Moonless night. (open)

[Moon (DELETED 6546)]

The rain fell and it was dark, like the opening of a terrible book where even the clouds refused to let through enough light to illuminate the pages clearly, but offered just enough to give you the shape and nothing more.

The shape was in the ally, nebulous and indistinct, unable to stand for more then a few seconds before he would fall upon the wall, his world tilting around. How long had he been like this? He didn't know. it didn't matter either. Even the changes in him were insubstantial...much like a bird who could not fly it did not matter if he had wings. Nor did it surprise him when the voice in his head comforted him. He would not be expected to fly. His direction was down..not up.

The world would spin again and he would fall to the other wall, almost tripping over a corpse that was left upon the ground, hidden among the refuse. An idle foot perhaps extended out, covered in the bile and vitae of the previous few hours. Hours which he couldn't necessarily recall.

There was a lot now he couldn't necessarily recall.

The world would right itself for a moment and he would feel his body move on the accord of something else, like he was no longer in control of his actions but rather watching as some kind of distant viewer...the patron of some movie, or the reader of some fiction. He reached down and took a hold of the body, dragging it deeper into the alley itself before he would right his own clothing, straightening out some of his attire..soaked though it may be...and eventually would step out onto the street.

He looked as threatening as a wet cat. Shaggy clothes that did not quite fit, backpack, and...a weapon. A gun hidden (poorly) in his waistband and a blade kept stupidly in his backpack where he could not get to it easily. All pieces of a part to play. He looked up the street in one direction...down the other...and would walk.

[Patrick Bishop]

"******* rain." He pulled his good up over his head and lit his cigarette before stepping out into the night. Yesterday had been a rollercoaster if a day for and even now he was still trying to adjust to everything that had happened. The rain did feel good onhis skin now. Hell everything felt good and new. He was like a new born baby in many ways. He should be looking for Sky but for now he really just wanted to see what he could do.

His new weapon was hidden in a canvas tube that hung from his shoulder and his gun was at his side, hidden by just jacket. The streets did not seem to be too crowded, probably due to the rain more so than anything. He was no hurry to get anywhere because truth be told he had no destination.

He looks up from under his good and spots a figure coming from na ally a bit in front of him. Something looks off but he is not sure what it is. Something is telling him to follow. It could be his gut orthe fact that he didn't always make the best decisions. He would keep his distance but he would follow.

[Moon (DELETED 6546)]

He continued to move along the rain kissed pavement, on occasion stopping to look at the street sign. It wasn't a quick check either..rather he would look to the sign as if reading it several times, looking to the cross street and the path onward as if he wasn't following a set path, but rather one of intuition.

It was very much like he was being pulled by some string..waiting for it to go taught before the sensation would tug him back into motion, or that there was a blue-tooth in his ear feeding him directions...but there was no sign of such a thing. His ear was to pale for that. Still from behind Patrick could see that he was armed, and did a piss poor job of concealing it.

Every now and again a car would drive by, shattering night's gown in a naked and cold splendor. His eyes would follow it as it moved, lulled as if it was some metallic angler fish. This would happen several times until one vehicle would come..clearly the driver was drunk as he was ever so slightly veering towards the sidewalk where he was walking. What happened next in the course of a few heartbeats would have defied belief if it wasn't for the town they were in. The car continued to move at that angle, looking as if it was going to hit the man Patrick was following...who was moving almost as if he didn't recognize the car was a threat. At the last moment the Driver must have realized what was going on and veered...but it should have been too late...except the figure on the sidewalk was pulled back. It wasn't that he simply moved back on reflex, or jumped, or something so graceful as that...

...it was more like there were strings set to his arms that simply tugged him. Like a marionette pulled away in an exaggerated motion. The Car sped up and kept moving..the driver in that state of being thankful he didn't feel a 'thump'...and hoping no one looks at his license plate number.

The Driver's eyes would catch Patrick's...guilt filling his glazed eyes. He wouldn't remember any of this come morning's light...but as he drove off attention might be paid back to the one he was following....whose gaze also followed the car and found itself fixed on Patrick.

That was when the rain stopped, and the figure would burst out in a run crossing the street in a flash towards an industrial park.

[Patrick Bishop]

He sees the car come towards the figure in front of him. He would of ran and tried to save the figure but he is dumb founded when it moves out the way. The cigarette falls from his mouth as he tries to understand what happened.

The moment does not last long though. The figure makes eye contact with him and starts to run. "****." He takes off after the man trying to close the gap between them and keep up.

Why was he running from him and more importantly why was he chasing after him. Curiosity kills the cat, or so they say. Good thing he was already dead other whys he'd be worried by now.

He pays attention to the man being care of his steps. He doesn't want to trip and risk losing him on a turn or something but he is also wondering what the **** had just happened. He had seen a lot of shot in this city but never anything like that.

