5 Years ago

“We have a breach in the containment section!” Yelled the security guard “Get Tolfey down here immediately!” The head of security Tolfey burst through the double doors a face full of panic and fear.

“What’s happened?! How the hell did he wake up? He’s been in a medically induced coma for 125 years and he wakes up now? How?!” The security guard pointed at a man or what was left of him.

“What’s left of that fella right there is the reason Joshua escaped. He’s been working as night staff for about a year now. Than he suddenly comes down here to Joshua’s cell and blows himself up!” The security guard looked through the cleaners file handing it to Tolfey “Says in his file that he was an adept, he was able to control electricity. But this explosion was not electrical.”

Tolfey’s arm suddenly began burning looking at his wrist he saw a red symbol glowing fiercely. “Shit! He made it to the second level. Okay seal off this area, bring forensics in and find out why the hell this man exploded. I’ve got to deal with Joshua, he should still be weak from all the drugs we’ve been pumping into him.”

Tolfey took a shortcut to the area that he knew Joshua would have to pass through in order to escape. Just as he reached it Joshua was passing around the corner. The two now face to face. Joshua smiled at Tolfey.

“Ah Tolfey. Been a long time hasn’t it? I suppose you came to stop me. I don’t think you can, but. You can try if you want to.”

Tolfey didn’t even wait for the man to finish tapping several symbols on his biceps and fists he was suddenly imbued with great strength and agility, his fists now aflame. He sturck Joshua many times in the chest he dodged back as the symbols power wore off. Joshua staggered slightly looking at the seared mark on his chest, falling to the floor his eye closed. Tolfey sighed with happiness. Turning around he grabbed his walkie talkie.

However he was unable to finish this action as a large hand grasped his throat from behind. “I told you that you could try. I guess, you failed. Don’t worry I’m not angry at being trapped down here. It really got me thinking that maybe we should be the one’s on top, it should be the humans in hiding not us. I mean come on I can lead us to a new world, where we are in charge.” Tolfey who had been turned to face Joshua looked at him in the eyes voice full of determination he whispered

“You’re mad, you may be all powerful but the humans we’ll do reckless things and will hunt us down, what about the other races? They’ll be next.”

Joshua chuckled “We’ll see now won't we Tolfey” throwing the man at a wall Joshua continued through the facility until he was outside and back into the real world. Leaving Tolfey on the floor in a pool of his own blood. Phillip and Jennifer were quick to their friend Tolfey’s side as he was lifted onto a stretcher. Tolfey explained that Joshua had escaped and what he had planned for mankind. “He’s not strong enough to kill them all, he’ll need help. He must be stopped!”

Phillip quietened his friend “We do not want to cause panic amongst our people Tolfey, we will try to deal with this as quietly as possible. If people knew that we The Order let someone as powerful as Joshua free than they may doubt our strength.”

“Don’t worry Tolfey we know where he will go, we’ll sort this out” Jennifer said.

Present Day

Joshua looked over the city of London, the home of The Order. It had been five years since his escape, yet he felt as weak as he had during his escape. Whatever they had done to him and been a permanent thing. He would need to find the tesseract, with it he could restore himself to his full strength. But the damn vampires had it, and they never did like sharing. No matter perhaps he could recruit some help from other mages who shared his vision of the future. If not he could alway trick them into helping him………..

John sat cross-legged on the floor of his room. He didn't know what time it was.

It was a cramped but cozy room in the utilities area of the building, closer to the bathrooms and kitchen than the actual bar. Apparently it used to be an extra storage room, because there was a very large cupboard that took up most of the space. In fact, the cupboard was large enough to fit a person in, so John had taken the doors off completely and fit a small mattress inside. It was big enough for him; he wasn't very tall and wasn't one to toss and turn all night either. Above where the doors used to be John had put up a disjointed curtain rod and panel for extra privacy. All that was left in the room was his keyboard sitting comfortably on its stand, a desk and dim desk lamp so he could sketch and a chair for both. His room was always dark and warm.

John didn't want to stay in the Order's headquarters under the bar, even when they said that there were bigger and nicer rooms. Being down below frightened him, and not because of the supernatural elements. He supposed that being underground reminded him of his own mind; when you thought and traveled too deep, all the weight and rock pressed above you, ready to collapse and bury you in the dark again. Then there would be nothing to do but scream and shout and cry into the void, and wait until forever for the nothing to answer back.

He stood up and looked down at the black and white keys of his instrument, glowing softly in the muted light of the room. When he placed his fingers on them, his jumbled and drifting thoughts seemed to coalesce. Everything was all right then, because he knew what the keys were; the keys could make notes, and John knew which notes to play to make a song. He didn't recognize the songs, but he knew them by heart and could play them whenever he wanted, even if he was feeling especially lost that day. The keyboard, the notes and the songs were his anchor to his life before. When John played, it was like a window opened to the 'before' time, and he could reach out and touch his past self of which he knew so little. So he started playing.

This song was the easiest to remember; it was short, slow, simple and very sweet to John's ears. His hands and fingers moved lazily as he lost himself for a few moments, only to be brought back by the sound of a faint knocking on the door next to him just before it opened. John could recognize the silhouette of the person out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to look away from the keys. It was his doctor, or he supposed that the man was a doctor. They met regularly so he could ask John questions like “How are you feeling?” and “Do you remember who did this to you?” and “Will you tell me if this man looks familiar?” The last question was always accompanied by a picture or a drawing of someone he had never seen before. He didn't have a briefcase this time though, so maybe John wouldn't have to try and remember anything today. He relaxed.

The man glanced at John's keyboard for a moment and listened politely before asking, “How do you like the keyboard?”

“I love it, thank you. It helps me.” John said, his voice softer than he'd like. It made him sound out of place; all the other men he had met had strong, tough voices.

“Well, Jennifer approved the request. All I had to do was ask her and explain what it meant to you.”

“Thank you.” John said again. They were both silent for a while, then out of confusion about his presence, John said, “You said yesterday that we weren't doing questions today.”

“That's not why I'm here. I just wanted to check up on you, and to make sure you're feeling comfortable today.”

John didn't understand why. There had been plenty of days where the doctor didn't visit at all. He turned his attention back to his song, slowing down the melody because he was getting near the end.

“Going Home.” The other man said suddenly.

“You are?” John asked, furrowing his brow.

“No, that's the name of the song. It's actually part of New World Symphony, do you remember?”

“No.” John answered quickly. Truthfully, he didn't even try to remember. John thought he said that he wouldn't ask any questions today.

“That's all right. Well, you let me know if you need anything, I'll be...you know, downstairs.”

With that he left, leaving a confused amnesiac in his wake. John sighed and stopped playing. He wasn't feeling too good today, his thoughts were dark and he couldn't help it. Maybe work would take his mind off of it. John shuffled out of his room, hoping to find something to clean or sweep up to distract him for a while, at least until people started showing up.

The world shined that day, bright enough to blind a star. It was time, the wedding day was here. I couldn't believe that after two years of courting this is finally happening. Love really drives people mad, I thought as I chuckled to himself.

"HEY SHITSUBO YOU JERK!" A lady screamed after seeing me eye her down, "ITS YOUR WEDDING TODAY REMEMBER!"

I chuckled again, "Yeah I know Maria, but it doesn't change your looks." Perhaps I took things too far, but I'm well known for being a player. Not even the prospect of marriage can change that, something my wife to be refuses to accept.

slap

"Shitsubo, it's our WEDDING so you BETTER not be HAVING any OTHER thoughts today, do you understand." His wife Crystal said, slapping me for every emphasis she put on her words.

