Chicago By Night {Eddy X Charlie}

EDDY:
Normally the cold and detached type, it took a lot for Eddy to bring himself to care about others. He had a very binary and pragmatic view on the loss of someone’s life: Either congruent or contrary to his goals. The truth is that sometimes people die, kindred and kine alike, so why should an immortal being who strives to have no ties to the world around him fuss over something as unreliable and precarious as the wellbeing of another? Surely, if Eddy was to allow himself to care for another, this particular being would be well worth the trouble. Otherwise, why risk the emotional repercussions of a fatal circumstance visiting upon the subject of his regard?
That said, when one such person’s life was swiftly and very purposely taken and set up to look like an accident, Eddy was fucking, fucking furious. It’s difficult to interpret a gas fire resulting from a faulty pilot light and gas stove as anything but an accident. Eddy knew better though, and he was in a fucking rage. Adrenaline kept his mind off the murder long enough to steal away into the sewers before the weight of it all hit him. Eddy went into frenzy that night, screaming and gurgling and raking the brick with his finger nails. A vampiric frenzy is especially horrific when the subject possesses super human strength. The power of Eddy’s blood was in the clutches of his Beast, howling and raging beneath twilit Chicago like some freak urban legend.
Eddy survived his episode, but not without rage still in his heart. In lamentation did he make his way to an art gallery on the outskirts of town, a shifty little place where the orchestrator of the crime conducted his less-than-savory business. Eddy didn’t know where this guy was, or the one who committed the deed at his command, but he could at least cause some retributive devastation. He wanted to burn the motherfucker to the ground.
If Eddy’s face wasn’t a fucked up mess, it would have expressed a look of bewilderment as he witnessed something crawling out of a second story window on the art gallery. It looked as though…. Is that a man?! The lecherous murderous cunt is being stolen from… by a man! The irony of the situation tickled Eddy in a dark way, and so he resolved to establish himself on a nearby fire escape and observe the thief.

CHARLIE:
Charlie zipped up the gray maintenance jumpsuit he’d swiped a week prior and whistled as he climbed down his camouflaged rope. His black backpack now held a valuable marble-quartz egg the size of both his fists. Charlie smiled knowing the price he could get for such an item and knowing just who he could sell it to. The tune to “Zip-A-Dee-Do-Dah” continued to whistle through Charlie’s teeth.

EDDY:
Eddy slinked into a shadow in the alleyway near the thief. The bare prospect of engaging the man in conversation gave Eddy a pang of longing for human contact, which he hadn’t had in ages. Here in the twilight of Chicago without witnesses, Eddy couldn’t help himself. He cloaked himself with obfuscate and positioned himself where his voice would be hard to trace back to him, given the acoustics of the alleyway. He called out to the thief. His voice rasped like cinder blocks rubbing together and his chuckle wheezed in an unnatural fashion.

“Ah! By the crackity cracking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes. You look a little weary! Take a seat. Oh anywhere is fine. I’ll have Jeeves take your bags. Wait a minute... I don't recall your name being on the guest list, bub. Heheheheh."

Charlie strode victoriously into the alley. He let his whistling fade as the hairs on the back of his neck rose and his eyes pinched. He could smell something nearby—someone. However he wouldn’t let himself be irked, or give in to paranoia, so he continued through the alley with the scent becoming fainter. This settled and alarmed Charlie at the same time. He came to a sure-footed stop when he heard a voice but the shake in his shoulders gave away his surprise.

“Ah! By the crackity cracking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes. You look a little weary! Take a seat. Oh anywhere is fine. I’ll have Jeeves take your bags. Wait a minute... I don't recall your name being on the guest list, bub. Heheheheh."

The sound of the man’s voice—no, the texture—made Charlie’s jaw clench and gave him gooseflesh. The unnatural sound to it was like nothing he’d even encounter before, and as for the sex, well that was a guess due to the pitch and gender bias. A girl couldn’t sound that nightmarish, right?

