The Red Lion Hotel, Sacramento.

Time seemed to slow down for Praetorious as many things happened at once. The ringleader from the circus had stepped out of the elevator, immediately throwing a knife. It had missed him, but barely, scoring a gash along his cheekbone. At the same moment, he locked gazes with the pink-eyed man for far less than a second, knowing instantly that the was the presence, the thing so intrinsically related to Edo Edi Essum.

Distracted by the knife, Praetorious didn't have time to react as the man incapacitated Argyle with a swift blow to the upper neck. Interesting. The man's knowledge of anatomy seemed to rival Praetorious' own, although Praetorious would have to admit that he wouldn't have been able to use it in combat with the efficiency at which the pink-eyed man had. Praetorious' thumb rested on the syringe's plunger. His hands, and indeed all of him, was deathly still, quite unlike the way a normal human would quiver with nervous anticipation.

Knowing that, while there was a chance Praetorious was stronger and faster, the pink-eyed man certainly had more combat prowess, Praetorious took a step back, taking himself out of what he judged to be the man's immediate attack range. This way, the man would lose part of his edge in terms of finesse, and help Praetorious utilize his potential advantage in speed. His dead, black eyes locked with the man's dead pink ones.

Marnin had prepared to strike Praetorius, but the vessel had stepped backwards, just out of his range. Their eyes locked, and Marnin stepped back as well, raising the Cane and holding it back, his arm cocked like a spring. His eyes were wide, as usual, and he did not blink. He never blinked.

The man was not to be underestimated. He held a syringe in one hand, full of some unknown fluid. His free hand hung at his side, but tightened slightly, prepared to deal with that weapon. He searched the vessel's body with his peripheral vision as they stared each other down.

His expertise with accuracy was unrivaled. He could strike a moving target with unrivaled precision. Yet, he couldn't estimate how fast the man was, yet. He may miss a pressure point by a few millimeters. Not a large difference by any standards, but enough to make a significant difference. Even so, he spotted one target he knew he could hit.

"I'm not here to kill you," he said aloud. "However, I think this will likely make no difference in your attitude towards me."

The man had cocked his arm back, readying the Cane like a javelin. From what Praetorious had seen, the man had an excellent knowledge of pressure points and weaknesses. Praetorious didn't know how much his nerves still functioned, and therefore how much they would serve as weak points, but he didn't intend to find out. He took another step back, giving himself more time to react. At this distance, he judged that his chances of dodging the Cane were roughly 50%. His odds of catching it were slightly higher.

"I'm not here to kill you," the man finally spoke, "however, I think this will likely make no difference in your attitude towards me."

"Your doubts aren't unfounded," responded Praetorious, locking stares with the man. "Although I would like to know exactly what it is you intend to accomplish here. And exactly how you're related to Edo Edi Essum."

"That information cannot be revealed," said Marnin calmly, taking a single step forward. "I am here to take a sample for you; a sample of your blood, or whatever fluid it is that your body now houses. Whether it is voluntary or not."

Yet, his eyes had shifted to the side. Argyle was raising his rifle again, held in only one arm. He too had backed away, his arm straining to hold the rifle up. It wavered only slightly, yet it still wavered.

He glanced over at Praetorius, waiting for a signal. Marnin's eyes only narrowed slightly. He could dodge the bullet of course, but the prospect of that dodge taking up his attention didn't please him.

Praetorious' chances decreased by a quarter as the man stepped forward. He stepped back once more. Without moving his eyes, Praetorious noticed Argyle standing up in his peripheral vision, rifle held in one hand.

Come on, thought Praetorious, fire!

"I can't imagine why you'd want it. It's far less interesting than you might think. On the other hand, you were right before- my attitude toward you remains unchanged."

He saw the man's eyes shift slightly as he saw Argyle. Praetorious knew this was his chance. He raised his right hand, holding his right hand out in front of his torso. He imagined that the man would throw the cane at his core area, the place that was hardest to move. It also served as the best signal Praetorious could muster at the time.

