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Erin looked over, surprised out of her concentration by the sudden flow of words. She suspected that the ebullient swordsman was making fun of her, but she'd never been very good at dealing with that. She shrugged and answered the question posed. "The school has a nutritionist that designs the meals, and there's a snack bar as well. It's not gourmet, but it's okay." Most of her attention was now on Jack of all Blades, but a small yet significant portion remained fixed on the zombie.

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Still in conversation with Dead Head, Rycon states, "Ah yes, Doctor and I we're both born in Germany. I moved away from there a few years ago. We've known each other for awhile." Then she feels something drop. She looks at the arm she was shaking to see it fall out of it's socket. "Waaahhhgg!" She made an awkward shout as she dropped the hand and tripped over her father's trenchcoat, falling on her bottom.

After the laughing, giggling and chuckling was over (one of the chuckles came form her). Rycon gained her composure again and stands up asking the revenant, "D...Did you do that? I don't believe I can pull arms off that easily..." She didn't shake his hand hard. She turned to Fulcrum, asking, "So, have you two known each other?" Rycon was still shaken from the removed arm, the others could tell by her voice.

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Jack blinked for a moment, trying to ascertain whether or not teenager was kidding. Finally he broke out laughing. "Damn, chica, loosen up!" Tilting his head to one side, his expression softened as he raised an eyebrow. "Hey, you know we wouldn't be letting 'Head run around if he wasn't on the level, right?" Glancing over at Avenger and Lukos, he suppressed a wince. "We're, uh, usually pretty good about that sort of thing."

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Jack of all Blades grumbled with mock annoyance. "Hmph, if anybody's 'Jack from the West End', it's me."

Lukos turned his gaze to the swordsman. "I beg your pardon if I have offended you, Jack of all Blades. But in our circles, Jack of the West End refers to this city's Alpha Werewolf. And I once again mean no offense when I say that we have been protecting our section of the city for far longer than you have been wearing that mask. We just prefer to stay hidden in the shadows." Truning his eyes upon Avenger once more he spoke with a lower tone, "Unless of course something forces us out."

Lukos' hearing was keen enough that he could pay attention to Avenger and keep tabs on the other conversations in the room. No laughter escaped him at the antics of Dead Head and Rycon, however. He was a little too focused for that.

"Hey, you know we wouldn't be letting 'Head run around if he wasn't on the level, right?" Glancing over at Avenger and Lukos, he suppressed a wince. "We're, uh, usually pretty good about that sort of thing."

"Better the devil you know, is what you are thinking?" Lukos responded to Jack's worrisome observation. "While you may not know me, I assure you it is not I that is the problem." Lukos removed his left hand from behind his back, using it to point a gloved hand straight at avenger. "These creatures, on the other hand have been running amok in Freedom City for far too long."

Outside, the gas mask was cold and expressionless. Inside, Lukos' frown was growing that much more severe. He did not like where this was going. None of the city's most powerful heroes seemed to realize the danger that stood in front of them. Vampires were predators, through and through. Jack had told him that much. As he'd climbed the ranks of the pack, willingly or not, Jack had been telling him more and more of what a Werewolf's job really was. In addition to the basic rules of the pack there were other more strict guidelines. Lukos had been the first Wolf to ever advertise helping people. For decades they had guarded Freedom City from things that were not fit to walk in the light. Ever since Jack had taken control of the pack some ten years ago he had been rather lax. Lukos' actions had inspired him to once again take up this cause and fight for the safety of their city. As he had told Lukos, that began with eliminating the city's most dangerous predator, a species far more dangerous to men than a Lycanthrope could ever be.

On the orders of my Alpha, I am challenging Freedom City's Master Vampire. A sudden chill ran down Lukos' spine as these thoughts ran through his head. This is my duty to the pack, and I will pursue it no matter how terrified I am. I can't let him smell my fear. Lukos continued circling around the arena like a wolf stalking it's prey. His heavy boots crunched on the gravel around the arena telling of his slow methodical movement. I just hope Jack was right when he said I could win this. Still, even if I don't succeed, I can always run away to lick my wounds. Under his mask, Lukos actually smiled for once at the irony of that expression.

