The girl, Sandra, gasped in shock as Hiram’s icy fingers tightened about her mind, dropping the file she had been reading to the floor with an audible clatter. His spectral, flickering figure passed immediately into her form, caught within it as the ghost took control. It felt… strange to occupy living flesh once more, a heart beating in sudden terror at the unexplained, the ache of feet compressed into too-tight shoes, the antiseptic smell of the long, white hallway. One of the others… those he had not chosen, troubled him with some question, concerned it seemed for her companion‘s well being, “Sandra, are you all right?… Sandra?” The ghost fumbled for the words to form a muttered excuse, shocked in spite of himself at the high, girlish voice that issued from his throat, but it seemed sufficient to satisfy Diane’s curiosity. Having successfully disengaged from the rest of the group, he was soon making his way back down the corridor once more.

The shoes were an irritation, that much was becoming obvious, pinching the toes of each foot inward and with a high heel that seemed to leave him permanently off-balance as he teetered down the hallway. Physical discomfort aside, however, his choice seemed sound enough for it should be some time before a visiting intern would be missed and longer still before the hospital authorities troubled themselves to conduct any sort of concerted search. They were halfway back to the ward before it finally dawned on Hiram that his new means of transportation must be terrified, her mind still struggling feebly against its body’s usurpation. “Listen, my dear,” his voice resounded within her mind, strong and firmly indifferent, “I’m simply going to borrow you for the next hour. You’ll come to no harm and, who knows, you might even learn something. That’s why you’re here, to learn?” Finding the corridor deserted, presumably because most of the hospital staff must already have left for lunch, Hiram took the precaution of first glancing through the door's small window before raising a fist to knock twice. Finally finding his voice, a rich tenor which strained unnaturally at Sandra’s vocal cords, the phantom called out softly, “Annabell, it’s me, Hiram. Can I come in?”

OOC: If there is anyone about then Hiram will wait, discretely reading the file, until they’ve gone past before trying to draw Annabell’s attention.

Ghost
Longchester Hospital for the Insane
From the glass on the door Hiram could see where Annabell sat on her bed, staring into nothing at all. She tilted her head as she heard some girl voice mentioning Hiram’s name. She smiled slightly and said that the door was open. As the girl walked in, Hiram could see through the girl’s eyes how Annabell’s face turned slightly surprised.

“Hiram?” Annabell said in a low voice. She did not seem to really understand why this girl would say she was the kind looking doctor she had seen earlier this morning, or how that girl could even know the name of the ghost. Finally she started smiling, almost laughing. “Hiram, you look ridiculous,” she said, holding back the laughter.

---

Vampire
Twa Corbies, Old Longchester
Ren signaled the entourage to leave so that he could talk to the newly arrived person alone. That person looked rather young, perhaps in his mid-twenties. But when Ren looked into his eyes, he looked like he had seen more than a hundred years old geezer.

“I must admit, mister Majere,” the man said with his humble voice, “you are not exactly what I had imagined you would be like.” He slowly removed his leather gloves and neatly placed them on the table. “See, I work for a very powerful person, mister Majere. So powerful in fact that your superior is hardly a glimpse in comparison. And said person has taken an interest in you.” The man looked at his watch and placed his hands neatly on the table where Ren could easily see them. “I am afraid I do not have the information promised to you. I admit I did not think about asking for them before shooting the bum that had them.” He grinned slightly but never changed his humble tone of voice. “Oh, dear, where are my manners? I forgot to introduce myself. You can call me Dorian, Dorian Grey.”

---

Werewolf
Somewhere in the Fieldriver district
William’s eyes stared deep into Eliza and his gaze pierced deep into her mind, and she gave away a low growl. This man somehow frightened her. He was overly confidant about his abilities. Sure, she knew that she would get totaled if she would fight him, but thinking that he could take on the whole pack seemed more like insanity. But if she would not get help very soon, this fight might end too soon with her downfall.

