The Critic Corner

Everafter Apartments, 10:00 PM

"Tick, tock, tick, tock..." With the only sound available to the wolf's ears being his clock, his only thoughts he had in his skull were the ticking sounds. Sitting tiredly at his desk, Blake was alone in the makeshift office he had created for himself with his only company being a lit cigarette in between his lips. It was a quiet night for once, but he knew it wouldn't last... he had been staring at the phone for about an hour now, waiting for that annoying ringing to break the nigh silence. Sure enough, about twenty minutes later the skin-clad wolf's ears caught the high pitched sound of the device and he picked it up within the same second.

"This is Blake." He said as quickly as he could, eagerly wanting to leave the box. "Yes, hello Sheriff. It's Loreen. Theres, uh, fight happening in front of the Pub again..." The old woman said, one of the many window-watchers of Everafter. "Yeah, I got it Loreen. Pretty sure I already know who's down there." Standing up and giving the elder a goodbye, Dedrick sets the phone back down and makes his way out of the building. He had sort of fibbed- he knew exactly who was down there, and he knew they weren't going to be any real trouble... so he'd take his time a little bit.

About ten minutes of nice, quiet walking later and Blake could see the bar's neon sign down the street clearly in the night; "The End of the Rainbow Pub", multicolored letters shown boldly emblazoned by the darkness surrounding it. What got the wolf running however wasn't the sight, but the yelling and smashing sounds coming straight from the parking lot. It didn't take him long at all to lay his eyes on the strange 'fight' going on; two big thugs were trying to keep hold on a much smaller man- except the man had horns and the lower body of a goat, and was yelling what Blake assumed to be curses in some kind of bastardized Latin. All the while an even shorter, dwarf-like old timer with a beard and a busted nose was yelling some much more more understandable curses. Believable or not, stuff like had become a rather common sight in Everafter.

Letting out an audible sigh as he approached the madness from behind, Blake pushes past the little bearded fellow -who quickly quiets down- and takes a closer look at the fight for a moment. The almost 6'5ft tall thugs still hadn't noticed his arrival, far too busy trying to keep a hold on the extremely willful Satyr who was currently atop a car and throwing a steady stream of drunken kicks and punches upon the duo whenever they stepped close enough... "Alright, that's enough!" Blake yells; bringing the action to an immediate stop with his loud, almost bestial voice.

"Oh, um, hello there sheri-" One of the giants start to say only to get interrupted by a cheap shot to his throat by the goatman, barking and seemingly ready to throw a counter strike until the skin-clad wolf takes a step forward... making him take a step back. Raising his eyes to the familiar man atop the car, the Satyr slowly gets out of a fighting position and eventually steps down, his hooves clicking on the asphalt. "Smart thinking, Homer." Blake says to the younger supernatural, taking drag of his cigarette before turning to the bearded old man behind him.

"So what's the story this time Connor?" The little old man hesitantly stepped up to the wolf, his green outfit now showing brightly in the light and his flustered features being shown off more openly in the light. "Sheri- Mr. Dedrick, I'm not sure who called you but they were wasting your time." Connor said in a polite, but nervous, Irish accent; his tone hiding a small dash of weaselness beneath it. Kneeling down a little bit to meet the dwarf face-to-face, the wolf puffs a thin cloud of smoke in his face before replying.

"I'll decide what is and isn't a waste of my time, Connor, so I'll ask again: what was going on here?" The leprechaun backs away fearfully upon seeing the wolf's eyes through the smoke... the noxious cloud revealing they're animalistic nature for a moment before dissipating. "A-alright sheriff, I didn't mean to offend of course!" Connor mutters out slightly frantically as he tries to recall the series of events and... modify them, only a little bit.

"That horned vagabond over there, he was causing a ruckus in my establishment! When I asked him to leave he hit me with a bloody haymaker!" The old man pointed at the young Satyr standing away from them, and sure enough Blake could smell the old man's blood on his knuckles. "Alright, that's one part of the story down; but there is still the matter of what you're boys were trying to do with him out here. Why didn't you just throw him out and call me?" Turning to take a look at the at the two thugs, he could smell the glamour on them and he silently wondered what was hidden beneath the disguise.

