---

Having completed preping his normal station, Tholo looked at the time on a clock that hung on one of the oiled stained walls of the shop. Seeing how he still had some time to kill before the business would be up and ready he decided that he could use at least another cup of coffee. He left the shop locking the door before walking down the street a ways before entering Coffee Central. While he wasn't a regular, Tholo liked to think he came by enough to at least be somewhat familiar. His order hardly took long, it was alsways the same, just straight black coffee. While the repair shop did have a break room with it's own coffee maker, most of the time it tasted awful and half the time it just seemed to not work.

Once getting his cup of coffee he sat down at an open booth grabbing a free paper to look over the latest news in the town. Of course the disappearances were at the top of the paper but he decided to skim over that instead of focusing on it. Looking out the window, it still somewhat surprised him how many stalls were going up so early in the day. A part of him felt disappointed he wouldn't be able to make it during the night but safety was more important then risk turning in the middle of the town.

Cursing under her breath, Kayley quickly rummaged through her dresser for her workout clothes.So foolish. How could she have been so irresponsible? She had been so focused on the unsolved murder case, she had completely forgotten about her Guardian Auxiliary duties and their mandatory workout that morning. She smacked her forehead in frustration. Rickard, the Captain of Guardian Auxiliaries, and her own squad leader, Liam, were furious. Kayley was also enraged at her actions. This should never have happened.

Racing to throw on simple, black shorts and white tank top, she hurried over to meet back with Liam and Rickard. Not only were they punishing her with an extreme workout, she was also assigned to clean up all of the excess trash around the courtyard. These punishments were nothing compared to the weeks of mental torture Kayley would put herself through. She would work even harder, study every moment she was free, she wouldn’t forgive herself until she passed out from exhaustion. Rickard and Liam were chatting when Kayley finally arrived.

“Warm up with some laps. I’ll let you know when you can stop,” Liam said, a scowl still on his face.

“Okay,” She affirmed before heading to the track.

Starting off with a light jog, she eventually picked up her speed. She started to feel her muscles tense but continued speeding up. All of this, the burn she was beginning to feel, the soreness she would feel tomorrow, she deserved it all. Each lap finished motivated her to go faster. She forced herself to remember her promise and vow to her parents, to remember the night that haunted her dreams, why she wanted to become a Guardian in the first place. There was no excuse for being irresponsible. She couldn’t afford to rest and lose track of her goal. All of this was for the two people she loved more than anything. The night her parents died replayed through her mind for the thousandth time. She couldn’t move. All she could do was watch as the merciless monsters cut off her mother’s horn, watch as they plunged a knife into her father’s majestic body. Once. Twice. Five times. Ten. Twenty. “No! You can’t!” She screamed with her whole body. “Stop!”

She suddenly felt strong arms shake her. Blinking several times, Kayley realized the arms had belonged to Rickard, and they were both sitting on the ground. Liam stood closely behind. She met both of their widened eyes. What happened? Her face felt wet, and she discovered she had been crying.

“Kayley, what’s going on?” Rickard firmly asked. Still in a daze, she was unable to open her mouth.

“Kayley?” Liam echoed his concern.


“I..I don’t know. What happened?” She asked, wiping away her tears.

“You were sprinting your laps. You ran maybe twenty before you started screaming and shortly after, you collapsed,” Rickard said.

Kayley rubbed her forehead. She wasn’t sure how to respond. What was going on with her? If others found out about her past, she’d be endangered.

“I’m sorry, I’m fine. Let’s keep going,” She said at last.

“No, I think we’re done here,” Rickard said.

“What?”

“You still need to go and pick up all the trash in the courtyard. Don’t miss our workout again, Kayley.” Rickard glanced at her before walking off, leaving her and Liam alone.

“Kayley, what’s going on with you?” Liam asked.

“Nothing is wrong. I won’t miss it again.” Kayley took a deep breath and stood up. She needed to get out of here quickly.

“What were you thinking about that made you scream? Something is clearly going on.”

“I said, I am fine. Rickard said I need to clean the courtyard.” She waited for Liam’s nod before walking hurriedly away.

---

Kayley grabbed all of the necessary supplies she needed, trash bags, gloves, etc. She ignored the pain of her sore legs. Part of her was still shaken up over the event that had occurred shortly before, but she kept going.The path she was on was for her loved ones, and she would continue walking it.

