Last time, on Orderly Chaos…

It was while she was thinking this that a few cooks entered the room.

Armed with stakes.

…One of them, however, was armed with steaks, and one could only assume that there had been some kind of misunderstanding.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Mysterious asked the cooks.

Sensing trouble was afoot, she slid her hand to her hidden weapon and hoped everyone else had battle training – of course she did, she'd been through almost every job there was and at least one of them ought to involve combat.

Cassandra had not ever had battle training, but she did know practical alchemy – or at least alchemy gone wrong. On her person she had several volatile mixtures guaranteed to destroy the building and anyone in it. Or at least prove very, very painful, as she could testify. If aimed correctly she was fairly sure that she could turn the cooks into pieces. But not gold.

Before anyone at the table could make a move, the vampire slayers gurgled and dropped one by one. If Julian had been awake to notice— which he wasn't— he would have remarked that yes, crossbow bolts through the neck tended to do that to one.

Attention was drawn to the doorway, which had been kicked open. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed young man in priest's clothing stood beneath it. He was holding a very, very large and ornate crossbow.

"Who the hells are you?" Cassandra fingered a compound of magnesium nervously. If she smashed its glass vial it would produce a blinding light that could get them all out of this mess. "And where on the disc did you get that crossbow?"

Phoenix jabbed Julian in the shoulder discretely.

"Julian! Wake up!" she hissed. "There's a cute blonde with a crossbow! You need to be alert!" She turned to the priest; "Thanks?" she asked, her face skewing up slightly.

The random people in the inn who had just been there to drink and chat groaned. Why did adventures always have to start in this bar?

Meanwhile, Mysterious walked up and grabbed a stake. She staked one of the steaks.

"Hey!" she said, "Free steaks!"

The people in the inn were kind of disturbed by how nonchalant she was about taking it off a dead body. Mysterious frowned, wondering what the odd looks were for, and abandoned the steak. She went to find out who the man who eliminated the threat was – though she was a little disappointed she didn't get to fight.

The young priest lowered his crossbow. There seemed to be something odd about his eyes, but he blinked and the oddness was gone. " 'Scuse me, ladies and gents," he said in a distinctly unrefined tone. "Only those abominations in the sight of my Lord was about to visit death on yer, and we couldn't 'ave that, could we?"

"Your Lord? And which Lord is that?" Phoenix asked curiously.

"The only Lord there is, miss," he said with a tip of his hat. She dipped her head and smiled in return. Though she still was quite curious, the gesture had bought the newcomer a few more seconds before her ravenous need to know struck.

"Do you like steak?" Mysterious added.

"Sorry— I dun't eat meat."

"I don't either!" Phoenix put in, slightly excitedly. She preferred sugary things as they fueled her flames. Meat just wasn't good for her inner Fire. Mysterious clapped.

"Good for you both!" she said. "I wouldn't either, but I do when there's nothing else – and who could pass on free steak?"

"But really, what do you have against vampire slayers, or were you merely lending a hand?" the not-a-fire-demon added, the ravenous need to know finally catching up with her.

The priest looked rather nonplussed. "Well, they was tryin' ter kill you an' yer mates, right? Anyway, I been followin' them all the way from Sto Kerrig. Bloke in the middle stole me 'oly book, 'e did."

"Well, uh, thank you," Phoenix replied. "Stole your holy book? How terribly dreadful."

She tried to hide the fact she had stolen a very special book herself from one Lord Drakhen, but no one had to know that yet. Unfortunately, she was really bad at not looking suspicious when she wasn't trying to seem innocent.

Mysterious tasted the steak idly before making a disgusted face.

"Ew, too much cumin. I hate cumin," she mumbled, aghast, then threw the steak across the room, oblivious to the fact that it hit someone in the face. "Who likes steak anyway?"

She went to look for a waiter to order a drink from.

Julian woke abruptly. It was a side effect of being smacked in the face with a cumin-spiced steak.

Maladict watched the newcomer with interest, one hand still cupping his mug of coffee almost protectively, and the other relaxing from its about-to-grab-hold-of-sword position beneath the table. Obviously, he didn't have to use it after all. Which wasn't that bad, really. He was off duty.