As he continued to listen motionless—refusing to move out of obstinacy and pride—but Charlie couldn’t help cracking half a smile. Humor: now that was something he could deal with. The paranoia melted away as if it had only been slush on a hot day in August. Charlie felt he could turn around now and face whoever had addressed him, but Charlie found that once he turned there was no one there. Furthermore, there was no one in the alley. Taking a moment to question his sanity as his amusement turned puzzled, he glanced around the alley to no avail. The scent was still present… somewhere, and the odor it gave off was unpleasant to say the least. It reminded Charlie of the sickly sweet smell of rotted fruit; it made him give a small, involuntary shutter.

Charlie’s lips pursed, “I hear you, bud, but I can’t see you. Do you come in peace?” His eyes continuously searched the alley though Charlie had begun to figure that he wouldn’t find this sonofabitch until he moved—or wanted to be seen. Still, he was intrigued; his voice has come out sounding much more… human than his ‘host’s’ had. The southern twang colored his sound—not a lot, but just enough to be noticeable. His voice has its own rasp to it—due to smoking since he was fourteen no doubt, but Charlie’d lost the taste for it after the embrace—but it was like a kitten’s mew compared to the alien in the alley.

"Heheheh, do I come in peace? I'm not the one who crashed your dinner party, bub. You're not even on the guest list. But, no matter. We had some cancellations, so you can fit right in." Eddy was impressed that the thief wasn't scared stiff. Normally his voice alone is enough to send someone screaming. Though he'd never admit it, he was glad his scare tactic didn't work. He was having an actual conversation with somebody.

Charlie crossed his arms. All humor gone. His muscles tensed; whoever this was, he seemed to have the wrong idea. Crashed his dinner party... Charlie thought sarcastically, it worried him that his... companion was clearly not human and therefore, might assume he was a meal. He let out a short laugh at this thought, he usually hated fighting but the intrigue and irritation was getting to him.
"Wanna grab a bite?" Charlie was all smiles, but the underlying meaning was a challenge to the listener. "Why don't you come on out. I'm gettin' a little hungry myself. And, as my host, aren't you required to offer me hors d'oeuvres or somethin'?"

"How do you know I'm even here, bub? Uh oh, you might have picked up one of those psychoses where you invent someone to talk to you. Maybe you're just lonely, looking for a little companionship..." Eddy's face stretched into a disgusting toothy grin.

"Or maybe I'm right behind you, with a hatchet in my hand! Or perhaps... perhaps there's a monster inside of you, clawing at the walls of your unconsciousness. Ever stop to think that if it were given a voice, it might sound just... like... this?"

Annoyance once again took over where intrigue left off. And Charlie wasn't one for games. Boredom was beginning to replace his curiosity. He remembered the egg in his backpack as well, that was something that needed to be guarded and taken to a safe place--granted, Charlie had come prepared and packed it well so that he wouldn't have to worry about the journey.

The voice hit a nerve. The snakeskin that wrapped Charlie's torso was suddenly on his mind. It was a sore topic. He didn't give a damn what the hunger within him would sound like if it was given a voice--or so he tried to tell himself.

"Look, I'm getting a little bored with your mind games. I'm flattered that you're flirting with me but I have things to do. If you'd like to come out I'll stick around, otherwise hasta luego."

Eddy's fun was cut short when he saw three shadowy figures on the roof of the art gallery. Could Pretty Boy already be onto the thief? This guy is in some serious shit. Eddy only took a moment to weigh the pros and cons of helping the thief, only to disregard everything other than his pent up aggression. Pretty Boy would be doubly pissed off if three of his henchmen turned up with a case of the Final Death. Sure enough, the three figures leapt off the roof and began heading in the direction of the alleyway.

"Listen, bub. You don't exactly have bargaining power. In a moment three goons are coming to beat your face in and take back whatever you stole. Don't run though. Stay there long enough to let me get behind them."

"...What?"
Confused by what the voice had said and even more confused that it wanted to help him, Charlie adjusted his attention to the three "goons" that it had told him to watch out for. He didn't see anyone but he could smell them. And the voice was right, they'd be rounding the corner any second. Charlie zipped the jumpsuit all the way up, this was going to be messy. He faced the entrance of the alley, tense for the fight--though, also excited which wasn't like him. And just as surprising, he was planning to do as the voice had told him. Perhaps all this was excitement was just because he would finally have an excuse to see the voice's face.

