Oh, one more thing...

Kyle stood outside the red patten leather door of the new exotic dance club Babylon. It would be fair to describe his disposition as warm and fuzzy - but then strip joints always did that to him. He was there, ironically, to do a job - a job he was more than happy to do.

The sun was setting behind him as he nodded to the doorman who gave him a curt nod. Kyle was expected, thank god, otherwise he was pretty sure the doorman would break him in two just for breathing his air. The door was held open for him and he scooted past the doorman with a smug smile. The door closed behind him, shutting out the last of the day and enclosing him in the dark, pulsating heat of the club.

Alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol. With a deep breath, Kyle closed his eyes and mentally tried to taste the alcohol lingering in the air. Surprisingly enough, the bar was not filled with smoke, more than likely adhering to the city no smoking policy in all businesses. He was thankful that he would not smell like an ashtray when he departed.

Kyle stepped down into the center pit and weaved in between the tables filled with business men and women. Beautiful women strolled around the club, offering up dances and company. With a smile, Kyle exited the pit on the other side and walked into the back of the club known as Dante's Inferno or some such. There was some heaven and hell theme that Kyle could care less about, but his suspicions that the back end would be even more dirtier than the front end were correct.

Standing along the outer rim of the elevated dance platform, a mixture of latex and leather were being put to good use by two very bodacious women. So engrossed in the performance that he did not notice Mr. Do's assistant standing behind him until she tapped on his shoulder.

Her name was Miss Rockefeller. No relations her bio had mentioned. The paper had done an extensive inquiry into the proprietor of Babylon and his staff and not surprisingly, Mr. Do seemed to be rather elusive. Miss Rockefeller was the club's point of contact and standing at six feet tall, most of that legs, Kyle was happy Mr. Do was detained.

'Miss Rockefeller?' Please, god, Kyle thought.

Miss Rockefeller, with her tight dark brown bun and Armani suit gave Kyle Evans a quick and proper smile. With a wave of her hand, she directed Mr. Evans away from Dante's early evening performance and towards a door with no door handle. A small glass panel lit up with her presence and she put her right hand flat on the glass. The cold glass grew warm and with several whirls and clicks, the door opened about two inches.

Miss Rockefeller pushed the door and held it open for Evans.

'This way to the administrative part of Babylon. I find it easier to talk without all the distractions.' She of course meant Kyle being distracted and implied so with a slight roll of her eye and glance down the long hallway.

She was saying something.

'Huh what?' Rubbernecking as long as he could before he passed through the door, Kyle gave a sad sigh but perked up again at the sight of Miss Rockefeller.

'I just have a few questions about the murder that took place the other night. Any leads, any questions, any suspicious behavior? Anyone abruptly quit? Are you single?'

Miss Rockefeller looked over her shoulder as she led the way down the hallway to her office and gave him an annoyed look.

'I'm just joking, I have a girlfriend and she's kinda mean.' Kyle batted his eyelashes and smiled.

Time passed...at least Kyle was acutely aware of time passing as the Babylon Manager droned on about the night of the murder. He had taken out his pen and started to play with the cap - click on, click off.

On.

Off.

Drone.

Sigh.

Look at boobs.

On.

Off.

Boobs.

The manager clearing her throat.

Kyle's eyes snapped up. He gave her a slight shrug that he was positive conveyed the reason for his distraction. Her breasts were spectacular and if God didn't want men to stare, he wouldn't have put them so high or made them so god damn gorgeous.

It was God's will.

Kyle clicked his pen closed and stood up, offering his hand to the manager. She seemed perplexed and then annoyed as she took his hand. Kyle gave her a hearty salute, considered having fish for dinner, (mahi mahi - that was just fun to say) and then turned towards the door of her office.

'Oh...one more thing.'

Kyle was aware of more time passing as he hurried down the hallway after the manager had answered his last question. Granted it was without words and with a stapler being chucked him, but he had to ask when her show was up next so he could see if her gams matched the rack.

Living on the edge of a sexual harassment suit was the life for Kyle Evans.

Strolling back out towards Dante's, Kyle stood once again watching the new show that was performing on the elevated platform. The outfits were...unique. Kyle made a mental note to ask a waitress if they sell those outfits and snorted at Nova's inevitable response when he presented it to her.

Strippers were useful friends to have. They saw quite a bit, worked convenient hours, and you generally knew where you stood. In his experience they generally didn't mind sitting down and chatting with a nice polite gentleman who treated them with respect, and Palmer was quite capable of being one of those men. It never hurt, in any case, to socialize and make a few friends, though this impulse worried him on some level, much like his unrequited interest in Claire. He needed to remember that eventually he would be going home, back to Charleston, and shouldn't be making these kinds of ties. The longer he stayed here the more difficult that became, though; who knew how long he would need to be in Nachton, what with everything going on with Thaddeus and getting wrapped up in Clan politics...and hell, he hadn't even -started- his own investigation, his original purpose in coming to this town.

At any rate, 'making friends' wasn't the real reason he was here, though it made for a decent excuse. Thaddeus's case was starting to get to him, he supposed; the past few days in particular he'd felt the strain and tonight he felt the need for a little good old fashioned escapism. Being of a more extroverted persuasion, this meant being around other people, and tonight he wanted something uncomplicated and entertaining. Sure, many things fit that criteria, but Babylon was close by and he'd been curious, so here he was.

In heaven.

Which, come to think of it, was just exactly how he'd pictured it.

He'd chatted up a waitress named Faith (he doubted that was her real name but it made for a nice fit in Heaven and, again, knowing where one stood was a good thing) who would be performing in Hell later on. He'd asked her to surprise him on his drink, and she'd brought him a Manhattan. She was apparently a cigar expert, so they'd talked about that for a bit until the club filled up too much and she had to go.