Cassandra rolled her eyes. She was REALLY good at holding grudges and Maladict's remark about vampire alchemists had wounded her (bloated) pride. "Whoever heard of a vampire that preys on virginal coffee beans? Coffee is hardly the stereotypical drink of the species. Mind you neither is mercury.'

She wandered over to the dead vampire hunters and began going through their pockets (this is Ankh-Morpork). She found something that looked (and irritated her skin) like a holy book, which she hurriedly tossed at the priest. She also pocketed a grand total of 14 dollars. Poverty didn't suit a vampire, she thought, so she should start gaining income wherever possible.

Maladict's eyes napped over to Cassandra, not really caring whether she was intentionally referring to him or not. "I always have found stereotypes to be so ridiculous," he said simply, sipping coffee in an almost soothing way. "And I don't prey on it. But feel glad I haven't started smoking just yet."

"I spend most of my time smoking. But not tobacco," she added darkly.

"I only smoke cigarettes. My first sergeant had chewing tobacco. Put me off for life." He pulled a face at his own words.

"I don't smoke in the conventional manner. Generally I smoke in craters before I pull myself together. Chemicals can be unpredictable, even for a decent alchemist."

Maladict rolled his eyes, but still grinned at that. "Well, that's why you should never choose alchemy then." He glanced down at the dead bodies of the slayers still on the floor, pulling another face at the slight hint of blood. And sipped a little bit more of his coffee, just to be safe.

"It's a bit late for that little gem of wisdom now. I'm an alchemist or a blood drinker. Alchemy is more exciting and the neighbors complain less."

"Oh yes. They definitely complain less. Until you blow yours and their house up, that is," Maladict replied sarcastically.

"Half the time they are in no state to complain. The other half I am unable to listen anyway." Cassandra told the truth automatically, then regretted it.

Maladict paused, looking regretfully into his now empty cup of coffee, before glancing up at her. "I'm...not going to read anything into what you just said," he said carefully. "But do you mean that they won't complain, or that they can't complain?"

"What just happened?" Julian whined, pulling the steak off his head. "And who's— Argh!" He caught sight of the blonde priest, cuddling his book like a loved toy. "Teatime!"

The priest looked up. "No, mate, it's gone midnight. 'Ere, you dun look arf ill, you do."

"Teatime?" Maladict cried, trying hard to remain cool. And failing, but he wouldn't admit to that. He looked around frantically before his eyes came to rest on the priest. Then he relaxed. "Oh. Right. Keep the steak there, Jules. Might make you look better." He smirked slightly, covering up his previous slip up by being... well, a git. Phoenix frowned at the vampire.

"Personally, I don't much enjoy talking to meat," she replied dryly, "so I'd lose the steak if I were you. On the other hand, it certainly seems like both of you are a bit Teatime-phobic. I must ask, what have you seen of him, or how have you dealt with him, to make you all so on edge?"

She shook her head, slipping a hand to the sewn-tight pocket at the hem of her dress to make sure It was still there.

Mysterious came to the table holding an extremely large mug of ale.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, then turned to Julian. "Why are you eating steak without a plate?"

"Perhaps you should introduce yourself, as you do bare a certain similarity to a well known and well feared assassin," Cassandra put in regally the priest's way, ignoring the commotion. At least he didn't have an irrational hatred of vampires, whoever he was. The Omnians that knocked at people's doors had once tried to stab Cassandra with a small, blunt pencil they had happened to have to hand. Which was annoying when all she had said was 'don't bother converting me I don't have to worry about the afterlife.'

Some people just don't know how to behave in a civilized society, thought the grave robbing and vaguely antisocial alchemist vampire.