She went to hit my already bright red face again, but before she could I swooped her off her feet and spun her around. "s-stop you idiot," She said, trying to contain her laughter. I eyed her down, reminding myself of what a catch the women I chose is. Her bright red dress contrasted against her pale snow white skin making her dazzle in the light. The dimple on her cheek formed so perfectly when she blushed, and her hair spun around in circles before topping off as a bun, making her appear as regal as a queen. Not to mention all the...extra's that comes with the rest of her body.

"Crystal, did I ever say you were beautiful," I stated resolutely, saluting myself for a job well done.

"Why do i get the feeling you're not complimenting just my figure," she says with a knowing look.

"Don't be so harsh, you should take it as an increase in chance of me not cheating."

She looked amused at that, "You know you'd be dead before you could say 'I'm sorry' if you cheated." I squinted my eyes at the thought, hoping if I pretended that comment didn't exist, it wouldn't exist. "Anyways," She stated, "The daycare center thanked you for your help the other day, you're always a bundle of fun to the younger kids." I blushed at the comment, knowing full well all I did was have fun myself.

"OI YOU TWO THE WEDDINGS ALREADY STARTED AND YOU'RE NOT THERE!" A lady screamed from inside the building a few yards away. It took a moment to sink in, then we looked at each other in panic and ran.

We made it to the door and kicked it wide open in as fancy a way as possible to make up for our lack of entrance, "We obviously meant to be late for the anticipation," I stated resolutely as sweat dripped off of me. Everyone muttered various comments along the lines of 'he must think I'm stupid' before settling in as we advanced down the stage. Suddenly, the ceremony started. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..."

*gasp* I pulled myself out of my dream, reality is reality. Trying to escape form it in a dream will not change facts. I controlled my breathing, slowing it down to a normal pace.

The world shined that day, darker then any night. I struggled to maintain my self, as I slowly allowed my eyes to drift downwards. The further down they went, the faster my breathing and the more uncontrollable my body became. After what seemed like a lifetime, finally my eyes fell onto the floor.

Before me was the dead body of my wife.

I started heaving uncontrollably as reality suddenly became all too real, grabbing onto what I could before I simply fell down and stared into nothingness. She's gone I whispered to myself as the pain of existing crippled my heart and stopped my lungs. It felt like days before I could force myself to breathe again. Weeks before I could drag myself out of the room. Months before I could walk to get some help. But once the months passed, I ran. I ran for anyone so that the reality is not just forced upon me.

There was Maria, I quickly leapt to her, trying to control my breathing again so that I could speak to her. "Maria, Maria, oh god oh god oh god, She's dead maria." i said over and over, she's dead maria. She's dead.

And she simply walked right past me. It was not a blink, it was not a pause, it was simply as if my words and I never existed in the first place. I asked another person, another 10, I asked the whole village and yet not a single person recognised my existence. Finally I gave up in fear and sadness, and walked back to the room to be with my wife. I lay down there, letting my troubles rock me to sleep...

"Who could have done this," a voice stated as my mind slowly woke up. "This is horrible," another one said as I snapped my eyes open and saw dozens of people sorrounding her body. I knew better then to bother calling out to them, I don't exist anymore."I know it might be hard to believe, but we haven't seen him since the morning, could it possibly be..." the Elder said. I wondered who hasn't been seen since the morning and suddenly my eyes snapped op-

"Yes, it has to be Shitsubo, I never trusted that devil," One of them stated. "He's always messing with us, acting as if he isn't betrothed as well, I could believe he'd do this," another said. My eyes widened, I existed. So why couldn't they see me.

Suddenly my sword, Grim, whispered to me "Someone cursed this village so that none can recognise your existence Shitsubo, yet here you are being accused, something far more evil is at foot then a simple murder, they don't want you in the way."

"THEN WHY COULDN'T THEY HAVE JUST LEFT ME ALONE WITH HER, GRIM, WHY THE HELL DID THEY DO THIS." Grim sighed, "A broken man is far weaker then one with someone to protect."

I clenched my fists, this isn't fair. I just wanted to live without worry for one simple life time, I already paid my due to this world. Life's just too cruel the longer you live. "I've decided," I exclaimed with ferocity, "whoever they are; I personally state as the Reaper that they will not achieve their goals."

"Good, good," Grim whispered, "because one of their foolish apprentices started talking about it while you were asleep. I know most, if not all, of what they wish to achieve." I affirm my resolution, before heading into her bedroom. I grab her book of forbidden symbols to pass onto a new generation, and her most beloved coat to remember her by. I stand at the doorway, staring one last time at her body, "we will wait for the funeral" I state before heading out.

----2 weeks later

I stared down at her lifeless face, even more pale then when she lived. "I promise," I say as she is lowered into the ground to rest one last time, "I promise to stop their plan. This is no longer for vengeance, if they succeed the world will be torn apart from the inside." I pray to all the gods that could possible exist for her one last time, before I finally turn away. It's time to accept The Order's offer.

----6 months later

a raindrop fell in the middle of the night. As if reacting to the minute sound Shitsubo snapped out of his dream, wide awake, before jumping out of his not-so-comfortable-bed-damn-the-order with his sword drawn. He felt a mind-numbing presence, drawing him in. It felt irresistible, yet at the same time incredibly dangerous.

He called out into the night, "Speak so that I may know of your reasons, or we fight here and now."

Only silence followed, twisting and turning until it became almost unbearable before suddenly-a whisper.

"Hear me out, Reaper, I wish to tell you a story." The voice whispered, as if it's strength was too far gone to speak any louder.

He sat down, making himself comfortable before stating "very well, I will listen."

It was some time before a breath was drawn again, yet very little time since the whisper finished talking. "you speak of a hefty goal, Joshua, one that cannot be accomplished alone. I suppose that is another reason why you seek comrades. However, while I will not interfere, I have no interest in helping you. I have my own goal, my own problems. Perhaps you and I will both accomplish what we wish for. If that day comes, let us meet once again."

With that said, the presence drifted away, but not before whispering "very well, my friend, one day soon."

Shitsubo sighed, rolling back into his bed before realising the floor is, realistically, more comfortable. "damn my goals, a bed is what I need. Definitely a bed." His mind drifted to a siglist he saw the other day, she looked promising. Perhaps tomorrow he will test her worth. Perhaps the day to hand over the book has finally come.

~2:34 AM. Rundown Apartment~

Clara took a deep breath as she reached the top of the stairs, the smell of smoke and other chemicals from the addicts that lived here greatly offended her sense of smell. It was something she was used to though, as she had spent her fair share of time in places like this. Not because she wanted to, or because she was a drug addict of sorts, but because her line of work often had her doing things...of a less reputable nature. She was a hired gun, after all. Well, sort of. She didn't use guns. Just her fists and her magic. And, if she had to brag, her magic was awesome

Stepping into the hallway on the second floor, two of her face tattoos briefly flashed as she walked quietly down the hallway, and she instantly could hear everything on the floor. The drug dealer in one room talking a price for his product, The prostitute and the man talking price, and all manner of other things taking place in the building. She wasn't interested in any of them though. No, the room she was interested in was room 25. The fifth room on the right side of the hallway. That, was where she was heading.

