Deep Exploration (OPEN)

[Corentine (DELETED 6472)]

Cori watched the man in front of her, speaking on what he did with his time. She sensed that he was not proud at all of his extra-curricular activities. “I see nothing wrong with doing what you must to survive, Grant. I can honestly say, that I would do the same. ”Cori knows she has done the same and will continue to do so, until she has security. Which may take more time than she had anticipated. She has sensed that the darkness that Trahir had spoken of is slowly creeping in. She has fought it for a while, but her attempts at keeping it a bay have been futile. She realized this when she sliced an earlier kill from head to toe, while it was still moving. Those thoughts were quickly extinguished…

It is then that his words, latent with sarcasm hit her. He surely best not think that this meeting is anything more than that. Cori has an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, always will. He sparked her interest when he spoke of breaking and entering into buildings and reaping the rewards of the bounty that may be inside. “So Grant, how about if we meet tomorrow eve at Lancaster’s bar. Like I said, it is a good place to go to discuss certain things that you may not want heard by others. How about 11:00 pm?”

Cori steps back from the man and reaches to the small of her back, once again, grazing the butt end of her gun… checking. It could be habit, or it could be something else. She realized after a bit that this man is no threat to her safety and he probably has more secrets than she. Her autopsy of the zombie’s brain would be safe with him, she hopes. As far as if he is like her or not… she assumed him to be vampire, just not the type she was used to.

Cori looks at her watch, as it is getting late already. She has not been back to the apartment in days and wonders if Trahir is currently there. He has been so busy with other things, that they have not had time to discuss anything, let alone her adventures in the catacombs. Her right hand leaves the weapon and goes right to her hip… she is unaware that her fingers begin drumming lightly, showing impatience with the man.

“Grant, there is no need for you to dress for this meeting… I just really need to rid myself of all this putrid black slime from the zombies. It would not be the intelligent thing to do, walk into a bar and all…like this. So I need to change. ”She has a feeling that he will not pay any attention to her words. He seems like the lawyers that she dealt with on the daily, when she was human… the ones that wore arrogance upon their sleeve and their collar. They would have worn it as a cologne, if one was named that. Arrogance, this may be fun…

[Stonehouse]

Lancaster's Bar had a familiar ring to it. Stonehouse had never frequented the place, in fact he'd never even heard of it, but he already felt reassured by the name. Having spent most of his life living in the historic county of Lancashire, Lancaster being the county town, the venue had a certain homely resonance to it. Sure, technically speaking Stonehouse's hometown of Manchester was now in the metropolitan county of Greater Manchester, and his adoptive university home of Liverpool was in the metropolitan county of Merseyside, but the purists knew that it was all still the red rose county of Lancashire. Stonehouse was proud of his northern heritage, and the thought of visiting somewhere that may offer him a tiny reminder of home made him smile.

Now he had two tasks to complete: obtain some better clothes; find the rendezvous point. Locating the bar would hopefully prove to be an easy job. Stonehouse had spotted various city maps during his explorations, particularly with reference to the train lines. Although he had not really ventured onto the metro system, choosing instead to travel by foot, usually via the sewer network, he was well aware of its existence. On many occasions he'd heard the rumblings of a train carriage above his head as he trudged through the sewers. The vibrations often caused mini showers of cold condensation to drip down to the tunnel floor. Eerie noises echoed through the underground passageways, rippling away into the distance as the trains vanished on their journeys. Stonehouse had contemplated using the transportation offered so readily to him, but was increasingly uneasy about being stuck with crowds in confined spaces. The thought of being trapped like a sardine passenger in the train carriage can, filled him with anxiety. His senses had been on such heightened alert recently that he appeared to pick up everything around him. Each word, each scent, each vision seemed amplified. Walking, alone, was the way forward for now, but the train maps would at least serve some purpose as they often highlighted nearby places of interest. Lancaster's Bar would surely be on the list.

Stonehouse did wonder if a bar would be too noisy for him to cope with. The thought entered his head almost immediately when Cori had suggested it. However, a combination of her reassurance that it wouldn't be too busy, and Stonehouse's overwhelming quest for more information, meant that he would force himself to adapt and overcome his peculiar phobia.

He responded to the woman's suggestion. "Yes, 11pm will be just fine. I look forward to continuing our discussion."

