[center][sup][h1][color=black]Tiffany Graves [/color]
[color=8F2845]Tiffany Graves[/color][/h1][/sup]
[@PatientBean][/center]

[sup][color=a9a9a9][color=7D7080]"Mmm... the girl is still so determined. How delicioussssss...

.
                        .     ..              .                         ..                . .            .
                        .
                              .
                              .
It will make her relinquishment to it all the more s w  e   e    t."[/color]

Tiffany steps out into motel hallway, a short passage with more fire exits than rooms. One wall of the hallway opens out into an exterior atrium, at the center of which is a pool, placid waters occasionally interrupted by the burbling of submerged jets. In the back of her mind, she could feel the void in her head crawl across her brain, invading the folds and coloring her every thought.

Somewhere across the way, on an upper floor, she feels a pair of eyes on her. By the time she notices, the figure—a bald man dressed in rags—had turned and started descending a different set of stairs, heading towards the exit.

[center][h3][color=7D7080]"WELL, NOW."[/color][/h3][/center]

[color=7D7080]"whAT AN INteresting ᙅ ᖇ ᙓ ᗩ T ᙀ ᖇ ᙓ. So full of... [i]secrets.[/i]"[/color]

Before Tiffany is able to control her thoughts, a dark impulse arises.

[color=7D7080]"Follow it. Break the body, tear it open. It wants to see its insides, the intricacies of the inhuman."[/color][/color][/sup]
[hr]
[center][sup][h1][color=black]Alexander Huether [/color]
[color=F26522]Alexander Huether[/color][/h1][/sup]
[@Tally Dor][/center]

[sup][color=a9a9a9]Alexander reaches the first floor of the motel, moving down the hallway towards the entrance. He passes numerous rooms in which he can hear some sort of life—arguing, making love, wondering whether life is worth living. With each passing room, the hunger at his core begins to rise even more. There's a part of room that reckons that most of these people are forgettable, if they were ever thought about in the first place. It is a dangerous thought to have in the wake of trying to keep himself together. If he's to stave off the other side, he'll need to find a wandering animal and feed.

It's a mile's walk from the motel up north to Fortesque Street, home of the locally legendary Hopper's Bar. Twenty minutes, give or take.[/color][/sup]
[hr]
[center][sup][h1][color=black]Julie Underwood [/color]
[color=8DC73F]Julie Underwood[/color][/h1][/sup]
[@Raqueltrper][/center]

[sup][color=a9a9a9][color=olive]"The BPA goes where they're needed, Miss Underwood."[/color] Arbor snaps the cigarette case closed and slips it back into his pocket. [color=olive]"And they're always needed. Need I remind you of La Huerta, near Roswell? If it weren't for us, you'd have a large metal rod so far up your ass you'd be speaking languages only heard halfway across the galaxy. If we left it to the small agencies, like... what was it? CASS?"[/color]

Arbor takes a long drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke billow out as it scales across his face and into the cool air.

[color=olive]"There'd be no agencies left, and I don't think your father would like that his daughter caused the end of the world."[/color][/color][/sup]