New York, a town full of smog, traffic, and people. Despite it's bad qualities, people still see it as a popular tourist attraction. For what reason, some may question it. The real reason, however, is most of the the 'tourists' in and out of New York aren't exactly...human. New York is a popular hub for supernaturals of various kinds to gather, meet, and generally have a fun time. Vampires and werewolves in particular visit New York on a constant basis, either looking for work, a good time, or to join up with one of the shady factions that may or may not actually exist. They do, however, in-fact exist unbeknownst to most mortals. The Blackbloods, the vampires. The Silver Moon, the werewolves. And The Mix, the hybrids of the two or even a human.

Not everyone gets accepted, not everyone is liked, not everyone makes it out of New York alive. Normally, there is peace between the three families, a contract binding the three not to begin war or interfere with the others business. This was followed almost flawlessly for three hundred years, only the occasional 'slip-up' would occur, which was dealt with relatively quickly by the respective families hitman or cleaner. Over the past year, however, each family has been dying off at a rapid pace to where only a few remain. Currently The Silver Moon is the only faction with an active head, and even they are in complete disarray.

No one is sure what happened for sure, but everyone is blaming the other, and it's taking all their willpower not to start a full-blown war. Is it one of the family members murdering the rest? But why would they murder their own? The perfect set-up or the perfect betrayal? Or perhaps it's an 'external' force offing the supernatural?
------

Anya hummed merrily, swinging her legs back and forth while perched on a bar stool. Her families bar, to be exact. Well, one of them, anyway. The Zone, pretty corny right? Yea, Anya thought so too. But it still served the best blood infused drinks out of all of them. Only vampires or vampire hybrids were allowed to step foot into the bar, the bouncer out front was VERY discriminatory too. Werewolves mixed with the rest just caused way to much of a hassle. Anya continued humming, sipping her drink and swinging her legs while looking out at the crowd. No one she particularly knew had shown up yet, she was getting kinda bored and lonely, not to mention hungry.

Even though the drinks were infused with blood, that didn't mean it was enough blood to particularly sate her thirst. She sighed. Maybe she'd go out and get some 'food', or maybe she'd sit here and order another drink. Probably get another drink, yea, sounds good, she thought. Ordering another drink she remained in her place, smiling and humming.

Norman Perry walked along the busy New York streets. Even at this hour car and cabs were racing by, only stopping for the occasional traffic light that turned red. The wind from the passing cars was a bit cold. The cold really didn't bother Norman, he was just annoyed by the fact that the wind made it increasingly difficult to light a cigarette. The flame finally held in a moment of peace, when no cars passed by. Norman continued on his way, the orange tip of his cigarette leading the way. The young vampire almost lost his train of thought because of 'the cigarette incident'. How could he forget? Vampires and Werewolves had been dying left and right. At first he was annoyed, almost angry, because of this. Was there a war brewing? And he wasn't invited? This was however not the case. Then there were two options left... Either he wasn't hit yet, because he wasn't consider worthy to off or because whoever was behind this was scared. The former made him angry, the latter however made him smile. Norman had given the issue a lot of thought and came up with nothing of substance. Letting the thought go, he continued on to The Zone.

After a short walk, and another 'cigarette incident', Normand arrived at The Zone. One of the most exclusive establishments in the city. He walked op to the bouncer, "Norman Perry". The bouncer checked the list, nodded, murmured a welcome and let the vampire past. The Zone wasn't the kind of place Norman usually would hang out. There was a little bar in Manhattan, just as exclusive as this one, called "Bloody Hell" where he liked to pass the time. That bar had however been raided by whoever or whatever was killing off vampires. Let's just say the Bloody Hell was turned into a bloody mess. He didn't really care for the patrons, it was more that the whiskey they had was exquisite. Norman made his way to the bar and immediately spotted the small girl sitting there, Anya. He nodded at her as he arrived at the bar. The Zone didn't have the assortment of whiskeys that the Bloody Hell had. He ordered a beer and took the stool next to Anya.

"Hi, what's the plan?", Norman asked. Normally he was only invited to something if there was a job involved.