She started sweating, and gulped. “N-no single person can defeat the Holocaust,” she said as if she was trying to intimidate her opponent, but her stammering gave her away. “You wouldn’t even last a minute against Roke alone.” She tried to stand ready, but what confident she had when she got there had been diminished greatly.

Another smell caught William’s attention. The girl did not seem to notice this, perhaps more occupied at the immediate threat. It was not too far away and was heading towards them. Another werewolf.

---

Mage
Jaded Dragon Restaurant, Downtown
Although the restaurant known as Jaded Dragon did offer English breakfast, Ryozo had never tasted it even though he ate breakfast there every time he could. There is no way that I can be convinced of eating that cultural crap, he used to say but he did not comment on it this time. In fact, he did not say much. Just ate his breakfast.

It was not really because he did not like talking. Quite the opposite, he loved talking to his apprentice. But Legendarious seemed somewhat troubled. He was just waiting for him to tell him what was on his mind.

“So,” he finally said, halfway through his food, “how were things in my absence? Anything worth reporting?”

As William caught the scent, he kept staring at the girl. He didn't give away the fact that he had to hurry this up. He could easily take on two of those weaklings, of course, but he wasn't here to kill his own kind. Or, at least, not these individuals of his kind. Sighing, he tried resorting to a bit more peaceful approach.

"Listen", he said. "I don't want to kill you and your friends. I'm looking for someone and I think he passed through here. As soon as I find out more, I'm leaving for good."

He took his hands out of his pockets, but made sure the sleeves of his trenchcoat covered his weapons. Good thing he'd had the sleeves lengthened. He didn't want to scare the girl off by being overly prepared to fight.

"The person I'm looking for is a Blood Talon like me, goes by the name of Richard. If he came through here, he probably started a bar-brawl or something of the sort."

He paused for a moment and looked away.

"Well...", he continued. "Either a bar-brawl or cold-blooded murder. Lost any of your packmates recently?"

The Jaded Dragon had a strict policy when it came to these two when they came in don’t sit them near anyone and only come when they call. It was because they seemed to always talked strange unless they were talking to you and they seemed to always know when someone was listening or approaching. They always tipped better if left alone.

“Well there hasn’t been much that has happened in your absence that I know of. I have a matter I do need to discuss with you though. I’m just not sure of how to put it but I had a strange dream last night that awoke me early this morning. I have meditated on it and recalled all of it but still cant seem to figure it out.”

Ren listened to the man talk, his face emotionless, as if it was cut in stone. Even his eyes did not move at all beyond the normal. But on the in side, his mind was racing, desperately trying to process all the new information and try to find a way to get an edge on the man somehow.

"Well then mister Dorian"

Ren said, intentionally using his first name to send a small subliminal message as he picked up a small glass, filled with the sweet red liquid he loved and adored.

"How exactly did you expect me to be?"

He said, allowing himself to show the slight hint of a smile while his mind raced on. He asked about the least important thing not only because he was curious, but mainly to buy himself time to think about the rest the man had said. There where many men more powerful than Marcus in the world, but he couldn't find a logical reason why one would take interest in him. Being noticed by the rich and powerful could of course help you step up to their level quicker, but it was also risky beyond words.

He would have to be Very careful

Pausing briefly to ensure that the ward was otherwise unoccupied before making himself known, Hiram could see his new patient, Annabell, staring blankly into thin air. Her mind was in desperate need of rest, that much in plain, of his help in resolving the trauma that the incompetents and indolents who ran his hospital had allowed to fester for a decade and more. With nothing to gain by tarrying further the ghost announced his presence and, once invited to enter, raised one small white hand to turn the door handle and continue into the room.

“Hiram?” Annabell looked up in astonishment, and for the space of a few heartbeats the spectre struggled to comprehend why, “Hiram, you look ridiculous.” A prickle of slight irritation ran over the ghost and he felt Sandra stiffen slightly. No, he reminded himself, it was good that she could find a funny side to the situation, it would make it that much easier for her to open up to him and speed the progress of her counselling. Grinning back, he replied, “Simply put, my dear, it’s easier for me to talk this way. Next time I call by, it will probably be with someone else.” Drawing up a seat he continued, “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to hear a little more about your dreams.”