"Do I? Cor." The young priest seemed rather awed by this. "Well, I ain't one, sorry. Peacock's the name, Thomas Peacock. Travelling Reverend in the worship of Deocaster." He bowed, carefully shifting his crossbow to the crook of his arm (where, if it went off, it wouldn't hurt anyone except the ceiling). "Apologies f'r interruptin' yer dinners. Mind if I sit down? I been on me dogs all day, and if they ain't barkin' like the temple of Illatratia(1) I'm Offler." He sat, without waiting for an invitation.

oOo

(1)Goddess of Loud Canines (invented by TMOHzone).

oOo

"Peacock…?" Phoenix mused thoughtfully. "My aunt had rather a fascination with peacocks... sorry; nothing to do with you. Pleasure to meet you, Thomas. I'm Phoenix Shifter. I guess we're both bright birds then, though I suppose my name isn't quite... mine."

"If your own name ain't yours, then what is?" Peacock smiled; brightly, sweetly, but with an undertone of something else deep below the surface. "Phoenix. That's lovely, that is. You from round here, Miss Phoenix Shifter?"

"Why, thank you," she replied, returning his smile just as sweetly and finding herself rather liking it. "I'm glad you like it. My name is Emily, but my mother has the same, and since I can spout fire at will I was nicknamed Phoenix to avoid confusion. It stuck. And no, I'm fresh from Lancre. You?"

"Yeh, I'm local, though I ain't been back to old A.M. for a year. Shades boy, born and bred."

Peacock took a sip of her sweet drink and choked. Phoenix considered complaining about him tasting her Saccharine Mary, but:

A: She rather liked him,

B: She hadn't actually paid for the drink herself,

and C: He'd said her name was pretty.

"I like sugar. What can I say?" the innocent little girl shrugged and smiled innocently.

Cassandra sighed. As an alchemist she could recognize chemistry when she saw it. So then their group would become a human couple with three vampires, a zombie and a mysterious cloaked figure tagging along. Just brilliant.

Cassandra sunk her head into her hands. Lovelorn people got on her nerves, mainly because she was a self-centered person who had spent 5 years pining after one guy. If she couldn't be happy she didn't see why she should try and be nice to those who still had a chance.

Peacock glanced over at Cassandra. "You all right, miss?" he asked between coughs and wheezes.

"You do look a little sick," Phoenix added. Of course, it could be argued that vampires always looked a little sick, but Miss Shifter had had a lot of experience with vampires and could tell when they really did.

"Fine." Cassandra sounded terse, but also quite a bit better than she would have if her true emotions had shown in her voice. She was highly exasperated. "Tonight I have been kicked out the Guild of Alchemists, almost attacked by vampire slayers, and apparently this inn serves it stakes wooden, but right now, yes I'm fine."

"Wooden, eh? Cor. The standards've gone down even more since I was here last." Peacock leaned across the table to her. "If you need anyone to talk— or just complain to— I'm open."

"Yes, thank you." I can talk to myself. There are at least 10 different Cassandra's in my head, she thought miserably. And they argue constantly. And I'm the one left to try and maintain a pretence of normality. And I'm not very good at it. At all.

At times like these Cassandra took comfort in chemicals.

"Like to go out for a breath of fresh air? You look a mite pale, Miss," Thomas suggested.

"Perhaps we should all leave this inn. Before anyone else shows up who wants to kill one of us." She added, "Please tell me you realize that I and a few others around this table are vampires? I mean the vampire hunters must have been a clue."

Maladict downed the last few drops of his coffee (which, to be frank, doesn't mean much), before getting to his feet, once more not really listening to what's going on around him. "Yes. Leaving might be a good idea," he agreed, flashing a smile in Cassandra's direction, before looking at the bodies. "Excuse me, but I have to do it. Noble tradition of a soldier, an' all that." He bent down next to them and, quite simply, starts looking through their pockets to see if they've anything valuable worth stealing. You never know. There could be.

"I've already done that. Old Morporkian tradition." Cassandra tossed him a few dollars.

Maladict rolls his eyes, one hand snapping up to catch the money, and the other pulling a small, jeweled knife from the pockets of one of the men. "Ooh, fancy. Mine, I think." He gets back to his feet, grinning innocently. Or as innocently as a vampire can.

"Okay," Phoenix stated, "we can go. But if you all can't remember, it's quite a while after midnight. I'm thinking the streets of Ankh Morpork at this hour are a might bit dangerous. Not to mention..." she yawned discretely behind her hand, "...I'm tired."