It didn't take her long to reach it either. She stopped outside of it, and listened. She didn't hear anything from inside the room, so either there was no one in there which meant the target had moved, or she was going to be walking into a trap. She was smart enough to know that just walking in there would be akin to suicide since she didn't know what was in there. She didn't really have much choice though, as she was running out of time to finish the job. It had taken her long enough to find the guy, but she had managed it. The door and its hinges looked weak enough. Cheaply made, much like everything else in the shitty apartment complex. With enough force, she could easily open the door with enough force and surprise whoever was inside, if any. It was risky, and didn't leave much room for error, but she was confident she could handle it.

She took another breath, as the tattoos on her face flashed again, and her hearing returned to their normal human levels. After, the tattoos on her arms lit up as she took an offensive stance. Preparing herself for the fight ahead, if there was one, she kicked the door right in its center, her magically enhanced strength sending it flying into the far wall. She ran into the room, expecting a fight. She was quite surprised when no one was in the room though, as she had been certain it was a trap. Was her information wrong? No, she was sure it was right. Perhaps he had seen her coming? Possible, but it wasn't likely he knew her face.

She looked around the room. She was in a dirty looking two room apartment. The pain on the walls had begun to peel, the oven and other appliances had definitely seen better days, and she wasn't even about to speculate what was growing on the toilet. The room, was completely empty of human life. So where was her target? She took a quick search of the main room, along with the bedroom and found nothing telling where he may have gone. She was about to leave and wait outside the building to see if he returned, but the sound of a gun being cocked caught her attention.

"Alright, no funny business. You hear me? Hands on your head, turn around slowly."

Clara complied with the directive and turned around. The man who was her target was now standing right in front of her, holding an automatic shotgun right in her face. "So it had been a trap. He must have been watching from somewhere else. Rookie mistake Clara, rookie mistake." She thought with a frown. This was a dangerous situation, but she could handle it. Wasn't her first time staring down the barrel of a gun. She'd have to be quick though. Quick, strong and decisive.

"Didn't think someone as infamous as you was a little girl." The man said with a snarl.

"Yeah, well, this little girl has killed more men than the number of times you've been laid." She smirked, causing the man to growl. "Yeah, well this ends here girlie. I'm gonna blast you to bits, and mail your pieces back to that asshat who hired you.

"yeah, he is a bit of an asshat, but he pays well. And I like getting paid." With that, almost all of the tattoos on her body lit up within a split second. In the next second, her right hand was on the barrel of the shotgun, pushing it up towards the ceiling just as he fired. Her left hand grabbed onto his throat, lifting him easily off of the ground. She turned, dragging the man with her as she smashed his face into the wall with enough force to cause a few small cracks to appear. The man let out a pained groan, as his body went limp within seconds, and his hands released his weapon. "Come to think of it, I've probably been laid more than you. Which is like, twice." She chuckled as she released the hold on his neck, as blood ran down his now smashed cranium. He only groaned again in response. "So, i have a question. Want flying lessons?" She said as she dragged his body over to the dirty window. With one swift motion and another display of almost inhuman strength, she threw him right through the window, sending him flying to the ground below.

She left the somewhat trashed apartment, somewhat surprised to see that no one had poked their head out to see what happened. Not unusual really. Stuff like this happened all the time in these shady neighborhoods. She walked down the stairs, back to the entrance and picked up her jacket that she left hanging on a rack at the entrance. She slipped it on over her tank top and walked out onto the street and reached into her pocket and pulled out a cellphone. She pressed a single button on it, whoever was on the other end picking up swiftly. "Jobs done. Send the payment to the pre-arranged drop. Don't be late this time." With that, she pressed another button and ended the call.

As she walked passed the now lifeless body of her target, she tossed the phone onto the ground, before swiftly stomping it into dust. It was a burner phone and wasn't registered, but one could never be too careful. With her job for the night done, she left the scene without further incident, ready to finally be home so she could get some rest.

---

~Morning, a few hours later~

Clara woke up and crawled out of her bed and went through her usual routine. She may have had a late night, but she was used to the occasional only getting a few hours of sleep. She showered, got dressed, ate breakfast, the usual things people went through in the morning. She wondered briefly if the mans body she killed last night had been found by the police. It would give her some perverse satisfaction to see her own work. She was confident the police couldn't tie her too it, and even if she did she had friends in high places. If not, she could make a bargain and give up her employers if they let her walk. She decided against it though, she had a pay day coming up and she wanted to collect.

She left her residence, a rather pricey apartment she rented downtown and went to the drop to collect her earnings. For once, this particular employer had her payment delivered on time. The amount of money though, was going to be spent by the end of the day, or at least a good bit of it would. She needed to pay off her rent, along with a few other essentials. But first, she could use a drink, and what better way to spend a drink than to potentially more work? She knew the perfect bar, and set a course for it.

Blood, that was all he could see, all he could smell. The stench of death. He held his breath but there was no point, the monster was gone but he felt that if he breathed it would somehow return to finish him off. He couldn't tell if anyone else was alive yet he somehow knew that his friends were gone and he was alone. He remained motionless for hours and it was all a blur the next few days, then those crept into weeks. He had nearly recovered from it when the pain happened on that full moon, the first of many painful nights. The sounds were awful, cracking bones, him screaming in agony which turned into a howl after a brief few seconds. Then well that's all he remembered. The beast that had attacked had done more then nearly killed him, it had placed the curse it had on him, Zaccar Drogoth, eleven years ago.

Zaccar awoke with a start from the nightmare he had, reliving that night that drove him to what he was now. However by now he accepted what he was. He awoke with the alarm of his clock blaring, at least to his sensitive ears it was blaring loud. He slammed his hand onto it, quickly turning off the racket it had been making before getting up. He was about to take a shower when his phone rang and he could only guess what that meant this early in the morning. A body had been found, and not in particularly good condition.
Zaccar had become a police officer when he was twenty six and thanks to what he was quickly shot himself up the ranks to being a detective of some sort. Mostly his job involved figuring how the hell someone died, usually to make everyone think they were looking for a normal physopath but the truth was usually far more worse. Humans had no idea what hid amongst them and he was one of those things but he tried to use his talents for good and putting those supernatural physcopaths behind bars or ended there life if he had to.
He picked up the phone and in a gruff voice asked ",Yeah what is it?"
"A body has been found on the bad side of town, figured you would want to check it out," a voice replied, another officer.
"Right I'll be there in a few minutes," he said. Perfect another body, just when it was the full moon that very night, he didn't need this crap.

Half Hour Later

He was looking at the twisted form of a person. It wasn't a particularly clean death, but from the scent the guy had been dead for several hours, probably late last night so he could only hope that it was quick, he didn't like the idea of someone suffering before they died, even if the guy had a record of crimes and prison time. From what he was told, the guy had been thrown out of a window and no one was talking, either because they had been high out of their mind or they were to scared. It wasn't the prettiest part of town this murder was in and crime here wasn't anything new, especially a murder. Most of the officers were chalking it up as a drug deal gone bad. Except for Zaccar, he knew better, there was more to it then met the eye.
There was the faint scent of magic on the body, faint but noticeably there, his nose never failed him and when he had gone to the room, the smell was far stronger. It was the same magic he had smelled before. Another body added to the person he was tracking. He had been following a case of murders for quite some time, most didn't see them as connected just random. Zaccar was the only one working on it and knew the connection between them, the magic used in all the murders all were the same. Someone who had a good knowledge of magic was killing these people but as to why he still had to figure it out. Because they could or perhaps they were paid to do it? It was hard to say without finding more evidence but until he did he let the other officers believe what they wanted, as long as they didn't expect anything out of the ordinary about it, his job was fine.
He took some evidence, mostly photos before leaving the scene, he then returned home to get some things ready."I'm going to need a drink to keep on this assignment," he mumbled as he entered his home once more. A small apartment that was sparsely furnished. One wall though was entirely covered with the images of murdered people with scraps of notes and string trying to slowly piece the mystery he was working on. He would figure out who was doing this and bring them to justice. He put the new murder victim up, once downloading the image off of his camera and printing it. He would try to find out more on the person once prints were taken from the body to reveal who they were since a wallet wasn't found at the scene to determine who they were and even common face criminals couldn't be always named by just one look of there face.
Zaccar grabbed a duffel bag putting some items into it, before he went off to work on murder some more he had to drop it off to a nearby bar, someplace safe and pay for a room to use for the upcoming night. He placed some extra clothes within the bag along with some other items before heading out of his apartment and beginning the walk to the bar, maybe he would see some new interesting characters there or if not he would at least get one drink before heading out again.