The show was a good one, with talented dancers and a good upbeat crowd. There was subtle sense of humor mixed in with the sensuality of the club that he liked; it had a nice spark of intelligence. Deciding to check out the other side and perhaps get close enough to the stage to give Faith a hello, he got up and made his way across, feeling his stress ebbing away into the crowd. Noticing a man standing and watching the show, he grinned and made a comment as he walked by.

“You can sit down, you know – most of them don’t bite.”

A slow grin spread across Kyle's face as the show progressed. Occasionally his eyes would widen and at one point he began to clap happily. With a wistful sigh, Kyle tried to recall having ever been in such an elaborately themed strip club. He encountered a bit of drunken haze in his recollection so he decided to clap happily some more and just enjoy the show.

“You can sit down, you know – most of them don’t bite.”

The sudden disembodied voice startled him out his contemplations and he turned toward it. A face he did not recognize - dark skinned, tall and friendly. Not one to be rude...wait, yes he was. Snorting to himself, Kyle gave the dark skinned fellow a wink and laughed, 'They don't? Where's the fun in that?'

Turning towards the show again, Kyle reached out with his hand and offered it to the stranger. Without looking at him, but looking at the pink latex hottie doing something downright dirty to the other purple latex sex kitten, Kyle introduced himself.

'Kyle Evans. Nice to meet you.'

Palmer chuckled in response to the man’s adventurous take on matters, thinking that if he liked being bitten so much there were quite a few people he could introduce him to. He took the offered hand, though by this point Kyle had already turned his attention back to the

“Good to meet you, Kyle Evans. Palmer Calhoun.” A pause, and then he continued. “And I would –swear- I’ve heard that name before.”

This could get awkward if it turned out Kyle was some sort of public official; Palmer was beginning to worry that was the case, actually, and started looking around for goons. Of course, equally embarrassing would be finding out Kyle was incredibly famous and he’d missed the next big thing.

On the stage the ladies were engaging in a bit of play fighting, and he grinned a little, thinking they were certainly…spirited.

Kyle gave Palmer Calhoun a sly side smile.

'I am notoriously annoying and a reporter for the Nachton Times. I specialize in the freakishly lame and things that go bite in the night.' He paused for a moment. 'To put to bluntly, I suppose.'

A scantily clad waitress approached them just then. Kyle pointed towards the beauty happily and ordered. 'Vanilla Coke.' Then he held his index and thumb apart about a half inch and added, 'Ice.' Bringing his hand up to his mouth, he playfully admonished the service industry and their drink portions.

'They'll screw you with the ice. Fiends!' Kyle pointed to the waitress and raised his eyebrows at Palmer, silently offering a drink.

He gave a healthy chuckle at Kyle's job description, remembering now where he had heard that name. The reporter was a figure of some controversy among the maids at the Grand Piazza, attracting both fans and (more often) dissenters. Palmer decided not to mention this, though, as it might not be considered complimentary, but he did wonder what people would say if he announced that he had met the local celebrity in a strip club. Not that he ever would, of course – he was of the 'nothing dirty about a little entertainment' school of thought, but he understood some people (vultures, puritans) would love to bring someone down for visiting a 'den of iniquity'.

Looking up at the stage, though, he was forced to amend his thoughts slightly. That -was- a little dirty...though at least the two women had apparently made up and were getting along quite well now.

“Ah, a man of the press, excellent! And it would appear you've come to the right place, for the latter at least. You know you're in a good line of work when you can come here and call it research.”

He beamed a grin to show he meant that in the nicest of ways, then turned to the waitress, whose name, according to the tag, was Bunny. A bunny in Hell – for some reason that struck Palmer as rather amusing. Kyle gave the 'go ahead and order' gesture and he fixed his grin on the young lady, wondering if she was, indeed, the fiend Evans had accused her of being.

One could hope.

He ordered another Manhattan and watched her walk away before turning his attention back to the stage.

“Ah, I think you're right, Kyle Evans. She looks pretty fiendish to me.”

Ok so looking like you worked here wasn't the wisest idea, Celeste had come to realize. In the course of the couple of minutes it had taken the vampire to walk from the front door to reach the back and enter Hell that had become apparent. In that time she'd had to break at least three hands and dislocate a few wrists from men far too eager to squeeze and fondle her pale ass under her quite short skirt.

But damnit to hell if she wasn't going to look good when she went out. And the PVC corset she wore with the offense initiating, matching black PVC skaters skirt, shiny PVC black and blue striped thigh highs and knee high buckled and spiked boots certainly did. Especially with her three quarter length PVC coat worn open on top. Her favorite accessory was the full neck covering PVC choker she had made with a delicate silver charm that dangled over her corset enhanced clevage. Very few people would ever understand what the stylized eye with a star meant, but any clanmate would recognize the Night's symbol. Celeste proudly advertised her affiliation, even if she wasn't what most would ever consider Anantya.

Her heavily kholed eyes surveyed the crowd until she spied a open table near a couple chatty men. 'I swear to Dieu if one of them grabs my ass I am going to chomp down right here, public or not,' the vampire thought sourly. Plopping down in a chair she kicked her feet up and looked for a waitress.

'God I hope so.' Kyle muttered as he smiled up at the stage.

He probably looked like an ass standing so close to the stage, staring up at it like an adoring fan, so he turned to look for an open table. Spying one he nodded towards it just as a woman sat down at it, propping her feet up on the table. Feeling ever so sociable, Kyle walked over and introduced himself.

'Hi there, mind if me and my friend share your table? The view is spectacular.' He gave her his best smile and hoped she didn't stab his eyes out with a fork.

Yes, there were few things that made better distractions than naughty girls in delicious latex outfits taking turns punishing one another. At least that's what Celeste thought. Even needing a drink was a secondary thought at the moment. Tilting her head slightly for a better angle she grinned. And then a voice cut right into her rather lascivious thoughts. Annoyance surged and she turned her cold blue eyes to...a rather delicious looking man. Hmm. This could be interesting, she thought.

