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Elizabeth March
Elizabeth March
Sleuth About Town

Jan-9-2013 07:52

(Missed this space. Maybe we can revive it. I sure hope so. Not a great start, but should anyone join, I'd be really happy.)

It had been a long run.
Travelling all over the world to chase after Lazarus Metzger had been tired.
All she wanted now was to sleep.
As the young woman entered the small apartment building, she laughed quietly to herself.
One more time, she repeated her favourite sentence.
"Reformed burglars never sleep, dear."
Locking the door behind her, Elizabeth March - at least that was how she was known at the moment - got rid of her shoes and took a deep sigh.
Fixing herself a drink, she walked up to her desk. Pieces of paper were there, just like she had left them... right?
"Whatever they wanted, they didn't find it. Doesn't matter."
Nobody had broken in. So the only possible conclusion was that someone had paid - well - for her key. Not important. The money in the drawer was there, to the last penny. It wasn't cash they were after.
After a softly mumbled curse, she went in the bathroom for a long bath. And then, out back in the street.
The Tricky Mister was the place when you needed information - or maybe even bumping into an old friend.


Washed Up Punter

Mar-23-2013 21:20

Crab’s footsteps on the marble footsteps echo as she steps into the cathedral office. The office is nothing more than a candle lit room cluttered with three pieces of furniture: a bookshelf, a desk, and a creaky chair. Papers decorate the desk, in an organized manner. Crab shuts the door behind her, and locks it. She takes off her robes and hangs her rosary on a crooked nail above the desk. A visible look of annoyance formed on her face. “Who do you think you are, trying to hide from me?” She speaks without turning around.

A bat that was previously perched on the edge of the single window in the room, shifts into her human form. “I am surprised you remember me.” Grem murmurs, truly surprised.

Crab’s hands form fists, while a smirk forms on her face now. “There are not many of us that walk the earth.” Crab faces Grem, the smirk was not a friendly one. Crab had the face of a homicidal maniac. “Surely, you do not choose now to convert to the words of the Holy Father. I remember clearly that you had mocked and distanced yourself from me.” Crab chuckles. “What are you doing here?”

Grem takes a breath, she regrets making a visit to Crab alone now. “What do you know about Maria Riolo?”

“What about her? She is a friend of the La Cosa Nostra b**** family. Her family picked the wrong type of people to associate with.”

Grem frowns. “Isabella Sanatelli is a friend of mine. She asked me to investigate the case.”

“Good for you.”

Grem takes another breath. “She wants me to find out if this is a murder within the family…or a political murder.”

Crab does not reply immediately. The tension in the room made Grem nervous. Crab walks towards the desk again and lifts a small wooden cross from the wall. She appears to admire the woodwork, observing the fine details. Drops of sweat form on the back of Grem’s neck as Crab’s fingers touch the grooves of the wood.

“I do what the Holy Father tells me to do….” Crab starts to say, turning her back away from Grem. It

Washed Up Punter

Mar-23-2013 21:23

is clear to the younger vampire that Crab does not see Grem as a threat. “His messages guide my decisions, I do not question him, I obey.”

She starts to pace back and forth slowly. Each footstep scraping against the floor felt like a claw scratching across Grem’s face.

“But.” Crab pauses.

Before Grem had any time to react, Crab had bared her fangs and slams Grem’s body against the bookshelf. “Do not be stupid to assume that we are involved with the pathetic Cosa Nostra.” Crab growls as she sends the wooden cross through the left palm of Grem’s hand.

Grem feels the wooden shelves dig into her back, the decades of dust swarms her throat, the heavy volumes of latin slam against the back of her head. She cries in pain as the wood drives through her flesh. Grem will heal faster than a human, it is vampire nature. Crab’s right hand clenches Grem’s throat, the long nails digging in.

“I am a far older vampire than you are. Which means I am faster, stronger, and far harder to kill. Come here again and I will send a cross into your heart.” Crab releases her grip and points at Grem’s chest, she retracts her fangs. "Leave."

Grem wasted no time in doing exactly that. She shifts to a bat and makes a beeline for the Cacaphony Conservatory.

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