Within moments three men came rushing around the corner and came to an awkward halt when they saw Charlie standing there staring at them with his arms crossed. Charlie pushed up his sleeve to check his Rolex, "Geez, guys, I think security might need to step it up. I've been waiting here for twenty minutes now."
The man in the back scoffed, he had dark blackish hair tied back in a ponytail and was the smallest of the three. Next to him was a shorter, muscular man with brown hair and leading the pack was the biggest of them all: a black man with muscles protruding everywhere through a simple wife-beater--even though we're into the tail end of Autumn--he reminded Charlie of a drill Sargent you'd see in some military movie.

Charlie cocked a grin, just for his new friend he said: "Welcome to the dinner party, boys. Won't you come in?"


((Are they human or vampiric?))
((Also, what are Charlie's abilities again? XD))

((Yes, they are very much vampires))
((Charlie can use Obfuscate, Celerity and Protean. Look up what they are, you'll remember it better that way))

Eddy was careful to move silently across the fire escape, as drawing attention to oneself often breaks the affects of obfuscate. As he listened as the thief taunted Pretty Boy's goons he couldn't help but grin a disgusting little grin. Eddy liked his style. His eyes narrowed, observing the three through his mask, looking to make a quick decision as he drew a hefty flashlight from his belt clip. A moment's consideration concluded that he had no choice other than to hit the skinny fucker in back first, as that would be the only way to surround the two between himself and the thief. Eddy clenched the flashlight tightly and leapt off of the fire escape.

The fall would have been more painful had Eddy not used one of the thugs to break it. He led his fall with the flashlight so the butt end of the handle would collide with his skull with a sickening meat-packing sound. Now in view, Eddy was a sight to behold, and an extremely conspicuous one at that. He was draped in a black cloak, which concealed skin-tight leather slacks and a black wife beater. He wore steel toed black boots and a black leather choker. He covered most of his face with a Magnifico mask, however that did not conceal his horrid grin and his stark white, hairless scalp, covered in strange bony protrusions.

Eddy felt the resistance of his flashlight club breaking upon the man's skull. It felt SO satisfying, and he desired more. The putrid vitae in his veins pumped with violent vigor as he used the power of his blood to achieve super human might, readying himself for a subsequent strike.

Everything seemed to move in slow-motion when a man leapt off a nearby fire escape hollering at the top of his voice with a flashlight clutched in his grasp as a weapon. Charlie was suddenly agape and the men in front of him were distracted from his presence for the time being. Could this man have been the voice? Stranger still, the man wore some type of theatrical mask. Yeah, this had to be him, Charlie concluded. He couldn't help being impressed and a little disgusted as the flashlight made contact with Ponytail's skull. The sound of metal on bone had Charlie's teeth clenching. He decided that he needed to come out of his stupor and take advantage of the element of surprise. In his back pocket there was a switch blade, Charlie grabbed it and aimed to stick it in the thug in front's stomach--but the vampire noticed and caught his arm. He retaliated with a blow across Charlie's face that sent him flying to the alley wall. Charlie rotated his jaw and tasted blood. Clearly, this fight would not be won with hand-to-hand combat.

Serg was making his way over to Charlie with something dark in his eyes. Why was it that Charlie had to deal with the baddest baddy of the three? He didn't make a habit to fight and usually avoided it in favor of some more devious way of getting what he wanted. Nevertheless he wasn't unconditioned to combat and times like these called for experience. Or an ass-kicking, y'know, whichever.

Charlie quickly shoved the knife back into his pocket in exchange for claws. He went with humanoid bear claws which most gangrel, apparently, didn't understand was the way to go. He'd had debates about this very subject with Pete. Charlie ducked quickly as a haymaker flew over his head. That's a thought for another time. The thug had left himself open so Charlie came at him quickly swiping with both clawed hands raking open wounds at the vampire's shoulder and cheekbone. The black man launched a punch squarely to Charlie's right eye that set him backward again. Charlie had to concentrate on healing where the blow had struck to keep his eye from swelling shut. In the meantime his adversary grabbed him by the shirt and lifted him off the ground.