Swinging one leg over, offering up a large flash of thigh, the vampire toed out a chair while giving the stranger a slow head to toe once over. Yes, very dishy. It looked like she could find a little entertainment and maybe even some after show dinner. Nice.

Please.. be my guest.

Apparently Kyle Evans was finally thinking in the direction of sitting down; he supposed ordering a drink meant you were committed. Grinning, he followed the reporter over to what had been an available table moments ago but was now occupied by a petite raven haired woman dressed in a gothpunk mix. Kyle didn't seem to have a problem with sharing; in fact, he wondered just what his new acquaintance meant by 'the view' - the stage or the person in front of him.

Coming around to the stranger's other side, Palmer slid out his own chair and sat down with a genial 'thank you, it is -so- nice to find good seats', then gave Kyle a smirking grin. Looked like the reporter had found himself a live one with this lady - she seemed to like what she saw and wasn't shy about showing it. Still amused, he turned to the dark haired woman and beamed a smile, offering his hand to shake.

"Palmer Calhoun; pleased to make your acquaintance. "

Celeste sat up straight and twisted to get a good look at the dish's buddy. Not bad either, maybe she could get a two course meal out of the evening's fun. Taking his outstretched hand in hers, she gave it a firm shake. Giving him the same come hither kind of grin she'd just bestowed on tall dark and delicious, the vampire introduced herself. Celeste De'Espionne, and the pleasure's all mine.

Glancing around with a slightly annoyed look, she asked her tablemates, So, who do you have to kill around here to order a damn drink?

Kyle gave a nervous laugh and sat down on the opposite side of the little vixen. He tugged a little at his tie and waved a waitress over for their new companion. Meeting two new people at once - wow, Mom would be proud, Kyle thought to himself.

He sat for a few moments, continuing his full on oggle of the show in front of them before he spoke up again.

'Were you both here for the opening night? I heard it was an interesting evening.' He hoped to at least get some first hand information from some of the people who were there that night. The best person to ask was probably the snooty District Attorney assistant, Yoo-something. Before he did that, he'd want a first hand account of whatever anyone could tell him.

Palmer gave a broad smile at Celeste's introduction, thinking she seemed like a gamey lass, and sounded southern besides.

"The tall fellow here is Kyle Evans." He beamed. "So now we all know each other."

To the reporter's question, he had only a slight shrug and a disappointed answer. "I'm afraid I missed it," he said with an open handed gesture, as though to say 'what can you do?'. "Must have been quite a show." Babylon seemed to pull fairly good business, though that was fairly unsurprising given their target audience and location.

Giving a little wave to Faith as she stomped out on stage in boots that looked slightly dangerous, he moved back a little to let the waitress set down his drink. The dancer he'd met earlier had changed out of her heavenly garb into something positively devilish, and it was hard to decide which look appealed to Palmer more. Of course, she hadn't been swinging around a pole with surprising athleticism when she was an angel, so that pushed things slightly in the devilish look's favor.

Celeste just sighed and shook her head in response to Kyle's inquiry. Nope, sorry. I just got to town a couple days ago. It's my first time here.. Giving them both a wicked grin, she quirked her pierced eyebrow and asked, Think they'll be gentle with me? Then again, she mused with a smile as she watched the girl climbing on stage, maybe I don't want them to. And damn I love those boots.

Turning to the waitress, the vampire leaned back to admire her rear view as she set down the guys' drinks. Pulling her business Amex from her bust, she set the platinum card on the girl's tray. Red wine, something cold and rich. Sliding a hand up to squeeze the back of her thigh, Celeste added with a grin. And a nice big tip for you too, cheri.

She wouldn't feel guilty charging up the tab. After all this trip to Nachton was family business and no way was she paying for anything while it was, was her logic. Her attention was divided between a twisting undulating dancer and the two people sharing her table. So Kyle.. Palmer.. you two from around here? Neither one of them really sounded like they did, but you never knew.

Kyle watched Celeste handle the waitress with that vampy bisexuality that seemed to run rampant in Nachton. Not that he ever objected, he just never quite understood it. Never part of the metro crowd, Kyle Evans flew his hetero flag high and proud.

Taking a deep pull of his drink, he frowned at the amount of ice and his shoulders slumped. 'See. Fiends.' Shaking his head, he leaned back in his chair and pulled his right leg up, grabbing the ankle and resting it on his other thigh.

'Nope, not from here but a transplant. Originally from Vegas but in Nachton about 11 years or so.' Kyle watched the scantily clad women walk by. 'I really do like it here, despite recent events. I'm a reporter at the Nachton Times and my girlfriend is disgustingly rough and sexy.' Grinning, he took another drink of his Coke and then posed a question to his table mates.

'Speaking of which, is it me or are all the women in Nachton bi-curious? Not that there's anything wrong with that, mind you.'

Celeste leaned back a little in her chair, presumably to watch the waitress go (a pleasant sight in and of itself), but the angle brought attention to her (considerable) curves, and to the necklace resting comfortably on top of them. Both of his eyebrows went up at that before a grin spread over his features.

She was a nightsman! Palmer decided this was a delightful development and wondered if he should find a way to tell her they were kin. That would probably be the gentlemanly thing to do.

After Kyle had explained his situation, Palmer started in on his.

“A rough sexy girlfriend can made all the difference,” he said with a wise nod that turned to a smirk before turning to Celeste. “I myself hail from Charleston, South Carolina, just here for a…” He faltered and waved a hand to buy time, realizing he was right back to thinking about how long he was staying in Nachton. “…while,” he finished with a grin. “longer than expected, as a matter of fact; perhaps this city will draw me in after all.”