Arriving at the Grand Courtyard, she immediately noticed bright orange fliers covering the ground. Sighing heavily, she began the process of throwing them into her bag. This would take all day.

Tony interacting with: @Sazama

---

Tony rolled his eyes, moving his whole head with it to exaggerate the movement. The usual give and take between the two was ca competition of teasing and jabs. Business as usual, all things considered. It was an unlikely friendship, most Guardians applicants were either too busy, or too proud of themselves to be caught belting backstreet boys at the top of their lungs at the Tipsy Dragon, but fastfoward a few months, and 'Everybody' was one of Tony and Anya's goto songs when they were drunk off their rockers.

"hah hah," Tommy replied sarcastically, "I'll have you know I only got my ass kicked once today, but if you had to fight Hercules2.0 you'd get your ass handed to you too."

Tony rubbed at his shoulder, massaging out the bruises and the hurt ego from the earlier workout session. Rickard had really done a number on him earlier today. A couple Guardians recruiters from the London institute had been making the rounds, and many of the Auxiliaries, including Rickard, were keen on making themselves look good for the recruiters. Not that Tony himself hadn't partaken in the increased competitiveness between his comrades- he'd landed a few pretty nasty shots on some other cadets too, but Rickard really didn't mess around, not even with his friends. Tony was pretty set as far as Guardian training went- his grades were good, his physical and mental assessments checked out well, all he needed was a recommendation from another Guardian- aside from his father. But that was harder than it seemed- Professor Bianchi never told anyone whether or not he was writing them a recommendation, and Mr. Évora was of course, not allowed to play favorites and as a principle did not write recommendations for any of his students.

"Anyways Jansport, plans for tonight?" he asked, waving the flier in his hand casually. "The Fitzroys are dicks, but at least the alcohol is cheap. Penn and the others are going too," he added, mentioning the rest of their rather small group of karaoke regulars.

@Helo

Terry looked up sharply at the announcement of the deputy, quickly stubbing out his cigarette as he tried to look semi-professional after his little negotiation with Jack. He waved the hunter off briefly before he turned back to the deputy; Tall, thin and Black, and probably a lifer if his last few years on the force were anything to go by.

"Thanks, Reggie. I'll take him from here." Reggie for his part looked glad to be rid of this skinny White boy, and Terry couldn't blame him. He looked like the lovechild of Hannibal Lector and Ted Bundy with a sprinkle of kiddy-diddler to complete the look. The detective was already more than a little wary of this guy. He took a moment to light up his third cigarette in half an hour before he looked back over toward the deputy. "And tell Sheriff Renshaw I think we oughta send Sharpes and Deych down to the Tula Ranch."

"Got it, Chief." Reggie said before he walked off to get as far away from the diddler as he could. Terry sighed then, pinching the bridge of his nose before he looked up to the man.

"As you probably know already I'm Detective Terrence Archeletta. And you probably also know that I got my own methods for...getting unorthodox answers." He took a long drag on his cigarette then. "So why don't you explain to me why I should bring you in on this? I got too many people that already know about this shit as is. This is a police investigation."

It was a moment later that he realized what it was that felt....off about this man. He reeked of undeath, was a little too pale for a normal man, and those eyes, that predatory glint.

"Listen, pal, licks aren't exactly popular around here these days. Jack is one thing, but bringing a vampire in on an investigation like this would put the town into conniption fits." Terry's frown was thin and tight, pressed so closely together that he might have been making diamonds out of his teeth. "I'm gonna need a really good reason to humor you on this."

Jack silently followed Archelleta's gesture and left the office, leaving Terry and the weirdo Ivan alone. With all those crazy things happening in town, a psychic was just another color in the weirdo aliens palette and he could be a helpful one, but that was for Archeletta to decide. The only thing Jaack hoped for is that Archeletta wouldn't think something funny like sending them together on a mission. Jack had his fair share of troubles when he hung out with other people, to have the luxury of acquainting himself with new people.

Another cigarette was a must as soon as Jack exited the police department, after ignoring the poor deputy's irritated glare. Jack liked colder seasons, so a trip to Ruxbury in Fall would be nice, if investigating alien serial murders was not involved and it was just a solo drinking-your-liver-dead-in-different-bars trip. Well, beggars can't be choosers. However, Jack needed two things to take care of before going. Finding convenient transport and seeing his father off. Luckily, he would do both in one go.