Joshua would have to take on many forms both human and inhuman in order to have his goal become reality. Some of the things that he had planned were not exactly something he was comfortable with. But if magic was to rise to power they would have to be done. First he would need followers, where better to get those than from cultists. Nasty people who worshiped demonic beings. Slipping into a human body he had discovered was part of one of these cult he had decided to pay them a little visit. The man who he had possessed memories lead him to their underground place of worship. He could smell the stench of death before he even entered the doors.

These people, he had to have picked these people. The cult that he had joined were a fanatical bunch who worshiped the Old ones. A group of powerful demonic gods who's power easily out did his. Though mere mortals would ever be able to summon them they had been trying none the less. How pathetic. Seemed though that he had interrupted just in time, a sacrifice was just beginning. Joshua sadly had to sit through the process until the actual moment where they began killing things. Once they had finished the slaughter he burst from the man taking on the form of the Demonic gods that they worshiped.

"Listen here mortals, it is I Joshua. One of the Great and powerful Old ones. I have decided to grant you an audience just this once. Perhaps you can please me and we shall talk again. But that has yet to be decided. I need something from you. I need you to collect the Blood of several creatures. With it I will be able to set foot on mortal soil." The cultist listened intently. "The blood of the Righteous wolf. The blood of a vampire who cannot feel hunger. the blood of a pure female, and the blood of the magically tainted. I understand that this may seem foreign to you but I need this. Bring it all back here either just the blood or the body that goes with it, it matters little. Bring it back and you will be ascended to walk by my side when i enter this world."

The room went dark and Joshua silently left the cultists. What he had set into motion a series of events that would end not only his own demise but also of many others.......

Kaden, last of his line, Navajo witch, skin-walker. He was riding in the back of a bus that clearly didn't have air conditioning, was filled with various ornery people -- and quite frankly smelled funny. Considering what he was, his life was hardly glamorous, and was filled with less intrigue than one might expect. He was on the return trip, currently. He'd gone up to one of England's national parks, for his biweekly trip. It was the one thing he could appreciate about being a skin-walker, he had an affinity for being out in nature. That said, England was a bit scarce on "nature." The island nation was running low on it.

Being part Navajo, obviously his lineage hadn't started in England, but considering the crazy, vile things witches tended to do, he had a feeling they had run out their welcome. Why they'd chosen England, he'd never know, but that's where he'd been born. At least the entire island hadn't been paved over yet.

He'd had to learn to get used to a more urban way of life though, especially after finding The Abandoned Bar. He knew he'd never find another place like it, a place where what he was wasn't something to be kept secret. At best, the average person would think he was a sociopath, at worst he'd be killed on the spot.

[2 Years Ago]

A large, tiger-striped, Siberian cat was padding through the streets, leaving snowy footprints in its wake. It jumped up on a nearby stone wall to avoid some passing pedestrians. What one couldn't see through the thick, glorious fur were emaciated ribs. If one looked closely though, one would be able to see how the cat's pelt hung loosely over its shoulders, with not fat to keep its skin taught.

The cat caught the eye of a passerby, who flinched and began walking faster. It was the same story every time. It made sense of course, that the cat would strike fear into people, it wasn't natural. It had eyes that pierced the soul and looked too human. It had eyes that no cat, no beast should have.

That cat was Kaden, borrowing the warmth of its fur to make it through the winter without frostbite. He had no home, currently. He'd lost it, again. He couldn't keep steady work, at least nothing good enough to live on. He was stuck living on the street, and he didn't get to eat very often.

Catden walked into a nearby alley that he knew included the back entrance to a restaurant. They threw out their unwanted food into the alley, and he could get at it sometimes. His tail swished in frustration when he found that all the garbage was sealed up tight, nothing he could get at as a cat. He used his cat senses to double check that the alley was clear, and returned to being human so he could shift through the trash.

He found some old spaghetti, but it was mixed up with something nasty, so he decided against that. Finally, he found some bread that looked safe. However, before he could attempt to "enjoy" his meal, he heard someone coming. Making sure no one could see him yet, he quickly shifted forms again, this time into a dog; a large, black Akita.

"Doggy!" It was a little girl. He growled, but still the little thing ran over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He couldn't do it, he couldn't continue to feign being vicious. He wasn't into terrorizing small children. "Isn't this beneath you?" Suddenly she whispered in his ear.

Startled, he pulled away, baring his teeth and snarling at her. What the hell was this?

"Rifling through the trash to live like a common hobo? That's no good!" she wagged a finger at him, as if to chastise him. "Aren't you above that? I mean, look at you."

Kaden shifted back to being human, and leaned against a nearby dumpster, arms crossed over his chest defensively.

"Above what, exactly?" Kaden asked, his voice raspy and weak.

"Scavenging, hiding, humanity? Take your pick!" she grinned at him creepily.

"I don't like that last part, it bothers me. Understand?" Kaden narrowed his eyes. "The last people who spoke to me like that... it didn't end well."

"Are you threatening me? In your condition?" She jumped atop the dumpster next to him with inhuman agility and poked his cheeks, which were sunken in. He recoiled and backed away. "Well, I guess not everyone thinks the same way. Not a bad thing, really. Well, I guess I've worn out my welcome already. I'm quite bad at this apparently." She shook her head, but with an amuse smile on her face. "Here, take this. It'll help you out, I promise; abnormal to abnormal. Just give it a shot." He held out a folded piece of paper to him. He took in, nervously, but in truth he was desperate.

Besides, this girl wasn't normal. Abnormal to abnormal, right? Maybe she could be trusted. One way or another, perhaps his struggle was over. He looked up from the paper, but the girl was gone.

He opened it and read it. It's contents weren't particularly lengthy, it was an address.

To: Someone Lost,
You're humbly invited to The Abandoned Bar.
Love,
Lilith

"Worth a shot, right?" he muttered to himself. That was the day a certain cat dragged itself into a certain bar.

[The Present]

Kaden exited the bus, back in the city of London. First stop, the bar, then he'd head back to his shoddy little apartment to make sure he hadn't been robbed while he was gone... again. He supposed thieves occasionally preferred easy targets over valuable ones. It didn't matter, he didn't have much worth stealing, but it was still annoying. The worst part was that being able to turn into various animals that could easily hunt down a thief meant having to restrain himself from actually doing so. It could get him into too much trouble.

He stepped into the bar, and headed for his usual seat near the back. He found it was taken. He sighed. Well, as long as that was the worst case of thievery he had to deal with today, he'd be fine. Instead, he took the first empty seat he saw, which was a fair bit closer to the door than usual.

He sighed, not sure why he was there. He wasn't much for drinking or anything, and neither was he much for conversation. Well, the bar had pulled him out of the gutter; he supposed it just felt right to check in regularly.