Flee, fight, kill, tear. Wolf was certainly willing to act.

"So, Avenger, have you no words to say in your defense? Bat got your tongue?" Lukos taunted, hoping to provoke some reaction from the somber, silent man in the suit.

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The sight of this so-called Dead Head reassembling himself was quite horrific, but Estelle could not tear her eyes away from it.

It's like watching a traffic accident in reverse. :shock:

It was some time before she realized that she'd been drinking an odious diet Coke instead of the Pepsi she'd ordered.

"Ah, hello. Anything started yet? Oh, where are my manners. Alex Maenheld, usually called Mongrel Angel. How do you do?"

Thankfully, an interuption, and Gossamer turned to face a familiar winged woman she'd met briefly at some dimly-remembered heroic encounter.

"Oh hello, I think we possibly met some months ago? It was at Providence, I believe, after that breakout. Doctor Estelle de Havilland, also known as Gossamer; a pleasure to make your re-acquaintance!" ;)

She indicated the aftermath of the fracas with a wave of golden hair.

"Well so far, the highlight has been a rather visceral R-rated assault on one Dead Head, who appears to be the lovable Casper of the zombie world."

"The name's Dynamo, I'll be your caterer for the evening. If you need anything at all, and I mean anything, don't hesitate to ask."

Under her breath, Goss playfully murmured, "Unless it's a diet Pepsi..."

Things looked to be getting rather tense between Avenger (she'd heard of him, one of the more shadowy figures of the Freedom City hero set) and this young man in 'My Bloody Valentine' garb, and Estelle found her eyes darting between the two of them. The return of young Erin (That's her name, she took me on a tour of Claremont!) also raised the intensity level of the room. With a thought, Gossamer's amazing hair flared out behind her, spreading like a pair of wings, ready to dart out in any direction if things looked a bit dicey.

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"Even if you give it a pet name, it's still a zombie," Erin said flatly, drawing her arms in closer to her chest defensively. It was that or reveal that she was nearly shaking from the urge to put a final end to the grotesque imitation of life down there on the floor. She looked with some confusion towards Lukos and Avenger, giving Avenger an extra-thorough examination. Lukos seemed to be trying to draw some parallel between Avenger and the zombie, but unless he was trying to call the man in the suit a corporate zombie or something, Erin couldn't figure out what it might be.

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Fulcrum nodded to Dead Head, "Isn't that the truth? All sorts of charities and thrift stores would just beg for some of that stuff. If you ever need a hand," she joked, grinning as Rycon picked herself up, "just give me a yell. I live over on Pelican Lane, by the aquarium."

Smiling to Rycon, she replied, "Officially, Dead Head and I have just met. Unofficially, we ran into each other a few months back. One of the old churches out west had a visiting 'angel'. Freedom Angel to be precise. We showed up about the same time to check him out." Thinking a moment, she added "I don't think we've ever been fully introduced either. I'm Fulcrum." Really they had the basics already covered, but given Rycon's nervousness, she tried to focus the young hero's attention elsewhere.

Offering her a handshake, she leaned in a little closer and whispered, "I'm pretty sure he did that. Don't worry. He seems like a joker." The comment was just loud enough for Dead Head to hear, and judging from the light tone, was meant as a compliment.

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"I think you've offended your alpha," replied Avenger, his eyes still flat like a shark's. "I think he thinks I'm going to beat you to death and send your head back as a display of my power, the way Melinda used to do when the werewolves challenged her authority in the city. You're in a more common position than you think. It's how the head dogs stay in charge. Take the strongest, the bravest of your young males, and have someone kill them for you. I imagine it's how most werewolf leaders stay in power once they start getting old. But I'm not Melinda. I'm not going to kill anyone, even a werewolf."