He threw back his head and laughed heartily at Kyle's question, wildly amused, then held his glass high in the air.

"No, no they’re just fiends!" he cried cheerfully "They're all -fiends-!" Raising his glass to dangerously high levels, he concluded, with great merriment. "To fiends, and rough sexy girlfriends!"

Laughing at the men and their drinks, Celeste shook her head and smirked. That's why I like ordering wine.. no ice.

Celeste smiled at Kyle as he spoke, but sighed in her head. A man that mentions his girlfriend when a pretty woman is coming on to his is either very much not interested or very dense. Either way it looked like he wouldn't be tempted to a dark corner or a private room for a little 'necking.' What a pity, he was quite good looking. That left only Palmer on the menu for the moment. Still.. certainly not a bad option, she thought.

Laughing at the rather boisterous toast, Cel simply smiled. With no drink to toast with she mearly nodded to them both. Well I am afraid I can't answer your question really Kyle.. I'm from New Orleans, her accent drawled it out in the unique way only locals seemed to pronounce it, so I can only speak for women there. Which would be because it's so damn fun, and drives most men wild. And anyway, she added with an amused grin, who said I was bi-curious..? She stressed the last word for emphasis and gave him a wink.

A glass of wine appeared and Celeste smiled over into the waitress' nicely displayed breasts as she leaned to set it down. Taking her card back and sliding it away in her own clevage, the vampire just grinned in admiration until the woman was almost out of sight. Turning her icy eyes to Palmer, she lifted her glass and swirled it, giving him a very lascivious grin. So tell me Palmer... just what would draw you in? To the city, I mean.. she added after a pause. Yes, Celeste was definately looking forward to something warm and fresh to eat. Anything else on top of that would be pure laigniappe.

Palmer chuckled a little and sipped his drink, wondering if he should take a serious stab at answering Celeste's question or just remain ambiguous.

"Ah, now you've got me thinking when I was trying to avoid that,"Â? he said with a grin and a shake of his finger in her direction, taking the fact that he had come full circle tonight with his usual good humor. It seemed his attempts to get his mind off of where he was were to no avail, but that was the way it went sometimes. "But to answer your question, I'm here as long as I'm needed. When I can do more good at home than I can here, I'll go home. Until then, I'll stick around."Â?

He concluded with a shrug, but added on an afterthought after a pause to enjoy his drink and the show. "Of course, while I'm here...who knows what will happen?"Â?

Flashing a smile, he finished off his drink and leaned back a little in his chair, tilting his head up to better see the stage.

"But what about you?"Â? he drawled, watching Celeste out of the corner of his eye and smirking in a slightly cocky sort of way. "Here for pleasure or that other thing?"Â?

Taking a small sip of her wine, Celeste leaned back in her chair and nodded as Palmer spoke. It may have appeared she wasn't listening, but she was. Watching him carefully out of the corner of her eye as the bulk of her vision was filled with gyrating flesh the vampire paid attention to his body language as he spoke. There was something engaging about the Southerner and despite her typicaly sour mood he didn't grate on her nerves like most humans. Of course that could be attributed to the atmosphere or the scenery.

Pursing her lips thoughtfully at his question, the Anantya mulled over her answer a moment before replying. Family business mostly, but there's always some pleasure involved, ya know? Yes, there was. Celeste was going to enjoy beating her cousin down and back in to line. The thought brought a pleased smile to her lips.

Family business, hmm? Palmer wondered if that family by birth or by blood. No way to ask with the reporter here, but he thought he really should indicate that he -was-, in a sense, family too.

"Most definitely - I'm here on family business myself, though that's gotten lost in the shuffle."Â? He smiled and leaned in, looking directly at her as he went on. "Hunting down relatives just isn't as exciting as breaking in a new city."Â?

Hopefully that was clear enough - it was probably rude of him to not mention he was Anantya before, but to be fair it hadn't exactly come up until now. He gave a final glance at her necklace to get his point across (and took a generous look at her cleavage as well - it could hardly be avoided, after all) before turning his attention back to the stage, where Faith was waving goodbye after a rousing finale to 'Personal Jesus'. Yes, he'd certainly like to 'reach out and touch Faith' but that was the sort of thing that could get you kicked in the face by a mean pair of boots.

Turning to Kyle in hopes of bringing him into the conversation, he asked, amiably:

"Are you doing a story on Babylon?"Â?

Kyle wasn't stupid, a little annoying but definitely a smart cookie. Palmer was trying to tell the wildcat something. With a mental shrug he first wondered if maybe he hadn't encountered more of Nova's friends and almost wanted to shout out, "don't eat me, I'm not on the market" but then just turned back to the stage and smiled happily at the gyrating bodies. His suspicions were probably wrong, but you never could tell.

Kyle looked back at Palmer when he asked about Babylon. 'Well I'd like to say I'm just here for the theatrics, which mostly I am, but alas yes - I'm doing a story. My vampire stories don't seem as popular as of late.' Which is ironic, he thought. 'The murder here on the opening night seemed perfectly timed, no disrespect to the young lady who died, of course. I guess you could say, good stories are like little orphans and I'm just trying to find this one a home.'

He gave them a big grin and took a sip of his drink hoping his reference to orphans would maybe cause a reaction. Nova was Tacharan and after googling the term, because the good lord smacked him with street smarts not book smarts, he hoped one of them would catch the term and maybe he too could be cryptic. Kyle sighed happily and looked back at the stage.

Her clear blue eyes turned and studied Palmer as he spoke. His meaningful glance down at her Nightsman symbol wasn't lost and Celeste sighed internally as she realized he was either kindred or affiliated with the Clan somehow. Scratch one hot Southern meal. Damnit. She nodded slightly, but wasn't sure if he saw it before turning to the stage.

