Cheshire

Renee nodded as Evander told her the cost. She broke gaze on the man to dig for the money he wanted in her bag. The longer she stood there the longer her instincts told her to run and fast. She finally scrounged up the cash and placed it on the counter, collecting her books and making a note to grab her credit card which she promptly shoved into her bag again. She smiled timidly to Evander, "Thank you very much."

As soon as the transaction was complete Renee quickly turned on her heel and walked out to the street as quickly as possible without looking like she was running away. But at least she had her books and had figured out who it was that gave her the vibe.
 
The sun, it was bright, the air.... dryer than closer to the lake.

Dressed in a very haphazard fashion a figure made its was though Cheshire. He just walked into town, no transport just walking in with sandals, suit pants, string vest, poncho and beanie. His hair was carefully tucked into the beanie but the small part sticking out was dripping wet. He walked strait down the street carefully looking at the buildings while completely ignoring the signs as he made his way through town.
 
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Evander managed to wait until the girl was out of sight of his shop, but as soon as she was, he gathered books and the pen he used to write notes in the margins of his favorites. He wasted as little tie as possible, remembering to clutch to him a rain jacket, galoshes, and an umbrella. If it rained, he would not be caught walking in it if he could avoid it but just in case. Evander hurriedly flicked his sign to read 'Come Back Another Time, We're Closed!' and began to power walk to his destination.

The town did not interest him much anymore, but there was still something about it that pulled him in, like a fish on a hook, each time he tried to leave. It wasn't the people, he thought, he had seen generation of those come screaming from their mother's stomachs, live briefly, and whither away on their beds clutching the hands of their greedy children whose thoughts hung upon the will. He didn't know what it could be and he remembered vaguely that he had been looking into that, before he got distracted with Voltaire. But who wouldn't get distracted, the man was brilliant. Surely he couldn't be blamed for that. Evander made a mental note to continue looking, when he got back to the shop.

By now, Evander was at the edges of the graveyard, looking around with a good measure of cheer. It would be quiet here! His sepulcher was on a pleasant little plot near the middle. The townspeople of that time had even expressed their feelings toward him by placing a charming replica of their religion's fallen angels on top. Or had they called them demons? He rather liked it, either way.
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As Dressden walked through the street, a red bouncy ball bounced toward him and stopped at his feet. A young girl wearing a skirt that nearly touched the ground ran up, long blonde hair and violet eyes. She stopped beside him and picked up the ball. "Hello, sir!" she greeted. He was a curious man. He didn't smell like the other people in town, or the other people Grandma called "humans". She remembered he was the one her Grandma had warned her to stay away from. But why? This man was handsome, even if he did smell like the lake.
 
Shayne lay on the cold stone, breathing slowly for all the pain still pulsing through her nervous system. As she checked each limb for the ability to move, wiggling toes and fingers in succession, she heard a woman's voice.

"Good morning, there," the owner of the unknown voice mumbled cheerily enough for Shayne to identify that she probably meant no harm, though cheerily would not have been the first word to come to the prone woman's mind in description of the rather flat, quiet tone.

Shayne's head jerked upward, the expression on her face caught somewhere between a rodent's panic driven capriciousness and a feline's irk at having her fur ruffled in the wrong direction. The voluntary pariah's stomach flopped when she realized this new comer was definitely mumbling at her, hell… she probably even expected a response. Her jaw dropped open, but no spoken words found their way out. Instead, as she took note of the girl's somber apparel and countenance, a loud croak escaped the all too often unused vocal chords.

Sydney glanced around as if looking for something. "Are you.. uh... visiting?"

Snapping her mouth closed and hoping the second try turned out more sociable than the first, she responded to the question a little too loudly. "NO! I'm living!"
She blinked at her own pitiful awkwardness and tried again, "I'm living here. Or… around here. On the other side of town… which isn't really around here at all, but… I'm not visiting. I'm permanent. Permanently here. I was looking for my breakfast. But not permanently looking for breakfast. It becomes lunch when you look for too long."