Well fuck.

Things had taken a turn for the worst and Charlie was going to have to do exactly what he didn't want to do. The feeling was a lot like going numb and pissing out bladder stones. Charlie could feel his teeth becoming elongated, sharper; his ears were folding in on themselves. His bones were twisting and popping out of their sockets. All he wanted was for it to be over.

He had chosen a mountain lion which he hoped would have the nimbleness and speed to compensate for the great deal of strength and combat experience this thug had. That's right, bet cha never fought a wild cat before. Charlie thought a little cockily in regard to the goon's off-guard expression. Testing the waters, Charlie stalked toward the vampire who, satisfyingly, took a step back. Serg was scouring Charlie's new form hoping to find a weakness or something there. The stalking continued in a circular pattern, Charlie jolted his body toward his attacker's legs and when the vampire bent to counter the blow Charlie leapt at the target he was truly after--the sonofabitch's face.  Charlie bit down on his throat with powerful jaws as one front paw clawed his face and the other his left arm. His hind legs dug into the black man's thigh and hip. Charlie released his hold on the goon's neck to avoid ingesting any blood and instead dug his fore-paw into his adversary's collarbone and put his head directly in front of his prey's face. Charlie let out a growl and the vampire began wailing on his sides, he felt a rib crack and Charlie tried to fight down rage as he retaliated by biting the thug's upper lip and tearing it off.

The vampire began to scream now and Charlie let out a snarl that ripped its way out of his throat. He was feeling victorious and also out of control. Charlie tried not to concentrate on that in order to win this fight. The black man grabbed him by the back of the head and Charlie knew he had to think fast. He literally bit onto his face impairing the vampire's ability to see. Then the blows to his sides started up again.

The smaller guy in back laid on the ground, vitae spilling everywhere and a flashlight lodged in his skull. Bits of hair and bone were matted about the crater in his scalp. Resilient as kindred normally are, Eddy wasn't unfamiliar with the efficiency of excessive force. Ponytail was out of commission.

Eddy didn't hesitate to throw his cloak in the stocky guy's face. This was Eddy's usual tactic when things got dicey. Normally he'd enjoy a fair one-on-one but he had a life to look after. Eddy was never afraid to play dirty. The second it took for Short n' Wide to get the cloak out of his face was the moment Eddy needed to crank him across the face. It was a glancing blow, but his use of Potence made it count.

As the short guy staggered, Eddy took milliseconds to look past him and see how badly the Big Black was beating on his thief friend; he really should have seen this coming. Turns out the thief was kindred, and a Gangrel too. The thief was mid morph when Eddy decided he could probably handle himself at least for as long as he needed to take out the short guy. It was then that short guy got his bearings together. Eddy wasn't ready for the inhuman speed of his blows, and two fisted blows were swiftly delivered to his stomach and jaw. Short man then made his mistake. He went in for a decisive hook, allowing Eddy just enough time to bow his head and allow Short's fist to crunch against the bony protrusions of Eddy's scalp. He grappled Short by the back of his neck and lower back and drove his knee hard into his stomach, then slammed his head as hard as inhumanly possible into the brick wall of the alleyway.

Charlie was rapidly losing his patience, and his humanity with it. With the continuing punches to his sides, and the crack of another rib, Charlie's temper was rising. His lips curled back and his head darted forward and his massive teeth removed a chuck of flesh from Serg's neck--it took all his will-power not to eat it. This needs to end now.
Human thought was a good sign, he knew, he took a deep breath through his nose--he wasn't out of the woods yet.

Keying into Celerity, the mountain lion's powerful legs pushed himself off of the vampire and landed with grace back on the ground. The wild cat snatched up the switch blade and used its inhuman speed to launch itself back at the thug. However, Serg was too well built to budge; it didn't matter, that wasn't a part of Charlie's plan. Every part of him resisted against his will: his teeth didn't want to retract, his fur didn't want to give way to flesh, his claws weren't interested in the mundaneness of fingers. He had to fight himself in order to reattain his true form. Charlie had to burn a lot of vitae in order to perform such a feat, and use Celerity at the same time. Else, he plan would never work.