OOC: Not sure if you want to handle this conversation on a blow by blow account or just tell me what happens overall.

If the latter then:
Hiram will ask Annabell a few more questions about her dreams, trying to find out what she sees when she has these nightmares. He’ll then try to move on to talk about her life at the hospital: how often she’s able to sleep, if she has any family or friends who visit her and what her family are like. If he gets the feeling that he’s brought up anything she’d rather not discuss then he’ll try to move the conversation on as quickly and smoothly as Sandra’s social attributes will allow.

Ghost
Longchester Hospital for the Insane
Hiram said that he could speak more easily like that, although how he spoke and his choice of words did not exactly fit the young woman he had possessed. He asked Annabell about her nightmares. Annabell did not look like she wanted to talk about her dream but looked at the opposite wall that was full of pictures she had drawn with her crayons. Looking at the pictures, Hiram could see that not one of them seemed to be happy.

“These are all nightmares I have had since I was moved here,” Annabell said. Most of the pictures on the wall were pictures of something unnatural, or even monstrous. The picture of the wolf that she had drawn earlier that morning, a monster with four eyes and a bony tail, and a man dressed like a doctor but with a charcoal-black face and holding a large knife. “The dream I had last night was a really bad one,” Annabell said like she was struggling to get the words out of her mouth. “In it, I knew I was going to die. I knew... and I couldn’t move.” Tears started to run down her face and she covered her eyes in her palms. “I was so scared.”

Trying to stop her from crying too much, Hiram changed to subject to her family. It took some time but Annabell managed to stop crying and start speaking. “My dad is the Chancellor at the University. He is always so busy with work. Even more so after...” She hesitated and bit her lower lip. “After Danny’s death.” Her face seemed like her mind had suddenly slipped out, but suddenly it brightened up again. “My mother has been very nice to me and James. She used to hug us and kiss us a lot than usual at first, but then she started to do less of it.”

Annabell looked like her world had just crumbled, but then she brightened up again as quickly as one would blink an eye. “What about you Hiram?” she said rather joyfully. “Do you have any family or dreams you would like to share?”

---

Vampire
Twa Corbies, Old Longchester
“Please, mister Majere,” Dorian said calmly, “just call me Dorian.” He moved around a bit in his seat, like if he felt it was uncomfortable. “I’ll admit,” he said with his humble voice, “that I imagined you would look more professional and stiff, not lose and without care. When my superior asked me to contact you, I thought that he wanted someone who looked like he had the skills that we needed.” Again he moved in his seat and his face started to look a bit embarrassing. “How about offering me something to drink? A bottle of fine wine perhaps?”

Without any wait, Dorian stood up and walked towards the bar counter. From there he got himself a glass and a bottle of red wine he found in one of the cabinets. He then sat down again and poured some of the wine into his glass. “I would offer you some,” he said, “but as far as I know, you prefer something alive.”

---

Werewolf
Somewhere in the Fieldriver district
Eliza looked stunned. She slowly lowered her blades and stood at ease. It was like she was about to say something when somebody ran passed the corner. A young man, although fully bearded, with a sword strapped over his back.

“Bloody ‘ell, woman,” he said as he unsheathed his weapon, “not all of us can run as fast as ye’ can. We ar’ supposed ta be a team ‘ere an’ that is a bit tough when ye’ start running off like that.” He kept his eyes on William while he spoke, but then noticed that Eliza had neither answered him nor taken her position for a possible fight. “Eliza,” he said hesitantly, “what’s goin’ on?”
“I think he knows something about that beast in the woods,” she said, almost without any mind to it. “I think he can help us.”
“What did ‘e say?” asked the newly arrived man.
“He described a werewolf who with a destructive nature,” answered Eliza.