Phoenix reached inside her satchel, pulled out a knife, and started hacking at the hem of her dress. A few seconds later she pulled out a small, palm sized book from the open seam and went to work re-stitching. It was funny, but the expression on her face was reminiscent of Julian's, when he'd been reattaching his hand.

"Cassandra," Phoenix said, "do you think you could look at this book for me? Or maybe you, Thomas, would have some knowledge that might be useful? Any of you know anything knowledge about wizardry?"

Peacock peered over her shoulder at the book. Julian, who'd been looking for Allie and had no luck, peered over the other one. "What's that?" both said.

Phoenix frowned as she flipped through the pages.

"I'm not exactly sure. Lord Drakhen said that this book was the key to his conquest of Ankh Morpork and the feasting of his kind. I thought I should... er, relieve him of it. Now he wants to suck all my blood out and kill me, but at least I have this darn thing, whatever it is."

Cassandra looked at it. "Well...just there, it's an alchemical formula, do you see? And it looks like some sort of poison, only..." She frowned. "It's not fatal. It's can't be. None of the chemicals would kill a person, unless they had some strange allergy."

"Do you think he intends to drug a bunch of people and then suck their blood out?" Phoenix guessed randomly, her nose wrinkling. "And I thought he was sick before..."

"I don't know. Speaking from experience," and here Cassandra shuddered, "we… I mean vampires like him like their prey to fight, because it makes things more… fun."

Very bad and mostly ignored memories were surfacing in her mind. She tried to shut out the screams of terror. Some of them were her own.

"Fun?" Phoenix asked dryly. "Hmm. Well, I'm just glad that I don't have to worry about that happening to me. Er..." she shuddered, "alright, so maybe I do, but at least it hasn't happened yet and I've have my fire," she burst one of her hands into flames to demonstrate, remembered she was holding a book, doused the fire, and thanked whatever god was listening that she hadn't burned it up.

"Anyway, if he tries to kill you now we could all probably do some serious damage. If I see him I will personally break his fangs and watch him struggle with being b-total. I am not seeing Ankh-Morpork become a vampire kingdom. He will remain only a Lord."

With a certain amount of embarrassment Cassandra realized she was panting with rage. Mostly she didn't want Ankh-Morpork to be a vampire state because she knew what she would become in that situation.

"Thanks," Phoenix said, her face cracking into a warm smile. "Unfortunately, it's not just him. He's really, really good when it comes to persuading and he's got over a hundred followers. I doubt he'd go anywhere alone."

"I can blow up whole streets. A few mad vampires with nasty habits I really fought to remove are going to present a very splashy problem."

Cassandra carefully neglected to mention that vampires who still drank blood were more powerful than those who had seen the cup of cocoa at the end of the tunnel. Social betterment makes the solitary weak, and no one is more solitary than a vampire when their castle hasn't been burnt down. Yet.

"Well, watch out Drakhen! Cassandra, Halfway, Allie, Peacock, Mysterious, Not-a-Fire-Demon-Girl, and Maladict are unstoppable!" she called brightly, raising a fist into the air. It was somewhere between inspirational and hysterical, the bright grin on her face and bold tone of her voice. One couldn't tell if they wanted to cheer or roll on the floor laughing.

Phoenix took a sip of her sweet drink.

"Yum."

Maladict watched them with a faintly amused expression on his face, taking a cigarette out of a previously concealed pouch on the inside of his sleeve and absently lighting it from the flames Phoenix had, for a moment, on her finger tips. He raised it to his lips, still looking amused, "So...Is this an outcry for war on his side, or on yours?"

Not that he was going to say 'ours'. He was only in Ankh-Morpork for a while, before heading back to Borogravia. Unless Vimes asked him to stay, or something. So technically, defending the city of the enemy wasn't Maladict's job. Though he didn't quite like the idea of a vampire city in this country.

"You know, if this city did become taken over by vampires, it would mean another war. Those bastard officers will want to take it back."

Julian didn't look impressed. "Pft. War? In Ankh-Morpork? That'll never happen."

Peacock's smile (at Phoenix and her previous pep) disappeared. "Pray it don't. I seen civil war, sir. It ain't— civil."