When she finally had the sense to shut herself up, she just pulled her lips into a pucker at the side of her face and pushed her brows into an almost pained expression. She hoped her verbal diarrhea had left something worth responding to. As the thin, dirt-covered girl stood looking on Shayne, the latter pushed herself to her knees, a new dark purple bruise forming along the jaw line of her left cheek as they spoke. Overwhelmed entirely with dull aches and throbs, she shut her eyes. As the new arrival's face changed with whatever comprehension she'd had over the words still barely off Shayne's lips, the livelier of the two struggled with her strange internal sense of fate and justice. When she unclosed her eyes once more, she leapt again into the now one-sided conversation. Throughout her life, she had developed no notion of when to speak and when not to, so as was typical she presently sighed deeply and suddenly blurted out in one long breath still before Sydney could respond,

" You look more beaten up and worse off than me, and I just pan-caked into solid rock- so," She squinted and dusted herself off as she spoke. Since this girl had witnessed one of Shayne's many self-induced near-death experiences, and Shayne was still here to experience another inevitable accident, she felt as though fate demanded something of her in return. It seemed most logically that destiny demanded appeasement from her by way of helping the ragged witness that stood before her. Not wanting to make her next statement since she was not in the habit of being unnecessarily kind, she forced the rest of her sentence out reluctantly, "can I help you with anything? Breakfast maybe? Travel? Anything?"

She was plently aware that the request probably seemed to come from nowhere and was not the common flow of conversation in a first meeting, but she had been bestowed a new mission by the hands of fate and she was anxious to complete her required task and be rid of this human's presence.
 
Emily continued along down the street, checking out stores that did not really stick out to her in her mind. They were rather quaint and normal compared to the book store, and the stuff that was being sold was not very memorable. As she came out of yet another boring shop, she saw a young girl and a man who seemed different, like the person who owned the book store different. Okay, something's not right about that dude, either, Emily discerned as she watched the blonde pick up her ball. Should I get involved in this? I mean, it's none of my business, but . . ., Emily could not stop herself as she began to walk closer to the two, concerned about the girl's safety.
 
She was small, young. Even by the standards of a race that lived for mere decades. Innocence and naivety, helpless and gullible. The perfect prey, but it was not food he sought this evening.

"Hello..... child." he said uncertainly, sure her greeting had been in english even if it had been a single word. His grasp of the modern tongue incomplete.

"This settlement....... Cheshire?"
 
Sydney's watchful silence might have been unnerving. After all, she didn't hide the fact that she was staring, nor that she was examining. Like she was picking up every detail and putting it to mind. Almost reading thoughts and knowing what the girl was thinking.

She couldn't, obviously. Sydney was probably just as confused as Shayne. Especially when the girl so quickly babbled a load of nonsense before offering breakfast. Sydney looked down at herself. Her clothes covered in dirt and leaves from sleeping outside over night probably didn't help appearances. She hadn't bathed in a few days. Maybe it was true and she did look a mess.

"I could use breakfast." Sydney admitted. "And a map of the town for later?"
 
The girl looked up at him and smiled. She nodded. "Hmm hmm. This is Cheshire. My name is Alice." She turned in time to see Emily approach. "Hello, Miss!" It was nice to see some new people around town! People came and people went. These two were just in time for the fair and it was sure to be lots of fun!
 
Emily, seeing the girl calling her out, approached the two. Emily put on a friendly face as she finally got close enough with the two to form a group.

"Hello," Emily said to both of them. "So, are you two siblings?" Emily asked, wondering what the girl was doing out with the strange man before them.
 
Alice giggled and shook her head. "Siblings?!" That was so funny, there was a grin on her face so big her eyes nearly disappeared! "Hehe, no. My name is Alice and I've lived here all my life! My grandma owns and operates the bed and breakfast here. Maybe you've seen her around? You're welcome to come by and meet her!" And she was extending that invitation to both of them.
 
"Hi..."

He greeted Emily with a single wave that rocked his entire body with its enthusiasm but came closer to the motion someone makes when washing a window than a greeting.