Argyle fired. The rifle kicked backward uncomfortably, sending the round directly toward Marnin's left shoulder. Unfortunately, Marnin had moved as soon as Argyle's trigger finger twitched. He dropped to the ground--as well as shortening the distance between he and Praetorius by two steps--and from the floor, he launched the Cane.

It streaked upward much faster than a human should have possibly launched it, directly toward Praetorius' wounded temple with extreme precision. He didn't wait to see if it would hit; those few seconds could be used otherwise.

He pushed off the ground, and flipped his legs forward, and the ball of his foot touched the barrel of the rifle that Argyle still held. He had calculated the exact force necessary, and he pushed accordingly. He pushed himself backwards to his previous backwards, as Argyle dropped the rifle clumsily.

Argyle groaned, annoyed at his own vulnerability when he held the heavy gun with only one hand. However, the feeling had begun to return to his dominant arm.

Argyle fired his rifle, but the man had already dropped to the ground, shortening the distance by two steps. Damn. Praetorious took a step back, increasing his chances to a third, but by that point the Cane was streaking toward him. He realized in a split second that the man had aimed directly at the bullet hole in his head. His right hand shot upward, and he realized offhand that the Cane was tracing the bullet's exact trajectory. It would go all the way through the hole.

He felt the Cane sliding across his hand as it closed around it, but it was too late. He managed to halt the Cane, but not before it had gone partially into the hole, making a small amount of contact with his brain. He went down, holding the syringe above him so as not to break it. His right leg spasmed again as he tried to get up, and he fell to one knee. He watched the man kick the barrel of Argyle's gun, causing him to drop it.

Praetorious did his best to dig his left foot in the ground, knowing that his right side was once again unreliable. Shifting his weight to it, he held his right arm in front of them, keeping his left hand, which still held the syringe, at the ready. He pushed off, leaving the ground and leaping toward the man, right hand closing around his neck.

Marnin's eyes widened slightly as Praetorius' hand clamped around his neck. He hadn't expected such a quick recovery after so obviously damaging his brain from the the strike to his temple. However, he couldn't lose his focus.

His right hand clamped around the arm that held the syringe, and he clamped his neck down over his hand. The grip hurt. A lot. His muscles couldn't resist for too much longer, but half a second was all he needed.

In a flash, his own syringe was out of his pocket, pricked directly into Praetorius' neck, and zipped away just as quickly into his back pocket. He had only withdrawn an extremely small amount, almost non-existent. But any amount was enough.

Shortly afterward, Argyle's foot sailed upward into Marnin's crotch from behind. The blow would have felled a trained bodybuilding champion, but Marnin didn't even wince.

Marnin felt his trachea weakening and quickly shot his knee upward into Praetorius' solar plexus and the bundle of nerves around it.

The syringe didn't hurt as the needle entered his neck, drawing an infinitesimal amount of his blood. Even less than it would normally, he thought, considering the fact that it didn't circulate. At any rate, the man had what he wanted. But Praetorious wasn't ready to let him leave just yet. Just then, Argyle's foot impacted the man's crotch. He didn't even flinch. Who is he? Praetorious asked himself.

The man's knee collided with Praetorious' solar plexus, hitting the very edge of the hole in his chest. It forced him back, and moving with his momentum, Praetorious took his right hand away from the man's throat, grabbing the pink-eyed man's right wrist. Using his inertia, he swung the man by the wrist, slamming him into the wall.

Praetorious' eyes darted quickly to Argyle, trying to see how injured he was. If he did have any serious injuries, Praetorious couldn't tell. They'd have to wait.

Marnin grunted slightly as he was slammed into the wall, and he began to react, but Argyle had already picked up his gun and pressed it into the side of Marnin's chest. His trigger hand was moving again, but flopping around a little.

"Should I go ahead and shoot him?" Argyle asked in a low growl, pressing on the gun.

