Then she took Marco’s arm. "I’ll walk you to your car." Turning to her housemate’s one last time she said, "Goodnight everyone." Marco said his own goodbye as he and Raven walked off the patio towards the guest parking area.

Dren stepped out of the shower and looked at the burns on his arms, the skin around the area was still red and crawled with pain. Reaching out and grabbing a half empty bottle of Bushmills Single Mault he took a deep drink then poured a bit onto the palm of his hand before setting the bottle down and grabbing a towel.

Dren dried off just enough to throw on his favorite Guinness pajama pants and now padded around his room with nothing else but his Celtic cross hanging from his neck. His arms and hands were now taped with breathable gauze to allow the wounds to breath but keep anything from irritating them. With the bottle in his left, and still unmarred hand, he approached his closet and stared at it as if ready to fight it. Taking another sip from the bottle he put it down on his desk and moved to open the closet, stopping he looked at the antique desk then at the closed bathroom door. He knew Raven wouldn’t approve of risking the beautiful finish of the desk and would have insisted on a coaster, but at the same time he felt it really didn’t matter what she thought right now. Opening the closet he reached up and grabbed a gift box with his free hand and propped it between the top of his hurt forearm and his chest without having to actually grab it with his soon to be scarred right palm.

Dren lifted the lid and tossed it aside, reaching in he grasped the figurine that was nested within and let the other contents fall away. Placing the finely crafted owl on his desk he picked the bottle back up and sank into his chair to glare at the obviously expensive statue that he’d gotten as a gift for Raven. ”Sor’y friend, we’re t’lit’le, t’late.” he hoisted the bottle up to toast the figurine and drank to broken hearts and shattered dreams… but no, he couldn’t do it.

Stopping mid-drink he put the bottle back down, this time on a map of the city instead of the desk itself and started to repackage the owl, talking to it saying ”Y’belong t’Raven. Even if she dinna know y’exists, y’still belong t’er… If I e’er thought I was th’kind o’man she deserves, then I’m not gonna start destroyin’ th’things tha’ belong t’er.” closing the box he nodded resolutely ”An’ sadly, tha’includes Marco.” he cursed his Celtic Pride and it’s related Honor as he put the box back in his closet and grabbed the bottle before heading off to bed.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:46, Thu 08 Dec 2005.

Exhausted, Alex hauled herself up the stairs to the second floor and into the armoury.  She had taken to storing the majority of her arsenal there, since space was somewhat limited in her bedroom once all the clothes had been squeezed inside.  With no decorum or care, she dropped the bag on the floor once the door closed behind her, leaning back against the wall and again cupping her forehead.  Everything hurt, her head more so than the rest; but now, here, alone, all she could think about was Sarah.

Sliding down the wall, images flashed across her mind's eye; her 21st birthday, a night out at the local pub, a grab-bag of memories that could only end with one picture - that of the only three people she had truly cared about lying dead on the ground.  Reflexively, her legs curled up and she hugged her knees to her chest, trying to think of something, anything else.  But what else was there?

Had these been a scant few months ago, Sarah, who had an uncanny knack for knowing something was wrong even when she wasn't in the same room, would have burst through the door and thrown her arms around her, somehow able to always find the right thing to say or do when one of her friends needed her.  But Sarah was gone, and there would be no comforting hugs or words from her, not now and not ever again.  No longer able to hold back the feelings she had locked away, Alex buried her face in her hands and wept, spilling tears for her friends and for the void they had left behind.