He followed Alice's words and sighed. He had known someone who lived there once, too long ago for these humans to understand.
 
A map?! I don't have a map.... Shayne thought to herself. An imagined demon hissed in her ear, "Then find one. You're obligated."
A bitterly cross look spreading directly across her face she replied, quite loudly and from Sydney's perspective to what must have seemed no one in particular, "Oh just can it! I know, I know!"

She froze. Looking back at Sydney wildly, she realized that she looked quite crazy. "...er, I mean... yes. A map. I'll take you to get one."

She shoved her hand into her pocket, checking to see if she had any cash on her. Luckily she did, so she wouldn't have to show this fleshy one the whereabouts of her stash. She pulled it out and quickly counted the crinkled wad of green and the few jangly bits of silver and copper. "I'll feed you first. Lets get moving, .....whats your name?"
 
Father Hammond was at the graveyard at sun up. He hadn't slept since Uriel had given him more time, he had visions he assumed of what was going to happen. He moved to each grave in turn that he had held a funeral for, saying a prayer to each, he had done this several times before, and it would be nearly noon before he was finished.

He saw Evander enter the graveyard, but didn't give him much notice at first. He closed his eyes shortly after as he began praying again, and visions flooded his mind again. He didn't get any particular meaning out of it, but he knew it was bad, and that it somehow involved the other person in the graveyard. A shiver ran through him before he managed to calm down and resume praying for the dead.
 
After an awkward look from the old woman behind the counter, Bornes was able to get a room. He paced back, getting his things and going upstairs, kicking the door open and tossing his things inside. After this, he shut the door and locked it, laying on the bed with a huge sigh of relief.
Afterward, he went back to the bed, unbuckling his belt and grabbing his tail from his pants, stretching the long black appendage between his legs. He then took his sunglasses off and tucked them in the collar of his shirt, laying back down on the bed, on his stomach.

He was uncomfortable still and hot, sweat still all over him. But he was tired first and foremost, so it didn't take long for him to slip into the darkness of slumber.
During that time, he had a dream.
It was dark. There were glowing eyes. Like a monster's they floated. But rather than red, they were an intimidating green.
A snarl.
A snap of teeth that he could only imagine belonged to a large dog. Saliva was thrown toward him. The spit seemed acidic.

Then, a change of scenery.
A church.
It was in the afternoon. 3:00 pm. The sun's highest point.
Q sat on the steps to the cathedral, large sniper rifle over his shoulder. His glasses were off, his eyes closed.
Crying without tears.
Pouting.

A religious figure came by, probably a priest. Put his hand on Q's free shoulder after observing for a while.
"What troubles you, my son?"

Q grit his teeth, hunched his shoulders.
"I can't.... I can't stop it..."

Q looked up, sobbing, and finally opened his eyes. They were glowing green. They looked straight into the sun, burning out Q's retinas.
"Holy Ra..."
He woke up, flinching. Instinctively, his hand went to his eyes. He sighed with relief that he could see, and rolled over and put his sunglasses on. With his fevers had come nightmares. Ones that didn't make sense. This one was not much different.

He went over to his seabag and got out a change of clothes, quickly taking a cold shower. About twenty minutes later, he went out in his new clothes-- dress shirt and slacks, tail hidden in a pants leg, knife sheath at belt -- and searched for a place to eat around here.

He passed by the graveyard, noticing a priest.

Bornes lit a cigarette, taking a drag before pushing his sunglasses up to his face again, anxiously finger brushing his hair to try and cover the scar across his face. When he was done, he watched the man pray at what seemed like every grave stone.

The twenty four year old stuck the cigarette in his lips and shoved his hands into his pocket as he stared.

The same priest as in the dream...? he thought to himself.
Didn't that voice say he would know who the person he was supposed to meet was?

But then... Wait. Why was he following the advice of some disembodied dream voice? It was all supernatural crap he didn't believe in, wasn't it?

It said it could cure my disease, he tried to convince himself.
Suppose I'm just humoring myself. It's not as if I have anything to lose anymore.

