[url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5568688][color=00ff66][h3][b]Qaymu[/b][/h3][/color][/url][img]https://imagizer.imageshack.com/v2/117x117q70/924/rdF3nN.png[/img]
[hr][i]Bldg 1, Ground floor stairwell > First Floor stairwell landing[/i]
[hr]
Velvet bothered him - not that she was a vampire, he'd ran into many, before. There were VC vampires in Vietnam, newly turned, who tried to drink his blood when the patrol stopped at an abandoned village. It was like watching fireflies as they burned away, not even leaving ash. The idiot butter bars filed a report, which HQ rejected, telling him to stop smoking Mary Jane. Just to be sure, he erased the patrol's memories of it - even Max's. You never knew if a hunter would wind up reading the report and come looking.

She, despite appearances, was more than old enough to survive drinking his blood - but who knew what affect that might have on her? But really, it was she looked so damned... familiar. Had he seen her before? Where? When? Could it have been more than once? 

Was it the World's Fair? Maybe the Smithsonian museum? Or was it during one of the wars he fought in? Perhaps one he'd smuggled out, just another station in the monster underground railroad, moving the dispossessed of the war to where they'd be safe.

Movement made Qaymu shift his head to the window, where he saw letters drawing themselves on the fogged glass. 

"Huh," he said, nonplussed, then points towards it. "So who's doing that again? Floozie?"