Well that did still leave the apparently taken but very attractive Mr. Evans. Her eyebrows shot up at the mention of vampire stories. They were commonplace in a city like New Orleans that fed tourists line after line to reel them in but it hadn't seemed like Nachton was pandering to those types. Another insider, or a conspiracy theorist? Cel's brow furrowed slightly and she glanced at Palmer to see if he reacted like this was news to him or not.

The word orphan had her icy eyes swiveling back to study Kyle's grinning profile. Had she managed to invite not one but two kindred to her table? And what the hell would an Anantya be doing associating with Orphan scum anyways?

Laughing softly, she studied Mr. Evans over the rim of her glass as she asked in a teasing tone, Really now Kyle, vampires? You put stock in all of those bump in the night stories? How... curious. We have so much of that in N'awlins.. I didn't think other people believed in such things. Taking a sip she continued. And orphans too.. your tastes do run to the most... interesting.. things.

“A murder? That’s terrible, one of the dancers?” he shook his head. “A shame – what have they ever done to anyone?” That they didn’t ask for, he left unsaid. “Maybe you’ll uncover the truth – do the police know anything?”

Palmer thought it was somewhat ironic to be discussing the care and treatment of orphans while sitting in a strip club – real humanitarians, the lot of them. He hadn’t missed the potential reference to Tacharan, stacked neatly on top of a mention of vampires, but now he wondered if there were other clues he’d missed that would further explain just who this reporter was. Deciding to follow Celeste’s lead for now, he smiled easily after her amused comments and threw in his own two cents.

“Oh, but it’s all in good fun! I love a good urban legend – who cares if it’s true or not?” Grinning, he finished off the last of his drink and rested the empty glass on the table. A story being true seemed pretty irrelavant to the press most of the time so he hoped Kyle wouldn't take offense. “And that kidney thing is true, it happened to my friend back home.” Nodding seriously, he leaned his elbows on the table and looked over at Kyle sideways. “But damn, this is quite a leap, going from vampires to murder stories. Seriously, good luck with that.”

Kyle shrugged at Palmer's question about the police. 'My opinion of the police isn't too favorable. If they know anything, they're hiding it. I haven't been able to come up with much either - it looks almost random.' Just then Kyle's watch began to beep. He turned the alarm off and reached into one of his jacket pockets.

'And don't knock urban legends, there's always a little truth in those stories you know.' With a smile Kyle produced his little bottle of pills and uncapped it. Popping a little yellow pill into his mouth, he used the rest of his soda to wash it down. He tucked the bottle back into his inside jacket pocket and did not offer up an explanation as to what it was for.

Kyle watched Palmer finish off his drink and he felt his lips twitch with jealousy. Shrugging in his chair he considered Palmer's insight into his stories.

'You seem like a reasonable man, Palmer. Do YOU believe in vampires?' Then he looked at the little vixen across the table from him. 'And do you, miss? Think there are immortal beings out there feeding off the general populace and living in a shroud of mystery?'

Kyle ached for a drink suddenly, but he tried to ignore the urge and looked back at the stage. More girls were gathering for another show. Then he gave his fellow patrons a half grin and raised his eyebrows in question, waiting to hear their answers.

Leaned back in her chair, arms crossed and idly twirling her wineglass in between her fingers, Celeste just grinned at Kyle. He was an interesting one. As a matter of fact, oui I do believe there is something out there feeding off the "general populace" and living in mystery. Pausing for a moment, she leaned in slightly, as if to share a great secret. It's called the Catholic Church and they hide in the Vatican.. sucking the free thought from everyone's souls.

Laughing loudly at her own joke for a moment, the Anantya smiled sweetly and sighed. Other than that.. Of course I believe in vampires. Every good New Orleanian does. They make the city lots of money didn't you know? Wiggling her eyebrows at Kyle, she wondered just what he would give away about himself.

So tell me Mr Evans.. just what do you believe in? Are you one of those undead bloodsuckers, or are you just the good samaritan in the know trying to save the rest of us? Or... is it all about the headlines?

Palmer nodded with a trace of grimness at Kyle's mistrust of police officers - he could understand not caring for cops. It was hard to have much respect for the city's finest when there were so many power tripping assholes walking the streets.

When the reporter broke out a bottle of pills Palmer thought it his duty as a gentleman to keep polite conversation going so as not to draw undue attention to Kyle. He also felt a little guilty for the first thought that came into his head, though thinking of HIV didn't hold the same solemn fear and pitying revulsion for him that it would for a human. Really, it could be anything and the pills were none of his business.

Besides, Evans seemed like the type to share if he were popping -good- meds.

"Oh sure, I wouldn't knock any of those stories...otherwise the Ghost of the Swamp Fox might come after me!"Â? Making a gesture of mock fright that faded to a grin, he went on "honestly I think I know more about history from legends than I ever did in school..."Â? ...yeah, that was true enough - he hadn't been permitted to go to school. What a country he lived in. "...and I think they have more of a personal touch."Â?

Chuckling at the idea of being a reasonable man, he deferred to the lady to answer first, mostly because he was waiting to see what might come out of her mouth next. She struck him as the type to enjoy being a little outrageous and he generally liked that sort of company. He threw back his head and laughed merrily at Celeste's answer, finding he was quite enjoying himself this evening in spite of the dark twists and turns to their conversation. "My, we've touched on politics -and- religion in a single discussion; isn't there a rule about that?"Â?

Celeste went on in an ambiguous sort of way, seeming to take the safe route. Palmer thought it best to do the same, though now he was a little less worried that he had missed some cue or other - the nightsman seemed to still be feeling Kyle out.

"Oh, I believe in all kinds of things..."Â? he nodded a little toward the stage. "Angels, Demons, an honest woman..."Â? with a slightly apologetic and fully charming smile toward Celeste, he added: "...but it makes it a lot easier to believe if you can catch a glimpse of them."Â?