Bornes took in a long drag, exhaling the smoke through his nose and headed toward the priest.
 
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Evander watched f\Father Hammond, his eyes narrowed while he observed his ministrations. Each and every grave, Evander thought. It was almost sad. In a way, Evander felt a touch of pity for him, his life so consumed by this idea. Religion, Evander thought, was really no more than an idea you allow to take root in your mind. It lets its tendrils wander over every aspect of living, from food to sleep, there was no break in it if you were truly consumed by it. Every facet of your life you reworked to adapt to it, covering places in symbols from these ideas so that you could never forget, for even a moment. It seemed very distasteful, thought Evander. But, perhaps it was like reaping souls. That he could understand, even when he shook it, the need overtook him. However, judging by the people, he did not think it to be much like his constant aching memory of soul reaping.

"Father, you know my nature. I would be very disappointed in you if you slipped up and said a single holy word over my supposed sepulcher" Evander stated calmly, watching. But then, with dawning realization, he saw the methodic nature. "But these are all funerals you held yourself..." he trailed off quietly, tilting his head to one side. It was one thing to pray for the deceased, quite another to be selective.
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Bornes stopped in his tracks. Still a distance away from the priest when another man began to speak to him.
Q stood in place, cigarette dangling from his lip, watching and listening.
Maybe this isn't the right guy, he thought to himself. If it had been, why would someone else approach him?
That's how ate worked, right? If it was all 'meant' to happen, it would happen?

Assuming any of that bull actually existed.
Bornes took his left hand from his pants pocket, taking a last drag from his cigarette and tossed the filter on the ground as he exhaled, later stubbing out the butt with his boot. He placed his hands back into his pockets, staring again.

Something was odd about the man talking to the priest now, but Bornes couldn't exactly place it.
Actually, something was odd about this entire town. After tilting his head to the side a bit, he gave a slight hmph and turned around, intending to leave the graveyard and go back to his previous mission - finding a place to eat around here.

For a town fair, it certainly wasn't very lively.

First minute or so. xP
 
[bg=#000000]The windscreen-wipers frantically move back and forth, desperately trying to keep the glass clear of the sheets of rain that pour from the heavens. An impossible task, really.

The car is a rental, a Ford Focus, obtained under a false name using a stolen card. Untraceable, the way I like it. I am like a ghost in all this, an unknown entity moving towards my goal.

Cheshire, Arkansas. Where I will find what I'm seeking and exact my revenge.

My mind goes back to my last conversation with my mysterious benefactor, just a few hours before. He informed me that he could not risk contacting me in Cheshire, for fear of discovery by our mutual enemies. I am now on my own in this; I must find out what they are planning and stop them at all costs, and I doubt I'm going to get any help with it.

But I'm okay with that. I'm trained for this.

I was made for this.

The drive continues for several more hours in silence, and I am left to my thoughts. The anger I've felt since that night still boils, but it seems slightly placated as I drive towards my goal. A good sign, I think. And as the headlights light up the sign 'WELCOME TO CHESHIRE', I am certain of this.

The monsters don't know what's about to hit them.


Carlos arrives in Cheshire.
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A map blew in the wind across the graveyard, snaking it's way between gravestones and over crosses. It found itself tumbling across the path of Shayne and Sydney, where it wobbled about in the air before tumbling up the trunk of a nearby tree, flapping along a branch and being pinned onto a small branch.

The Cat snickered audibly as he pushed the piece of paper onto the small stub of wood protruding from the branch. He was going to enjoy watching the pair trying to climb the tree to reach this map that they seemed to hold in high regard.

Shayne was always especially fun to watch, especially when she had to deal with other people. He circled his way down the tree and let himself be visible atop a tombstone. Grinning proudly at the humans.
 
Vinny slowly opened his eyes as the sunlight was bright and awoke him, as he sat up in the tree he froze he looks around "yes I can't believe I got away I'm so happy" he thought. He jumped off he's tree and looks up at the sun then down man that suns bright he told himself. He starts to walk around to see what's around his new land unknowingly heading towards Cheshire.