Just another report to file...

[Ghost]

Ghost stepped quietly into the franchise coffee shop, a backpack slung over his shoulder. The power of his Blood kept the mortals in the place from staring at him in horror, their minds seeing what he told them was there instead of what their deepest subconscious was silently screaming at them. He knew what they should be seeing, but he made sure that all they saw was one of his many well-known human aliases, in this case an overworked college student with bags under his eyes.

Ghost normally preferred to work in the comfort of the Warrens, but tonight he just needed to get away from his clan. He was getting fed up with all these clan politics. He'd had to sit there and nod his head dumbly while The Fish told him... things he hadn't wanted to hear. Things that meant a fucking year plus of legwork was just something to be filed away for a rainy day, that it wasn't nearly as valuable in the current political climate as it might be a year, or a decade, or a century in the future.

And now... now Ghost had to move on to other things. The death of Seneschal Clayfield was still unsolved in the public eye, despite a lot of people's interest in such, especially those annoying Sons of Clayfield that were starting so much shit lately. Cindi Bryce was now the Toreador whip of three fucking Burroughs. The source of the Habiba virus and the kindred connected to it had still not been revealed. The Master and his freakish Dark Carnival experiments had gone suddenly quiet after the ridiculous incident at Blakemore's rave, which would be a welcome rest if Ghost only knew the reasons behind it all. There was a bevy of new kindred in the Sunnydale burrough, and he had to size them all up and estimate which ones would end up cats-paws, which ones allies, and which ones thorns to be plucked and tossed in the trash. And now there were fucking Lupines showing up on kindred radars.

Sometimes Ghost just wanted to scream at the overwhelming hassle of it all. The troubles that had started with Drusilla and the other Malkavians had awakened a slow-burning rage in him that their various demises had not quenched. He used to take people's bullshit in stride, just accepting it as part of the deal. Now when someone mouthed off to him or snubbed him or said something inane or stupid he wanted to forget about diplomacy and go straight to decapitation.

But these were just impulses to be mastered. Ghost wasn't normally violent by nature, and this mood would pass. He took the coffee he had bought, pretending to sip it while letting the cup's warmth seep into his cold fingers. He found a table near a corner that he could put his back against while keeping an eye on the rest of the room, opened up his backpack, and pulled out an expensive-looking laptop. He fired it up and sat down to get some work done.

[Ethan [NPC]]

Ethan sat in an overstuffed chair in a corner of the coffee shop, a cup of black coffee in one hand and his iPhone in the other. He’d periodically scan the room observing the diverse group of people that seemed to frequent the establishment. It was out of habit really. He’d learned the hard way to be certain of his surroundings.

It was on his latest scan that he’d spotted a new arrival. At first he didn’t think anything of the haggard looking dude taking up residence at the table next to him in his little corner of the store. Seemed like an average guy. So he went back to his phone but he got this strange feeling at the base of his spine. So he took another look at the patrons. This time it was much more than a casual glance. He was sizing everyone up.

Something was off. He just wasn’t sure what… yet.

[Ghost]

Ghost was typing away on his laptop, trying to keep from mumbling aloud all of his gripes. It wasn't long before he felt a pair of eyes lingering upon him. Out of the periphery of his view he caught sight of a youngish-looking guy scanning the room rather ardently. Was it Ghost he was looking for? And if so, why?

He shifted in his seat to get a slightly better look at the man. Did Ghost know this guy? And if so, from where? On his laptop, careful not to seem to obvious about it, Ghost began shifting through the files he had on kindred in the City, along with their known ghouls. Maybe he was a player in the City or one of the burroughs, or maybe just someone's pet. Or *shudder* he could be one of those lupines that were mozying there way into town. he really hoped that last would not be the case. Regardless, he kept a peripheral eye on the young man.

[Ethan [NPC]]

His eyes caught her as she was coming through the door. He could not believe she was back again. She had already been in and out of the place twice complaining about her drink. The barista behind the counter had cowered at her loud, obnoxious statements and caved into remaking the beverage and giving her the 'mistake' as well. Ethan had seen that she would leave then come back in within a few minutes to repeat the process. He could not help but wonder if she was simply throwing these tantrums to con the place out of free beverages for her friends outside.

The barista had a slight reprieve in there there were a few people in line ahead of her. Though Ethan would not have put it past her to muscle her way through to shout at the petite girl behind the counter. She herself was tall and thick, with ratty overdied short blonde hair and sour round face. Her clothes were department store casual, jeans that were obviously too small for her and a bright red t-shirt that hugged tightly to her side rolls. She fumed at the back of the line muttering to herself as she waited for the patrons in font of her to make their orders. The little a barista eyed her knowing that trouble was coming once again. She looked over to her fellow employee at the espresso machine and gave him a pleading look.

There was something about that tubby bitch that he could not put his finger on... she was not right and that tingling at the base of his spine was getting worse. Ethan sat his coffee down and moved to the edge of his seat, slipping his phone into his pocket watching the young woman as she stomped her way over to the counter.

[Ghost]

Ghost was now just pretending to type on his keyboard. He watched peripherally the young man at the table next to him, tracking the movements of his eyes. When they settled on something other than Ghost, he almost relaxed and went back to his work. But his gaze swept over to where the man was watching, and he caught the woman in line.

Ghost hadn't paid her any real mind before. She was just another suburban twenty-something dressed in Walmart's finest, showing off what most people just wouldn't want to see. He had off-handedly drowned out her irritable (and irritating) rants as he was working, but the young man's alertness toward her forced him to pay attention. Without taking part of his view off the man, he watched to see what, if anything, was going to happen.

[Ethan [NPC]]

Ethan shifted in his seat a bit as the pudgy blonde reached the counter.

She glared at the little barista who seemed to shrink backwards as the irritated woman parted her lips to speak. “I ordered a large caramel macchiato, caramel drizzle on the sides of the cup,” she slams the cup on the counter the lid popping off and some of the hot drink splashing out all over her hand, not seeming to effect her tirade. “NOT the bottom… and believe me, I will check before you make it this time; 10 shots of espresso, the shots must be poured in all at once so you must use a separate cup to collect them in first, whole milk half way up, some drizzle, shots poured in, more drizzle, whip cream, more drizzle.”

Her voice kept escalating in volume and pitch the further she got on in her rant and by her last word her face had gone totally red. Ethan’s eyes narrowed and he stood. Hugging the wall he started to move toward the rear exit, away from the counter.

“A trained MONKEY COULD MAKE THIS!!!” She screamed. Ethan picked up the pace, that needling sensation lighting a fire under his ass. Her shriek turned into the shrieks of others and he turned to look and was terrified by what he saw. The tubby blonde was excreting a shadowy, gauze-like substance out of her eyes, ears and mouth. It was as if they were reaching out in tentacle like fashion at the source of her anger. The barista was frozen in terror, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Holy shit…” Ethan muttered in shock.

[Ghost]

Ghost watched in mute shock at the grotesque supernatural display at the counter, his own anger and frustration building. "Goddamnit," he grumbled as he quickly closed his laptop and slid it back into his bag. People were shrieking and running. "Why the fuck," he demanded under his breath as he stood up "can't I just have a FEW MOMENTS of peace and fucking quiet once in awhilie?" His voice rose only slightly. He slung the backpack onto his back and reached for the gun in his coat pocket. He wrapped his fingers around the handle and leaned against the back wall, waiting to see what would happen.