“Well, then,” said the man and sheathed his sword again while walking a little closer to William (but still keeping safe distance), “I think ye’ better start sharin’ or we will ask ye’ to get the ‘ell out of ‘ere.”

---

Mage
Jaded Dragon Restaurant
Ryozo listened to every word that Piers said as he described his dream in much detail. Ryozo’s face seemed like it was thinking about every detail and thinking about them very hard. In between he continued finishing his breakfast. “Listen,” he finally said after some thinking, “this dream may mean nothing at all. It might mean that you really want a girlfriend but that you are afraid that you would put her in danger, I do not know. But if you want to know what I think and I guess that you do since you came to me about this, it may have something to do with that prophecy about you.” His voice turned very low, almost into a whisper, at the very end. “The prophecy said that fear would destroy you, and I think this dream is acting like an emphasis or a reminder of that.” He drank some water and thought some more about the dream. “I will do some more research and see if I find something. That whole bit about you not belonging is challenging.”

Ryozo stood up from his table. “You just go out, get some air, and I will call you as soon as I find something.” At the end of his last word he quickly walked out while Legendarious was still sitting in his seat. Whether he noticed right away or after some time, Legendarious could see that Ryozo had made another daring escape from paying for the breakfast they ate.

Ren shook his head and stopped the man from pouring his drink, gesturing for him to wait a moment as he stood up and walked to the counter himself. He reached down into the cheapest and seemingly least used cabinets. From it he pulled a dusty bottle that obviously had not been moved for at least a couple of years and then walked back to the table. Placing the green bottle on the table in front of the man as he sat down.

" 'Avila, Syrah, Santa Barbara County..' A truly excellent wine, It's fresh, lifted, perfumed. The palate is attractive with buoyant berry fruits and acidity and it also has Good harmony with the ripe tannins in it. I hope this makes up for my lack of thought.."

He said with a slight smile on his face as he moved a bit in the chair to get more comfortable, although of course his dead body did not have a very great sense for discomfort.

"But back to me.."

He said, his grin still caressing his lips even though it was almost unnoticeable.

"And i ask you, what can a stiff professional do that a loose one cannot? Being stiff and rigid in this day and age is virtually suicide, one must be able to play the social games of this world like a violin, and to be able to fall into everyones graces if you are to succeed.."

He said, his grin widening slightly as he crossed his fingers, his elbows resting on the table and his chin resting on the crossed fingers.

"What use is a weapon so large and stiff it can only be used in the open planes of.. Direct confrontation"

He continued, giving it a slight laugh as he shook his head and added

"But tell me, what is it you need me to do? and more importantly why do you think i will actually do it?"

He said, underlining his authority slightly with ending the philosophical discussion before it even had a chance of beginning.

William was torn between two difficult choices. The newly arrived man seemed a capable fighter, or at least more capable than the woman. On the other hand, there was a "beast" in the woods which might be the person William had been hunting for about six months now.

Fight now, which was a rather certain possibility, or wait and POSSIBLY have the chance to fight his real prey. William's blood was boiling, but he knew he'd already made that choice. He'd made it six months ago when he decided to hunt down Richard instead of going back to his tribe in shame. He glared at the newcomer, every muscle in his body tense, but then seemingly relaxed. He really WAS aching for a proper fight.

"If this 'beast' is the man I'm looking for, then you need no other explaination than that he betrayed me and is going to die by my hand. If it's now the one I'm looking for, then hopefully i'll get a proper fight."

William was already starting to detest this "Holocaust", or whatever it was that they called themselves. It took every bit of willpower in him not to just tackle the two and ground n' pound them both...at the same time.

