1963-09-20 - Fright Night
Summary: Solomon and Vorpal feel a disturbance in the force. Vampires ensue.
Related: None
Theme Song: Action Bronson - Gateway To Wizardry
solomon vorpal 

It's a quiet night in the Kitchen, which is pretty unusual all things considered. So Solomon is
taking it easy, a Dutch Master filled with marijuana between his lips, and a glass full of blood in
his right hand. Except something is off, and the large man decides to get up and head to his balcony,
looking out over this part of the city, his slice of the streets.

"The fuck is that." He grumbles, squinting off into the distance. There's a puff of misty darkness
that extends outwards, before collapsing in on itself, and when it clears Solomon is no longer there.

He does appear about a block away, glass and blunt still in tow. "Hey, who's out there?"


Certain creatures are sensitive to the supernatural and the unusual- and it is hard to find
something more unusual than a Cheshire cat. He is on his way to the Kitchen for the simple purpose
of locating Rico… but there is something in the air that makes his whiskers curl.

"Something.. is not right," he mutters. He stops dead in his tracks and tries to find a direction
from where the strange feeling is coming…


There's a disruption of darkness once more, and then Solomon is finding himself next to a cat-man.
"What the fuck is that." Right now he doesn't seem to be paying them too much attention, rather he
seems busy looking for something. Without thinking he takes a swig from his glass, a bit of blood
finding it's way onto his chin before he cleans it off and turns his gaze onto the mutant.

"You seen anything odd out this way? Other'n me, that is." The large man asks, gaze creeping back
towards the alleyway.


"Where the hell did you come from?" Keith takes a few steps away from Solomon, frowning. He
should have noticed the man, with his night vision. There was something decidedly 'off' and
decidedly strange happening.

"I've seen nothing odd. But I feel something odd." He gives Solomon a long, appraising glance. You
never knew what you would find in the Kitchen. "You out looking for odd stuff?"


ROLL: Solomon +rolls 1d20 for a result of: 3


"Warsaw." Solomon replies immediately. "Yeah, you feel that too?" His hand slips into the front
pocket of the dark hoodie he's wearing. "Whatever it is, I think it's about to find us."

Right as he finishes, there's movement within the alley. Then nothing, several moments pass before
several pale people rush out, the closest one actually leaping onto Solomon and burying his fangs
into the side of his neck, causing the glass in his hand to smash against the ground sending blood
and glass everywhere.



As the pale people come out, Keith leaps away to put some distance between them. He can't stop them

Biting into the man, what the fuck was going on here?

The Cheshire cat snarls and his claws come out, moving almost by reflex into the tiger kung-fu
stance, as he begins to backtrack.

He wished he had listened to Nova's idea about portable radios.


"You little bitch!" Solomon growls, drawing his fist from his hoodie pocket and slamming it into the
face of the man who just bit it. There's a very distinct sizzling sound as it makes contact, and
it's revealed he's brandishing a pair of brass knuckles. Then he proceeds to bare his own fangs.

The vampires rushing out the alley look confused to say the least at this revelation, and the one
who got hit looks to have lost a tooth, and is sporting thin skin where it looks to have burnt away.
But they go back on the attack, the same vampire raking his claws across the Solomon's face, and the
other one advancing towards Keith with supernatural speed.


Fangs. The man has fangs. And the metallic smell of blood from that broken bottle-

Creatures from the night, brought to light. It would be hypocritical for him to say 'vampires don't
exist', considering what *he* is…

He doesn't really have much time to think about this, though, because one of the beasts is now
rushing towards him, faster than even a cat can possibly react.

Fortunately the mind is faster than the hand. As the Vampire rushes to Keith, the Cheshire cat opens
a rabbit hole in its path, its sister opening facing the wall of the nearest building- hard, nice



One vampires finds himself running headfirst into a brick wall, the other finds the silver laced
piece of metal smashed into the bridge of his nose. The one that faced the wall looks to be
relatively unscathed, but the one going up against Solomon is looking rough.

"You see this shit?" Solomon barks, grabbing the vampire he just downed by the hair and dragging
him over to the blood and glass on the ground. "That was all I had left. Now I gotta go pick up
another bag, thanks to you." As he speaks, he's rubbing the vampire's face into the glass, "You're a
real piece of work." He drops so his knees dig into the demon's shoulders and hooks his fingers
under his throat, pulling back with all his might.


Alright, so the brick wall kiss doesn't seem to have done anything. Not good. It was clear that the
best course of action was avoid a direct hand-to-hand with creatures capable of preternatural speed.

"Okay, I need a hand here- what the heck hurts these assholes?"

As he speaks, there is a blurring of his figure. It is temporary, as eight Vorpals step away from
the center, each moving in a different direction, each with his guard up.