"You'd be surprised," Maladict replied absently, resting one of his hands on his belt as he looks around.

A whisper at the back of the priest's head, like a yawn, and the essence of Lydia unfurled in his mind. What's going on? Hmm, new people. Are you going to let me talk to them? her voice lolled curiously as she turned about in Peacock's conscious.

I don't think that'd be a good idea.

Oh, you're no fun. Go on, let me out.

To Peacock's horror, one of his hands twitched. "No!" he yelped, and smacked it down, only to realize he'd spoken out loud.

Maladict watched Peacock with a hint of amusement. "Problem? Or do you yell at your hands all the time?"

"N— urgh," Peacock gurgled as access to his own tongue was abruptly cut off. "Hello!" someone else's voice said through his mouth as his eyes spiraled from blue to brown. "What's your name?"

Cassandra began to wonder if it was possible for her to meet normal people. Maladict just kept smiling, for sake of any other facial expression which might somehow make him looking weird. Weirder than a vampire with a cigarette can look anyway. "Let me guess, someone's sharing his head?" he motions to Peacock's body, "Borrowing him? Two minds? No, doubt that'll makes eyes change colour...Tell you what, I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours." He says, grinning just a little flirtily. Not that he can ever help himself, of course.

"I'm Lydia," said Lydia through Peacock's mouth. "Also known as Lola. You must be a friend of Tommy's? Nice to meet you. I'd say hello some other way, but I'm sort of dead, so this is my only choice. Sorry."

"Uh...Friend. Yeah, that'll do. And so? Technically, I'm also dead, and I can be seen talking, can't I?" Maladict grinned, finding no problem with smiling at a Lola in a Peacock's body. He guessed he was used to odd things like that by now.

"Vampire, hm? I knew a vampire once. Nice gal. Not scary at all. Well, I haven't got a body anymore. It was burned up in a fire." Lydia sounded a little sad. "You're lucky. I never thought I'd know what it was like not being able to call your body your own."

Maladict nodded, a little amazed that he's still being able to talk seriously. Usually, by now he would have erupted into laughter, which would only be cured by a whack around the head, followed by a coffee. Must be just because he's with new people.

"Fire can do terrible things to bodies caught in it. But you survived? Bet Peacock's pleased with you being in his head, no?" he managed, lips barely curling at the corners. He was very proud.

"Not now he isn't, I don't think." Lydia laughed. She could feel Peacock's consciousness bubbling under her own, trying to unseat it. "He loves me very much, I know, but sometimes I think he'd rather I was on my way. He wasn't going to tell you about me, can you imagine? That'd be awkward if you happened across me sometime and didn't know!"

"You know, I don't think any of us could even be almost called normal," Phoenix said with an amused smile. "It's kind of cool. A pleasure to meet you, Lydia, and I've just met Thomas, but he seems quite lovely. He did save us all from vampire slayers. Of course, we might have been able to handle them, but it's always nice to be saved the trouble."

"Well, I can think of some reasons for keeping your...female side, hidden," Maladict chuckled, "I had to – for ages. Grew quite tiresome, really. Then I got over it. I need another coffee." He glanced around, almost wishing one would appear in front of him. But wishing doesn't really work.

"Maladict's gender confused. I'm not quite sure if I know what that means, but I'm not sure if she does either, which is part of the problem," Phoenix explained before turning the vampire's way. "I can grab you another coffee, if you like, but I might be gone for a while. Whenever I'm by a kitchen I have the near unstoppable urge to make cookies.

"Do bring me some, darling!" Lola chirped.

Phoenix smiled.

"Coming right up," she said, and marched towards the kitchen. Thankfully, there were no more "cooks" to be found. There were, however, several cooks.

"What are you doing back here?" one called with a furrowed brow.

"Just getting some coffee," she replied with her 'I'm just an innocent little girl' smile. Suddenly, she spotted the chocolate chips. By golly, was that almond extract she smelled?

A program took over in the back of her mind.

"Y'all know how to make Shifterian Chocolate Chip Cookies, right?"

"What?" they chorused.

"Time you learned."