"So, where is the beast? Tell me and I'll be on my way and you will still be alive...for now"

“These are all nightmares I have had since I was moved here,” Annabell informed the spectre and Hiram followed her direction to scan the sketches that covered the wall behind him. Close to a score of grotesque, misshapen figures leered back from the girl’s pastel drawings and the phantom was unable to restrain a slight shudder. Here and there the ghastly apparitions seemed reminiscent of the ghost stories of his own boyhood- that blue, water-shrouded female figure could easily enough be mistaken for the haunt which had been said to prey on those that strayed too close to the river and that scythe-wielding scarecrow for the bogeyman of the slums to the south-west. In any event, Hiram reminded himself, he was too old by far for children’s stories and, still conscious of somehow being watched by dozens of graphite and pastel eyes, he forced himself to turn back to face Annabell as she continued her story.

“The dream I had last night was a really bad one,” Annabell went on, beginning to sob as she struggled to force the words. “In it, I knew I was going to die. I knew... and I couldn’t move. I was so scared.” She was crying now in earnest and the ghost was genuinely sorry to have upset her, if nothing else the show of sudden emotion was making him feel awkward, uncertain how to make her stop. “Annabell,” the doctor replied, a slightly flustered note in his otherwise fatherly tone, “whatever you saw, it was just a dream. None of it was real. Believe me, we’re going to get you through this.” Fumbling for something- anything- to make the crying stop Hiram tried to move the conversation on to the subject of her family: “say, why don’t you tell me a little about your parents. They must come and visit you here?”

When the sobbing finally ceased, none too soon for the phantom’s liking, Annabell began to answer his second question. Her father, it seemed, had responded to the tragedy by burying himself in work… not a bad way of dealing with things as far as Hiram was concerned, though it did nothing to provide the support needed to aid in his daughter’s recovery. Just then something strange seemed to come over the girl as her voice abruptly trailed off, her face suddenly vacant and lifeless. Fearing that she would collapse to the ground Hiram was about to burst from his seat to catch her when she fell, but Annabell remained standing. Her voice was suddenly very different… almost as though it came from an entirely different person. Had Scott and Sandra, the spectre could hardly help but wonder, borne the same empty, confused expression at the point of his own possession? Much as might irk him to admit it some other supernatural presence might indeed be possible, his own existence was itself testament to the fact. No, better by far to chalk it up to a sudden mood change, his newest patient was doubtless under a great deal of stress and erratic mood swings were to be expected as a result.

What about you Hiram?” she enquired, her voice suddenly upbeat, the tears still drying on her face. “Do you have any family or dreams you would like to share?” The question was unexpected but it seemed fair enough, Hiram was certainly in no position to demand that she answer his questions without revealing a little about himself in return.

“Well, I was married, quite some years ago,” the spirit began in a leisurely tone, checking the pockets of Sandra’s blazer for a cigarette pack that was, of course, not there. “We would have liked to have had a son or daughter. But, well, we don’t always get quite what we might wish for. My parents were good people, of course my father was never quite the same after the war… shell shock, you see.” Watching Annabell’s face closely for any hint of a reaction he went on, “I don’t dream much, haven’t since I passed on. It’s probably just as well, really, I have enough trouble remembering we’re not still living in the thirties as things are. I swear, every time someone turns on a radio I half expect to hear Stanley Baldwin’s voice.”

“Now, Annabell, let me ask you something: could you draw me a picture of yourself with your father and mother and brother James? I’d like to see you all together as a family.”

OOC: Having just read over the game thread again one thing I’ve noticed is that Hiram’s coming across as a somewhat more sympathetic character than I’d originally intended. Rest assured that he is still a fairly reprehensible creature (hence the low mortality)… it’s just his most human face (as a doctor and a family man) that’s come out in play so far.

Piers wasn’t surprised by Ryozo walking out on the bill it was what he liked to do. Piers thought back on the many times this had happened in the past when he was younger sometimes he would end up doing dishes and working at the restaurants they ate at. Now that he was a adult and had a little money he would just pay the bill and leave it at that.

He caught the waitress when she came by and ordered a piece of cake and a refill on his drink plus the bill of course. He ate the pie and got up to leave. He paid the bill and was walking out of the restaurant when he remembered that he had to get home to catch the delivery guy he had a few packages that would be delivered today. He would have to be there for the delivery or they would have to come back another day.