Jack had a fight with his father, so they didn't see each other for the past two days. But, while not particulary afraid of any possible danger during his assignments, Jack was concerned with seeing his Pa before going. For all he knew, he could die by some weird alien coming out of his stomach and he would regret if he was not in good terms with Pa.

He slowly walked towards Greely's, the bar that, for Jack was a second home. It was where Jack spent most of his after school time when he was a kid (despite his father's protest that he shouldn't be there) and the place he practically lived in after he dropped out of school. His original plan to work there went down the drain, though, because of his short temper towards clients who were causing a ruckus.

He spent his time thinking what to say to him on his way there and ended up deciding that maybe a hug would be a good idea. Fifteen minutes later, he was in front of the bar door. His father was probably preparing things to open the bar in the evening, so no one else should be inside. He put of the cigarette and entered the bar.

The bar had its usual, dusty and not so clean appearance, a shadow of how the bar was before his mother's death, at least from what he heard. At the time, Greely's was a wonderful bar, a place where people would enjoy delicious cocktails in peace or come for a romantic date drinking good wine. His father was a proud bartender, a master cocktail-maker and a man with high standards for his job. Helena Greely's death took a toll on John Greely, though, who now ran a messy bar, whose clients were the town's alcoholics. It was probably because Jack knew about this place's past glory that he was usually angry with the disrespect it's clients would show from time to time.

His father was at the bar counter, polishing the bottles, probably the only part of the bar that would always be spotless clean, along with the drinking glasses, which Jack believed was his father's last flame of dedication towards his job. A 63 year-old man, his tired mind was reflected to the more than the usual wrinkles on his face. As far as Jack could remember, he has never seen this man's smile be genuine or not tired. His body, as it was now, was the perfect container for a saddened soul, such as his and the gift wrap was a not-crefully ironed white shirt with a waistcoat worn over it, along with an old pair of blacjtrousers and unpolished black shoes. The old man, respinding to the door's closing sound, turned to his adoptive son, then nonchalantly turned back to the bottle storage shelves.

"We are still closed, if you wanrt a drink, the story opens by 7."

His father's attitude, sent Jack's eagerness for some family moments flying through the window.

"I don't need your permission to enter the store, old man. I am taking the bike, some Ardbeg and I will be lending myself some cash. I am going to Ruxbury for a job, so I will return the money soon.".

Jack entered the bar counter and grabbed an Ardbeg whiskey bottle. It was one his favorite brands, the peat process the Islay island whiskey distilleries are known for using, giving it a smokey taste that Jack enjoyed. He filled his flask with the beverage and then he opened a drawer and grabbed what appeared to be keys and a couple hundred bucks.

"Se you later old man and...", ...be careful while I'm gone was what Jack wanted to say, "...clean this dump a little better, you serve customers for fucks sake..."

"Son, whatever you do, be careful. And it's chilly now, so dress well and be careful not to catch a cold."

His father's unexpected words stopped Jack on his tracks for a mere moment, but he quickly regained his composure.

"I will...", he replied as he opened the bar's door once more, this time to leave.

Jack took a good sip of whiskey from his flash, lit another cigarette and headed to a small, locked, wooden shack next to the bar. He used one of the keys he took from Greely's on the shack's lock. Inside there was a 1965 Harley Davidson chopper, which, despite its age, was very carefully conditioned. It was probably the only kind of motorbike in the world that Jack knew how to condition and mechanically take care off, as it was Jack's only hobby. The bike was his father's and it was still perfectly functioning until today.

He started the vechile's engine. He would wait for the engine to run a bit and finish his cigarette before leaving for Ruxbury.

@Argetlam350



Dimitri sipped his tea for a bit while contemplating his next move. He was supposed to be looking for work today. Mundane, non-artistic work. He might as well apply here at the coffee shop for all that it was worth to him. He only really needed money to maintain his lifestyle. Eating was a once a year game between himself, and the most heinous sort of criminal thug that he could find. (One thing that his real mother and his dad had always agreed on was that-only eat those who are harmful to other humans.) So his expenses consisted of mainly art supplies, cell phone bills, wardrobe upkeep, keeping his truck in working order, and buying drinks for pretty girls. Just the important things. But he just couldn't see himself working in a place like this. He really did get advice from Circe to try the library. But he was also being blackmailed into attending a party tonight. So he should probably go get a costume.

He got up, threw his cup away, and decisively walked out the door. About three minutes or so went by when the decisive man came right back into the cafe. His truck wasn't starting, and whatever was preventing it exceeded his knowledge of engines.