Once finally shifted back, he dropped the knife into his hand and at close range stuck it into his adversary's heart. The vampire suddenly froze and fell backward. Charlie dropped to a knee completely nude and out of breath. And he was hungry. He knew the black man wasn't dead, Pete had told him once what would happen if a vampire was staked in the heart--but he didn't care. The bastard could have bested him or, worse yet, provoked the beast. It was the best he could do with limited experience and quick thinking.

At the moment, though, Charlie could still feel the clutches of the beast. He was working hard against it, he'd come so far.

Short guy slumped to the floor of the alley, having just suffered massive head trauma. That was good enough for Eddy. Eddy looked up in time to see Big Black hit the floor like a bag of hammers, and the thief bare upon the ground, struggling. Eddy had seen the makings of vampiric frenzy before, and this fit the bill. The darker part of Eddy's mind urged him to stand and watch, see what happened to the poor son of a bitch, watch how his Beast would manifest.

Normally, Eddy might have done just that, but something compelled Eddy to act. Eddy knew exactly what this something was, and Eddy hated it. This was the first person he'd had an actual conversation or even fought alongside someone in a long, long time. For a Nosferatu, that means a hell of a lot, even if it was as brief as this five minute altercation.

A with a groan of disgust did Eddy rush to the thief and kneel before him. His pasty, spindly fingers glided over the sides of the man's head as Eddy brought their foreheads to touch. Eddy closed his eyes as his physical senses washed away; his baser form, his Beast, reached out to touch that of his comrade. He felt his comrade's Beast raging in it's spiritual cage, howling with hunger and blood lust. The frenzy was almost upon him when Eddy's Beast was able to steal away some of the fury that gripped his friend.

Fingers. Fingers. Left hand. Dirt. The smell of dirt appealed more to the beast than it did to Charlie; he switched up his strategy. Adela. Mom. Dad. Thinking of his dad washed a touch of anger back into Charlie. His body was trembling, it's desire to shift head-to-head with Charlie's struggle for control.

Suddenly there were hands on his skull. An inhuman defensive growl left him and he could feel the beast's rage rising. Charlie was beginning to panic. Notagainnotagainnotagainnotagainnotagainnotagainnotagainnotagainnotagainnotagainnotagainnotagainnotagainnotagainnotagainnotagain.

He felt something very cool--like a stone--pressed to his forehead, but Charlie didn't look up. His eyes were squeezed shut in concentration. Abruptly, he felt something that felt like being choked from the inside. Charlie continued breathing heavy--a sign that he was still new to the embrace, but also secretly a security blanket--and realized that whatever he was feeling was choking back the beast. Charlie felt excited--oddly, the emotion was a little out of place. His eyes flew open as he began to feel more like himself and more in control of his beast. He helped the feeling push the beast back and sighed in relief when it was over. His head came up and he was startled to see the guy so close. He nearly jumped. He hadn't realized it had been a "living" being pressed against his forehead--but then he hadn't been paying much attention to his senses. This was the first time he had seen the voice up close. He was more fascinated than disturbed.

Pete had told him of a race of vampire that lived beneath the city--Charlie had never fully understood. After all, how could you live beneath a city? And so, not surprisingly he'd never seen a... a...Vosfaratu... before. Pete had given him specific instruction as to what to do, what to say, what not to say to a Vost--one of him. But Charlie cast it all aside--half because he couldn't remember for the life of him but also because who gave a flying fuck? The guy had just saved his life... three? times tonight. He couldn't be all bad.

"Thank you." Charlie's voice was rough, like he'd been in the desert too long without water. "But why did you chose to help me? You could have left when you saw them coming, it was me they were after, but you fought them off. You could have left after they were... disposed of." Charlie cracked a small smile at his failure to find the right word. "You stayed to help me... you some kind of guardian angel or something?"

