sticky-yellowCount Alaine(?) - Deirdre's sire. Sabbat member. Count Dracula fanboy. He had wings. He killed Wayland. Poor bastard.
sticky-blueOur greatest prize - more leads on the shadowy organization that prints people.
sticky-yellowWe have been provided a few havens on behalf of the Prince.
sticky-redVictor and I have voted in regards to the warehouse by the ocean.
textJesse is the dealer's name.
textFIFTY DOLLARS???
sticky-yellowThere is a sheriff, and his name is Humphrey. Or something. He's weird. Weird. Weird. Weird. Weird. Weird. Weird. Weird. Weird. Weird. Weird. Weird.
textThere are always these infernal foes at my door...
sticky-yellowSunny peels off to confront the scum of Charleston to feed. He witnesses that of a deal between a fiend of the night and a dealer of whimsy.
sticky-redDave asks no questions and takes all that money. He charges homeless people an exorbidant amount. This guy sucks!!
sticky-blueThe dealer mentions a cook capable of making a wonder-drug. This may be exaggeration.
sticky-blueThere has been a model embraced by the name of Mercedes. Is she a car? I hope she's a car.
sticky-redThe Prince had no hand in this death - so he claims.
sticky-redThey have killed* someone before.
sticky-redThe cook has a robust distrubtion ring, supposedly.
sticky-redThree Rules dominate this town;
- Streets and Alleys are Public Feeding Domain.
- All Embraces must go through the Prince. No rich people.
- Don't Make Waves, Asshole
sticky-blueThe Anarchs are here. They have the same kind've beliefs, supposedly.