The real Cheshire cat is now invisible and noves very, very quietly. Can vampires detectinvisiblity?
He's about to find out.


There's a sick ripping sound as Solomon literally rips the head off of his vampire, which promptly
turns to ash. "Silver. Sunlight. Garlic. Pretty much everything you've heard." he replies, attention
shifting to where the real Vorpal is. "And we can hear the blood in your veins."

And while he does seem confused at first, the vampire facing Keith quickly indentifies where the
real cat is and makes a leap for him, only to have a gunshot ring out in the night air, which clips
him and leaves a nasty burnt hole in his jaw.

Solomon tucks his gun away and begins walking over to offer a hand. "Try taking his head or heart.
Works sometimes too."


"I seem to have left my beheading sword back at the Queen of Hearts' palace," the cat says, becoming
visible and dismissing his illusions.

They could hear the blood in his veins? So, their hearing was that sensitive, wasn't it?

"Didn't your mama teach you it's impolite to listen in?"

And the cat becomes invisible again. This time, however, he has a plan, thanks to Solomon's tip. The
sound of a roaring locomotive suddenly floods the street, loud and irritating, capped off by the
wailing horn that makes windows rattle.

If the plan works and the phantom sounds cancel out the vampires' hearing, then he can proceed and
attack the nearest one by slicing his claws across his neck and darting away- and see if anything
akin to a blood frenzy makes him into prey for the others…


As the train and whistle sound both Solomon and the vampire that was trying to attack Keith reach up
to clutch at their ears, a bit of blood trickling out from compromised eardrums. This leaves both of
them open for pretty much anything.


It was now or never- keeping the vampire stationary was important. A rabbit hole opens up under the

And it sister spawns upwards. Specifically about a mile high in the air, where it is just within the
cat's eyesight. At once, the unbearable sound ceases and the Cheshire cat stands back to see how the
vampire handles the fall.

He reaches out to tug at Solomon's elbow and to pull him away from the potential splat zone. Maybe.


ROLL: Solomon +rolls 1d20 for a result of: 12


ROLL: Solomon +rolls 1d20 for a result of: 14


Solomon is lead away slightly, managing to come to his senses, brows furrowing slightly. "How about
you warn me before you pull something like that again?" Yes he's yelling, but he also appears to be
having a hard time hearing.

The vampire that's now falling from the sky seems to be having a much harder time with things. By
the time he looks to have regained his composure enough to try something, he suffers the negative
side-effects of a very sudden stop. Bits of vampire go /everywhere/, at least until they turn into a
fine ash and drift away.


Keith is about to say something, but then realizes the issue. He sighs and he holds out a hand. A
little sign appears held by it, a la Wiley E. Coyote:

"If I had said it, they would have heard."

The element of surprise, and all that.

The splattering, however, turns out to be more than he can stand. Keith turns around after being
showered with Vampire and quickly goes over to a nearby wall to.. well. Let's just say that hairball
jokes might be appropriate, right now. It is a good thing that he's purple, or else he would be


"We all get queasy our first times." Solomon assures Keith all too loudly, before fetching the blunt
he dropped and lighting it up. "Can't believe I brought my glass out here. Should have figured
something like this was about to happen." He takes a long drag from his cigar, contemplating his
life decisions up to this moment.


Keith takes his sweet time to get his bearings back. They have gone quite a ways away, possibly
trying to leave him for another man, so it takes him a bit. He finally straightens up and takes a
deep breath.

"You're a vampire too. Why aren't you trying to neck me?" Keith says finally, making sure to over-
enunciate so his lips can be read. He's still shaken, but his natural curiosity takes precedent.


"Not quite." Solomon replies. "Something similar, but none of the downsides, aside from the blood."
He seems more worried about smoking than anything, which he does offer over. "I'm just a warlock,
really. But these are my streets, and there's only room for one of me. Especially on elevators."


"… did I just step into the wrong movie?" The cat waves the blunt away politely, "What's a
warlock? And why haven't I run into those needle-tooth basterds before… ever? And…"

He just realizes something. "… who are you again?"


"Solomon Malakoff." He introduces with a grin, a name that anybody familiar with the criminal aspect
of this part of the Kitchen in particular would pick up on. "And they're all over, usually better
hidden though." As he finishes talking, there's that poof of darkness and he's gone just as quickly
as he arrived, back on his balcolny once more.


"That is very reassuring," Keith says as that particular piece of information is relayed.

And then Solomon disappears into thin air.

"Er. I always wanted to be left alone in vampire-infested streets," he quips, looking around.

He should really get to Rico's apartmet. Pretty sure the vampires must have all been chased away by
the scuffle.


Confidently so.

"Fuck this, I'm going to the beach," he finally hisses and steps into the Rabbit Hole that just
opened for him, the sun streaming in from an Australian beach.

He can always come back when it's daytime.


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