Leaning forward with his elbows on the table, he went on. "But then, I would imagine as a reporter you've actually gotten to see quite a lot of things that the rest of us just read about the next day."Â?

Celeste's questions segued neatly into his own thoughts and he let her go ahead, thinking she would be better at this little game of 'what's the reporter' than he was. Palmer was liable to get distracted and forget what they had started off talking about, taking the conversation down tangents that interested him and walking away without much 'useful' information.

'First thing I learned in journalism - don't believe anything you read, if you didn't see it, it didn't happen. Although seeing isn't as definitive as you think. Bottom line, for me anyway, I believe in the mighty dollar and anyone who says they don't is a liar.'

Kyle considered Celeste's question further and added, 'And I'm not trying to save anyone. Shit I have a hard enough time saving myself. I suppose that makes my point of view rather dark but,' he shrugged and let his voice trail off, 'finding the truth doesn't give you that omnipotent flash of insight. The truth pales in comparison.'

He heard the bitterness in his voice and Kyle found himself closing off to the two new strangers. The past year had been full of surprises, most of which he'd give anything to give back. Life seemed so much easier in a haze of alcoholic depression and he distinctly recalled why he crawled into a bottle 15 or so years ago and stayed there. The truth was painful, hateful and tiring. Looking back at his two table companions, there was no way he could tell they were vampires, but his gut instinct told him to just assume it. Although his instinct was about as reliable as his wicked streak of luck.

Kyle watched the women on stage, but he felt his eyes blur past them and narrowed in on a solitary man standing at the bar on the opposite side of the stage. This man was looking at Celeste. He flicked his eyes back at the female and then back at the man and he chuckled softly. Vampire or not, Celeste didn't seem like the woman with whom to fuck, biblical or otherwise. Kyle's eyes moved behind Celeste at a waitress who was helping another table. Flicking his eyes back, pretending to look at the stage, he watched the man's head turn as the waitress walked away.

Ahhh, Kyle thought and then dismissed the man entirely.

Her expression stayed neutral as she watched Kyle, but Celeste's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. There was something in his tone, in the bitterness that seemed to seep out of him as he spoke. Pain, anger, bitterness. Those were emotions the brunette knew oh so very well. She was becoming more convinced this was no vampire. Perhaps a reluctant familiar? Oh, he'd mentioned a violent girlfriend. Maybe that was it.

The truth pales in comparison.. Sounds like you had yourself a nasty run in with a few facts, Mr Evans. Leaning a little closer she laid her hand just next to his, almost touching him but leaving that small sense of space. It was purely for his benefit, as she tried to not make him too uncomfortable just in case she was mistaken.

The Anantya gave him an amused smile, letting her fangs show faintly. Fantasy is always so glamourous. Her blue eyes shimmered with mirth as her voice dropped to be barely audible by even those here at the table. Did reality.. bite?

Palmer chuckled at Kyle’s cynical comment, particularly coming from someone who was supposedly a dispenser of facts.

“Sounds like a good way to dodge responsibility – if you don’t know about it, you can’t be held accountable!” He said it merrily enough, deciding the ignorance is bliss school of thought worked for tonight. Giving a slightly more serious grunt at the reporter’s next comment, though, he turned and caught the waitress’s eye, wanting another drink. “Huh. That’s for damn sure.”

Some might argue that knowledge was power but in his experience most of the time it just depressed the hell out of you. He supposed there might be some benefit in –knowing- you were getting screwed over by the world at large, but it didn’t usually prove helpful.

Celeste, though, seemed a bit more amused by this line of thought and he allowed himself another chuckle at her play on words.

“Hey, I’m still trying to suspend disbelief over here – as far as I’m concerned, these lovely ladies really –are- into me and until I see otherwise…”

Kyle snorted nervously at Celeste. If she wasn't a vampire, she was doing a bang up job trying to insinuate she was one. He straightened his tie as he considered how to answer her question when he realized that he was probably hungry.

The little yellow pills were to keep the raging addition pangs away, but it also suppressed his appetite completely, so much so that he had already lost ten pounds on his already slim frame so forcing himself to eat when he took the pill was the best way to combat the side effect. If women only knew, Nova would have a riot on her hands with an amazing diet pill.

'Speaking of bite...' Kyle waved over a nearby waitress who was talking to the same man he had seen across the stage. He had migrated over and was chatting her up and doing quite well by the smile on her face. Again he was distracted by the curve of said waitress and he suddenly considered just having her for lunch.

Bad Kyle, he mentally smacked himself as he finally caught her eye. Waving her over he turned back to his table guests and tried valiantly to answer.

'Well,' Kyle leaned forward onto the table, resting an elbow on the edge, 'I'm alright with the truth bending or being a little more colorful than it really is or rather I don't mind doing that myself. Never ask a reporter what he, or she, believes in - it's usually not much. We have no faith in our leaders and even less faith in the things that capture our interest. So the only thing biting me lately are my own words - and usually on the ass. Other than that...no comment.'

Kyle smiled graciously at Celeste as he turned to the waitress to order something disgustingly fat and high in cholesterol.

Laughing at her fellow Anantya softly, Celeste gave him a wide grin. You don't have to pretend, mes ami, as long as you keep the cash flowing they will be completely into you. Now.. when that slows down.. the brunette let her words trail off with a one shouldered shrug and a smirk.

Kyle waved the waitress over and ordered, and that reminded Celeste why she'd originally come here tonight. Shifting in her seat some, she studied the crowd some. Since dinner hadn't come to her table she was going to have to go and pick it up. Something horny and a little drunk would do. Or, she thought with a smile, she could grab a little something sweet from a lovely lady in a private room. Decisions, decisions.