A ceiling fan slowly rotated overhead, barely blowing onto the long table down below. The room had once been lavish, the far wall lined with various alcohols, the table itself a mahogany piece, but the atmosphere felt too solemn to enjoy any luxuries.

Bastian entered, locking the door behind him. Strolling forward, he placed a singular pizza down onto the table, one piled with toppings and tasting strongly of garlic. Normally meetings mandated larger amounts of food, but this was no such time; he only brought the pie out of formality anyways. The leader always provided food for meetings.

Taking a seat, he deeply inhaled a cigarette, and took a long stare over the room. Only a small handful present, though among them was Calava. It was no surprise his top enforcer was alright. Still, sitting nearby was the new member- Alissa. She was still a pup, learning the ropes. Bastian withdrew the cigarette, and exhaled a large cloud, sifting out from behind his teeth.

"I trust you're all aware of the nature of our meeting." he began, "So I'm going to cut to the chase. We have an assassin thinning our ranks, and I don't know if it's a human hunter, a turncoat from our own, or some vampire got too big for his fucking boots, but I want his head on a stick."

Gritting his teeth, he ground the butt into an ash tray.

"To make matters worse, we can't strike until we've confirmed his identity. If we strike the Blackbloods and it's a Human monster hunter, we waste resources and lives on a war while they're still hammering us. The other way around, and we're just drawing attention while the leeches laugh their asses off." the werewolf growled, momentarily gritting his teeth before composing himself.
"I've already contacted other cells, and told them to spread the word to all members. They'll pack heat and lay low while we settle things here. The initial panic is over, so we can focus on what's important."

"The rest of the meeting will be dedicated to the identity of our wannabe woodsman. Potential leads, areas of interest, and creating a spy network. Any questions?"

"GodDAMNIT, Sleepy! I'm up to my eyeballs in paperwork, and you two seem hellbent on givin' me more with every case!", Police Chief MacStache pulled a report out of the drawer and slapped it on the table, "I mean, what in the hell is this report supposed to be!? You ran over Kurt Cobain?"

"The shambling, bloodsucking corpse of Kurt Cobain, actually. Important distinction."

"I don't care if it was the Queen of motherfuckin' Sheba! It's bad enough that you two chucklefucks are takin' up valuable broom closet space, but you seem to think that you gotta waste the precinct's goddamn time while yer at it!"

"But that's what-"

"I DON'T CARE IF IT'S 'WHAT REALLY HAPPENED', YA BIG DUMB BASTARD!", He jabbed a finger at the report, "You really think the commissioner is gonna believe your reports!? I mean, look at this shit! 'Unfortunately, the body disintegrated during processing due to being left in direct sunlight'? Really? You think anyone's gonna buy that?"

"Well, yeah, it's a little hard to swallow, but-"

"Yeah, I know, I know. 'But that's what happened, Chief!' 'I dunno know what you want us to do, Chief!' 'That son of a bitch was askin' for it, Chief!'", MacStache looked down at his desk, pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a deep breath.

"Look, Sleepy, I know you and the kid are tryin' yer hardest. Hell, two of ya might just be the best damn beat cops this city's ever had, but I can't keep coverin' for ya, understand? I got a career ta think about, the wife and kids ta take care of...", he sighed, "I got priorities, alright? Just- try an' keep it normal, just 'till things blow over. Commissioner's been ridin' my ass about the Siberians lately."

"I'll do my best, Chief.", Sleepy mumbled. He fidgeted as he leaned against the wall, "Sooo..."

"Yeah, yeah.", MacStache grumbled tossed Sleepy a set of heavily-worn car keys, "Yer squad car is down at the impound lot."

"Thanks, Chief.", said Sleepy, catching the keys as he opened the office door.

"And quit usin' it to run things down!", the Chief grunted, "Fenders can't take it."

"No promises!", Sleepy called as he jogged out the door.

"Bastard.", MacStache grunted as he withdrew a flask from his desk's bottom drawer. His wife had told him to quit drinking, but hey.

No promises.

It was just another day as usual on the force for Eddie Ben. Early today, as per usual Eddie attempted to request additional broom-closet space. It was cramped in the Peninsula with Sleepy, he had hardly any personal space in there. Of course, it was always denied, but Eddie hoped that one day, the Precinct would acquiesce his petition.