Ghost
Longchester Hospital for the Insane
Annabell listened to Hiram as he told her about his long gone family. Annabell thought that it was sad, but one could hardly see it. She just stared at Hiram, or Sandra as he was posing as, and hardly blinked while he talked about how he had wanted a child of his own.

“Now, Annabell, let me ask you something: could you draw me a picture of yourself with your father and mother and brother James? I’d like to see you all together as a family.” Annabell looked kinda confused at Hiram’s request. Then she just pointed at one of the pictures. On the picture, a girl was standing over a pool of blood and was surrounded by corpses. “That’s me,” Annabell said, “and my family.” She did not look bothered one bit by it and just smiled at Hiram.

---

Vampire
Twa Corbies, Old Longchester
Ren was getting interested in the reason why Dorian had offered him work. He had successfully ended a philosophical speach before it really started. But Dorian did not seem shaken, or at least he did not seem to accept Ren’s authority.

“Please, mister Majere,” Dorian said, “I have no intention to insult you. And in return I only ask that I am not insulted. Please refer to me as ‘mister Grey’ from now on.” He paused as he sipped from his glass of wine. He drank with elegance, and did not swallow right away as if to enjoy the taste as long as he could. “What we want is your resources, your status among both your kind and those thugs. We want you to turn your back on those you serve in order to serve us. In return you will be given power over those you turned your back on. We have allies and funds, but now we need man-power and that is what we want you to provide us with.” Dorian paused again in order to finish his glass of wine. “After your work is done, we will give you the power you need to take over the organizations you belong to.” Dorian refilled his glass and drank from it. “This is our offer, mister Majere. It is time for you to either take it or counter it.”

---

Werewolf
Somewhere in the Fieldriver district
William could see how the face of the newly arrived man turned angrier as he said those last words. Although William could feel his blood boiling for a good fight, he was too close to his goal to lose his cool against these two. But the angry man did not seem to be bothered by William’s intimidations.

“I don’ think ye’ understand me,” the man said to William. “This is our terretory and ‘ere we ar’ Kings and yer a peasant. In our terretory, we ‘unt an’ ye’ stay back. Ye’ show us respect or ye’ will turn tail an’ run.” He paused slightly, took a breath and continued. “I was not askin’ fer yer lifestory, I was askin’ fer information about our prey. Flaws, tactics, or weaknesses even. Ye’ can threaten us as much as ye’ like but pick a fight with us an’ it’ll be the last mistake ye’ make.”

---

Mage
Daiki Sato’s apartment
Piers had just arrived to his mentor’s friend’s home apartment downtown, not really that far from the Jaded Dragon. Piers had been living there for some time now and was almost starting to think of it as home. Daiki Sato, his mentor’s friend and owner of the apartment, did not seem to be home. A note on the kitchen table explained his absence as he had to go out on business. Not something that happened very often but when it did it was always something important.

After a while, the doorbell finally rang and a voice called from the hallway, “Special delivery for Piers Fable.” As Piers opened the door a delivery man stood out in the hallway, holdin some packages and some papers that needed to be signed. While Piers was signing the papers, the delivery man had already reached for his weapon.

The sound of a gunshot echoed in the apartment and Piers stumbled backwards as a reflexive reaction to the revolver. The man in the hallway could hardly believe it. He had fired at close range, almost at point blank, and he had missed. Piers could feel where the bullet had grazed his cheek but had otherwise done nothing to harm him. The bullet did however shatter the vase that Daiki kept in the living room. A fake ming vase, but Daiki liked it.

Piers did not have much time to think about the vase. The delivery man had dropped the packages and was already about to fire another bullet. “You will not ruin anything!”

"Ohh, I thought you wanted to be friends since you where so bloody sweet and humble mister Grey.."
Ren thought to himself although he didn't speak it out loud, that would be childish. As the man went on Ren had to use all the will he had to keep a straight face. What the man was suggesting was simply way to outrageous. He wanted him to betray everyone who stood behind him without any guaranties or without even telling him whom he would be betraying the organization for.