"Excuse me" He cleared his throat and asked the people inside if they could point him in the direction of a mechanic. Of course, he was using the term to refer to a garage where a mechanic would work at. But as it happened, a number of fingers went up singled out a bearded, lone wolf type reading a paper in out of the booths. It figured. He looked like a mechanic. Nothing in particular made that so. It was just that his look fit very well with what Dee expected a mechanic to look like.

So he walked up to the fellow, and once again using his indoor voice, said humbly "Hi. I'm Dimitri. And I take it you're a mechanic?"

-

@Arachnid0

---

Going through the latest news and checking the weather, Tholo hadn't noticed the other patrons point towards him when some unlucky fellow asked about a mechanic. Normally he had no need to be alert at Coffee Central, most who entered the shop he considered harmless or at least not trying to kill him. That was why he was somewhat surprised by the sudden voice asking if he was a mechanic. He looked up from his paper to see a younger man, who had stated his name was Dimitri. Tholo didn't think he knew him, or at least had never seen him around town. Of course Tholo did spend most of his time either at home or the shop for the past several years, which only help remind him that he needed to get out more, at least after the festival was over and work on his social skills.

"Yeah, what of it?" Tholo asked gruffly, folding the paper and putting it down ",Car trouble?" He took a drink of his coffee as he waited for a response all the while on alert. While he didn't think that Dimitri was a shifter, he didn't want to take chances, he had underestimated shifters before with varying results and had learned it was best to always be on alert until he knew he could trust the other party.

"Bartholomew by the way, Tholo for short," he added as an afterthought about how his previous gruff demeanor might give the wrong impression. The day before the night of the full moon didn't help with his emotions and normally made him irritable at just about everything and he had to constantly remind himself that no one was trying to pick a fight when they talked to him.

---

It was obvious that Alice was surprised by Valon reveal and subsequent apology. She tried to hide her grin though as he walked out of her store. He was and odd duck, but he didn’t seem too bad. She let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. Maybe that’s how he figured out she wasn’t human. Keen observation she hadn’t been breathing. Oops. She rolled her, and mentally chastised herself for being careless.

Getting back to work was pointless in her opinion. Nina would be in soon to take over for the day. Alice usually only opened the store, and came in when Nina called for help authenticating an item or unlocking the safe. Alice swept her hair over her shoulder and waited for the distinct sound of Nina’s sad blue truck, which was on its last legs. Why the woman didn’t buy a new car with what Alice was paying her made zero sense to Alice.

This morning had turned out to not be as simple and bland as usual. Thanks to Valon and his…associate? She knew most of the local stationed Guardians, and the old man Calvin was not one of them if she was remembering correctly. There was about twenty of them that worked assignment in the New England region. There was also a handful of Rover Guardians that roamed around here.

Alice opened the fancy stained glass door, behind the store counter. She went into the brake room that held the more magical antiques in the store. Things like charmed flying carpets, haunted paintings, and cursed dolls ended up piled in the back room, until she had someone come and unspell them. It was also where she stored her blood bags in a locked mini fridge next to the coffee maker. The velvet green couch and desked piled under papers were meant to be a place for her employees to relax but, the place was a cluttered mess.

She unlocked the padlock on the mini fridge and took out an O+ bag and a can of seltzer water. The cold bags of blood she obtained from a source at Ruxbury hospital had the unfortunate additive of anticoagulants. If you asked any vampire they preferred warm blood, fresh from an artery. But she had been drinking from blood bag for over twenty years now. To be honest the taste didn’t grow on you… She grabbed a mug from cabinet above the coffee machine and filled it half with blood, and half with seltzer. It was the only mix that made it slightly tolerable besides pouring copious amounts of liquor into it. She really didn’t feel like getting smashed so early in the morning so seltzer is was. If anyone looked at the contents in the mug is resembled dark red wine. With a sigh, Alice chugged the mug of cold carbonated blood down.

She was washing out the mug in the tiny sink, when she heard Nina’s truck parking in front of the store. Alice quickly dried off the mug and placed it back in the cabinet before coming out of the back room to greet her. Nina came in with her youngest son in tow. “He has the flu, and Carl had to be at work today. Sorry Alice.” Nina said apologetically as she scrambled through her tote for tissues. Alice looked at Nina, thought about the condition of the back room, and wrinkled her nose. The place was not exactly safe for a sick five year old boy to rest in. “I can call and see if Charlie can take your shift. If not we can just close for the day, it’s not a big deal. The brake room is not exactly set up for little Stanley here anyway.” Alice said to the woman, smiling at the five year old kid, who looked miserable with a red runny nose.