Ah well, at least he already finished up his report regarding that incident in the Queens. At least they didn't have to run him down and fuck up the fenders this time. And so was the situation they had now.

Eddie paced about in the interrogation room as he eyed a somewhat twitchy man who had cuffs locked on over his Chinese-knock off Donald Duck costume. The damn suit was glued on, and the fact he kept flailing around before getting put into the interrogation room didn't help any. Course, this bastard was going back to the Drunk Tank soon. But not just yet, as Eddie needed to get some information out of him while he was still fresh.

This town was a dying whore, and she was infested with crime. If this son of a bitch had even the slightest bit of information about higher crime lords, Eddie would get it. Eddie paced back towards the desk and sat on a backwards facing chair. He gazed into the soul-less eyes of that duck costume wearing man.

"Why were you in Chinatown?"

Nothing. The perp said nothing.

Eddie stared unamused before asking again, "Why were you in Chinatown?"

The suspect tapped his foot on the floor, as he glanced towards Eddie. Shaking his head the officer tapped on a manilla envelope. He was thinking of a different method to go about the interrogation. Perhaps it was the time to establish some common ground. He needed to get this bastard to think he wasn't his enemy. Then he could take that bastard down.

"So you like Donald Duck?"

The suspect, didn't do anything for a moment. He then shook his head from side to side before muttering out a slurred out "No." There was a bit of silence as Eddie observed the suspect. "Shays gud bucks fer -" The suspect grumbled out before hiccuping.

He had something to go off of.

"For what?" Eddie inquired.

Rolling his head back, the costumed suspect hiccuped again before his head slammed against the desk. Eddie stared at him for a moment. Well shit. The officer had no choice but to get him back to the drunk tank. He would need to wait for the bastard to sober up, before he could interview him some more.

Eddie walked out of the interrogation room as he waved over a fellow cop. "Hey, the perp needs to get back to the tank. Mind getting him back, I'm gonna take a smoke-break." Eddie reached into his jacket and pulled out a cigarette and started strolling towards the exit.

That's when he saw Sleepy charging out of the Chief's office, carrying the keys. Right, well Eddie guessed it was time for business. He walked towards his partner and spoke, "So what was the Chief on about? Think he'll call me in regarding the new report about that dwarf who eating those missing cats completely whole?"

Alissa was all sorts of uncomfortable.

First there was the restlessness. The insufferable, endless urge to move, to prowl, to hunt. She'd been told before that this was to be expected, and that it was a sign that she was growing as a pup. However, that didn't make it any easier to bear. The human in her fought to control the urges, to reign them in, and on the whole it succeeded. However, that war within her head didn't make her any more comfortable staying still - in fact, it had quite the opposite effect.

However, she'd been living with the sensation for two weeks already, so it wasn't the main factor at play. No, that was the meeting she was attending. As the newest member of the pack, Alissa was completely uncomfortable being brought into the presence of so many higher-ups. The childish pup in her screamed that she was in trouble, and the human in her froze with nervousness. One misstep and she was toast, and her life with her boyfriend ruined.

The solemnity of the atmosphere also served to put her on edge. She honestly had no idea why she had been called in to participate in so important a matter, but that mattered little at this point. Here she was, and here she would stay.

The smell of garlic made Alissa's eyes and mouth water as Bastian set the pizza onto the table. As it was her first important meeting, Alissa incorrectly assumed the pizza was for his enjoyment only, and her desire to keep a strong and cool front stopped her from asking for a slice. She even managed to keep her desire from showing outwardly!

As the important business was conducted, Alissa listened intently. The gravity of the situation made each word resound within her mind. Soon, though, a question joined the resounding words, and it slowly grew within her.

Thus, when Bastian asked for questions, her mouth moved faster than her cool charade could prevent. In a voice somewhat more cheerful than it should have been, Alissa's question flowed out of her mouth and into the room: "Why haven't we asked the police to get involved?"

Shit. She blew it.

