It is about 55/b>/span/i12C) degrees. The mist is heaviest At Panama and Blackstone/span>(Your target discovers a vampire feeding on a homeless person in an alley. The vampire claims they only take from the willing and desperate, offering money in exchange for blood – but the victim looks barely conscious. The characters must decide whether to intervene, and if so, how to handle a predator who insists they’re providing a service.)

Jeremiah wanted some fresh air, so he decided that today he would walk to and from the Inkwell for his fix. When he finished, however, he didn’t simply want to go back to his apartment, and so he decided to just get a second cup to go and wander around the city a bit, with no particular goal or destination in mind…

It’s one of those interesting sort of evenings. The sun’s still out, but somewhere along the way – from behind one of those shops and buildings that line the street there’s a faint yelp of pain. It doesn’t last long, and it sounds faraway, almost inaudible for that matter. But it was there. It could be heard by someone paying attention.

Jeremiah thinks to himself, ‘I know I’m going to regret this.’ then proceeds to look for the source of the yelp. “Hello? Is someone hurt?” he calls out.

There’s no answer given to that called out question. It’s a big city. A suit-wearing passerby looks at Jeremiah with a curious expression, eyebrows lifting up in judgment but otherwise says nothing else in reply.

Jeremiah heads for where he thinks he heard the sound, moving quietly with his ears open in case it happens again. He gives a quick pat of his pockets, to make sure his ‘Don’t leave home without them’ items are all there. Satisfied, he calls out again. “Is someone hurt?”

Still no reply. But there’s some movement in the alley now. Fortunately, the sun’s still out, lighting up the alley. A few of the buildings block most of the light, but there’s a sliver that creeps through. Making it a less than fully creepy alley. Just a tiny bit of a creepy alley, perhaps. There’s a robed figured hunched on the ground in the alley, and what appears to be.. a body? It might be hard to make out, depending on one’s eyesight. That robed figure is huddled close to the body on the ground, like they’re.. kissing?

Jeremiah takes the LED flashlight out of his pocket and turns it on, shining it on the robed figure. “Hey! What’s going on here? What are you doing?” He continues to walk towards them, stopping about fifteen feet away.

That robed figure suddenly looks up, and turns around – glaring directly at Jeremiah. “Get that fucking light out of my face,” it calls, almost hissing the words. “This does not concern you. I am merely..” there’s a tilt of his head, and the figure grins – wide. Revealing sharp fangs in it’s mouth. “Providing a simple service. Now,” it lifts a hand, and waves it at Jeremiah. “Shoo.”

Down the street the audible sound of car stops, and parks. A door closes and someone hops out, on the phone from the sounds of it. “Coffee? Yeah, anywhere in particular?” A beat as there’s a reply from the other end. “Yeah, Inkwell? And some food from there? Alright. Can do, babe. See you in a bit.” Preston hangs up the phone and begins to stroll down the street – past the alley where Jeremiah is.

“Not going to happen. What ‘service’ are you providing to anyone other than yourself?” Jeremiah asks. “Leave that person be.”

Now Preston just happens to hear this from Jeremiah, as he’s strolling by, stopping by the end of the alley way in curiousity, though, doesn’t actively say anything at the moment. Just lingering at the edge of the alley, watching.

“Shoo. I said.” The figure demands, waving him away once more. “I am providing a valuable service.” Reaching a hand out it reaches into his pocket and pulls out a large clip of bills. “You see, I am hungry. And he is poor. So, I am providing money in exchange for sating my hunger.”

“Not good enough. Get back, now! I’m not going to say it again! If this was some sort of arrangement, you should find a better place to do it than a random alley.” Jeremiah reaches into his other pocket and pulls out his backup pistol. “Not going to ask again. This might not kill you, but it’ll draw attention, if nothing else.”

Drawing a gun has Preston’s attention and now he’s casually strolling towards Jeremiah. “Friendly,” he tells him – in case his back is turned to him, coming up and standing beside Jeremiah. “What’s going on? Drawing a gun is usually a sign of trouble.” Shifting his gaze, he looks towards the figure, then back to Jeremiah.

Now there’s two people against one, and the hooded figure growls angrily. “I told you, this is not your business. I am paying him for his services. It is like…” a beat, “A blood donation.”

“Fine. But I only have your word for that, and you’re in the middle of an alley. The others I know like you… they make arrangements in advance and do it in safe, quiet places. This looks like you just jumped this person to feed, and that’s not okay.” Jeremiah says, giving Preston a nod. “Caught the vamp feeding on this person. He says it’s a financial arrangement.”