“Really that would be great. It’s just this is like the seventh time I’ve dropped my shift in like three weeks. You keep closing the place and I feel bad.” Nina said crouching down in front of Stanley to wipe the boogers off his face. “It’s not exactly antiquing season right now Nina, we get like three people coming in to browse a week. Our last sale was over a month ago, and it was another engagement ring. It’s fine, just take him home and give the poor kid some soup or something.” Alice said remembering when Etienne was that age. She grabbed her coat and keys to close up the store.

“Ok ok. How does that sound Stanley? We can watch Peppa Pig, and have some soup at home.” Nina said to her son, who just nodded and waited to be picked up. Nina propped him up on her hip and walked out of the shop with Alice right behind. She flipped the open sign to close, and then locked the door. “I hope you feel better soon Stanley. Listen to your mama so you can get better.” Alice said to him. He smiled shyly and hid his face in Nina’s shoulder. “Thanks Alice. I’ll see you Monday.” Nina said opening the door to her pickup truck, and placing Stanley in his booster seat. “Next time just call.” Alice said waving bye to Stanley, and his mother.

They drove away, and Alice put on her coat. She walked down the block waving and saying hello to the people who she knew. She’d only lived in Erehwon for two years, but the locals like to be friendly, and once she had established that she was sticking around, she became an honorary local too.

@The Whacko



Ivan could tell that this was not a man who would appreciate being lied to, and he was pretty relieved that the detective already figured out he was a vampire. Good, no charades or awkward stories about why he wanted in on the investigation. He preferred things this way, and Ivan casually took a seat in front of the man’s desk and took another drag on his cigarette. He was silent for a second, exhaled and savored the tobacco before he spoke.

“I can tell you’re a straight shooter so I won’t insult you with the psychic bullshit. You’ve got a good eye, I am a vampire, and I also happen to have very poor self-control. What can I say I eat when I’m bored.” Ivan explained with a glib tone. He snubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray on the desk before leaning back in the chair.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, I don’t mean it as a threat. I don’t want to add to the body count, I’m eight years sober, well in vampire terms at least. Just blood bags for me but I like to keep myself occupied so I don’t fall back into old habits. So here I am, offering to help, I mean you’ve got bodies stacking up, I doubt that lends to the public having much faith in the department as is. These murders are supernatural, no way is some mundane behind this. What do you think is gonna happen to your pal Paul Bunion’s gonna fair when he comes up against some vampire or demon? I’m guessing not well. Me, I can hold my own and if not you’ve got one less unpredictable vampire running around town. Plus, fun fact, vampire’s noses are way better than a bloodhound.” Ivan rambled, unnervingly chipper as he talked.

“I’ve done a lot in my past to make up for and this seems like as good of a place as any to start. I’m not saying you should trust me, I wouldn’t, but right now I’m interested in doing something good. I’m also interested in making sure this draw every hunter in hundred miles to the area, I have strong sense of self preservation and would really like to not experience death for a second time. So what’d’ya say, up for a slightly uncomfortable working relationship?” Ivan offered, if the detective said no he’d probably just follow the other guy with the beard around and cheat off his clues. Once Ivan got an idea into his head he could be pretty stubborn and right now hunting down dangerous supernaturals sounded like something fun to do.

As James got to Coffee Central, he was greeted by the wonderful scent of the elixir of the gods. Not the actual gods, but this wondrous liquid was what powered mundanes and even him on rough days. He managed to abstain from the addictive beverage while on vacation, but now that he was home… well the craving seemed to be back. Fortunately the line was short and he didn’t have to wait long to place his order.

“One Coffee, splash of cream, no sugar please.” He asked, setting a ten on the counter. “Sorry smallest bill I have.”

“That’s no problem. That’ll be right out. Here’s your change. Can I get a name?” The cashier asked.

“James. Thank you,” he replies. He stepped away from the counter and walked over towards the side and noticed the newspaper Bartholomew had. Then he overheard someone asking if Tholo was a mechanic. James smirked knowing that Tholo was a great mechanic, having fixed his truck more than a few times. James knew he didn’t need to interfere, nor did he feel particularly inclined to, but he still moved closer as he noticed a particular headline. There was another murder while he was away.