-Six weeks ago, Location Unknown-

Cyder lay on the floor of someones living room, staring up blankly at the ceiling without blinking. He was sprawled out for the most part, merely one arm resting behind his head. His cloak was elongated, easily a good foot longer than himself and big enough to wrap around his body. Though at the moment, it was just rumpled around him while he gazed upwards with his red eyes. The cloths he was sporting seemed rather out of place, he didn't have on any shoes and the pair of jeans he wore seemed old and several sizes too big. He didn't seem to have a shirt on, his cloak as covering a good part of his chest, though his navel was exposed. Not that it really mattered anyhow. There were no longer any living residents within this home. He could run around naked and no one could stop him! Not that he would do that.

Running around naked was not his thing, especially after having just collected some souls. With his outstretched hand, he lightly tapped his naturally black nails against the wooden floor, making a clicking sound to fill the silence. He did not mind the silence, but it did bother him on some level at this now empty house. Just the day before he had watched from the windows, from the walls. The family was small, only four of them. Two parents and two young children, none above the age of thirty and none younger than seven. They were prime targets, though Cyder would admit, he was very lucky to have found them yesterday, he might have missed this prime chance.

Normally Cyder would have left them alone, but he knew they were going to die soon. He was not fully sure why or how, maybe it was a smell, a second sense, or possibly some form of divine intervention, but he knew. He shouldn't have watched them though, because now he felt slightly guilty. He got to watch the family interact, play together, eat together, watch a movie together, he got to watch them live their last hours. He had seen a similar scene hundreds of times before, he had the same reaction each time, the same thoughts filling his head.

A groan escapes him as he suddenly pushes himself up, getting to his feet silently. It was pointless to let himself be dragged along by useless thoughts, he needed to finish his job and leave. He turns and swiftly stalks towards the kitchen, his bare feet not even making a noise on the wooden floor as his cloak trailed behind him. He didn't bother phasing through the wall, it was not like he would leave any fingerprints or anything of the such behind anyway. He strides up to the stove, his gaze still rather blank as he looks around the sizable kitchen for a pot or something of the such. Sadly, there were none that were merely sitting out in the open, but there were several wooden spoons and other objects around. It only made his job easier. Without flinching, he turns one of the knobs on the stove, the flame pops up quickly on the front burner as he spins back around with the wooden spoons.

He carefully extends them over the open flame, tapping his foot lightly as he waits for several moments for them to catch aflame. After a few moments the long wooden spoons caught fire, he nodded lightly to himself as he quickly used his free hand to turn all the other burners on before casually scooting many other flammable things onto the stove top. As soon as he was satisfied with that, he took the still burning spoons and walked around to the rest of the bottom floor of the cozy home. Toss one spoon on the couch, another by the door, two by the stairs, and finally, with the last one, he drops at his feet. The spoons were already burning up into nothing, the fire starting to spread quickly to the wooden floor and stairs, the soft plush fabric of the couch... it would only be a matter of time before the stove caught up. And by that time, Cyder would be long gone, just like this house. Just like everything else.

-Two weeks ago, Location Unknown-

"Excuse me, sir? Are you alright...? Sir?" A soft, feminine voice asked from somewhere. Cyder couldn't see it though. His hood was drawn down to cover over his face, its length traveled down well past his feet. He was fully covered so no one could see his skin or face, though at this point he could care less about being seen. He was hunched over, leaning heavily against a mud-baked wall, soft whimpers and grunts of pain escaping him. He had not said anything yet, especially as the woman grew closer. He merely allowed his pained noises to get a bit louder as he stumbled some, falling down to a knee with a cry.

"Sir!" She nearly yells, rushing over to his side. She grabs onto his cloaked arm and freezes, suddenly realizing a terrible mistake had been made. The person she had just grabbed was freezing despite the heat that was baring down upon them from the mid-day sun. She probably should have noticed sooner, maybe from the fact that they were cloaked so heavily, or the mere fact that he had been in such a strange place... But it was already too late. She could no longer move, her eyes wide with terror as a rough laugh escaped the cloaked figure. It took only a few moments for her terror to turn into complete and utter defeat as a white hand reaches out from the black cloak to touch her bare arm.

It was cold, his touch was. And he knew it. He could feel the heat from her body slowly start to dissipate as the life began to drain from her slowly, nothing was sweeter. Cyder quickly stood up, keeping a firm grip on her arm, the red color was starting to fade from her cheeks. While he could have just ripped the soul and life from her body nearly instantly, he preferred to do it slowly so he could watch the life drain from them. Once he got a hold of a target of death, he was in control. There was no running, no screaming, even if they wanted too. While he never thought about it, it was likely because he found the freshly tormented souls sweeter. Then again... that could all just be in his head and he liked seeing people suffer without being able to lift a finger to do anything about it but scream internally. The look in their eyes was just the best!

"Pity." Was all he managed out, warmth slowly starting to return to his own body as his target grew cold.

-One day ago-

"What do you mean I can't hang out here anymore? I only did that -once-! I told you I wouldn't do it again..." Cyder explains, standing in front of a tall, rather bulky man. A man who happen to have a butchers cleaver in one hand with a pigs leg in the other.

"I do not care if you won't do it again, you are costing me good business! People do not find it funny seeing a pigs head talk. You are lucky I covered for you." The taller bulky man places his hands on his hips, frowning sternly down towards the shorter fellow. He didn't seem to care that the smaller male was as pale as a sheet and had red eyes, nor did he really care that he was barefoot in the back of his butchers shop.

"Now take this and go check it out, Cy-dar. Maybe you can find something to amuse yourself there, hrm?" With that, the butcher reaches into a pocket, pulling out what appears to be a small slip of paper and handing it to Cyder. Cyder had a weird look on his face, like he wanted to frown, but at the same time smile. He reaches a hand up, snatching the paper from the mans hand with a low hiss.

"I'll be back to get your soul later, mark my words!" Cyder turns to leave, then stops for a moment, sucking in a sharp breath as he clutches the paper in his hand. "And its Cy'der'! Not Cy'dar'!" And with that, his form starts to slowly vanish as he moves closer to the door. By the time he reaches the door though, there was nothing left of Cyder to see. The butcher lets out a hefty sigh, just shaking his head as he sets his butchers knife back down on the counter, grumbling something about age not meaning a single thing about maturity. The paper that had been handed to Cyder though was suddenly on the counter, a soft snort sounding from nowhere. He knew of this place already, he had been there before. A bar.

Maybe, just maybe... something interesting would happen this time.

That tune. That song. There was that song again.

The notes were soaring through the floorboards of The Abandoned Bar and in through the ventilation system into the room Charlize Cousineau for the time being called her own. The room's original intent was anyone's best guest but she had taken it onto herself to make it livable. Purchasing a small bed and some girlish touches, she made the place seemed like any studio flat you could purchase in the posh area's of London. Filled to the brim with various plants, the room definitely had enough color and energy. Like John below, Charlize did not find comfort in staying below in the headquarters. It made her feel trapped and she couldn't stand feeling trapped. She owed The Order her life and respect. It was true she gave a lot of her time and energy to them as it was, but they could and would not take her free spirit.

Her slate grey remained closed as she let the music wrap around her ankles and traveled up the foot of her bed, traveled around her ankles, swirled around her slender legs, fluttered around her belly, to eventually come to a rest in the pit of her heart. There was something about that song that made her feel more alive than she really was. At least she thought it was the song, it could have been last night's mix of cocktails making her feel like she had something crawling under her skin.