Letting out a soft sigh, she decided something easy would be best even if it wasn't free. Scooting to the edge of her chair, she paused and gave her companions each a winning, and rather fangy, smile. Well, speaking of grabbing a bite... If you gentlemen will excuse me, I see a lovely morsel over there I'd like to see a little more of. Rising to her feet, she gave Palmer a slight nod and murmured I'm sure I will see you around..

Turning to step away she stopped, spinning back around and leaned close to Kyle, letting her arm slide along the back of the chair behind him and she paused with her lips a hair from his ear. Her voice was slightly amused and a little sultry as she whispered, I'd be careful, Mr. Evans... not everyone recognizes the Orphans..... or any claim they might put on someone.

((OOC - Celeste out pending responses))

Palmer chuckled a little and shook his head, not having much of a response for 'no comment'. Celeste got up to go after assuring him that money -could- buy sincerity (just what he needed to finish off the illusion) but she stopped to say one last thing to the reporter. She was whispering and as there was a saying about eavesdropping and vexing and resultant unpleasantness, he allowed his attention to be drawn back to the stage, where a woman was slapping a bound and gagged man with a riding crop. Finding that the image didn't do much for him, he glanced around the room and concluded that the crowd had a fairly low 'creep' ratio for the establishment. It was a nice place, good clientele. Maybe he could drag Thaddeus out here for some networking.

Yeah, right. In, as they say, a pig's eye.

He gave Celeste a wave as she passed him, quietly returning the sentiment that they would meet again soon, then turned to Kyle.

"She's a feisty one."Â? He rolled the words, drawling them out with his heavy southern accent, finding he liked the sound of his own voice. "A feisty fiend!" He nodded up toward the stage. "Now him, not so much."Â?

They left to heavy applause, particularly from the women in the audience, and then an intermission was announced. Sighing, Palmer decided that was probably his cue to go. He turned to Kyle

"It was a pleasure, Mr. Kyle Evans."Â? He stood, smiling. "Enjoy the table."Â?

He left two twenties on the table to cover tipping, then slipped out and away.

/ooc Palmer out, out, out and awaaaay

The sickening crunch of Faith's face against the alley wall in between Babylon and its neighboring commercial business almost made Jeremy cum in his pants. His killing spree had taken him from one coast to the other and here in Nachton his penchant for killing had reached its pinnacle. It made him dizzy, hot and sexually charged; he'd rather kill them than have sex with them. Wasn't that a wonder?

Faith had begun to cry quietly as he ground her face into the brick wall. Her nose bleeding profusely, only furthering his need to see more of it. He whipped her around and laid his elbow across her windpipe, slowly crushing it, her arms flailed about, trying to rip at his arm but she was far from being rescued or surviving this little clandestine meeting of theirs. Jeremy was so focused on her gurgling that he almost didn't notice the noise from inside the club drifting out of front entryway. He and Faith were just around the corner in the dark; almost being caught was half the fun, Jeremy thought.

Suddenly he felt the Faith's dead weight on his arm as she slumped against the wall. Jeremy pulled back and looked at the dancer's soft face, her eyes open but peacefully gazing at her murderer. Curls cascading onto her shoulders and the swell of her breasts teasing just beyond her bodice. He lowered her onto the ground gently and as he knelt in front of her, pulled the four inch blade from inside his jacket breast pocket, ready to finish his date with her by bleeding her out. He reached up with his free hand and cupped her face, running a bloody thumb over his lips as he...

'OH SHIT!'

At that very moment, Kyle was very aware of his full belly threatening to revolt and eradicate an excellently well done hamburger and fries. He vaguely remembered walking out of the club into the crisp winter night. The bouncer was particularly sour but that could not damper Kyle's excellent mood as he took a deep breath and looked for a cab. There were none to be had out in front of Babylon so he decided to cut behind it and look over at a neighboring street, thus taking him down the alley way.

'OH SHIT!'

The blood...all the...blood. Kyle's mouth draped open in disgust as he watched a man about to tongue kiss a very bloody woman. He yelled out and got the man's attention not, albeit a little late, that it was the man inside the club he had just seen a few minutes ago. And he was carrying a very large knife.

'DUDE, SHE'S DEAD...oh wait.'

For a reporter, Kyle's ability to observe would appear fairly handicapped to the normal laymen, but the realization that this man killed this woman dawned on him about 5 seconds too late. Kyle watched the man slowly rise to his feet and for every inch, Kyle took a step back.

'Hey no...we're cool. I'm going to just,' Kyle pointed over his shoulder and whimpered when he saw no one in the direct vicinity to point at, 'I'll take off and leave you be. We're good, no wait - don't get up.'

Turning Kyle broke out into a full out run not back toward Babylon but down the alley away from help. Of course, it made total sense to him as he pounded the pavement on a full stomach (something he would remedy when he finally got to stop) with a crazed killer probably running after him. Kyle chanced a look over his shoulder and corrected himself. Crazed killer was not behind him, but above him curiously and within seconds, was on top of him, knocking Kyle to the ground.

Kyle scraped his hands on the pavement, rocks digging into his palms as the killer grabbed his shoulder and turned him over. Reaching out, Kyle did his best imitation of being a man and placed a well good punch into the face of said killer. Would've helped if he had put a little more umph into it and had a chance to really pull back and gain some distance before he let loose with a wild punch. Still, it connected, much to Kyle's happiness, but then so was the knife that was now hovering over him. Self preservation, the great thing that it was, finally kicked in. Kyle bucked the man and moved to side as the killer lost his balance and the knife's point came down into the pavement, next to Kyle's shoulders.

Something else occurred to Kyle just then. Calling for help would've been a good idea instead of cursing and running off. So, with this new fantastic idea, Kyle hollered long and hard as he turned to try and run again, only to be pushed face down onto the pavement. So Kyle took his last 3 seconds of life to contemplate over the ridiculousness of his impending death.