“Another one?” He scowled, backing away. This was bad. If hunters weren’t already looking into the situation in the area, they probably would be soon. He would definitely want to be prepared. Things were dangerous and if the murders weren’t solved soon, it was only going to get worse. Much worse. Memories from his first cycle flashes before his eyes, memories of war. He was only pulled out of it when he heard his name being called prompting him to step up to get his coffee. He sat down at a table near Bartholomew and began sipping at his coffee and taking deep breaths to try to slow his heart rate. ‘It won’t come to war, it won’t come to war’ He thought to himself, trying to calm down. He didn’t want to see another war first hand, having lost too many friends in World War Two. Granted most of those who died were lost either in Normandy when they stormed the beaches or after he was injured and sent home.

He sipped his coffee again and leaned back. He needed to think and he needed to prepare to make the offering… ‘The offering!’ He remembered, somewhat startling himself awake. He needed meats and fruits as well as a certain incense the name of which he was blanking on, but he would recognise the scent. He also wanted mead, but the only place to get good mead was nearly an hour away, and not open yet. He would have to go shopping, but it would have to wait until he dropped his stuff off at his house. He stood and walked toward the door, pausing for a second near Tholo to give a quick hello. He would make his way to his truck soon but he crisp fresh air was nice and he didn’t want to head home just yet, especially with the coffee working it’s way into his blood. He would just keep walking, maybe go to the park nearby for a bit and think.

@Argetlam350

---

Interacting with @vietmyke

Anya's face scrunches up as Tony waves the orange flyer in his hands.
"Bud light and Jungle Juice? I'd rather drink bleach." Being a part-time bartender, it was frowned upon to drink on the job. But on the busiest nights, she'll set aside a few draft beers for her to take a few swigs throughout the night.

"I'll go, it'll be good to spend some time out with friends." Something warms up inside of her at the mention of friends. The only thing she is afraid of, however, is that her sister might turn this night into just an errand for Anya. Which is why she has to avoid letting Amari know about the party. She kind of feels like a high schooler that's hiding a house party from their parents.

"Anyhow, I'll sneak a few beers from Tipsy Dragon for you guys. I won't let my friends drink piss water." Anya waved off as she had a potions class to attend for the day. She was particularly excited to be taking another class of Professor Mordecais'. The class met in the lecture hall at the beginning of class. After a brief talk about the day's chapter, they would move to the potions lab nextdoor. Whenever Anya was at Gringore but not in class, she would be found in the lab experimenting on potions.
Anya had a fixation with the art of potion making ever since she was a little girl. Which was no surprise when mixology came natural to her.

But the biggest thing about potion making for her, was because of DB. To make the drug itself involved ingrediants that required either the death of a certain race or blood. While Amari came to Nowhere specifically to start up her own drug empire, Anya had different intentions. She didn't want to see the suffering of other races for the greed and power the dragons craved. She wanted to change the game... make a version of DB which didn't involve other kinds of blood and sacrifices. It was a big challenge, but if she succeeded...it would put an end to all the blood farms and hunts that DB trade had caused.

@Argetlam350



"As a matter of fact, yeah. My truck won't start and I can't see anything wrong with the engine at first glance." Dimitri had all the body language of a straight talker. He had wore a mask of confidence, like many artists did. So he didn't really present any hostility at all. And on top of that, his tone of voice would betray a certain amount of affection for the vehicle in question. That said, he wouldn't smell human to any creature who knew how to tell the difference. He wouldn't smell like a wolf. Or a Vampire. It was an almost human sort of scent. But mingled with that of the small things that crawl, and burrow, and hide in plain sight. The ones too small to be worth noticing by an average mammalian predator. "Any chance you could come take a look at it? I was supposed to drive my sister out to some kind of celebration tonight."

The spiderlike demon was being entirely genuine. Completely oblivious, and ultimately apathetic towards the supernatural aspects the town's inhabitants, he was simply more interested what most might consider mundane concerns. His art, his truck, his "human" social life, these things were more magical to him than was his demonic nature. And if the mechanic would follow, he would lead him out the door, and down the block to where his truck was parked.