"Bahahaha! HA!... HAHA!!" Eddy could help his strange, broken laughter. The idea of him being a "guardian angel" tickled his dark sense of humor. "I'm as much a guardian angel as I look, bub.
Eddy appeared significantly more alien up close. His skin was pasty white, leathery, yet tight to his skeletal features, causing his cheeks to be abnormally concave. His eyes were sunken into his skull and glossed over as though he were blind. His jaw had irregular bony ridges running throughout, and his ears were long and pointed like an elf. His left ear was fused to the side of his head. Eddy didn't have fangs, per se; they were more like several gnarled, overgrown teeth, most of which could perform the job kindred need them to.

“What? Never seen a Nos before, bub?”

Just then, the shorter thug made a break for it. Using superhuman speed, he escaped before anyone could react.

“Damn it! Oh we’re in some shit now, bub."

“What? Never seen a Nos before, bub?”

Charlie's face went blank, but just as he was about to form the word, "Nos?" One of the thugs abruptly sprinted from the alley.

“Damn it! Oh we’re in some shit now, bub."

This whole "Bub" thing was beginning to get on his nerves. "Please stop calling me bub. I've got a name, how about you?" Charlie pushed his hair of out his eyes. "Two things: one, I'm Charlie. Two, we don't have a problem if I chase that fucker down, do we?" Charlie wasn't exactly looking forward to shifting again but he felt in control enough to deal with himself if he did.

"Oh yeah... and we gotta do somethin' about him." He nodded toward the black thug in torpor.

Eddy lightly shoved Charlie into sitting on a rusted old heater, rather than inviting him to sit. "Ohhhh no no no no, he's headed to Berk Square. Everyone's piss drunk so it's crawling with cops. Don't tangle with him there. Best let 'im go." Eddy plopped down on the floor, sitting against a dumpster. His head hurt thinking about everything that's happened tonight: his one friend in the world was killed and here he is sticking his neck out for some ratty ass Gangrel.... even if he was growing on him a little. Damn it! I'm getting soft

"Sparks. Eddy Sparks. Eddy's fine." he said begrudgingly. "And what I plan to do to this guy is give him a case of the Final Death so I can mail the big guy his ashes. I'm not fucking around." The fingers on Eddy's left hand found their way around his lead pipe and tightened into a tense grip. His blank, alien eyes stared through the other side of the alleyway and into outer space as his head filled with violent fantasies. His stare abruptly snapped toward Charlie. "And you better quit fucking around too. I won't be there next time to save your goofy ass, bub." But he did want to be there next time. It felt fulfilling to fight on someone's side. His gaze lazily swayed away from Charlie. "Shit's about to get real heated in and around Chicago."

Charlie felt his body being pushed needlessly backward and felt slightly jarred with annoyance. He didn't like being forced to do something or not to do something. As soon as his ass made contact with something flaky and covered in dirt Charlie stood. He dusted his bare body off and made for his backpack and clothes. Eddy wasn't looking his way anyway--though, Charlie wasn't sure he'd care if the vampire did see him naked. His mind flashed back to the fight in the warehouse:

After it was all over everyone was stepping over vitae and corpses. Those who'd survived were naked, all of us, male and female all the same and no one seemed to be taking any notice of the fact. Any Ravnos left behind were either killed on the spot or taken as a kind of prisoner if it was thought they could be useful. Clothing was slowly starting to be adorned as it was found--or taken off the dead. There was no rush to get out of the warehouse which felt wrong to Charlie. He wanted to get out of the warehouse. Now. Instead, Carter placed a heavy hand on his shoulder and congratulated him; he told him how pleased he was now that Charlie was officially one of them. Charlie hadn't heard the words. His eyes fixed on a thick stripe of snakeskin in the place where flesh used to be. The only sounds Charlie did hear were a dull hum--like being underwater--and a ringing. He never wanted to fight again.

The only reason he hadn't lost control in this fight was because of Eddy. Charlie grit his teeth, he knew it was bad news to owe a debt to a vampire--not that Charlie was fond of any kind of debts. He needed to learn more control; apparently fighting was not something he could always escape.

"And you better quit fucking around too. I won't be there next time to save your goofy ass, bub."