Blake's train of thought was lost when the old leprechaun started talking again with his high-pitched but still ragged voice... the kind of voice that is tortuous for someone with a normal sense of hearing, much moreso for the wolf. "When my bouncers tossed him out he kept coming and trying to rough me up, sheriff! They were just trying to, err, calm him down when you arrived... I didn't feel the need to call you since this was simply an act of drunken anger is all!" Lowering his eyes back onto the Satyr, by the name of Homer, the skin-clad wolf examined him... he wasn't speaking up, but he clearly wasn't agreeing with the Irishman's words; his facial expression, the way he crossed his arms at certain times in Connor's story, even the beat of his heart. Something more was clearly going on here.

"Okay, unless someone wants to debate that tale...?" Dedrick says slowly, obviously giving Homer a chance to tell his side of the story, but just as he expects the young Satyr stays quiet. "Then it seems we're done here. C'mon Homer, your coming with me; and don't make it harder on yourself than it needs to be." The skin-clad wolf says while taking another drag of his cigarette and standing up straight, beckoning for the Satyr to follow. After some moments the willful goatman reluctantly steps up to Blake and silently follows when he starts making his way down the street.

They had been walking for around twenty minutes now, Blake guessed it was probably 11:00 PM by now... clouds were forming above in the nigh sky, hiding most of the stars and only letting a little bit of moonlight through. The only thing guiding the two was Blake's own bestial senses and the occasional faulty streetlight. The burning cigarette was especially highlighted in this darkness... as it was on every other Everafter night. This was what the supernaturals who couldn't give the Baptiste Brothers what they wanted had to look forward to when the sun went down, inky blackness and the constant threat of getting mugged- and that is why it was rare for Blake to see anyone else on these nightly strolls of his, the only times he got some peace and quiet...

The skin-clad wolf knew this wasn't a stroll of pleasure or privacy, however, and turned to the short Satyr walking beside him... Homer Katsaros, the youngest of his clan; he and his two brothers were well known around the Everafter community for being kindhearted and hardworking, but forced to do... less than legal jobs to provide for themselves and they're father. They were among many other members of Everafter's community, good beings stuck doing bad things.

Blake sighed and shook his head before pulling the stroll to a stop, dropping his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out before turning to the Satyr with a questioning look on his face. "Alright, are you ready to tell me what really happened down there?I know Connor is full of sh#t." The younger supernatural looked surprised for a moment before turning his gaze to the ground nervously... only speaking after the wolf gave him the time he needed. "He told you the truth, sheriff, I started the fight." The satyr said quickly but sheepishly, obviously trying to avoid the interrogation.

The skin-clad wolf saw right through him, however, as he'd become accustomed to doing. "Listen, kid, I know that's the truth but I also know it's only part of it. Give me you're side of the story." Dedrick crossed his arms and stared at the Satyr disapprovingly; his bestial eyes had a tendency of getting the truth all on they're own doing, and after a few seconds Homer sighed. "O-okay... I came in there to pick up some drinks for Ace and Cletus, we were just gonna celebrate a, err... successful job, that we did on the weekend."

The young supernatural leaned on building, scratching his head before continuing. "After I paid for them, I was about to walk out when the leprechaun made me an 'offer' the pay for my dad's medication... because it was apparently obvious we couldn't do it ourselves." The skin-clad wolf seemed to think for a second before nodding. "And that's when you busted his nose." The satyr didn't say anything, he just answered with a solemn nod of his own. Blake seemed content with the answer, pulling out a carton of cigarettes and removing another one of the cancer sticks before speaking. "Alright, that's good enough for me. Your free to go." Homer looked up from the ground, that surprised look once again in his eyes. "J-just like that?" The younger supernatural muttered out, getting a small nod from the wolf as he lit yet another cigarette.

"Connor said he wouldn't of called me anyway, so I'm assuming he's not gonna press charges. Want a smoke?" Blake offered the carton to the satyr, who merely shook his head a smiled a little bit. "No thanks, Mr. Dedrick... I'll see you around, I guess." With those last words the supernatural ran down the streets; obviously eager to get home. The Wolf gave a half-smile before taking a drag of his cigarette and starting his own stroll back home. Only a few minutes later, however, a all too familiar sounds reverberated in the lycan's ears... gunshots, not too far away by the sound of them. Without so much of a thought, Blake made a turn and ran in the direction of the bang; seems this night wasn't nearly close to ending.