Marnin had a split second to think. Either they would try to kill him right now, or ask him his purpose. He knew if he told them his purpose, they would try to kill him anyway. Based on his previous investigation, he also suspected he wouldn't be able to lie.

His single free hand grabbed the barrel of the rifle and pressed hard on it. Argyle had expected the unnatural strength of the man, and braced for it, but still could do nothing. It blasted out of his grip and into his chest, sending him sprawling for the floor, while Marnin still gripped the rifle with his free hand.

Ciaran quickly regained control of his anger. That thrown knife would probably come back to bite him but...well fuck this day. He leaned against the wall and watched the battle take place. It was a good thing just about nobody was on this floor that didn't know the situation. He looked to his left as he heard a door creak open.

Olivia peered out of a crack of the door. A loud bang had awoken her and considering how things were going lately she was worried, and with good reason. She saw them battling that blonde man. She couldn't help, but she watched. She hoped neither of them would be hurt too badly. Then she saw the cane go through Praetorius' injury. She flinched for him, but stayed in place, knowing that if they were no match for him, she wouldn't be able to do a thing.

Ingrid pulled a handgun out of her suitcase. She couldn't really use a gun but maybe she could help if the blonde man was distracted with the other two. She peeked out, shaking a little with fear. She saw where the man was, against the wall as he pushed argyle away and ducked back inside. She was about to cry but she took a couple deep breaths and held it in. She moved back to the open space, held the gun up with one shaking arm, closed her eyes tightly and fired. She was aiming for his torso, but the bullet went towards his shoulder.

In a split second, Argyle's rifle had gone from being pressed into the man's chest to colliding with his. Another instant saw Argyle sprawling to the floor, the man holding the rifle. Interesting. Of course, the man must have known that there was no way he could maneuver the rifle to shoot Praetorious in the head before he could react. And he must know that a bullet to any other part of his body was practically futile.

His right side spasmed, his leg giving way slightly and his hand releasing its grip against Praetorious' will. Thinking fast, he used it to his advantage, using his falling momentum to pin the man by the neck to the wall with his right forearm. He pistoned his left elbow into the bend of the man's right, trying to hit a nerve, although he doubted he did.

Praetorious was dimly aware of a few spectators gathering, namely circus people and such. He saw Ingrid peering just beyond the doorway to the room. Keeping his elbow where it was, Praetorious raised his left hand. He heard a gunshot as he jabbed his needle into the man's neck. He tried to press the plunger, but it stuck for a split second.

Damn it!

A split second was all he needed. The gun was still falling through the air when Marnin's fingers whipped into Praetorius' wrist, instantly causing the hand to relax, going numb. He winced at the bullet entering his shoulder, but he paid it no heed.

Withdrawing the needle, he briefly looked over Praetorius' body. He was unbalanced with his nervous system on the fritz. With one foot, he hooked Praetorius' right leg as it spasmed slightly, and threw it out to the side. As his attacker lost his balance, he grabbed the arm that pinned him, slipped away and around to his back, jamming one hand into a nerve center on his back.

Now, he needed to escape. Argyle was on the floor, the knife thrower was doing nothing, and all that stood between him and the balcony door was Ingrid.

Ingrid saw the man look her way after taking down Praetorius and scramed. She backed up back into the room tripping over herself and falling over the bed. She curled up into a fetal position between the two beds, crying in fear. She covered her head and prayed that he didn't do anything to her. Why had she shot him? That was probably the stupidest thing she had ever done! She heard him enter and she couldn't stop herself from crying out.


As soon as the blonde man had gone into Ingrid's room Olivia rolled out of hers. She went to Praetorius first, his injuries were probably the most severe. Ciaran walked up and simply glared down at the two of them. "Tell me what you want me to do," she said to the injured men. She was mostly calm but her voice was tense with worry. She heard Ingrid cry out but she couldn't risk going inside.