He survived alcoholism, vampires, a burning inferno, drug addiction, a vampire girlfriend and a bombed out mansion to be plucked to the heavens by a killer in a dark alley. How fucking cliche was this shit, Kyle wondered as he dug his nails into the pavement and tried to pull away, just waiting for the sting of the knife in between his shoulder blades. And then...there was nothing.

Interrupted. Jeremy had been interrupted. That had happened only once before and it was what had sparked his recent killing spree. He -hated- being interrupted.

Jeremy slowly got to his feet as the idiot, the one he recognized from the other side of the stage inside the club, began to run for it. Interrupted and now he had to chase after this fucking idiot and kill him which will now take time out of his ritual with Faith here. For that, Jeremy had every intention on severing the fool's head and throwing it into the river. They'll find it after the thaw.

Jeremy caught up to the man and knocked him to the ground. Thankfully the fucker had no fighting skills whatsoever and Jeremy prepared to slice his neck just as he was knocked off balance. He was getting angry now. Pulling himself up he knocked the interloper down one more time, shoving his face into the ground and Jeremy decided to just shove the knife so hard that he'd break the tip off on the pavement on the other side when suddenly there was tremendous wind.

With a resounding crunch, Jeremy watched his prey grow smaller as his body was propelled back at good twenty five feet, onto his ass. He lost his grip on his knife and it flung even further behind him. Jeremy laid on his back, staring up into the sky as he watched the world around him blur in and out in a daze. Something definitely felt broken. Rolling to his side, Jeremy looked down the alley and saw nothing. He looked behind him and still...nothing. Only his interloper cowering face down in the pavement.

Jeremy laughed. Pushing himself forward he suddenly felt pressure on his chest and he was pushed back down, his head bouncing off the pavement, again almost blacking him out. There was suddenly a soft voice and he was again jerked up. What he saw next...well it was the last thing he would ever see.

'I'm ready for that dance now.'

Jeremy didn't even have the chance to scream.

It was coming. He knew it was coming. The vicious attack of a crazed killer stabbing him about a thousand times. Kyle waited for it.

And waited.

And waited.

'Well...what the fuck?'

Kyle turned over and looked behind him. Then he blinked...and looked again. Kyle propped his arm up on a bent knee and looked at his would be killer lay back and suddenly sit up again. He almost said out loud, 'dude we doing this or what' when suddenly he saw the reason for the odd interruption.

Finally Kyle threw up his dinner. He wasn't sure if it was the gurgling noise or seeing the killer be literally torn in half, but his guess it was the person who was doing it to him. Kyle began to back up, away from the splattering of blood and his vomit, trying to look away but finding he couldn't as the gurgling finally began to taper off.

'No...no please.' Kyle got up on his knees and tried to stand when suddenly it was behind him. 'God please...DO YOU EVEN REALIZE WHAT KIND OF NIGHT I'M HAVING HERE?' He managed to yell out as the second killer turned him around.

'You're suppose to be DEAD. Jesus Christ, what does a person have to do to have a normal friggin life in this town?!!'

There she was, in all her glory...Ellis Duban.

The evening had begun with such promise. She had just left Evenhet territory after having thrown one in particular through Liefde towers and thought a quiet evening at Babylon would calm her nerves. Most unfortunate for the currently disemboweled killer, Ellis had gotten quite fond of Faith herself, having Jaden - another star attraction of Babylon - taking a break. She thought a fun evening of sex and latex, maybe a steak and then she'd call it a night.

But noooooo.

Here she was with an ungrateful reporter, a dead stripper and a killer - potentially the serial killer that had killed the previous stripper. Seriously, who was so stupid as to kill in the same place twice? So untalented.

'Well for fuck sakes, Evans...most people say -Thank You- when someone saves them from being fucking stabbed to death.' She gave him a rather sad pout, her mouth covered in deep red blood.

'Honestly, you have hurt my feelings, sir.'

Kyle's shoulders slumped and he grabbed his chest.

'Oh REALLY? THANK YOU FOR EATING MY ALMOST KILLER.'

Kyle was never one to overlook the appropriate amount of sincerity but he just wasn't feeling it right then. He tried to separate himself from the bloody vampire that he could've sworn was left to die in a huge inferno but apparently lived. He wondered if Nova and her friends knew of her reappearance into society.

'So, what's a vampire do after being resurrected? On tour? Ouch!'

She had forgotten how much of a whiner Kyle Evans was and she grew tired of his reasonably stupid sense of humor quickly. Grabbing him by the arm she pulled Evans, much to his dismay, back towards the bloody mess.

The sirens began to wail in the distance and Ellis smiled at Kyle. 'Just say thank you, is that going to kill you? Just to say thank you?'

Kyle tried his best not to follow Ellis back to the disemboweled body but failed miserably.

'You know, I'm amazed every day as to what -doesn't- kill me.' He heard the sirens just then and sighed with relief until he realized Ellis predicament.

'How are you going to explain all this to the cops?'

'I'm not going to be here to explain anything.' Ellis laughed and let Kyle go as the red and blue lights started to flicker off the alley way walls at the opposite end where Faith was sitting prettily and dead.

'You should think of something quick, huh.'

'What? Me?'

Kyle watched as Ellis walked away, seemingly floating up to the one of the third story windows of the next building over, climbing quickly and quietly as the voices of police men started to vibrate down the walls.

'You're leaving me here with this?' Just then a flashlight was stuck in his face and he was wrestled to the ground by 2 very burly policemen. He struggled to look up to see if he could still see Ellis and he was rewarded with a wave and the tail end of her black hair disappearing up to the roof top.

'NOW - THAT AINT RIGHT! OW! I WANT MY LAWYER!

((OOC - Kyle and Ellis out))