"Getting tired, eh?" She gives you a wink and a companionable grin. "Not surprising. Well, I've been meaning to pay Killian a visit for a while now, so follow me!"
The Player turns in a swirl of coattails, lifting the latch on the gate and swinging it wide for you. The fire escape feels a bit...less than sturdy under you, and you hasten after her, keeping a firm grasp on the railing. Seemingly undaunted by the half-closed door, she strides on through and into the apartment. A little more cautiously, you follow.
The room you enter is dark after the chaotic glow of Nighttown, and it takes your eyes a moment to adjust. By then, the Player has already pushed through the velvet curtain that separates this room from the next. You can hear her voice raise in a greeting, as well as a muffled reply. Looking around the small entryway while getting your bearings, you notice a few sitting cushions around a small table. Nothing much of interest.
You brush aside the velvet curtain hesitantly, peering into the next room. The Player has already made herself fully at home, sprawling like a red lioness on another pile of cushions while she addresses what must be the alchemist. He has his back to you, long white hair tied back in a tail and sleeves rolled up as he works at something his body hides. Before him and curving around to line the left wall is a counter topped by shelves, crammed full of bottles and jars and alchemical apparati. Bunches of dried herbs and other less savory items hang from the rafters, just in reach. The room is lit by small globes hanging here and there; they seem to be filled with water and strange, glowing pebbles.
The Player waves to you as soon as you cross the threshold. Grinning, she looks back to the alchemist. "Here, Killian, meet my charge for the day."
"Do you always bring your charges here to pester me?" says the alchemist, not without amusement. He turns to regard you, slipping off the thick-lensed spectacles that had guarded his eyes, and you note with a start that those eyes are red. His skin is as pale as his hair, his features almost elfinly fine, and he rakes you over with a gaze both incurious and strangely predatory. When his eyes return to yours, you feel yourself freeze in place, half-hypnotized by the red depths.
"Killian," the Player cuts in sharply, half-rising, "don't even think about it. If you're hungry, go prowl the crowd, but don't touch my charges."
The alchemist flinches, breaking the stare, and you unfreeze and back up a few nervous steps. He gives you an apologetic grimace, waving to the bank of cushions that the Player has half-claimed. "Please, make yourself comfortable. I have a little bit of work to do--" He waves to the counter, on which you can now see a mortar and pestle, and several smaller bowls. "--but, if you need anything..."
At your silence, the alchemist sighs, still looking abashed, and turns to resume his work. The Player tugs you down onto the cushions. "That's One-Fang for you," she says, smirking lightly at his back. "The most easily guilt-tripped vampire I've ever met."
"Would you mind not giving away all my secrets to the newcomers?"
The Player just laughs and nudges you. "Go ahead, ask him something. He doesn't lie either. It's rather funny."
You settle a bit further into the cushions, considering your questions.
Vampires Alchemy Nighttown
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