"I don't understand why I shouldn't come back? You're in danger there Adalaide. I can protect you if I'm actually there." Adalaide's closest sibling, her brother Francis, had called her exactly forty five minutes ago, and yet they were still on the phone and still basically on the same subject as what he opened with.

"Francis I will say this one more time and this time I expect you to listen to me. By myself, I am safer than if any member of our family were here. If you were here, instead of focusing on protecting myself, I would be focusing on protecting you and vise versa on you protecting yourself. I need to be here, you do not and by being here you would just put an unnecessary target on your back. Enjoy Milan brother, it's truly a beautiful city and I worry you're not benefiting as much as you could be. I'll keep you updated with this situation, I promise. Give all my love to mother and Aunt Annalise." Adalaide gave her final word and Francis sighed before giving in to her argument.

"Fine sister, if you think you know best then I will trust you, but at the first sign you're in trouble I'm coming back to New York and dragging you out of there kicking and screaming if I have to. Do you understand me Adalaide?" Francis and Adalaide managed to get off the phone with the call coming in just under an hour.

"We've arrived ma'am." Adalaide smiled appreciatively at her driver, Thomas. He had been her driver for 25 years now, and she paid him generously for his secrecy. She also paid him for doing things like knowing when she was about to end a call and arriving at their destination just as she finishes.
"Thank you Thomas. I don't know how long I'll be so just go home. I'll see you tomorrow." Adalaide smiled at him as she exited her car and made her way to the door of the bar. She flashed her fangs at the guard before entering. She didn't immediately join Anya and what looked like Norman Perry, mostly because she didn't particularly enjoy either of their company. She came because she knew her particular skills would be needed eventually and she wasn't one to avoid the inevitable for an extended period of time.

After she lingered for a smidge under rude, Adalaide joined Anya and Perry at the bar.
"Cognac, neat please." Adalaide asked the bartender as she sat on a barstool. She made eye contact with both Anya and Perry.
"Why am I here? I'm not a fighter, I'm a mediator and if he's here, I have a feeling you're not in a mood to talk with anyone." Adalaide raised an eyebrow at Anya, since she was the one to call the meeting.

Hector Calava, who was seated at Bastian's left side, nodded thoughtfully. Letting the cops deal with this was reasonably close to standard procedure. Running headlong into a gang war was downright suicidal, especially compared to giving some choice hints to the police and giving them the information and motive they needed to put the boot to whoever's antagonizing them. At times, it was best to simply let nature take its course. However, this time was a bit different.

"Unfortunately," Hector said brusquely, "we may not have time to let the police figure this out for themselves."
Hector crossed his arms thoughtfully. "Whoever's doing this has got our colors and knows where we work. With all due respect, chalking it up to hunters or vampires is only one of many options-- it would be best to aim for the simplest answers first."

Hector held up one finger.
"Either we got some goons knuckling in on our territory," Hector held up a second finger. "Or we got someone on the inside."

Hector didn't bother to look around the room for anyone's reactions. That avenue of investigation generally did nothing to score a reliable conviction. He spoke up again, matter-of-factly.

"I say we should mount an investigation. Check out the crime scenes and find out how they happened, and decide who's doing this from there."

Anya had simply continued to watch the patrons of the bar for quite some time, she was about ready to leave when Norman showed up. She arched a brow quizzically at him when he asked her about some plan, "Plan? Uh...I was about to..go home and take a shower..maybe?" She told him, confused entirely.

What plan? she thought to herself. Things got increasingly more confusing when Adalaide asked why she had been called her. "Uh...." Anya started. What plan? Why are they asking me for a plan...I thought they just came by to say hi..uh...Shit gotta think of something. She thought to herself.

Did I call them here and just forgot?.... "Um..right..the uh..plan and reason I called you guys here." She began nervously, staring at her drink and sloshing the contents around absent mindedly.

"Um..well....I was going to..ask for your opinions?" She said, half smiling, her face red in embarrasment. "Uh..I..I'll be honest. I don't remember even calling you here. I'm not sure if I did or not." She finished laughing nervously.

"Buuuut. Asking for your opinions does sound like the most solid thing to do..so...opinions?" She asked, looking between the two. She absolutely hated being the center of attention, she would have never called a meeting by herself, the question remained who did?