Stonehouse pondered her point about not needing to dress for their meeting. Was this a sneaky test, some kind of reverse psychology? Was she actually trying to lure him into a false sense of comfort and security prior to her turning up looking glamorous in an expensive dress and heels, or power dressing in a smart trouser suit? If that were the case, and he simply turned up in his jaded suit, complete with sewage stains, then she would definitely hold the upper hand for the second time in as many days. No, the sartorial master would have to make an effort and dress to impress, just in case.

With a warm smile emblazoned across his face, Stonehouse gestured to his counterpart as if he were about to leave. Suddenly he pointed over Cori's shoulder and allowed a concerned expression to take over from the smile.

"Looks like you have another potential target heading your way!" exclaimed Stonehouse, waving his finger furiously towards the space behind the assassin.

Whether there was or wasn't a zombie lumbering towards the pair was irrelevant. It simply afforded Stonehouse the split second distraction that he needed to vanish into the shadows. Tomorrow night would undoubtedly be very... interesting.

[Corentine (DELETED 6472)]

Cori escaped back into the sewers making her way back to the Haven. She wasn't sure if Trahir would be present his schedule kept him from their regular meetings in the lair. To say that she missed them was an understatement. Cori wiped those thought from her head and focused on her meeting with the odd man in the sewers. He surely was not the typical that she met down there. As she made her way to the tower her thoughts began to wander. It seems rather exciting that she may get intel from this man... that may assist her in robbing and breaking and entering. It surely is beneficial isn't it?

Trahir was in the lair when she arrived and she gave him the run down of the meeting. He did not blink a proverbial eye and was aloof as always. He warned her to be careful and to not let her guard down. Funny thing... Cori never let her guard down EVER. She showered and laid down to rest...as her head hit the pillow..she heard the door shut and knew he was gone.

Cori awoke to a loud noise... realizing that it was those damn crocs. How anyone could raise creatures like this was beyond her. She supposed it had some benefit...maybe clean up. Cori wonderedwhat if the crocs were fed vampire blood? Would they become undead reptiles? That thought left as soon as it had entered...her focus switched to the meeting at Lancaster's with the one who called himself Grant. As she showered she began to ponder... why was he in the sewers... why was he so arrogant even in the face of a killer. Yes...Cori was a killer and began to accept and even like her new role.

Cori dried herself off with one the the big fluffy towels and exited to the bedroom. Now what to wear? Cori grabbed a pair of skinny jeans and a small black T shirt...her normal ensemble. She grabbed her knee high boots laced them tightly and thought... What am I doing? Meeting some stranger in a bar to gain knowledge on how to rob people? That wasn't all... not even close. Cori wanted to know why he was in the sewers... why he was as he was... she wanted his story. This was the first of her kind she had met outside of the family. Someone who she initiated contact with..with no help from Trahir.

Cori felt no need to leave a note she knew Trahir would watch over her...if he felt it necessary. With a quick movement she slicked her hair into a bun and exited the haven. It was 10:35..enough time to arrive and analyze the scene before his arrival. She hoped that he found some clean attire... Lancasters was no upscale pub but it certainly was not the sewer. If he had not changed..he would stand out and that is never a good thing.

Cori arrived at the pub and scanned the crowd. The regulars were here along with some new blood. She took a seat at the same table she had met Revelation at...and waited.

[Stonehouse]

Grant Stonehouse loved a party. He loved to host a soiree at his apartment back in Manchester, inviting a large handful of selected guests. He found that a dozen or so people was the ideal number for a dinner party as everyone could speak with everyone else without the fear of ignoring other guests and appearing rude. Two many attendees created an atmosphere of a crowded bar or nightclub, and too few could lead to awkward silences or one person appearing to take over and hog the limelight. It seemed like an eternity since Stonehouse last put on a show and had visitors to his swanky flat. He’d invited twelve guests, with him taking the role of both chef and sommelier. Was that his last supper, so to speak? Wine had now indeed been replaced by blood in a strange, ironic twist.

Tonight was not exactly going to be a dinner party, but it was the first time that Stonehouse would have to put on his entertaining head since he’d found himself marooned in this crazy city. Crowds had become his nemesis. It wasn’t that his charisma had abandoned him or that his wit had been put in cold storage, he simply felt like every single member of a gathering was running riot inside his head. It was like listening to all their conversations at once, with no ability to filter anything. The damn was broken and everything flooded into his mind, drowning Stonehouse’s senses. This evening he was going to meet up with the mysterious killer named Cori in a public bar, undoubtedly occupied by other clientele, and try to apply the charm to facilitate some kind of combat training. Stonehouse was supremely confident when it came to flattery and socializing, and he knew that one on one with the blonde would prove no obstacle. However, a weird and unfamiliar nervousness was lingering around him like a bad smell when he contemplated the other strangers in the pub.

