[center][h3]Filia – Mahora Grounds[/h3][/center]

For a moment, Filia looked crestfallen.  [i]Wrong again.[/i]  At this rate, she'd never find someone who'd be able to shed some light on her past.  Her attention quickly locked on the girl's motorcycle, however, when it began to [i]speak[/i].  Though no stranger to unusual occurrences by now, she stood for a moment regardless, taken aback by the sight.  A few quiet moments passed before the amnesiac found her voice, and when she did, it came out a little squeakier than usual.  “A talking motorcycle!”  Her expression of shock melted into one of amusement.  “Wow!  Cool!  Is it a living weapon?  Is..he, rather?”

Compared to a sentient motorbike, however, the next surprise to flutter Filia's way took the weirdness cake, hands-down.  From all angles, it appeared to be a little horse, with fur a garish and freakish shade of purple and wings.  Even more ludicrously, this nightmarish creature began to talk as well.  Filia couldn't help but take a step back, finding small reassurance in the feeling that Samson was just as confounded as she.  “My God!  Um...sorry.  I just...this is peculiar even for me.  Didn't mean to, um, offend you.”

A moment later, a door appeared in the ground where before there had been none.  It slammed open, and from it strode forth an absolutely gargantuan man, besuited and disguised by a paper bag.  This time, Filia jumped, grabbing a lock of her hair reflexively.  Samson grunted in annoyance, and whispered to her to take a few steps back.  [b]”If any of these freakshows are dangerous, we might be in for a rough time.”[/b]  Filia complied, moving out of scalpel range, and watched, speechless, as Faust berated a masked, axe-wielding man she'd not previously noticed for inflicting harm upon himself.  What in the world was going on?

As nobody spoke, the tension and awkwardness mounted.  Ultimately, despite her befuddlement and fear, Filia decided that she'd be the one to break the ice.  Laughing nervously, she piped up, “Well, uh, it looks like I'm not the only one who's totally lost.  I think...a round of introductions would be great!  My name is Filia.  I have amnesia.”

Beneath the hat, Samson snickered.  [b]”Real smooth, kid,”[/b] he snarked, too quietly for all but the most acute listeners to hear.

[center][h3][b][color=yellow]DIO – The Hive[/color][/b][/h3][/center]

Leaving the bar in his wake, DIO continued on his search for a likely target.  Though he said nothing and made no sudden movements, he nevertheless drew the attention of anyone who passed near him or happened to catch a glimpse of him.  And how could he not?  Every movement he made, whether slight mannerism or normal action, was charged with power.  The race, sex, species, or personality of the bystanders didn't matter, for DIO's presence radiated magnetically, washing over all like a wave of power and majesty.  One did not have to analyze DIO to find him mighty, beautiful, and superior; those traits could simply be felt.  Like glory from the skin of some divine being they shone from him, a beacon of profound strength and grace amid the squalor and sin of this slum.  The vampire did not so much as have to speak to accumulate a small but fascinated contingency of pedestrians following him, utterly enthralled by his splendor but not yet able to approach too closely.  For now, these trail of people went ignored by DIO, who continued his stately stroll until he'd left the worst part of the slum behind.  Such deplorable conditions, after all, were truly unworthy of the existence of DIO.

A building on the corner, nestled between two streets and two tenements: a hotel.  Compared to the abject rot of the place he'd been not so long ago, this edifice was satisfactory.  DIO approached the doors with absolute ease, displaying the careful grace of a divine being holding back his strength to avoid cracking the ground with every step.  With a grip almost teasingly light, DIO twisted the brass knob, pushed the door open, and sauntered in.  The crowd behind him, now almost twenty people, grew indecisive.  Some remained outside, terrified of intruding on this incredible man's no-doubt important business, but some intrepid men and women followed DIO inside.  The vampire was leaning on the front desk, a terrific smile on his features.  In front of him, the lady couldn't keep herself from blushing, and found herself unable to speak.  By now, the general hubbub of hotel patrons had died completely, but enough of it had crossed DIO's years while he was coming in to inform him that the primary language here was English.  Slowly, tantalizingly, DIO began to speak.  [color=yellow]”I'm looking for a room,”[/color] said he.  [color=yellow]”Would you be a darling for me and show me to the penthouse suite?”[/color]

Giggling, the lady walked out from behind the counter and began toward the elevator.  Now, DIO cast a glance at his inexplicable retinue.  [color=yellow]”It would be my pleasure to invite all of you up to the suite with me.  I have gifts I wish to share, you see, and you all seem very deserving.”[/color]  Most of the people that had followed him from the slums needed no further invitation.  A few of the hotel guests, entranced by the generosity and kindness of this stranger, even left what they were doing, abandoning coffee, newspapers, and even family members, to follow DIO.