“A financial arrangement?” Preston wonders, lifting his eyebrows up – staring into the alley. “Man looks fucking dead.” Nodding towards the almost-corpse that’s laying there in the alley. “From what I know you’re not supposed to take that much blood, especially during a blood donation. I think they’ve got limits on that type of shit.” Glancing back to Jeremiah, like he might be an expert on blood donations.

There’s another growl from the robed figure, starting to sort of back away. Trying to retreat now.

“That’s what I’ve always heard, too.” Jeremiah says with a nod, and raises the pistol. “Stop there.” He glances at Preston. “Can you call 911?”

“Don’t know if you’re supposed to call the cops for this type of stuff,” Preston admits to Jeremiah. “But.. I’ll call someone.” There’s a glance towards the robed figure. “Maybe the Order? I’m sure they’d love to talk to you about what you’re doing.” So, Preston steps off for a moment, to go make a call, leaving Jeremiah and the figure to figure it out.

That robed figure does stop when he’s told, letting out a low growl of annoyance.

Jeremiah keeps the gun trained on the robed figure. “You move, I shoot. Like I said, might not kill you, but it’ll hurt and draw attention, which I’m sure you don’t want.”

“Look,” the robed figure says, staring at the gun, and at Jeremiah. “Why don’t you just let me go?” Extending his hand full of money towards him. “I’ll give you the rest of this, and,” he nods towards the soon-to-be corpse on the ground there. “You can probably still save him. If you let me go.”

Jeremiah shakes his head. “So you can do this to someone else, another time? No fucking way.”

Eventually Preston steps back beside Jeremiah, “Right, ambulance coming, and, some Order people are on the way.” He informs Jeremiah. “They’ll more than likely deal with it once they’re here.” There’s a rocking back on his heels, snorting a laugh towards the robed figure. “He’s going a point you know, can’t just go around drinking ’em dry. Think that’s a big no-no.”

“I do not see the problem. I pay them. They know what they are getting into.” Another growl from the figure, angry. “Just let me go. It does not concern you.”

Jeremiah nods. “It does. It concerns us because you went too far, and you did it in the open, alleyway or not. We all know there are vampires, and ‘wolves, and people who can shoot lighting out of their fingers… but we also all agree to keep it quiet, keep it hidden. You broke that agreement, and you don’t get to walk away from it.” he says, angrily. The pistol is still aimed and is not wavering.

Soon the sirens of an ambulance can be heard, alongside some other vehicles making their way onto the scene. It’s the backup that was called, coming to.. well, be the backup. Preston slinks back, flagging vehicles down while Jeremiah continues to keep the suspect in check.

“The one fucking time…” the robed figure murmurs under his breath, but, it would seem ultimately, has no real response. It does not seem like it’s planning on getting in a fight here.

Jeremiah nods. “The one fucking time. Because there are supposed to be zero fucking times. And you should know that. Or whoever turned you should have, and they should have told you.”

“Yeah.. well,” the robed figure replies, glancing up at Jeremiah. The rest of the backup as arrived, beginning to really flood into the scene. “Good work, Sir,” one person mentions to Jeremiah, giving him a quick nod. “Let us take it from here. We’ll have a talk with him, and see about getting the other medical attention.”

Jeremiah nods. “Thank you.” He pockets the pistol and turns off the flashlight before putting it away, too. He looks over at Preston. “And thanks to you, too.”

“You did most of it,” Preston mentions to Jeremiah, “From the looks of it.” Rubbing idly at his face, “Name’s Preston, by the way.”

“Jeremiah Deacon, nice to meet you. You’re… Navessa’s boyfriend, right? Or am I mistaken?” Jeremiah asks.

Preston nods at Jeremiah. “Yup. You know Navs?”

“We’ve met, yeah. We’re not close friends, but she’s nice, and I’ve been around her in social situations.” Jeremiah says with a smile.

There’s a smile from Preston at Jeremiah. “Makes sense.” Checking his watch briefly. “Hate to introduce myself and run, but, I gotta get going.” Most of the scene now has been dealt with, paramedics rushing the poor man to the hospital, Orderites taking care of the vampire. There isn’t any real reason to stick around. “Maybe I’ll run into you some time. Nice to meet you. And good work here.”

Jeremiah nods. “Thanks. Take it easy, yeah?” He offers the other man a wave.

Jeremiah says “Thanks! “