There were many unknown elements to the forthcoming rendezvous, and Stonehouse had done his very best to prepare for the meeting, but the loose cannon that was his overloaded senses was still a huge cause for concern. Having slipped away from their initial encounter deep below the city in the catacombs, Stonehouse had embarked upon a reconnaissance mission. In many ways his plan had reaped rewards, as he’d located Lancaster’s bar and been able to scope out the joint. However, to say that there had been the odd twist and turn would have been a gross understatement. Nevertheless, Stonehouse had survived the previous evening’s excitement, and even managed to leave with an exceptionally clean suit, which was a huge bonus. Turning up for this evening’s meeting in bloodstained clothes would surely have been a major faux pas.

Stonehouse had heard an annoying saying at a training course: perfect planning prevents piss poor performance. Stonehouse needed to put in a good performance tonight, to play a starring role, so ensured that he planned thoroughly and arrived at Lancaster’s well before the agreed time of 11pm. He didn’t enter the bar, but instead chose to lurk in the shadows, eyeing up the customers who came and went through the front door. There wasn’t a huge turnover of punters, which please Stonehouse. The fewer the number of drinkers who frequented the bar, then the less chaos there would be inside his brain.

Stonehouse watched Cori like a hawk as she entered the bar, noting her clothing, the way she wore her hair, the way that she scanned the area before disappearing into the pub. Was she looking out for him, or making sure that she wasn’t been followed? Perhaps he wasn’t the only one who harboured caution this evening. Putting fingers into his ears and scrunching up his eyes as if he were trying to block out his surroundings, Stonehouse emerged from the shadows and made his way through the door.

It was all about staying focussed from now on. Stonehouse tried to hum a tune inside his head to try and block out the white noise created by the folk hovering around the bar or huddled up around the tables. Normally he’d like to weigh up the crowd, make mental notes of the faces, but tonight was different. He simply made a beeline towards the woman with her blonde hair in a bunch. “Good evening, Cori,” said Stonehouse enthusiastically. “It’s great to see you again. I like what you’ve done to your hair.”

Flattery was easy when he meant it. The skin of her neck, left exposed by her bunched hair, set a niggling sensation ringing in the pit of his stomach. Suddenly Stonehouse felt thirsty, but it wasn’t for any of the drinks behind the bar.

[Corentine (DELETED 6472)]

Cori enjoyed meeting new people, as long as it was purposeful. Tonight, meeting Grant, had its purpose. Spending time alone in the sewers and catacombs had been out of the ordinary for her. As a human she was invited to every social gathering imaginable… from black tie events with her law firm, to house parties and the like. Being around people was a daily happening for Cori, but not so much lately. She wanted this to change, immediately.

As she sat, waiting, she surveyed the crowd. It as a good mix of the alive and the undead…all mingling and seemingly enjoying their conversations. She knew that the couple in the corner was a mixed pair…a male vampire and a female human. They were sitting close to one another and he had his hand in hers. They looked “ normal” but she knew better. This female was either going to be a snack or dead by the end of the night. Cori merely shrugged the thought off, not caring at all. The darkness had filled her mind as of late… but had not yet taken her soul.

Would it, could it ever fully consume her, she thought. To walk around emotionless and uncaring for all her undead life. It was something that was so foreign to Cori..so unimaginable. Who would want to live like this...it was similar to the life of a robot. Going through the motions, with a purpose and not allowing for anything to deter from said course. It seemed, to her, that operating in this way would be less than interesting… borderline mundane and boring, for sure. The Darkness, it may be something that Cori should fight against…

As she watched them holding hands, she thought back to what Trahir had told her. That she could not and should not touch another vampire. It was seen as disrespectful to him, but she always wondered why. Is it that he thinks of her as weak and not able to shrug off the advances of another…or maybe that it is as she was told, he she was his toy, his plaything. As the thoughts entered her mind, her brow furrowed and she felt something inside of her…anger, intense and full of fire and flame. It simply was not right, not right at all.

She did not need to turn around to know that Grant had walked through the door. She smelled his scent immediately. It was if something clicked as soon as the scent filled the room. As he approached the table, she assessed him… he had gotten a new suit and did not look as disheveled as he had when she first interfaced with him. He walked with confidence, dare she say arrogance… but there was something underneath it. Something that was not so confident… that something was what Cori wanted to know more about. Then, she saw his eyes, they had that same glisten as before… it was not something she had ever noticed about another, not as a human or as a vampire.