Outside the Zone, several rooftops away, was a shadowy figure in a long coat watching who entered and who left the Zone. "Everything is going according to plan..." The man spoke with a rough voice, a grin plastered across his face.

His cellphone rang and he answered, "Silver Moon is currently in a meeting, confirmed." The mans grin grew wider, things were all going to plan, and quite perfectly so. "Set the charges for 10 minutes and activate them, be sure to send me a picture of the fireworks." The man replied, closing his old burner phone and pulling out a small detonator.

With a press of the button on top, 10 bricks of C4 hidden around the Zone were activated. What the explosion didn't kill, he would move in to mop up.

Bastian let out a long, deep laugh at Alissa's suggestion.

"Ahahaha! Still getting acclimated, I see. Hector's right. Even if we could ask the pigs for help, they'd take far too long to dig anything up. It's also true we need to mount an investigation. And though it pains me to say this..." the werewolf's face grew solemn. He instinctively reached for a cigarette, before stopping himself and entwining his fingers.
"Alissa, you're a pup, and your face isn't known. This layer of anonymity makes you perfect for spying. The leeches know my face, otherwise I'd do it myself. I'd like to send Hector, but his reputation rivals my own. Still..." he leaned back.

"She'll be vulnerable by herself. Eavesdropping and spying would be safest if Alissa took the lead, posing as whatever alias she needed. Hector could tag along in case it goes south. Obviously, you should both keep your identities hidden, but if Hector's recognized talking to her in public... try to pass her off as your human friend. Or girlfriend; it doesn't matter as long as you keep your stories straight."

For a moment the world was on fire.

There was no sign of the Zone's bouncer, instead the entrance he guarded was now a burning pile of rubble. It was not so much the explosion that proved to be near deadly. Rather the debris made of concrete, metal and glass could easily cut through human tissue.

Sindile was a bloody mess. His ears rang from the deafening blast and his vision was clouded from a mix of dust and smoke. His body ached from lacerations, and shrapnel caused a sharp pain in his lower abdomen. An elongated metal object had impaled him, no bigger than the size of his forearm. With a shameless shriek of mind-numbing pain, Sindile yanked it off and angrily tossed it aside. He took a moment to breathe, waiting for the pain to subside. He rolled to the side first, getting a better view of the horror before him.

This was no hell, but it's the closest anyone could get in this world. As luck would have it, Sindile was outside the bar, having been vehemently denied admission to the Zone because of his race. Sindile recalled the brute's savage racial insults, wondering now of the fate of the sunglasses-wearing tall numb skull. Sindile crawled toward the damage, having realized that the explosion threw him at quite the distance. The pain was beginning to diminish as his Sanguinist lineage began the slow healing process. He stood this time and gingerly walked towards the Zone. He prayed he would find survivors. As a Sanguinist, he could feed them and never die from blood loss. Hopefully his open wounds could be detected, at least by those who were fortunate enough to endure.

"Is anyone alive?" He called out.

God help them. Everyone will be crying for blood.

Norman tilted his head a bit to the right when he saw the confused look on Anya's face. She went on about a shower, something that struck Norman as odd for this kind of meeting. To make the situation more confusing a familiar voice ordered a cognac behind him. Norman turned his head around to see if he was correct in his assumption. When it was indeed Adalaide who had showed up to the meeting he let out a soft, "What the...", under his breath. Adalaide was right, the odds of the two of them working on something together was slim, very slim. Anya still seemed as confused as before. Now she went on about opinions. Norman's mouth fell half open en his face got stuck in a puzzled look. Something was off, wrong even. A *beep* went through the bar, something Norman had heard several times in earlier situations. "Fuuu...", was all he could get out before the explosion knocked him away.

As Norman woke up he regained his vision. His ears were still ringing and he was in pain. He felt that something heavy had crushed his legs and the rest of his body was also stuck under rubble. Some places on his body were burned. Norman could get his hand under his chest and tried to push upward. Little by little he got further up, until he felt he got stuck because of his legs. He went back down focused and started the reconstruction of the bones in his legs. A painful task, but it worked and he was able to push himself further up and free his legs. With legs under him he was able to exert enough force to break through the debris and get out from under it. As soon as he got out of the deathtrap they had been put in another sensation took a hold of him... Blood! He could smell it as his eyes found Sindile.