Ren leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Partially to show the man that he wasn't intimidated but mostly just because he needed time to think about this all. The man was most likely asking him to betray the syndicate, not the Invictus since it had been Marcus himself that sent him here. Although it was a possibility in itself.

"So Mister Grey"

Ren said, unintentionally emphasizing overly much on the mans name, covering it up with a small smile and a nod.

"Your asking me to betray everyone who helped me get to the position i am today without even telling me who i am to do it for nor showing me anything to back up your words.."

He continued, his voice soft and fluid but with a slight edge to it. Up until now he had made a show of not being to interested to convey higher value, but now that the cards where on the table he had his piercing dark yellow gaze completely fixed upon the man.

"You must see that i need to know more about who 'you' are before i can make a call like that"

He said, emphasizing slightly on you to make it clear that he was talking about Dorians group, not Dorian as a person.

"And.. does Marcus know about this?"

“Now, Annabell, let me ask you something: could you draw me a picture of yourself with your father and mother and brother James? I’d like to see you all together as a family.”

Annabell stared blankly at Hiram, or rather the form he currently occupied, for a moment looking almost confused by his simple request. Finally she pointed at one of the pictures on the wall, depicting a young girl standing over a pool of gore and surrounded by blood-spattered corpses: “That’s me,” she replied nonchalantly, “and my family.”

The spectre’s first response was a twinge of indignant irritation, was the girl toying with him? He had squandered too much of his energies on her behalf already to put up with such childish games. But no, he reminded himself, her reaction, strange and macabre as it was, seemed serious enough. His hope had been to remind Annabell of the people waiting for her to make a recovery, to provide a glimpse into her family's dynamic and, with any luck, to serve as a the first step in replacing the wall covered with glaring monstrosities with something more likely to prove conducive to the restoration of good mental health. Clearly that was not going to happen as easily as he had thought.

“I’m not sure I understand,” Hiram began slowly, making an effort to keep a level tone, “your parents are both alive and well, as is your brother James. Why would you draw them like that?”

Struggling to believe he was still talking to the same uncertain, emotionally fragile girl as a few minutes earlier, the former psychologist reached for the obvious explanation from his medical training: she must be suffering from a multiple personality disorder, retreating behind the guise of another persona when forced to confront memories she found painful or disturbing. Another memory surfaced, awakened by the figures in the sketch she had just pointed out to him: snippets of radio bulletins over the past few weeks and a series of headlines from the local papers regarding a bizarre series of domestic murders. Could Annabell herself have been responsible in some way for her brother’s death, Hiram hypothesised, or did the drawing simply demonstrate in the most graphic possible sense that her family were dead to her? Either explanation would raise further questions before he could work his way to the heart of her problems, though perhaps it would be better to wait until another occasion to put them to her. The spectre could hardly help but be aware of the dangers of trying to push a patient too fast and had no desire to see Annabell close up to him before her disorder could be resolved.

William's fists were clenched so hard under his sleeves that his knuckles turned deadly-white. He knew he had to get the information on the "beast" in the woods, but this guy was simply getting on his nerves. Besides, he doubted Richard would actually stop in a place like this just to haunt the woods.

In one fluid motion he'd done so many times before, his trenchcoat dropped to the ground. He glared the annoying guy in the eye, and then darted towards the girl. His essence filled him and the adrenaline started to flow. He could feel the rage within him, that old familiar feeling. His shape almost instantly changed. He grew fur, and huge claws and fangs made their appearance. His Silver Knuckles grew along with him.

He was now only a few feet from the girl now. Neither of his opponents seemed to have reacted. William managed to look into the girl's eyes, and if his form had allowed him a smirk he would have given her one of those as well, before his punches came raining down towards her.

(OOC: Summary
Used 1 essence to shapechange into Gauru. Used the Boxing-ability Combination Blows to make two attacks (jab and then straight/hook/uppercut), the latter with -1 die. I also lose my defence for the round)