((won't let me delete this one, so i'm just doing this))

Damn it! Praetorious shouted mentally as he fell. The man had shoved his fingers into Praetorious' wrist before throwing him off balance and hitting him in the spine. Praetorious wasn't really sure if it was his nerves or the man's strength that caused him to fall, but he did nonetheless. He saw that the man had been shot in the shoulder but he didn't seem to react. Praetorious hit the ground, feeling frustration.

The man stepped into the room he previously occupied, toward Ingrid, the person he assumed to be the shooter. He tried to stand, but his leg spasmed, and he fell again. Damn. The recent trauma to his brain, combined with the Cane's dark energy, had damaged his nerves severely. He kicked vainly at the air, but that certainly didn't do anything.

Suddenly, a woman in a wheelchair was beside him, as well as the circus' ringleader, the one who had thrown the knife. "Tell me what you want me to do," said the woman in the wheelchair to Praetorious. He blinked, his black eyes focusing on her. "Helping me up would be nice," he responded.

Marnin advanced through the room as Ingrid backed away, kicking the Cane back into his hand. He regarded her coldly, but objectively. He felt no anger toward her for shooting him in the shoulder; she was trying to defend her friends. However, he felt no kindness toward her either. If she had stood in his way to the balcony, he would have kicked her over it.

Instead though, he walked straight by her and threw open the doors. With a single light leap, he swept over the edge of the balcony and out of sight.

Argyle groaned on the floor. The impact to his chest shouldn't have hurt so damn much... He had the wind knocked out of him, and his whole body tingled. His mind raced... Marnin could have killed him easily. Even if he didn't the thought highly disturbed him. He was... weak.

Olivia laughed nervously. "Well I didn't know if you wanted me to try and bandange you first or anything," She bent down and hauled and reached out to take his hand when Ciaran stopped her. "oh no no. You'll not be getting any more help from us. You guys aren't worth the damage you seem to cause absolutley everywhere you go." He pushed Olivia back in her chair with his foot. She put on the break but he kept pushing anyways. Eventually she just wheeled back and around to help Argyle. Ciaran once again didn't let her pass. "Get your ass back to your room Olivia, they can help themselves."

"Oh fuck off Ciaran," Olivia responded harshly. "I can help who I want, you're just being an asshole."

"Don't argue with me bitch. I run this place, so you'll do as I say." He began to turn a little red with anger. Olivia stared up into his eyes, flipped him off and moved once again towards the men. Ciaran had finally had enough. He kicked her over wheelchair and all and she tumbled out, hitting her head against the wall and cursing.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" she screamed at him. He pinned her down with his foot and looked at her coldly.

"If you're going to insist on helping them then you better not come the hell back here." He pushed her down into the floor one more time before walking casually to his room and slamming the door. Olivia shook with anger. Pushing herself up she scooted to praetorius. She was naked again but oh well, they needed help. She positioned herself at his feet then leaning over, she took his hands and pulled him up. When he was able to sit up on his own she went to Argyle. "Are you doing alright?"

"I guess so..." he groaned. Now that his adrenalin was beginning to wear off, his body was hurting all over. What the hell had that man done to his body? He tried to sit up, but at that moment, his body exploded in aches all over. He grunted and clenched his teeth.

"I dunno what he did to me... I'm sorry... for the trouble."

He felt sick to his stomach. He hadn't been able to do anything about Muramasa, and now he couldn't do anything to the man that had attacked him. How much more useless could he get?

Praetorious couldn't help but feel an inkling of gratitude for the woman. Even after the ringleader had kicked her out of her wheelchair, she still helped him sit up, leaning him against the wall. Now, she turned to Argyle, helping him. He seemed none to happy about being incapacitated by the man. Not to say Praetorious wasn't annoyed at how easily he himself had been dispatched.

Questions filled him as he slowly inserted a finger into the hole in his head, probing gently in order to assess any damage to his brain. He didn't seem to find anything, but he knew that the Cane's energy would probably be hard to detect with just his finger. He gently pushed farther in, his long, thin finger tracing the bullet's (and cane's) path. He sighed slightly.