[Moon (DELETED 6546)]

He would run...and rather then the distant almost sleepwalking tenor of his movements from before..now there was a strange elegance to his actions. He slammed straight into the chainlink fence and climbed it nimbly, landing on the otherside with a thud and a roll, high-tailing it into the varied and strange jungle of the industrial park. One always had to wonder what it was they made their...strange vapors that would belch out into the sky. Safe, they said. Natural, they said.

Like the time your Mother lied about monsters not being under your bed.

It was difficult to keep up with him as he moved...but Patrick would have two things going for him. For one, whoever it was ran through rain and dirt and was now leaving rather obvious mud tracks wether he liked it or not...and two, as a bonus, if Patrick followed over the fence he would find a glint of plastic nestled in the dead grass..out of place.

A USB stick. No more or less. It must have fallen from his pocket when he landed. So now...options. Probably a cruel thing to do to a curiosity stricken cat...but options are what makes the world interesting. Take the USB and see what, if anything, might be on it...or move further into the Industrial park..following a trail of muddy prints and hope it doesn't lead into a trap. There was a sense that whatever he was he was lashing out more on instinct then any real train of thought. Obvious since he came here and not a safe house.

He could have been freshly turned, yet if that was true where was his sire? Or was he off his leash unsupervised? Or had something else in between gone horribly wrong? Questions questions.

[Patrick Bishop]

This ****** was like some kind of animal as he climbed. Luckily for him he was use to having to jump fences in his line of work. He lands with a thud on his feet and rises. Something catches his eye for a moment but he ignores it. He now needs to catch this guy.

If his heart could still pump it would be racing at this point and adrenaline would be rushing through him. He had no clue where he was or where he was going. He was just following. Following this man.

Was he scared of something? Was he scared of him? Was he leading him somewhere? This was a mystery he had to know the answer to.

[Moon (DELETED 6546)]

It was maybe a strange mix of all those answers. Within the labyrinthine maze of pipes and valves he would catch occasional glimpses of his shadow as it would pass by his view. Once he was in the maze of corridors he had doubled back on himself sometimes..crossing his path. It made the tracks hard to follow...

Neat if he did it on purpose. Likely though he didn't.

Soon enough though the silence would grow again until he might have thought the slip had been given and that he was gone, until the PA system suddenly pierced the stillness following some lovely siren singing the words, "Uh huh, this my ****, all the girls stomp your feet like this." to a stomping beat before that metallic piercing sound struck again...followed by a few clicks, the sound of somebody fumbling with controls.

"Uh...Stop where you are! I got you Surrounded!" followed by a sudden pause as if to realize how stupid that sounded, but quickly rolled on hoping it wasn't noticed. "Who are you and why the hell are you following me?""

[Patrick Bishop]

For a moment he is lost. Lost by what just happened. He stands there for a moment trying to figure out what is going on. He wasn't sure what to do or what to say. He slowed and eventually stopped once he had eyes on him.

He held up his hands not so much as a sign of surrender but more so to try and convey that he was not a threat. The man looked almost as lost and confused as he felt.

"My name is Pat and I'm following you to make sure you are okay." His heavy Irish accent was thick with concern. "Are you okay? Do you need help? Are you hurt?"

[Moon (DELETED 6546)]

There was a strained bit of silence after Patrick's response, rather like the one on the other end was trying to answer it himself. He wasn't ok, but he could find no way to express what was wrong. "I..uh...had a bad night." he said. God that was stupid. "I'm not hurt..." and that hanging 'but' just sorta lingered in the air.

"I just can't get help...hospitals don't fix this." It was then he knew what he wanted, really, was a drink. A touch of bourbon, with a kiss of something else inside. Warm and virgin. "Also...I may have hurt somebody...bad. But it's not my fault...I...don't really remember what I did. Cops don't care about that though..."

There was silence for a few moments, as he finally got a few moments to look over Patrick properly. It was then followed by a question of his own, "What the **** are you? Some kind of Cardboard tube Samurai?" he said with just a touch of amusement. There was the dawning realization that the last few minutes could have been boiled down to someone flicking the lights on in a dark room and giving him a jump scare. Patrick was alone, nor did it look like he had any weapons, seeing the canvas tube he carried as just that.

"**** this ****." was the final message from the PA before the door opened above him, emerging out of an office was the still rain soaked figure. "So...ya..like I said...I think I hurt someone bad...I'm rather fucked up and I wish it was just drugs, the last few nights are a blur and just for a cherry on top I don't know my name or where I live..so...if you were me, what would you do?" he asked.

[Patrick Bishop]

The man is all over the place it seems. He narrows his eyes as he thinks for a moment. "Well I'd try to find some help. Might not be the cops but I'd find someone." His hands where still raised.

"Do you smoke? I have a cigarette if you'd like one." He was trying his best to seem not threatening as he studied the man. "Maybe we could go to a bar and talk. It doesn't have to be bar though."

He wasn't really sure what to do or how to handle this situation. It would help if he knew what the situation was, what better way than to keep him talking and maybe get him drunk.