Charlie rolled his eyes, he wasn't overly fond of having things rubbed in his face. But he was hiding his agitation well.

"Shit's about to get real heated in and around Chicago."

Without trying, Charlie's tone sounded bored: "What are you talking about?"

Eddy sensed Charlie's bored attitude toward the whole thing, but he humored himself anyway

"'Cause I'm in a fuckin rage, bub. Those self righteous Camarilla stiffs and their dogs move in wherever they please and take whatever they want in the name of justice. Bunch of fuckin thugs if you ask me. I didn't follow one of their little rules and now they want my ashes. As if burning all I had left to the ground wasn't enough."

Eddy's hollow eyes focused on something that wasn't there. He saw that fire again, heard the windows shatter from the heat, felt the burning in his stomach and throat.

"It's blood for blood, now. They won't stop until I'm ashes, and neither will I."

Eddy came back to the present and considered Charlie for a moment.

"They'll come for you too, bub. Might wanna skip town. Things are gonna get ugly."

He cackled at his own dark humor.

Eddy's eyes suddenly got a far away look in them.

Charlie looked up and sighed. He still didn't know what to think of Eddy: he'd come to his rescue but clearly--to Charlie--couldn't be trusted worth a damn. There was something in the works in that vampire's mind and it didn't seem like Eddy was willing to come out with it. Secrets made Charlie's skin crawl.

Despite all that, Charlie didn't want him dying--er, murdered. He was interested to see where this "friendship" was going. As much as Charlie wanted to help the poor schmuck he wasn't willing to get into another fight. Charlie's talents did not lie in combat. He was good at strategy and mind games--indirect forms of warfare. Coming up with a bad ass plan sounded much more Charlie's style; forcing his enemies into a corner after carefully sorting out the details and calculating their moves. It was a game of mental chess. And Charleston was good at it.

"They'll come for you too, bub. Might wanna skip town. Things are gonna get ugly."

Charlie's face dropped to give Eddy a level look while he laughed. His tone sober: "I'm not leaving my city."

Eddy caught a look of determination in the Gangrel's eye. Determined, but soft. Far too soft.

"Stickin' around for the fireworks, are ya bub?" he chuckled. "You won't exactly be kicking back with a bucket o' popcorn, ya know. Camie's use some real pipe-hittin' kindred when they want a problem taken care of. You and me, we're the problem. Ever heard of the Killer B? Even I don't want to tangle with that lunatic."

Eddy scratched his bald head. "Was bound to happen eventually. Messed with the wrong vato, bub."

"I don't give a damn about your Camarilla, "Killer B", or anything else for that matter. And nothing is going to get me out of my city--ya got that?"
Charlie scooped up the backpack, it hung over one shoulder.

"Thanks for all your help but if I needed a lecture on how to live my life I'd go back home to my mother."

He turned down the alley, the way he'd come in, and walked away from Eddy. He raised his fingers in a kind of backward salute. "Take care." And Charlie really hoped he did, but Eddy was pissing him off way to much with the you-need-to-do-this crap for Charlie to stick around to make sure.

Eddy frowned. He was beginning to like this guy, and now he was fairly certain he was going to die. How did that phrase go? 'Never spite a Ventrue. Never shame a Toreador and.... Never ignore a Nosferatu."

"So long, bub."

Eddy shrouded himself in shadow and disappeared from sight. The night was still young and he felt the need to draw the blood of the guilty just once more before sunrise. Maybe it'd be worth it to keep an eye on the Gangrel neonate in the nights to come. Maybe not.

Charlie has just made it out of the alley and out of sight of the other vampire when a rattling noise from behind caught his attention.

"Please be fucking kidding me." Charlie murmured.
Behind him was a new mob of vampires and by the looks of them, they didn't want to be friends: one held a crowbar, a glint of silver told Charlie that another one had knives, and the rattling Charlie heard was a heavy, rusted chain.

Keying into celerity, Charlie booked it down the next alley and stood up against the wall. He used his breathing trick to obfuscate himself--he didn't know how long he'd be able to hold his illusion up so low on vitae. Before the other vampires showed up in the alley: "Uh, hey, Eddy?"