"I can feel you standing there. Did you want to say something or did you want a show?" Charli mumbled, her eyes still closed. Heavy feet shuffled a little across the wooden floor boards. "Charlize, you know I have to check in on you. You remember what happened last time?" She didn't. When most people got tired, they went to sleep and got up later- refreshed. If she went to sleep, she couldn't retain enough energy to remain alive. The last time she had gotten that low, well- she couldn't really remember what happened, but apparently it was bad. The man walked forward, "Ahem" he cleared his throat, still expecting a reply from the young girl.

Charlize began to roll over, lifting the blanket and flashing the man her naked back side.

She made the full turn before covering up again with the large quilt that adorned her bed. "Jesus Charlize, have some self respect! Get up and out of bed already. You fall into these moods sometimes that I can't even understand. You usually are so carefree and cheerful, what is wrong with you? Get up. " Charlize turned her head looking over her shoulder her eyes slowly opening and blinking. Her slate eyes stared at the man. He was dedicated. That, or he was paid very well. "Can we do the lilies today? They are my favorite." the young woman cooed, her pink lips forming a small hopefully smile. "There's our girl! I'll give you a moment to get dressed, then we will get started." Getting ready for the day with the various mundane tasks most humans did, Charli finished her routine with putting on a pale pink blouse and a pair of dark pegged jeans. Before the incident she had long, thick, jet black mane. They assumed the hair died and the pigment with the regrowth. It was offered to her multiple times if she would like to have it restored to it's original state, but she declined; She started to find it a pretty shade after awhile anyways.

The music had eventually come to a stop. Charlize had noticed as she pulled her hair into a small pony tail and clipped a few bobby pins in to keep her bangs out her way as she worked in the bar. "Okay, I'm ready!" she called to the man who was just outside her door. For about a half hour they worked at learning how to take energy in the most effective way from the elements around her. "Shit." Charlize grumbled pushing the wilted flower away. "Oh, don't give up so easily. You'll get it eventually. You've gotten so much better already. You and John both and have been making such progress, as far as we can tell."

John. John was a mysterious man to Charlize. Not in the way that they wrote sappy romance novels about either. He was mysterious in the way that you wanted to lay in bed and talk to him till sunrise until you figured out every single detail. She even was curious about the skeletons in his closet. The only things she truly knew about him was;

1) Steady and sturdy worker.
2) He was a talented musician.
3) Fantastic. Butt.

A smile crawled her lips, "That's good." she nodded, as the session wrapped up. The man took the wilted Lily in his hand as it sprung back to life, he placed it in Charlize's hair before cupping her cheek, "We only have about four sessions left before they want you to be at a certain place. Please practice some during your off time. Also, you better get to work downstairs, it's getting late." Nodding in agreement Charlize slipped on some black boots as she followed the man out of the room and down the stairs into the bar. Quickly she walked over the the daily schedule and checked to see what her duties today were.

I sigh. 'Another dud' I tell myself as I watch the girl continue to stare at the symbol, as if it was some unfathomable object out of reach. I snatch the piece of paper out of her hand and place it in my pocket, "time's up little girl, you failed, goodbye." She looked dissapointed, but not all to unhappy that it's over. If only she knew what she could've achieved if she just had the skill. I leave the room, sad that another prospect bites the dust. I take my usual spot in the corner of the bar, the table allows me a view of the whole place along with being away from anything that consists of an entrance or exit. Not only does it let me evaluate people entering and leaving, but also eliminates most of the threats. The door chimes, signalling someone walking into the bar, I glance up to check who it is.

Ah

It's the sigilist, Clara, once again she reeks of death. I followed up on her a while ago, she periodically kills for money. Her potential is huge, her skill decent, but she's naive to pursuit a job that has a 100% mortality factor. No job is ever perfect, the first mistake you make is the last. Well, either way, we'll see what happens when I give her the Test. But another day, for now I'll just test her.
"Grim, Awaken," I state to the air. For a split second the sword on my back shifts into a scythe before returning to is normal form. The girl glances around, as if feeling a presence thats no longer there.

I smile.

Next time I see her, I'll see how she fares. "I want cake," Grim whispers.

I pause, "cake? really."

"Hey, you agreed that the contract can be ANYTHING and I want CAKE so get it STAT." Grim huffs.

"yeah yeah," I sigh getting up.

---3 days later

She reeks of death again, I mutter to myself as Clara walks into the bar. Either way I decided to do this. I get up and start walking to her...

It didn't take Clara long to reach her destination. The bar was a place that most people wouldn't give a second look to. Most would just pass by without a second thought. Oh, if only they knew of the special nature of the bar. She herself didn't come here often. She preferred the comforts of her own apartment to this place. The only reasons she came down here was to see if the Order had the rare job for her, or to just get drunk after a job. Usually, just the latter happened. She had done jobs for the Order in the past, but they didn't like dealing with her too much. Likewise she didn't like them too much either. She was pretty sure one of these days she would end up at odds with them, but it wasn't going to be today. She could use a drink, and that's just about it.

She opened the door to the bar and took a quick look around. The usual people were there. No one that interested her really, aside from that one kid that gave her the creeps. What was his name? Shitubso or something? Man, that name was just asking to be made fun of. However, she didn't come here to contemplate making fun of some guys name. Ignoring him and the others, she took a seat at the bar and ordered her a drink. Vodka and a shot of Rum.

As she waited for her drink, she noticed Shitubso walking up to her. "Great. What the hell does he want?" She thought, giving him a sideways glance. She didn't really care much for the guy, or most other people for that matter. As far as she was concerned, people were liabilities. She didn't need liabilities. People would just slow her down or get in her way. In her line of work, that was dangerous.

" What do you want?" She asked without looking at him. "Unless you're from the order and have work for me, then I don't want to talk to you."

I smile in amusement, "It's not what I want, Clara, but what you want." I reach into my pocket and pull out a folded up piece of paper, holding it between two fingers, and with one swift motion threw the piece of paper at Clara. The paper obviously showed signs of aging, and the creases in the paper from being folded numerous times quite evident to any who saw it. On the paper, if she unfolded it, would be a symbol. Most Sigilists would recognize it right away, as it looked to be a simple Sigil that most beginners learned. However, if one were to look closely at the Sigil, they would find it to be...different, than what they originally thought it was. "Tell me, what does that mean to you?" I ask her as I take the seat next to her.

Zaccar walked down the street, duffle bag in hand, making his way to the bar. There weren't that many people walking about and the few that were he stayed a bit away from. He could feel the beast that lurked in him uneasy, ready to strike out when the full moon would be out. It only got worse with every hour and his anger and agitation only went up usually throughout the day. Someone had run into him while walking and it took all of his self control to keep from chewing the guy out and just say sorry before continuing on his way.

He eventually reached the bar in a few minutes and was somewhat surprised there were people there this early though he didn't pay much attention to them. The place reeked of magic and other supernatural scents. If the person who was responsible for the murder earlier today was here, he would never really know, there were to many scents to pinpoint just one person here and besides he came here to relax or at least try to before the full moon, not look for a killer, that would have to wait for a time when he could think with a clear head.

"Hey bartender, the usual and payment for the room I'll be borrowing tonight," he said sitting down at the bar ",Oh and here take the bag while you are at it, didn't want to forget it like last time so just watch it for me until tonight."

He was a usual person at the bar, going there for the past nine years he had been a werewolf and learning more on what was hidden from the normal world and having some interesting conversations but for the time all he wanted was a drink, something strong. It took a lot anymore to get him drunk which was good and bad. Good since it meant it took a lot to get intoxicated, bad because it meant it took more to try and get the wolf to settle down, to numb the senses and concentrate on the few days before a full moon.