@Arachnid0
@Saint Girralo

---

Tholo gave a quick hello back to James as he left the coffee shop before returning to Dimitri's attention. Dimitri seemed to be honest and it was Tholo's job to fix cars so he decided to help Dimitri. "Well let's go take a look," Tholo said quickly drinking the rest of his coffee and getting up from the table to follow Dimitri out of Coffee Central. Once outside it was a bit easier to try and guess if Dimitri was human. While following him, Tholo took in his scent, but oddly couldn't decipher it. He smelled human but there was something underneath it, a more earthy scent he couldn't place. Tholo decided to figure it out later, at that moment however it didn't matter to much as Dimitri didn't seem to be a threat.

Walking down a block to Dimitri's truck. Once popping the hood, Tholo went about looking around the engine to determine why the truck wouldn't start. The simpliest of solutions would be the batter was dead but looking at the battery it seemed relatively new. Having Demitri make an attempt at starting the car, Tholo listened. The starter sounded to be all right, so he could rule that out. Next was listening for the fuel pump which sounded to be good and not going bad. Ideas went through Tholo's head on other causes for the truck not to run. There might of been a bad spark plug but he would rather be back at the shop to check that idea and even then a gut feeling told him that wasn't the problem.

Having one last option he could think of he had Demitri start the car again after removing the oil filler cap and looking inside to see the camshaft. While Demitri gave the key's a twist in the start, Tholo got his answer when the camshaft didn't move.

"Bingo! Found the problem, your timing belt is gone," Tholo said ",I can go get some tools to take it apart and replace the timing belt. Would take a couple of hours at most and cost about three hundred dollars to replace and have you up and running again."

(Insert timeskip when ready)

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After having fixed Dimitri's truck, Tholo had returned to the repair shop. The day had been a relatively slow day, with most people getting prepared for the festival. With the free time Tholo kept himself busy working on a project car, a 1934 Ford 3 Window Coupe Hot Rod. It was a long way from running but it kept his hands busy during the slow times which he needed especially as the full moon ticked closer every minute. The end of the work day couldn't have come fast enough. Due to the festival the shop closed early to allow everyone time to get ready for the festival. While most would be having a joyous night, Tholo only felt dread as he made his way home.

Upon reaching home he went through the process of locking up the house for the evening, grabbing a large piece of meat from the freezer from the basement before heading to the backyard to the shed. He locked the door behind him, and putting the key that unlocked the door from the inside in it's compartment in the floor. The wolf couldn't get to the key so Tholo felt assured that the beast couldn't escape as long as it couldn't break the walls. Once he did a second check of the door, Tholo stripped down and placed the clothes with the key as to not have the clothes ruined. He shut the floor compartment and moved to the center of the shed. Now all he could do was wait for the pain.

James had dropped his stuff at home and gotten everything he would need minus the incense for the ritual. He also had food for the next few weeks which made things easier. Now he needed to figure out what he was going to do for the costume party later. He could easily do a World War Two soldier as he did have his old uniform intact. Or he could do a Viking warrior. He had the helm and some leather armour from a costume he did for a Renaissance Faire he and a couple of friends went to a few years back. He would have to do his offering before he went to the party though.

As daylight dwindled, he gathered the meats, fruits and the mead and made to the altar. With the high fence he could be in his dragon form at ground level without being seen. Plus the altar he built was semi-enclosed, further obscuring his draconic form from view. He began the ritual as he placed the meat and fruits on top of some kindling in an iron bowl on the altar and the mead onto the ground in front of it. As he prayed he kneeled and emptied a portion of the mead into the dirt. Finishing his prayer he inhaled, and a soft glow formed in the back of his mouth. As he exhaled, that soft glow turned into a roaring fire that was aimed into the iron bowl. He breathed fire onto the offering three times to ensureit would continue to burn as he finished the ritual. As he gave his thanks, he placed his left hand on a sharp edge he built into the altar and made a one inch wide cut in it. His blue blood flowed from the would and he lifted it over the offering bowl with its smouldering contents and let his blood drip into it. He bowed his head to finish the ritual and stood up shifting back to his human form. From start to finish the ritual lasted about half an hour.

Careful not to touch anything with his blood-soaked hand, he opened the door and made his way to the medicine cabinet and grabbed some gauze as well as a wrap to conceal the colour of his blood. He got dressed up in studded leather armour and his Viking helmet with some leather breeches, and almost walked out the door before remembering his bracers and heading back into his workshop to grab them and tie them to his forearm. He’d leave his forge hammer at home, nor would he bring the round shield he made; that would just be excessive. As he walked down the street he held the helmet in his hand by the eyeholes.