“ Good evening Grant, I am glad you could make it.” Cori smiled but made no move to get up, no move to extend her hand to the male..she sat stoically in her seat and waited for him to sit down.

[Xuhixe (DELETED 6962)]

Xuhixe has finally become relatively familiar with the many streets and countless buildings of Harper Rock, even if it takes an extensive amount of time to get from one place to another. Her spirit is a restless one, however, and her energy rarely ebbs from her tiny body-it is surprising her dog could keep up with almost an entire day of walking, and it is very common that those days creep deep into the nights as well. Ever since a stranger by the name of Pi appeared to her and bestowed to her a very unusual gift, Xuhixe would admit she feels much safer at night.. albeit more wary of herself. Since that night, the woman has found herself exceedingly curious of Lancaster's and made her a personal goal to find the place. On her own.

Being who she is, Xuhixe is quite accustomed to other people being unable to understand her, so her independence in that sense is forced over her. She could write notes, but it is a hassle to set up when on the move with a cane in one hand and a harness handle withn the grasp of the other. Being the occasionally impatient type when it comes to such matters, stopping to motion for help, then retrieve a wad of paper to write questions on it whenever one comes to mind is a cumbersome deal to her regardless of the order. There is a much simpler way, she knew, but sometimes the cooperation is not always there at hand. Instead, Xuhixe often chose to find out herself. Luckily, she managed.

The noise of the pub is not as unbearable as it would have been a couple of days in the past as human and dog step into the building. Perro, the dog in question, seems to feel mutually of this opinion, but his guard is held steady as usual. Ears erect, nose twitching, the large german shepherd mix traverses around the Embraced toward groups that are occupied by mostly or solely human strangers. Xuhixe is unaware of this, of course, as she holds onto the very large hound's harness handle to be lead through the thin crowd of pub goers. Her white cane, held within the other hand, sways and taps the floor with each of the little woman's steps, and every so often a click sounds from her mouth. Lancaster's would be another place for her to 'explore' in such a manner, but this does not bother her either.

Perro tugs the woman steadily towards a couch closer to the pub's fireplace that is unoccupied for the time being, aside from the humans mingling nearby. Once his charge has been seated, the large furry dog helps himself to the cushion immediately next to her. A huff through the teeth and a grin from Xuhixe shows her humoring of the giant hound and she gives the big guy a scratch behind the ears, still clutching her cane in the other hand. The palm she scratches Perro with moves from the service dog to cup its fingers, tap their tips to her lips, then bend back her forearm and hand away from her face in an arch. "Thank you."

Perro gives her a little lick to a cheek.

[Stonehouse]

Stonehouse was about to offer a hand of friendship towards Cori, a simple gesture of polite acknowledgement, but paused just before he swung his arm towards her. The blonde sat still, fairly motionless except for a half-hearted attempt at a smile, and gave off a somewhat frosty aura. Stonehouse couldn't decide if her demeanour was an intentional ploy to make him feel uncomfortable, as if she were totally blasé about the meeting, or whether she was just downright rude. Was this going to be a battle of wits to see who held the upper hand?

During their initial encounter in the catacombs, Stonehouse had spent half of his time trying to analyse the behaviour of the mysterious assassin, and the other half worrying about the fact that he was unarmed and somewhat vulnerable. It looked as thought his evaluation would continue throughout this meeting, as the secretive killer, with a fascination for impromptu autopsies, already had her defences up. There was a slight difference in the vulnerability department this time around, as Stonehouse had a gun safely tucked away inside his pristinely clean suit jacket. That reassured Stonehouse, as he would at least have a fighting chance of defending himself if the atmosphere between the two relative strangers soured. He hoped that it wouldn't come to that, not only because he had already witnessed the woman's prowess with a weapon and feared the outcome of confrontation, but also because he wanted a positive result. He wanted to gain knowledge and skills. Stonehouse cast a nonchalant smile in Cori's direction as he pulled out a wooden chair and sat across from her at the table. Two can play the "I'm in control" game, he thought as he sat up straight on the chair, ensuring that his eyes were ever so slightly higher than hers to allow him to gently look down at her without appearing to be in any way aggressive.