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Dead Head

The dropped hand spasmed and sat up, and scurried around like some blind spider. It bumped and tripped a few times as it made its way to Dead Head, and when it reached him it tapped on his foot.

The zombie appeared oblivious to all of this. Instead, his attention was split between all the assembled heroes, but especially Avenger and his gas-masked challenger (who was apparently a werewolf).

Hunh, guess the Hammer Horror flicks were right, they are natural enemies.

He turned back to Fulcrum and Rycon, "ugh, I hope that angel feller don't show up here. He's still goin' on about "puttin' me t'rest" an' "freein' me from my Earthly prison." They talk about folks risin' in th' Bible, I don't see what his problem is!"

He happened to glance down and saw his errant hand, picked it up and held it to the stump; a moment later he let go and it was seamlessly re-attached. "I may just take ya up on that offer, Fulcrum. What was that street again? Pelican Laaaaane..."

On that last word, the Revoltin' Revenant's jaw had snapped half-off, causing the syllable to drag on. Now he appeared irked by this, and tried to shove his jaw back into place.

"'uess 'e 'eat 'e 'arder 'an I 'ought... 'ol' on, I 'ust 'otta 'ap 'is 'ack in..."

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Jack's mouth set in a thin line. "Aaaaand now you're moving from 'traumatized youth' to 'petulant brat'," he told the bat wielding student flatly. "I've seen 'Head put his neck on the line time and time again for folks who'd just as soon burn him at the stake. You don't like him? Fine. Zombie issues? You're probably entitled." The swashbuckler nodded toward the undead hero. "But that 'pet name' mierda? That's not gonna fly. So suck it up, princess."

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"Well that's a damn shame." Beneath the mask Lukos set his jaw. "Because I think you'll find that I'm a hard dog to beat."

He can't mean that. Lukos told himself. He is just trying to unnerve you. Chances are its one of his strange mind powers. Ignore him. You have to do this. After all, it is for the pack.

The life of the wolf is the pack...

Tear, chase, kill. Wolf didn't seem to care either way, as long as it got its fight.

With a voice that was once again calm, Lukos spoke, "I should of course tell you. This is nothing personal. I do not hate you. I would be willing to give any Vampire the benefit of the doubt as long as they don't try to harm me and mine." Lukos shrugged helplessly, "Orders are orders."

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"Hey, asshole!" said Geckoman from behind Jack. "Two things: Wander is faster, stronger and tougher than you, you would lose and I would likely win some money from you doing so. Secondly... do you actually know the circumstances? Do you know why she is like she is? Assume makes an ass out of u and me, they always say, but I was an ass already. What's your excuse? Back off."

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Calming herself down after that last shock, Rycon whispered back to Fulcrum, "He certainly does..." Then she turns to Dead Head, saying "It was good meeting..." She cut herself off to see two masked heroes arguing over each other, Avenger and Lukos, apparently a vampire and werewolf respectively. "This could be getting ugly..." She thought, "I don't think coming here was a good idea..."

Then Rycon hears some smug jerk taunting Wander, and Geckoman trying to defend her. Seeing as she would rather not have either Claremont student (notably Geckoman) get their ass beaten before an actual match started, Rycon walked up to Geckoman, standing beside him without a word. She decided to see where this would be going before intervening.

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Erin resisted the urge to punch the smug, grinning bastard in the face, less for the insults and more for presuming he knew anything about her and where she came from. She repressed the urge, reminding herself that he wasn't worth adding to her troubles for, and covered it over with a layer of impassivity. Being distracted for a moment by the sight of the zombie's disembodied arm crawling back to the body, apparently of its own volition, didn't hurt either. The zombies she was familiar with certainly didn't do that, something for which she'd never before thought to be thankful.

Rising from her seat, she shot a quick grateful look in Chris' direction before addressing Jack of all Blades. "Thanks, Geckoman. I'm not going to fight him. I'd have to give a damn what he thought of me first. And that seems really unlikely." Giving her back to the obnoxious swordsman, she walked away to find another place to sit.