He looked around the bar, seeing a few people, two of which were at the bar itself, talking about something. One was showing the other some piece of paper, from what he heard with his hearing something about a sigil the guy was asking about to the woman. He could only guess the names of who the were, Clara was one he had seen before there at the bar from time to time and the other was Shitsubo or something like that, he never kept track of names to well of those who were at the bar, only really those that were at the bar often when he was and took an interest in, be it maybe because of conversation or just by how they looked, perhaps to keep an eye on them if he had to if he figured out that they were tied to some crime he was looking into.

Time seemed to fly when he was working. Before John knew it, the floors in the toilets were shining like they never had been dirty in the first place. Well, almost. He leaned against the mop he had planted firmly onto the floor and listened to the sounds through the walls. Sound traveled easily in this place, above ground anyway. There were a few customers near the front, but probably not enough to rush out and get into the kitchen. They probably wouldn't want food this early, and he was hoping that the bartender was out there already. Barely, just barely, he could hear Charlize talking from somewhere else in the building.

Charlize had...a sweet voice. And pretty hair. More importantly, she was fun and lovely to be around. When everyone else had either gone home or into the basement, it was always a comfort to know that she was somewhere close by, even if he couldn't see her. That way, when he was inside these walls, John was never all alone. Sometimes he wished that he could compose his own music...

Suddenly, the mop slipped under the strain of his weight and hit the bucket he was also using, sending a small torrent of dirty water onto his leg. John nearly cursed in frustration, but something stopped him; like an instinct, or a natural censor. Instead he attempted to shake the water off of his jeans and mopped up the rest of the spill. It was time to get back out there anyway.

As he left the bathroom and walked down the hallway, rolling the bucket and mop behind him, John saw Charlize checking their work schedule. He offered a little hand wave from the hip as he shuffled along, saying, “Hey. Just finished the gents. I'll clean myself up so I can cook too, just in case anyone wants something.” He scooted past her, put away the mop and did exactly that. When he was done, though, he saw that no one had ordered anything yet, so he decided to head out into the bar and see who was there. Even after two years of working and living at the Abandoned Bar John still didn't recognize everyone.

Most of the regulars were here already; he saw Zaccar talking to the bartender. He liked Zaccar, from what he knew of him. He was serious but he wasn't actually mean. John was about to extend a proper greeting when the duffel bag caught his eye. He knew what that meant; Zaccar probably didn't want to be bugged today. Instead of calling out, John kept his greeting to a respectful nod and shifted his gaze elsewhere. There was the girl with the tattoos, John knew next to nothing about her. He didn't talk to her much at all, not because he didn't want to but because she looked like she never wanted to. That was all right, though. Some people needed their privacy. It looked like the guy with the name John could never remember was talking to her about some piece of paper. He wasn't sure about the other man either, he was pretty quiet most of the time. To see those two speaking to each other was a bit of an anomaly.

Another anomaly; the man John recognized as Kaden wasn't in his usual seat. Almost every time he came in he sat near the back, but this time someone else had taken it. Kaden seemed like a good guy to John, he wasn't mean, anyway, though he didn't always get his jokes.

There wasn't much else to do, and out of everyone who was there that day Kaden seemed like the safest person to talk to, aside from Charlize who was probably busy working. With that, John walked up to where Kaden was sitting and said to him, “I guess someone took your spot. I'll try to save it next time.”

Without even turning to face Shitsubo, she caught the piece of paper with her left hand. She had to admit, she was a little curious as to what this paper was. Even from simply touching it she could tell it had a magical property to it. What that magic was, however, would remain a mystery until she opened it. Clara unfolded the paper, careful not to tug or pull the edges of the ancient paper too hard so she wouldn't accidentally tear it. She laid the now unfolded paper on the counter and ran her hand over it, smoothing the paper, a little surprised to find a Sigil written on the paper.

"Huh. A Sigil." She commented absently as she looked over the paper. It was a simple Sigil. One that most Sigilists were taught first, because if you failed at drawing it, it simply just created a loud noise and a small smoke cloud, not a potentially dangerous explosion like the rest of them. It was nothing special, and she didn't really want to spend her time off talking about a beginners sigil with someone she hardly cared for.

"Looks like a pretty standard sigil. Nothing special. Learned it when I was six. All it does is spout some harmless sparks." Though, even as she said that she wasn't entirely convinced herself. If she believed her eyes, then that was all that it was. Her instincts were telling her something different, however. They had never lead her wrong before, so perhaps there was something more to this? She had no idea what it could be really. "But...something...something is off with it." She said, studying the paper with concentration as she ran a hand down the faded pages.

"Where did you get this?" She asked, obviously intrigued. She was certain there was more to this than was obviously there, she just needed to figure out what. There was just one, more important question, she wanted to know first. "And why give it to me? What do you want?" She said, turning her head to look at him for the first time since he approached her.

Kaden wasn't the kind of person to get bored easily. So, despite sitting at an empty table with nothing to eat, drink, or really do, he wasn't bored. Well, technically he was doing something, he was listening. If people realized how much of an unapologetic eavesdropper he was, they'd probably find him extraordinarily creepy. Some already did, despite not knowing. He was currently listening in on a conversation between two people at the bar. Something about sigils. Currently, it was the most interesting thing going on. He doubted it would matter to him in the long run though.

He kept up his eavesdropping even as he saw someone walking over. Even as that person began speaking to him really. It would have looked like Kaden was completely ignoring every word he said. Until he was done, anyway. When John finished speaking, Kaden finally turned to face him.

"Oh, I hadn't noticed. I just figured I'd mix things up to day," Kaden said in a totally serious voice. "I guess my seat was taken. I'd better put a curse on them later." Of course, most people who knew Kaden knew he wasn't into curses, even though he was probably capable of learning a few, being a witch of sorts. "Can't let people just take my things unpunished after all." Still dead serious. "Anyway." He waved off his previous comments like he hadn't just been making threats that sounded a little too real. "For what reason has our local amnesiac chosen to speak to me?" Tactful, as always. "Anything interesting happen while I was gone?" His trips usually only lasted about two or three days, but still, it was worth asking while he had someone's attention.

“Hey. Just finished the gents. I'll clean myself up so I can cook too, just in case anyone wants something.”

John's voice startled Charlize out of the blur of voices and sounds that were filling the bar. Revealing a bit of a jump in her bones as her head turned to look at him. He scooted past her as he put his supplies away in the closet next to her. Her gaze traveled down, "Yep, that butt is still fantastic." she thought to herself, cracking a smile at her own perverted thoughts. Could anyone blame her? She caught herself staring and shook her head before speaking, "Oh, alright John-" Charli started, "Whatever you need to do, we're pretty much written down for everything on the to do list today!" she cheered with a smirk, this was how it was usually every day.

"Oh, and Jo-" Charlize started, trailing off as she realized he had already walked away. Her teeth sunk into her lip as she looked back at the paper pinned to the wall. "Nevermind" she whispered to herself. She was going to tell him how she had heard his song again this morning. How every time she heard it, it brought her some real life. Not the life that just kept your body working and your brain functioning- but the kind of life that made you happy you were here. Even if the reason you were here was a terrible one.

Her current task was a mundane one; restocking. It didn't take too much thought, but Charlize enjoyed it quite a bit. Quickly she took inventory of the items she needed to pick up in a data bank that rested inside her head. The idea that moving one box from one place to another in just that simple of fashion could make the outcome of the day run smooth or terribly was such a fascinating idea to the young girl. She quite wondered if life was like that same process. You move along, transferring your boxes from place to place. Of course, there will be days you mess up and move the box to the wrong spot but, there will be other days where you get to...