Back outside the air thickening with an unearthly aroma was tantalizing.

Lola smiled at Maladict, "Oh, you poor thing; do you need someone to talk to about it?"

The vampire choked on air.

"Talk about it? Uh...uh, no, seriously. It's fine. Really."

"Mm, doesn't that smell dandy?" Lydia sniffed the rapidly sweetening air, her attention caught by the smell. "Times like this I miss being really alive."

Phoenix burst from the back room with a huge platter covered in something that, quite literally, smelled intoxicating. They were gooey, but cooked just enough. The chocolate chips were almost melting, but the very centers were still crunchy. There were bits of praline poking out, and the biscuits smelled suspiciously similar to maraschino cherries. One would be so preoccupied with the beauties in her hands that they would almost miss the chef's hat she donned (Phoenix really couldn't resist), or the two mugs of coffee hidden in the huge stack. She placed them on the table, beaming proudly.

"Help yourselves, and here's your coffee," she replied happily, her voice worn out, but thoroughly satisfied as she took one, plopped onto her seat, and dipped it in her sweet drink.

"Oh, keen!" Lydia pounced on the cookies. Julian came back inside, looking rather damp. "Has anyone seen Allie? I can't find him anywhere."

Phoenix's brow furrowed as she glanced around, trying to catch a glimpse of the fair-haired vampire.

"I... I don't see him anywhere," she said. "Should we be worried? There WERE several slayers here earlier..."

Maladict, who's attention had been caught by a rather annoying fly buzzing around near the ceiling, suddenly jerked back to...uh, reality. He looked down at the cookies, reaching out to take one as his mind hurried to catch up with what he'd missed. "Hmmm...Nice, actually," he observed, biting into them. "...Uh. Allie. Yes. Who?"

"My friend, the other vampire. Albus. You know, white hair, talking about Teatime?" Julian sighed. He'd expect a vampire to be a little more attentive.

"There was another vampire?" Maladict stated dumbly, blinking again, before shaking his head madly. Wait for it...wait...There. The thoughts had finally slotted back into place, and he looked around. "Oh, him. I don't know, perhaps he went to the privy or something. Unless Teatime found him. What's the deal between them, anyway?"

Julian looked shifty. "I don't know if I should say. It's a bit private. We'll find Allie, then he can tell you himself, if he wants."

Maladict gazed at him for a moment, his gaze penetrating, before shrugging. "Fine." he said simply, about to turn away. Julian paused and considered Maladict's suggestion for a second.

"Do vampires use privies, then?" he asked.

The vampire stopped. And smiled. Dangerously.

"You know, I think that is the first time anyone's asked any vampire that question."

Julian fidgeted under Maladict's grin, actually flushing a deeper shade of grey(ish). "Ur, sorry," he muttered. "I was just. Er. Sorry. Forget about it."

Phoenix grinned at the shear and utter awkwardness, shaking her head, before going up to the Random Nobody #1 sitting by the door.

"Did a vampire with white hair exit here recently?" she asked politely with her trademark 'I'm just an innocent little girl' smile.

"What?" slurred Random Nobody #1, glancing cockeyedly up and hiccupping— not so much the worse for drink as the worse for many drinks. Phoenix pursed her lips in agitation.

"Oh, that's helpful, that is," muttered Julian. Behind him, Lola flew into a choking fit as Peacock began to climb back up into his own consciousness. The Lancre girl whirled around when she heard the frantic coughs.

"Lydia?" She blinked, "Thomas...?"

Mysterious turned to the scene going on.

"Are you choking on the cookies?" then something more interesting hit her. "Ooh, cookies!"

She picked up three in one hand then turned her attention back to the others.

"Yes, cookies. Really good cookies." These might be better than alchemy. They certainly taste better. If only every vampire could try one of these, thought Cassandra. They wouldn't want blood anymore, though they would probably develop rampant cookie-lust.

Phoenix beamed as her work was praised, warm sparks prickling and crackling on the tips of her fingers. She was glowing (literally) as she and the others left the Random Nobody #1 and the inn behind.