“I hope that you haven't been waiting here long, Cori?" enquired Stonehouse. He knew exactly how long she'd been in the bar, having waited patiently in the shadows outside until she entered. Glancing around, taking in a brief overview of the surroundings in a way that would be akin to skim reading a newspaper article, Stonehouse read the headlines then returned his focus to the person sitting across from him at the polished wooden table. He noted six customers nearby, and estimated four or five others hidden in alcoves or obscured by the bar, but he was only interested in one person, Cori. "This seems like a decent enough place," continued Stonehouse, "nice choice."

Stonehouse was acutely aware that a public place could prove to be a major stumbling block due to his inability to block out the background hullabaloo of a crowd, but so far he was coping. The bar was busy enough to not make the couple overly conspicuous, but not so busy that the white noise of chit-chat from other drinkers didn't swamp his senses. As he shuffled his chair forward so that his knee rested against a chair leg, Stonehouse felt a strange sensation in his nostrils. Something was tickling his senses like a tiny feather duster. Turning his head, giving the impression that he was examining the array of draught drinks on offer at the bar, Stonehouse noticed the cause of his nasal irritation: a dog; not just any dog, a highly trained guide dog for the blind.

Stonehouse neither liked nor disliked dogs, or pets in general. He had no time to look after a dog, to take it for walks and give it the care and attention that it would require, especially as he often had to travel with his job, and spend time away from home. Therefore, he'd never had one, settling instead for a hamster, Ratty, during his childhood. He had friends who adored dogs, who treated their furry friend as part of the family, not just as a pet. The obedience of dogs fascinated Stonehouse. It was the incredible relationship between the canine servant and its human master. Stonehouse often wondered who the real master was in such relationships, as regularly the dog owner would be the one running around to bow to the dog's needs. Stonehouse appreciated obedience and loyalty, and revelled in the role of the master, but that was always when dealing with people. Animals were not his forte.

Stonehouse offered another warming smile towards the chilled Cori. "Well I think that we are safe from prying eyes," said Stonehouse as he gestured towards the dog and its owner - who held a tell-tale wooden cane - by tilting his head slightly in their direction. "The customers here are blind."

[Corentine (DELETED 6472)]

Cori did not want to come across as rude. She hated not be able to shake another’s hand, she hated not being able to touch anyone. Cori was not the touchy feely type… the sort that stand so close to you that it could be that you are conjoined twins with them… not at all. Cori was affectionate and she liked contact with others. Shaking hands was the polite thing to do… but she could not do it.

She watched him take his seat..he kept his shoulders square and his gaze never left hers. “ I see that you found a new suit, Grant? It fits you well.” She did not want to throw out random compliments to the man that she had met in the catacombs, that would come across as odd and he may think that she was flirting. That would not be in her best interest and certainly not his. She also did not want to let on that she saw a small glint of silver and black coming from inside of his new suit coat, when he sat. So “ Pretty Boy” is packing, she thought. This may prove to be more interesting than she thought.

It was not Cori’s MO to initiate or even participate in idle chatter… she felt it was a waste of time, especially when information could be shared and knowledge obtained from the sharing. Talking about the weather, about ones day was important to her as a human… as a vampire, her thirst for knowledge was almost as strong as her thirst for blood. The issue at hand was…that Grant seemed to be one that enjoyed partaking in idle banter. He seemed to be the sort that liked to talk about himself, even rave about himself if warranted. Would it be best to entertain the thought?

“ So Grant, how was your day?” The fact that those words just came from Cori’s mouth made her smile. It was the first time she had genuinely smiled in front of Grant...and she realized, it would probably not be the last. Cori shuffled uncomfortably in her chair, crossing her legs at the ankles, as if bound. This made her feel a bit more comfortable, secure.

Cori did not even notice the woman with the dog enter, nor did she pay them any mind. All sorts came into Lancasters..it was as if it was the melting pot of Harper Rock. When Grant brought it to her attention, her immediate thought was to get up and ask the woman if she needed anything... that thought was extinguished as it may derail her from her intel gathering session.

[Xuhixe (DELETED 6962)]

Xuhixe lifts her cane in both hands and finally sets it upon her lap after a few minutes. The sound of voices and clinking dishes treating her ears like a discordant melody; she closes her eyes and inhales the smell of liquor trying to imagine the scene around her..then thought about how she once did not have to imagine. Life can be quite cruel. Xuhixe gradually came to accept this truth. A little wry smirk crosses her lips. She had never had a drink before, yet here she is perched atop a plush couch next to the crackling fire of the fireplace... in a pub. There is no plan to drink either. An intoxicated blind woman waving a gun around at pub would undoubtedly make the front page headlines. ((I hwood luff to see that.)) A thickly latin/hispanic accented voice chuckles to the sightless woman. 'I am certain you would..' Xuhixe could not help but grin at the mental image of such ridiculous behavior and at her voices usual shameless honesty.