The sound of the skin-clad wolf's feet stamping on the cold asphalt and concrete would seem to be the only noise in the night to anyone with normal senses as he dashed through the darkness. Any supernatural with superior senses, however, could hear all the other things going on; muffled gunshots, yelling and growling... Blake was one of these unlucky few, the ones who felt every sin in a place like this. That very fact is why he was picked to be sheriff, and why he was running now... his senses guided him through these blackest of nights.

He'd run several blocks from where he left Homer, rather quickly thanks to his bestial physicals, and had finally stopped at an alleyway... a rather expensive looking car was parked inside with bullet holes peppering it's windshield; a fancy looking fellow was sitting in the driver's seat preoccupied with a phone call, while a woman sat on the vehicle's hood seemingly doing her makeup. Blake's brow raised a bit as he tried to figure out exactly what had happened... he eventually decided to make his presence known. "Hey! You all alright?" He yelled out to the two as it seemed they were distracted, getting them both to look up in his direction. Though the woman seemed able to see him fine, the man turned on his headlights... nearly blinding the Wolf in the process.

Upon seeing it was just Dedrick, the man set his cell phone down and stepped out of the car; putting on a fanged smile before speaking up. "Ah, hello there Mr. Sheriff... it's Nathaniel, remember me from that community meeting not too long ago? Good to see you again!" The fancy fellow said in a fake-cheerful tone as he approached the Wolf. Although the man managed to hide it well, his voice still radiated sleaziness and his breath still smelled of blood. Blake knew exactly who 'Nathaniel' was: one of the many wealthy vampires who paid they're way to the top of the economic food-chain in the Magic Zone.

"What happened here exactly?" Blake skipped the formalities and gestured at the bullet holes, watching as the grin faded from the vampire's face, now replaced with a look of nervousness. "Oh, well that's a, uh, long story! Me and my companion here, we were..." The wealthy man turned to the woman sitting on the hood of his car, who Blake could now see was scantily dressed and had some slightly inhuman features. Easily putting the clues together the Wolf sighed and took a drag of his cigarette. "She's a working girl, I get it, just skip to the part where someone sprayed you with bullets." He really didn't want to deal with a rich man's nonsense right now, but he couldn't just have some guntoting idiot taking popshots whenever they felt like it.

"Yes, yes, yes, I know your a very busy man." His words may of sounded sincere, but Blake couldn't help feeling the vampire was being a sarcastic bastard. "Unfortunately I wasn't exactly... focused, when the attack happened, if you know what I mean...?" Nathaniel grinned as if he had accomplished something, but it once again dissipated when the Wolf gave him a unamused stare. "But, no, I didn't see the gunner. Please, ask her, she was looking out the window when it happened. Now, if you'll excuse me I have some calls to make." Returning to his vehicle and quickly grabbing his phone, the vampire walked past Blake and began to dial a number before stepping out of the alley.

Thankfully finished interviewing the sleazy bloodsucker, the skin-clad wolf turned his eyes to the woman... she had stayed turned away and silent through the entire conversation. Giving her a small tap on the shoulder before walking around to see her face, he finally managed to place her scent. She was an elf- Dark Elf, to be specific; jet black hair, violet eyes, pointed ears, and that natural beauty her race was born with. Blake offered her a comforting smile, but she continued to look down at the ground; not in fear, but moreso in shame... which he fully understood. Fantastical creatures like her deserve more than... this.

"Look, I just want to ask you a few questions about the shooting. Think you can answer them for me?" He asked in a somewhat gentler tone than what he usually speaks in, though his bestial nature still persisted in making him seem more threatening than intended. After some moments of silence, the elf eventually gave a solemn nod and looked up at the Wolf. "Good. Now, did you see the shooter? What did he look like?" The woman shrugged a little bit as she seemingly tried to remember the ordeal before clearing her throat. "I did, but not really well. He was on a motorcycle, had one of those helmets on..." She shook her head and lifted up her purse, digging through it for a moment before digging out a cigarette. "Alright, that's fine. Could you tell what kind of gun he was using?"