"You!" Norman called out, as he tried to walk over to the Sanguinist. His legs still unsure and his balance not fully regained he fell and tumbled down the pile of rubble. He crawled back up, "You, Sanguinist, get over here!". Norman staggered the last part over to the young man and fed. He could feel his focus increasing, his wounds healing and the pain subsiding. When he was done he forced his claws out and started digging for the other two vampires.

"The Cobain case, actually. 'Parently the commissioner's been all over his ass about us, so's we gotta keep things quiet this week.", he tossed Eddie the keys, "Anyway, we's gonna have ta pick up the DeSoto down at the impound again. Hope they ain't jimmied the trunk dis time. Any new leads on that Chinatown case a' yours?"

Sleepy didn't have all the details, but from the looks of things Eddie's most recent case might end up being their problem after all. Six victims so far, all found with odd, consistently-spaced bruises to the upper torso that looked as if vice clamps had been attached to either side of the victim's collarbone.

Notably, none of the victims were actually dead. Their vitals were fine, and none of their organs showed any signs of damage. When hooked up to an EEG machine, though, they showed no signs of brain activity past maintaining basic vital functions. Somehow, these people had been rendered drooling vegetables without any obvious outside interference.

Finally, according to what Sleepy had overheard, two of the victims had ties to one of the local triads. Said triad, known as the Black Turtle Gang, was also rumored to be making a move on the Chinatown protection rackets. Whatever it was, Sleepy didn't like it one bit.

Eddie shook his head as he grumbled a bit. "I hate having turning in those reports late." As the keys were tossed in his direction, Eddie caught them and placed them in his jacket pocket and swapped them for a cigarette and his lighter. "Suppose I'm gonna have to. And you'd think they won't, but seems every time we get their, something got scratched up."

The officer put the cigarette in his mouth and lit it up. Taking a drag off of his cigarette, he blew a bit of smoke off to the side.

Eddie glanced towards Sleepy and smiled. "Swore ya weren't gonna ask. Got a weirdo who may provide a lead, y'know that bastard in the costume? Yeah well he was stumblin' around that gift-shop called Moon Lotus or somethin' like that. Same vicinity where victim four was down. Bastard was drugged outta his mind. But more importantly that suit was glued on tighter than Tom Brady's cheating grip on those deflated balls. Gonna interrogate the suspect after he had some time to recuperate."

He took another drag of his cigarette before flicking some of the ash off. "Though before he went down, mentioned something about pay. Thinking about doing a stake-out in the area."

"Course we're gonna need our squad-car before that." Eddie remarked as he dropped tossed the remains of his cigarette into a nearby trash-bin.

Aleksandri was on her way to the zone carrying a new shipment of blood for the bar in a large suitcase filled with ice packs to keep them cool. "I know I'm strong but I'm not a trolley or delivery person" she thought to herself before she heaved the suitcase up a set of steps from the subway, though didn't show any signs of strain as the case was hoisted above her head.

All of a sudden a man walked up behind her "Hey what's a young lass like you doing here?" He said as he smoothly slid in front of Aleksandri in an attempt to slow her down, "Damnit!" Aleksandri cursed under her breath before sighing looking up at the man. "Отвали (piss off)" she said in Russian while trying to play the busy foreiner card but the man didn't take the hint and pressed on, "oh an exotic beauty huh well let me show you aro-" Aleksandri cut him off as she began walking away shaking her head "Отвали, Я занят" she called before turning a corner and sinking into a shadowed doorway.

Aleksandri finally made her way to a block away from the Zone before she heard the explosion and rushed down the street and made it just in time to see the dust cloud settle, "Что, черт возьми, здесь произошло!? (What the hell happened here!?)" She yelled before dropping the suitcase filled with blood and ice and ran full speed into the building.