They are precisely why the petite normally orders water.

((Señior es tokin' abou' choo.))
'Who?' Xuhixe quirks a brow.
((Tall, dark, an' hansome, en the table to the far lef'. ))
'Should I speak to him?'
((Probably not. He migh' just wanna ea' choo.))
The sightless woman frowns and sighs deeply through her nose, biting her mental tongue to not inquire the point of this information, or about how often the voice has mentioned such dirty nonsense since they first moved to Harper Rock. Xuhixe is already beyond convinced the voice in her head is a total pervert-there is no point in arguing it. Better get on that drink request..

Rolling her shoulders back, Xuhixe gives a little shimmy to push off her backpack and carefully set it in her lap as well. Her fingers dance around each sides of the until they locate a zipper and tug it up. She then reaches into the little hole, rummages around and eventually pulls out a paper pad with a little pen attached to it by a string. Using the back in her lap, she supports the pad and slowly scrawls the letters 'W A T E R P L E A S and E' --all capitals-- then tries to wave down a waiter or waitress--however this place works. Normally, Xuhixe avoids eating or drinking in public places ever since she had gone blind. But.. today would be an exception... She is expecting to meet someone.

[Stonehouse]

Stonehouse had heard it said many times that as one sense diminishes, the others seem to somehow increase and compensate for the loss. If a person was blind, like the woman sitting nearby with her dog, then their hearing would become more finely tuned to make up for the visual deficit. Their sense of smell may become more acute and honed, able to detect more subtle changes, or perhaps their sense of touch would transform detections made by the fingertips into mental images. Basic tests could help to affirm this suggestion. For instance, by simply closing one’s eyes, somehow food seemed to smell or taste nicer, or music could take on a deeper meaning. Blindfolds were excellent accessories to add fear to a torturer’s victim, or pleasure to a lover’s body, simply by heightening other sensations as sight was denied. Recently, all of Stonehouse’s senses appeared to have gone into the stratosphere, without the apparent loss of anything. So far it had seemed like a curse, as Stonehouse had often found himself unable to decipher the bombardment of information that was thrown at him. Perhaps he needed a stick, something like the young blind woman held in her hand, to alert people of his condition so that they would be more accommodating? However, the white cane carried by the dog owner also acted as a potential flag, a sign that she had a flaw. Stonehouse knew only too well how rather unscrupulous people would try to exploit those with a flaw, those with a weakness. Maybe it was for the best that Stonehouse’s soft spot was not on display. He certainly didn’t want anyone to know of his Achilles heel, especially the blonde assassin who sat across from him. Stonehouse had already witnessed her skills with a firearm, and knew that her bullets would be as effective as any poisoned arrows fired by Paris.

The psychology graduate would need to focus all of his senses on the femme fatale, but he was instantly thrown a little off guard when she asked how his day had been. Was that a minor hint of friendliness from the so far cold and frosty woman? There also seemed to be the subtle beginnings of a smile breaking out across her classically beautiful face. If she wasn’t careful, she ran the risk of fracturing her exquisite cheekbones. However, the rest of her body looked tense and defensive. Her legs snaked around one another and her arms remained locked in position, acting as barriers. Stonehouse was going to have to prize her open, and charm would have to be his crowbar, but first he needed to respond to her question.

Just how was his day? What a question! Such a simple, safe, non-offensive enquiry asked by millions of people each day, but for Stonehouse it was virtually impossible to answer without telling a tale like an old soldier reciting stories of the wars. Should he mention the blood and brains that adorned the streets just outside the pub only hours earlier, like confetti at a serial killer’s wedding? Probably not, nor the effort required to get a new suit. No, some details need not be imparted to a relative stranger. Stonehouse returned the smile and offered an underwhelming reply. “My day was ok,” he said with a shrug of his broad shoulders, “just a bit of this and a bit of that.”

He paused as he stroked his chin, before continuing. “What about you?” asked Stonehouse as a cheeky grin spread over his face, “Did you chop up any more zombies today, or do something more exciting like shoe shopping? Nice boots, by the way.”

Stonehouse didn’t allow his counterpart the opportunity to reply just yet, deciding to drop a rather unsubtle hint of the potential business at hand. “I’d have probably stolen them,” announced Stonehouse, “probably a few pairs actually. You can’t have too many pairs of shoes, right?”