"Charlize?" the guy working the supply area asked timidly. "What? Oh. Sorry! Let me uh.." Charli had been wrapped up in her thoughts all the way downstairs to the hub in which all the multiple doings of the order resigned. She blinked rapidly as she accessed her data bank that had been installed into her head that fateful night. The bank consisted of three editable ports. Port one was memories, all things she wanted to keep safe belonged in port one. Port two was physicality, mentalities, and practicalities. This included things such as knowing how to walk, knowing how to speak, knowing not to punch yourself in the face when the doorbell rings. Port two was a no touch zone, as Charlize didn't want to corrupt any files that could mess her up in anyway. Port three was her short term memory slot. She often used this for just storing things for the day and week. It was by the weekend she'd lay in her bed and sort out all the information and place it in correct spot she felt fit.

Needing napkins? Trash. Some drunken werewolf trying to hump her leg? Trash. John's butt? Port one.

Charlize's eyes stopped blinking as she gave the man a grin, "I need: new ice scoop, 1 blender blade, 3 bar stools, 1 pour top, 2 orders of garnishes, soap, napkins, toilet paper, cleaning rags, and 24 shot glasses." There was a bachelor party the other night, and the vampires really don't have any respect for things when they get crazy. The man raised his eyebrows, "Alright, I'll start on that right now. Did you want me to send some guys up with you or-" Charli interrupted, "Oh no, no. I'll get it. I'll take a few trips, I don't mind. I need the exercise!" Eventually the man began placing things on the counter in boxes, and packages, and Charlize started to bring them up back into the bar that was increasingly becoming more busy as the time wore on.

It had been a long and rather busy day at the doctor’s office. Nothing worth mentioning had happened; a boy with a dislocated shoulder, a woman with an ear infection, a man with gallstones, and so on. There were days however, although rare, that a patient came in with less ordinary complaints. Strange markings, ultra-realistic dreams, or not being able to sleep at all were examples of such complaints.

Before the accident, Nora Darby, one of the general practitioners working at the doctor’s office, would have taken these cases lightly: probably just flea- or tick-bites, a wild, drunk night, and stress or too much caffeine.
But now that she knew of such extraordinary cases such as herself, now that she really started to believe all of the rumours about magical creatures wandering the streets and alleys of London, she couldn’t help but wonder if those complaints did not have a supernatural cause.
Could the markings perhaps be due to a werewolf or vampire? (But then, do not most people usually not survive a werewolf attack, or become one of them, if they have been infected by the scratch or bite of one of these beings?) Maybe the ultra-realistic dream had been a vision from a spirit, trying to get in contact with them, or maybe it had not been a dream at all, but rather something real but which had seemed so unrealistic, so dream-like, that the person had taken it for a dream? And could the lack of sleep possibly be the cause of a demon, lurking in the shadows, pressing a weight on their mind, making them unable to sleep?

All these thoughts had crosses Nora’s mind innumerable times during the first few months after the accident, after the evening she encountered a deer which had led her to her destination, the same deer which she had later crashed into with her car on that same evening, only to find herself have gained the ability to transform into the same animal the morning she woke up.
She had wondered if she wasn’t starting to lose her sanity. Surely it was natural that the event had left a big impact on her, but was she not taking things a bit too far?

Almost a year later Nora had stumbled across a bar, unlike any of those she had entered before. The place confirmed the idea she had had over the past few months, that it was impossible for her to be the only person in all of London with such an unusual gift. It had given her mind some peace, now that she knew, and from then on she starte to frequently visit the bar, often on days when work was stressful, on days like today.

As Nora exited the small office, she let out a sigh of relief, glad that her shift was over. She stretched a bit, before saying her co-workers goodbye and heading to her car. She opened the doors, placing her coat and bag on the seat next to the driver’s seat, settled down in the beige, leather seat, and put the key in its place, ready to leave, when a thought struck her mind.
“I definitely could use a strong one...” she thought as she retreated her keys. The bar was only a few blocks away, so there was no need driving there. Besides, there often was no space near to park the car, and after sitting all day, Nora could use some exercise.

She got out again, taking her belongings with her, locked the car and started walking. The sound of her footsteps echoed over the fairly empty parking lot. A gentle breeze played with her ginger hairs, lifting them up like autumn leaves.
While she traversed the streets, she looked up at the old buildings. They formed quite the contrast to the doctor’s office which had recently been renovated. The bar looked like it had been around for a while as well, she thought, as she was now standing at the entrance.

A familiar scent greeted Nora when she went in. She looked around for a nice spot, meeting the faces of guests she had seen before, some more often than others, during the past two years she had come here.
After she ordered a drink, she took a seat at a table a slight distance away from most of the people, but still within audible reach.
She took a sip from the cold, small glass and closed her eyes, the sounds of the room slipping in her ears and filling her head.

I paused, she's the third one to trust her instincts. "You pass the first test, Clara," I say as I click my fingers in the still air. Suddenly, within a split second, the paper dissapears from her hand and appears into mine, as if it was always there to begin with. "Intrigued now, I wager, let's see how you fare on the second one," I tell her. I click my fingers and the paper once again dissapears from my hands into hers, seemlessly as if it always existed there.

"Three hours. You have three hours to figure out not only what that symbol is, but what it does. No, before you ask, it is not teleportation." With that said, I twist my chair around and head off, quietly slipping another piece of paper across the bar. If she's the one, I need to know how much danger she's in. I settle back into my original spot, finally relaxing a bit. Too many people looking at me, it's always uncomfortable.

Cyder had been waiting outside the bar for some time, hidden from prying eyes. He couldn't decide if he truly wished to enter the building or not. A red apple is tossed carelessly between two hands while he thinks, head tilting from side to side to follow the motion of the apple. Currently his black bit of cloth was shaped like a jacket, a very large jacket. The hood hung well over his eyes, the sleeves were far too long for his arms, and with how he was currently balled up, it looked like he was in a very large dress! The end of the jacket went to his feet. But as he stood up, the length of the jacket past his knees would start to detract. Within a couple of moments, the black fabric was shrunk back up to just past his hips. Though the hood and the sleeves seemed to remain quite long, not that he really cared about how he looked.

Without skipping a beat he turns to head towards the door, but stops short. He now clutched the apple in his grasp, it was a wonder how the fruit didn't crumble. To enter the bar or not to enter the bar, that was the question. He had been here before, it hadn't been to bad. A bit boring, but it wasn't chaotic anything... Cyder suddenly found himself pacing back and forth, switching the apple between his pale hands. He quickly stopped though, counting out loud.

"One... two... four... seven... eleventeen... fiftyteen..." He manages out before sucking in a rather sharp breath, he opens the door and slips into the bar. Even after all these years, he still couldn't count correctly unless he was counting souls. His bare feet skimmed over the floor was he walked directly towards the bar itself, tugging his hood down a bit more to shadow his face better. But anyone who had decent eyesight would still be able to see his porcelain white skin, it was a small relief to have everything covered aside from the tops of his bare feet, though. He still didn't like shoes, even in this day and age... and that was not likely to change anytime soon.

He didn't dare toss a glance anywhere else in the bar as he slid onto one of the stools. He sat quite contently though as he leaned against the bar, quite easily preoccupying himself with the apple as he sets it on the counter and starts to lightly roll it between his sleeve covered hands.