When she got there she spotted Norman clawing through rubble frantically looking for something, "Who else was here?" She asked before lifting a blood bag and drinking it all feeling strength course through her body, after this she grabbed a large price of rubble and lifting it up to lean it against a wall already looking.

Adalaide glanced at Norman and Anya before she put her drink down.
"We need to leave, right now." She said, but she heard the beep and she knew it was too late. She threw herself at Anya and over the counter, sliding underneath. She tucked herself into a ball as it started raining down concreet. A large block fell on her, cracking as she was more durable than it. After the debris stopped falling and it sounded like there were others getting up, Adalaide braced her back and pushed up out of the concrete.
"God damnit." Adalaide muttered as she stood up, brushing off dust from her person.
"This is never going to wash." Adalaide sighed as she saw Norman feeding from the sanguinist. She made her way over there, albeit a little awkwardly as she was pretty banged up.

"I apologize for this love." She said to him first before she grabbed his wrist and bit. As the blood hit her tongue she could already feel herself starting to heal. Bones fusing together, tendons going back into place. Once she had her fill she released the Sanguinist.
"Thank you for that, it was well needed." She then followed in Norman's lead, looking for others who were trapped by the wreckage. She also took out her phone and dialed Bastian's number. She needed to know if this was their work or not.

Anya looked nervously between the two. Yea...they think I'm dumb now...She thought to herself. "I..uh..sorry?" She said, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. "I..really don't remembe-" And then everything went to hell at once. She heard a faint *beep* and in an instant everything started exploding and she was grabbed by Adalaide and summarily hauled over the counter and shielded from the rubble.

Anya was mildly injured by the blast, nothing major, just a few burns and scrapes thanks to Adalaide shielding her from the blast and rubble. Anya was about to ask if she was okay, but considering she stood and shrugged the rubble off she was going to assume the answer was yes, at-least for now.

Still a bit shaky from the frightening experience of almost getting blown up, Anya stood. "I-is everyone alright?" She called out to Norman and Adalaide. It would seem most of the bars patrons had gotten out in time, which was good. The bouncer however, was not so lucky. Anya sighed, Robert was a good friend, she called him Bob.

Anya clambered over the rubble and what remained of the bar and walked over to the four, her very minor wounds already healed. "Thank you, Adalaide" Anya told her, hugging her. It was quite possible if Adalaide hadn't helped Anya she would've been easily crushed and killed by the large chunk of cement that was laying over where she was sitting.

"Is everyone alright?" She asked, gesturing between Aleksandri, Sindle, Norman, and Adalaide.
----
Meanwhile, Ronin was watching the heart-warming scene un-fold below him. It was obvious that Anya was a bit shaken up from the whole ordeal, and she and Norman happened to be Ronin's main targets, everyone else that had shown up was just an added bonus. And as luck would have it, Norman seemed injured. At-least for now. Damned Sanguinist, I should've gotten rid of the last of you. Yet, here you are, still alive. No matter, you won't be for long. Ronin thought to himself, a grimace on his face.

Ronin leapt from his perch, landing on a car to break his fall. "Hope they had insurance..." he muttered under his breath before walking over to his little playfield. Take care of the injured and the little girl first, then the Sanguinist. The rest are optional. he thought to himself. Clearing his throat loudly he spoke, "Why, what do we have here? Feeding time at the local zoo, is it?" Ronin spoke, a psychotic grin on his face, chuckling lowly.

Anya instinctively backed away from Ronin, drawing her blades. She'd heard of him, myths and stories really, she didn't think he actually exsisted. Her eyes widened in fear, "So..you were the one that blew up the bar." She spoke, nervously. "And? What if I am, hm?" Ronin asked, grinning before the little group of bloodsuckers that lie before him.

Ol' Smithy sighed as he kept walking through the alley. He mentally checked his daily task list before continuing. He had done the requests on his workshop, bought some grub for the halfbreed kids, and some blood for himself which he promptly drank. He had done his daily meditation and training, as well as fixing some radio that had been giving trouble on a strip club. The old vampire was still bored, as the hours crawled slowly through his mind. He had briefly considered pulling a prank on Bastian, like slipping a whoopee cushion on the proud werewolf's chair. Or on one of the vampire elders. Although a better idea formed in his mind. He hated a lot of the guts of his kin, but he could still appreciate the flavour of a good blood-laced drink.