She seemed a little bit preoccupied with searching through her purse, eventually getting frustrated and dropping the bag to the ground. "Where the Hel did my lighter go?" She muttered and thought for a minute before Blake snapped his fingers in her face, drawing her attention. "Right, it was a pistol. Couldn't tell you what kind... do you have a light?" The elf said, staring at the lit cancer stick already in between the Wolf's lips. He gave a nod to both her answer and her question and pulling his own lighter from his pocket. Holding her cigarette out happily, she let him light it before taking a long, satisfied drag.

"Thanks... need anything else?" A thankful half-smile adorned the working girl's face now, obviously growing a little bit more comfortable. "No need at the moment, it's late. If you remember anything else, my office is always open." With that Blake sat up, giving her a small nod before turning to leave... and of course, the vampire chose now to walk back and get in his way. "Oh Sheriff! I had something to ask you, about my name hopefully not appearing on the report." Nathaniel said in his naturally sleazy tone, stepping between the Dedrick and the exit. Although he was dangerously close to simply shoving the bloodsucker out of the way, he stopped when he saw movement in the street behind him... a motorcycle driving by, mysteriously silent.

Before the skin-clad wolf could say or do anything, another gunshot ripped through the open air... the vampire slowly looked down at his chest to see a bloodstain creeping through his shirt; right where his heart was. Within seconds of this Nathaniel screamed as his body burst into flames. Blake threw the now burning husk to the side before charging in the direction of the shooter, only to take a bullet to his shoulder that sent him crumbling to the ground and roaring in pain. Giving a short hand gesture, the shooter rides off and leaves the two behind.

"Sh#t!" The dark elf yelled as she ran over to the wounded wolf, trying to pick him up while he growled and yowled... she looked at the bullet wound with shocked eyes, it was emitting a steady stream of smoke and made the blood around it boil. "Wh-what the Hel is that?" She pulled Blake over and set him against the wall of a building so she could examine the sizzling wound. "F#cking silver rounds... you might wanna back up." Dedrick muttered, trying to regain composure as his shoulder was cooked from the inside thanks to his lycanthropic nature.

The elf didn't question his words and backed away from him... watching with intrigue as his hand began to grow reddish fur and extend it's claws. Rearing his arm back, he slashes the entire chunk of his shoulder containing the silver round apart; sending sizzling pieces of flesh and bubbling flesh all over the ground, and the silver round falling to the ground away from him. He lets out a heavy sigh, leaning back on the brick wall as his shoulder slowly stopped burning. For a few seconds he loses consciousness, but thankfully the elven girl spoke up.

"Is there, like, any way I can help here?" She asked in a confused tone... Blake looked up and blinked a little bit in response. "Yeah... Nathaniel has a bottle under his seat in the car, can you get that for me?" His voice was a lot more eased back now, surprisingly. The elf raised her brow and stared at him for a moment before walking over to the car, grabbing the bottle and examining it... silently wondering how he knew it was there as she walked over to him.

"Sanguine's Touch? Isn't this a vampire blood-drink?" The elf asks curiously before handing the red bottle to the wolf, who removed the the cap easily. "The 35% of blood in it is pig's blood, the other 65% is red wine; not a lot of alcohol, but it'll help." With those last words done he takes a long chug of the vampiric liquid... breaking contact with the bottle after some moments just to breath, wiping his lips of the red substance. "Thanks, I really needed that. What's your name?" The elven working girl took a seat beside him, taking a drag of her cigarette.

"It's- well, it used to be Felara, back back in Svartalheim, but now I just go by Laura." Blake turned and have her a nod, then... they just sat there for a time, until the Wolf eventually stood up. "Well, Laura... I'm going to need to get back to my office, I've got a lot of work to do." Standing up with him, the dark elf gave him a silent nod, looking at him awkwardly before stepping out of his way. "Thanks... remember, my door is always open." With that final pseudo invitation, Blake leaves the working girl behind; his wild night was over. Now the boring part of writing up a report on a wealthy supernatural's death comes and explaining it to the Baptiste Brothers comes in.