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Jack heaved a sigh as Wander stormed off, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Alright, Goggles, fair enough. You're absolutely right, I don't know, though I can assume it was significantly messed up." He also suspected the green clad teenager was absolutely right about his friend being more than the swordsman's match in terms of strength and toughness. He was less convinced when it came to speed, but it was a moot point regardless. "You don't stand for someone giving your friends grief. That's good." Folding his arms again, he continued. "I don't stand for mine being called animals." Jack may have regretted the bluntness of his words, but the sentiment remained the same. Whatever had happened to the volatile young woman, she had no right taking out her frustrations on Dead Head.

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Dead Head

The Revoltin' Revenant had kept an eye on Wander -- not literally, though he could -- and observed not only Jack's defense of him, but the green goggled kids' defense of Wander.

I really gotta find out what her problem is. Might be something I'm uniquely qualified to resolve. But... not now.

Jaw now firmly reattached, he gave a slight bow to Fulcrum and Rycon, "ladies, it seems my presence here is causin' much to big a ruckus. Think I'll go where I'm not as likely t'be assaulted by that girl what's been giving me th' stink-eye; graverobbers an' evil cultists is one thing, but hormonal teen girls is another! If'n ya see Atlas or Phantom, please send 'em my regards."

He began to amble off, waving to assorted heroes as he went. "'till we meet agaaaiiiinnnn...."

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"As thrilling as it is to watch grown men bedevil children, I think I have other business here." Avenger rose to his feet and rolled his shoulders, looking down at Lukos. "Your pack leader wants you to suffer tonight? Let's go get this over with. I'm going to change." He prowled his way down and out of the crowd, using one of the surviving restrooms to change into his costume, before disappearing completely.

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"Wouldn't even be having this conversation if it was the rotting guy talking smack about Miss All-American," Jack grumbled under his breath, annoyed by Avenger's unsolicited commentary. The swordsman rubbed the bridge of his nose and winced mightily. "Smooth, Jackie boy. This is why you're not allowed around children. Dios." Opening his eyes, he was mildly surprised to find Geckoman and Rycon still standing there. "Alright, yes, not my finest hour, thank you," he told the teenagers.

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"As thrilling as it is to watch grown men bedevil children, I think I have other business here." Avenger rose to his feet and rolled his shoulders, looking down at Lukos. "Your pack leader wants you to suffer tonight? Let's go get this over with. I'm going to change." He prowled his way down and out of the crowd, using one of the surviving restrooms to change into his costume, before disappearing completely.

"So be it," Lukos spoke through the gasmask. "Make yourself ready. When you return, be ready to name your terms. I am the challenger, so you may set the conditions in the ring."

Lukos retreated to the side of the central arena and sat by the ring. He crossed his legs and his arms and sat in silence, awaiting for the return of his opponent.

What have I gotten myself into? Jack wouldn't send me to fight Avenger with the knowledge that I would lose, would he? Unconsciously, Lukos laid his left hand on his right shoulder where the scar from Steve's betrayal still had not healed. Lukos set his jaw and prepared himself for the worst. The life of the wolf is the pack...

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Erin ignored the beginning of the next fight and kept moving, deciding against taking a seat after all when she saw the zombie leaving. Maybe nobody here saw it as any danger, but she couldn't just let it go. She needed some answers. Dropping neatly through a broken place in the stands, she slipped underneath them and followed the undead thing out of the stadium and into the never-quite-darkness of the Freedom City night. Once outside, she let him get just far enough ahead of her that he was between some buildings and out of easy sight of the stadium, then put on a burst of speed and caught up.

In a heartbeat, she was behind him, her bat drawn, but hanging back at the edge of her own range. "Hey, you," she snapped. It was weird trying to talk to one of them, but this one seemed to be able to speak, after a fashion. "I want to talk to you. Answer my questions and I'll leave you alone."