He looked his reflection in a puddle. He was a bloody hobo. It could get tricky to get in The Zone to pick up some drinks and conversation... It looked like the night was going to be boring.

And then he wished he hadn't thought that, as a loud explosion brought him to his senses. "Er, i didn't mean this kind of fun tonight. Damnit." He cursed under his breath, watching the events unfold. The Zone was part of the Blackbloods turf, so whomever did this was aiming big or was just an idiot. Several of the survivors crawled out, and then some ninja-slash-car busting-slash-vigilante knockoff guy arrived at the scene, taunting the vampires. He normally didn't deal in Blackblood turf nor he took sides, but hey, those three girls looked like they needed some more help. The guy was packing quite some worrisome bladed weapon.

He decided to step out of the alley. "Good evening." He said to everyone involved. "I heard you've got a bad case of a dancefloor exploding and killing people, followed by raining mysterious people who like to taunt ladies while they're down. Do you need my assistance, Blackbloods? I recycle trash."

Norman saw Aleksandri join him, her mouth was moving. Norman couldn't exactly make out what she was saying, his ears still ringing, but he assumed it was about the others inside. "Maybe one or two more vampires," he answered, the young vampire was completely oblivious to half of his own family and didn't know any names. Nothing was moving in the rubble. He stopped digging for a bit and took a look at the rubble. "Nevermind this, they're goners..." Norman spoke, "We're fine, Anya." He told the little girl, Norman wasn't sure if she needed to be comforted more. Before he could give this more thought a loud crash drew his attention. Some guy had jumped down from a building and landed on a car. Norman's face got the puzzled look again and his mouth fell half open. 'Feeding time at the local zoo', Norman thought and tilted his head a tad to the side. Norman quickly put two and two together and Anya wanted to know the same thing. The man apperently blew up the bar and by his stupid grin Norman could tell it wasn't the first time. There he was, taunting and baited, on a silver platter, ripe for the slaughter.

"My friend..." Norman told the guy and pointing at the bar, "You've got is-sues!" But good thing he was finally here. Norman was still pissed for not being involved in this whole scheme. It was always the same thing with that kind of type, everything went well until it went wrong. And Norman knew that carjumper bit off a bit more than he could chew. Another voice arose from out of an alley, Norman once again: puzzled look and mouth half open. Norman chuckled when the guy spoke about dancefloors exploding, if only he knew. This guy wanted to recycle thrash, he looked confident enough. From his get-up Norman gathered that the man spend a lot of time around thrash. "Yeah, hold him down, then I'll suck him dry and cut off his head." Norman told the newcommer as he took a couple of steps forward. Let's see what carjumper is made off. Norman was going to enjoy this.

Adalaide immediately hung up when she saw Ronin, angling herself in front of Anya instinctively.
"You have a lot of nerve to show up here, there are many at play and most a lot more powerful then you. If you have issue, state it so we can resolve it peaceful. You've already caused so much death tonight, there's no reason for your death to join the list." Adalaide said, looking into is eyes and putting as much persuasion as she could into her voice. She didn't think it would work though, so she didn't hold her breath for that solution. Her concentration was broke by the arrival of Hadrian anyways. Adalaide hadn't known he was in the states, let alone New York. Then he started talking and it only confused her.

"Hadrian, you cannot recycle trash. You can incinerate trash, or you can leave it to rot but you cannot recycle it. Either way, there is a reason he blew up this bar, and I personally would like to know why since I'm assuming he was the one to invite us tonight, and not Anya." Adalaide said, feeling like something was on the tip of her tongue. She ran her tongue along the back of her teeth as she thought about it.

"Take out the trash! That is the expression I am looking for, you can take out the trash. Although, Hadrian, have you been living on the streets?" Adalaide raised an eyebrow at him, completely turning her visual focus to the newest comer. She knew Hadrian wasn't her biggest fan and despite there being a psychopathic vampire apparently hellbent on their destruction right there, she couldn't resist annoying him slightly.