[IC] Meetings and Machinations

[PMikey]

Doc starts to shapeshift into a cat but, as he does so, the blood covering his body starts to be reabsorbed by his body.

"Wait," Kevin says, "Doc, look at yuirself!"

Doc shifts back fully to human form to find that all of the blood is now gone.

[Chance]

"Hey Doc, can you do anything about my shoulder? It's starting to sting a bit."

[Midnight]

"Yeah Sure" Christopher says as he walks over to Michael and places his hand over the wound.

[PMikey]

Michael unbuttons and pulls down his shirt, exposing his vicious-looking wound; the flesh more torn than cut.

Christopher places his hand on the wound and concentrates. Within seconds, tendrils of flesh extend out of Christopher's fingers and start insinuating itself into Michael's flesh surrounding the wound.

The tendrils of flesh begin interweaving themselves between themselves and Michael's flesh, knitting the torm flesh together and closing the wound.

Within minutes, the wound has healed, leaving the faintest trace of a scar. More of a blemish, really. The flesh tendrils retreat back into Christopher's fingers as he removes his hand, leaving a clean bloodless spot where it rested upon Michael's flesh.

Christopher feels a little light-headed for a moment but it quickly passes. He notes that the more he does this stunt, having practiced on various patients in the hospital, the less light-headed he feels. "I guess I'm getting used to it," he muses to himself.

"There you go," he says, "good as new."

[Chance]

Michael rolls his shoulder around, testing it. He looks at where the wound was, then at Christopher, "And I thought what I could was pretty amazing. Thanks, Doc."

[Dabo]

Dutchy goes back inside through the window and then looks outside. "Get a room, you two...this one would be nice."

[White Wolf]

Thomas looks around and sighs, "I just got out here now..." He climbs back in. Surprisingly he needs very little help. "Hmmm I wonder.... I guess I'll have to try it out sometime later."

[Chance]

Michael floats up through the window and into the private room.

He picks up his jacket and puts it on, "I'll be back in a minute"

He leaves the room and closes the door quickly and heads towards the bathroom. He takes a big wad of paper towels and runs it under the hot water then steps into a stall and locks the door.

He removes his jacket and shirt and tries to clean the blood off his body as best he can, then fushes the paper towels down the toilet, being careful not to put so much that it would clog.

Michael then puts his shirt back on, concentrates for a second and the shirt changes to a clean one. He exits the stall and checks himself in the mirror.

He leaves the bathroom and heads back to the private room.

[White Wolf]

"We should probably call the police ourselves. Once Kevin puts the bars back in place."

[PMikey]

As the incognito members of the Vanguard City Crusaders deal with the after-effects of their encounter, in a more upscale part of town a different sort of encounter is taking place.

A man in a tuxedo exits the Ella Fitzgerald Performing Arts center amongst the flashes of hundreds of flashbulbs as private security guards keep back the clamoring crowds and paparazzi. As host of the benefit gala going on inside, the man had made his prerequisite appearance, mingled with the crowd and gave a rowsing speech in support of hungry children in impoverished countries.

Was it hungry children this time? He's given so many of these speeches, they all begin to sound the same and it becomes so easy to lose track.

Getting into his waiting limousine, the man sits down and pours himself a stiff drink from the car's mini-bar. He leans back in his seat savouring that first sip when he comes to the realization that the limo is not moving.

Pressing the intercom, he says, "Frederick, is there a reason we're not moving?"

No answer.

"Frederick?"

Still no answer.

The man presses a button to lower the divider between the driver's compartment and the passenger area. The man sees the back of Frederick's head. Motionless and draped in shadow. An innate wrongness in what he sees causes an involuntary shiver to run down the man's spine.

"Frederick, what's going on?"

A voice like brimstone being dragged through the graveyard replies back, "Your fleshling, 'Frederick', is no more."

Without missing a stroke, the man in the back of the limo replies, "Who...or what...are you?"

"I am from beyond. From the realm of Shadow. I have come to reclaim that which has been stolen. But the thief has allies. Powerful allies. I find I may need allies as well."

"Why come to me?"

"Because you may find you need allies as well. When last I left them, they were talking and conspiring against their enemy. That enemy was you."

"Can you drive?"

"What is...'drive'?"

"Move over. You'd better let me drive. It seems we have much to discuss."