Who was that man? However much Edo Edi Essum might have known him, his identity remained a mystery to Praetorious. It was irritating. And now, the man had his blood, which Praetorious knew could not be a good thing. His right leg kicked accidentally, and he sighed again. He cocked an eye toward Argyle. "So," he said, "what now?"

"I lost my train of thought," was all Argyle could offer as Olivia helped him to his feet. He kept wincing in pain. "Something other than waiting around to get attacked by about fifteen different monsters would be nice. If you want me to call Bello, I can do that too."

He paused and closed his eyes slightly, thinking to himself. Even if they did find something to do about all these attacks, would use would it be? Argyle would die at any time, because he was too mortal. Praetorius could take shots to the head, Lucas could sway others with his words, and what did he have?

"But, if I don't do something about how easy I am to defeat," he said quietly. "I'm not going to live much longer. I'm only human; I need more power."

"Well if you don't mind my opinion, I'd say as a first step, call this Bello person, if he can help," Olivia suggested. She inched over to her wheelchair and set it back up. It took a bit of maneuvering and several tries but she was able to get back into it. "As for your mortality, there might be something to do about it but, I have no idea what it would be." How had she gotten to this point? Discussing mortality and immortality with two people, one of which had a bullet hole in his head and was still alive. Oh things had gotten quite out of hand. She had no job now, no place to stay. She would probably have to go to some kind of home...ugh. She was a little nauseus at the thought. Oh well though, what had to be done had to be done. She certainly couldn't tag along with Argyle and his friend, she would certainly die. Living in a home was better than dying....maybe. She sighed and bent down to pick up her blanket and tuck it back around herself. At least she had a lot of money saved up. "You can both come back to my room while I pack while you decide what to do. I'd hate to see you kill Ciaran for trying to fight you." She smiled and turned her wheelchair around, backing in between them. "You can lean on my chair if you like, we'll be like a three headed handicapped hydra."

Praetorious put on as good a smile as he could muster at the joke. He tried to stand, bracing himself against the wall, but fell again. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath, trying again. He managed to get himself in a standing position, and sort of fell in a controlled fashion, catching himself with his left hand on Olivia's wheelchair.

He looked over at Argyle, who looked ashen and winded. However, Praetorious could sense that it wasn't just being hit in the chest that troubled him. At any rate, Praetorious doubted he'd be able to help him much.

"Calling this 'Bello' might be a good idea," Praetorious said to him, "we could use some information. And perhaps weapons." He turned his head to Olivia, "I have a place to stay already, and I should be getting back to it." He looked back. "You, Argyle?"

"I had a hotel room, but nothing very much else," he said. He thought for a moment. He hated being dependent on others, but he knew he had an ally in Praetorius. And, unfortunately, Praetorius could be the only thing standing between him and death.

"Do you think it would be better to stay together?"

Then, he turned to look at Olivia, who was helping them along. He wasn't sure what to do about her. Praetorius was indifferent enough that he probably didn't care what happened to Olivia. Yet, he didn't want to leave her to die, either. She was caring, but rational, as well as worldly. Out of anyone he met these past few days, she was the one that most deserved to live.

"Do you think it would be better to stay together?"

The question caught Praetorious off guard. Considering Argyle's predicament, he couldn't very well refuse. On the other hand, Praetorious knew that he needed to kill someone tonight. The day's events required some relief. How would Argyle take that? He wondered. Probably not well, he supposed, but Argyle seemed to grasp the fact that serial killers were the least of his worries for the moment.

"Fair enough," said Praetorious. "I'll warn you that it isn't comfortable, but where I'm staying is spacious and secure. Hopefully, it'll prevent any monsters from attacking, and at least afford a decent night's sleep." Praetorious didn't mention that Argyle would be the only one sleeping- Praetorious had murdering to do. He looked down at Olivia.

"By the way, I had a motorcycle that I left near the circus, in an alley. Is there any chance that you know anything about it, or it's still there?"