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Dead Head

The zombie stopped dead in its tracks, and slowly turned to face She Who Would Destroy Him. It drew itself to its full height -- almost half a foot taller than Wander -- and then cocked its head slightly to one side.

Finally, some answers.

"Sure thing, lil' miss," it replied, "long as you return th' favor an' answer some'a my questions. Like, just what is yer problem with me? I've been attacked plenty'a times before, but never with as much ferocity as you showed."

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Erin ignored the question, tightening her fingers on the bat till her knuckles went dead white. "What created you?" she demanded. "Was it some kind of accident, or were you made on purpose? And are there more of you?" Despite everything she'd seen and done, the creature frightened Erin in a way she couldn't quite explain. It had the rotting visage, the awkward, shambling movements, the stench, everything she was familiar with, but worse. Worse because even though she didn't want to see, it was impossible to miss the intelligence burning in the dead eyes. It was a zombie that could think, and that was terrifying.

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Dead Head

The zombie stared at Wander, with its eyes shrouded in eerie emerald-green flames. After a moment -- was it thinking? Did it think, but slower than living people? Or had what was left of its mind temporarily shut off? -- it finally answered.

"I don't know what made me," it began. "A few've looked into it, root-women an' conjure-men mostly, none of 'em could figure it out. All I know is, I was with friends at a New Year's Eve party ten years ago, when the clock struck twelve green lightnin' lashed outta my head and killed everyone, then I got up again."

He skipped over the part where he reanimated/resurrected his friends, they continued to party, until the mad Burning Man ran in and blew the house up, reducing everyone to charred skeletons.

"Dunno why, dunno how, an' if'n there's any more like me out there, I ain't met 'em. I'm pretty sure there ain't any more like me, though, since I'm the only un-dead Baron Samedi seems interested in wranglin'."

The creature folded its arms over its chest.

"Now, ya gonna answer mah question?"

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"Zombies are a threat to human beings," Erin said impatiently, as though the answer were entirely obvious. "They kill and eat people, and the only way to stop them is to take them apart until they can't anymore." She seemed entirely certain of that fact. "Some people in there are keeping an eye on you already, and they seem to think you haven't killed anybody lately. If there's only one of you and you're not running loose, then the threat is contained. But I didn't know that at the time. You didn't take any drugs or eat or drink anything at that party that might have done this, did you?"

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Dead Head

"Some do, some don't," it said in a surprisingly annoyed tone. "Some zombies kill an' eat whatever they can get their hands on; they's more properly called ghouls. Other zombies are just mindless drones, like robots, enslaved to th' will of whatever Hoodoo-man made 'em, an' are used to work on plantations an' other simple, repetitive tasks."

"An' I've never eaten anyone," it continued. "Fact is, only time I've ever even bitten something was during the Grue Invasion we just had, when one'a them big critters swallowed me up. I could hardly move around in there, bitin' was the only way I could fight back. An' the only times I've ever killed, they was unnatural undead an' had no place in this world."

Again, he omitted certain things. Like how, in his earlier, darker, grimmer days, he'd resurrected the victims of assorted crimes and let them take their vengeance on the crooks & villains. Like the funeral home director who cut every corner he could, using watered-down embalming fluids, standard one-size-fits-all coffins (and sawing off legs to make too-tall customers fit), prying off every valuable items they were to be buried with. Or the handsome young man who wooed and seduced rich older women, made them trust him and add him to their wills, then arranged for them to die in assorted "accidents." The spirits of their victims cried for vengeance, and Dead Head gave them the power to take it.

"Never done no drugs, ever, an' I didn't eat nothin' no one else had. Jes' regular party food, chips, dip, wings, lil' sammiches. Beer, 'course, an' some other hooch."

The creature shifted its stance a bit, "who made you this way, girlie? Malador hit yer family? Samedi corrupt yer friends? Or was it some hopped-up dabbler with too much power an' not enough wisdom, reckin' yer Sweet Sixteen?"

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