"Pure Shifterian genius, these are," she chimed. "It's taken many generations of my family to get this recipe just right, but I think I've perfected them with the addition of almond extract." Phoenix shook her head sadly. "Some people think of baking cookies as the chore before the treat; it's not, though. Stirring the batter enough so it's mixed thoroughly, but not so much that it gets tough, baking them in the oven for the just enough time for the chips to melt, toasting the praline in the right amount of sugar... It's a work of ART, like painting a picture. You've got to pour your very soul into it."

She coughed when she finished her passionate spew, slightly embarrassed.

"Hm," Mysterious shook her head. "I believe all such things can be described much more simply in one word: Yum." To finish it off, she took a bite of her cookie – although that was kind of missed under her Cloak. "Darned Cloak hides everything..." Mysterious grumbled quietly, then she looked around. "Was there something we were talking about or that was going on a moment ago?"

She looked around again.

"Guess not," the Cloaked Figure went and grabbed the last cookie, and pulled it up to her mouth.

Maladict darted forward in a slick blur, snatching the biscuit (the last one!) from Mysterious before it could reach her mouth, then retreating to a safe distance. And grinning.

"Needs must, Mysterious. And I need a cookie." He glanced around once more as he bit into it, one hand absently checking to see if the sword is still attached to his belt. He panicked when he couldn't find it, before somewhat stupidly realizing that it's on the other side.

"So where were we heading again?" Now that the cookies were gone Cassandra wanted to get out of the cold. Besides they were still dangerously close to the inn.

What Cassandra didn't know was that Phoenix had a few extra cookies stashed away. It was always wise to keep a few on hand if she needed to bribe someone. Or just got another sugar craving. Sugar was good for her sweet fire.

"We were looking for Albus, Cass. How we're going to go about doing that, I'm not sure," Phoenix put in, wondering how she was going to eat any cookies at all without the others noticing. She yawned. "And we left the place I was intending to sleep in. Couldn't we save our adventures for the morning?" she added longingly as she started a medium-sized fire in her cupped hands, watching the late chef hat slowly shrivel in its singeing kiss. Cold needed banishing, she felt, and what better way than with her lovely fire? Phoenix sincerely hoped that Julian wouldn't mind.

Julian didn't mind, or at least he hardly notice. He lagged behind the others, not talking to anyone in particular but muttering aloud anyway. He didn't like people at the best of times; now, for better or for worse, he seemed to be stuck with a large group of them. The worst thing was that somehow, he felt obliged to stick around: wandering around the city at night was largely a fairly successful suicide attempt. Bloody conscience.

Maladict put his hands in the pockets of his slim black jacket, his fingers tapping against the side of his sword in a repetitive rhythm – enough to be annoying for some, and yet calming for others. It was accompanied gently by his soft humming, which even Maladict wasn't quite sure why he was making. But at least he wasn't dancing along the street. Not yet, anyway.

Must be coming down from a coffee high or something, the part of his mind which was always thinking and annoying the rest of his coffee-induced brain thought.

Trailing behind the others none too far from the quietly grumbling Julian, he almost skipped past the alley with the movement in it. But then his mind caught up with his movements, and he stopped, turning to look in it, the smile of a coffee-addicted-vampire on his face.

"Albus? Allieee?" Maladict inquired in a sing-song voice, about to prod into the darkness with his sword, but then thinking better of it. Just.

Phoenix glanced the zombie's way.

"Say something, Julian?" she called curiously as she turned from him and peered into the alley, lighting it up with her flames.

The orange, flickering brightness revealed a figure clothed in a shade of such perfect black that it merged with the night. Who it could be would have been anyone's guess, but Jonathan Teatime's blonde curls were a bit of a giveaway.

oOo

And now for this chapter's cast (in order of appearance):

Mysterious, created and played by Purple Peanutbutter

Cassandra Larimar, created and played by E. J. M. Adams

Julian Halfway, created and played by Fanless

Thomas Peacock, created and played by Fanless

Phoenix Shifter, created and played by She Who Shines

Maladict(a)(canon character), created by T. Pratchett and played by CriticalAngel

Lydia/Lola Wording, created and played by Fanless

Random Nobody #1, created by She Who Shines and played by Fanless