Acco Underground

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Dark alleyways, secluded neighborhoods, babies wailing in the distance, eviction notices, condemned buildings. Breath in. You smell that? That's the smell of failure, crime, and despair. Also hobo urine. ...don't step in that puddle. And he'll just spend it on drugs, don't give him anything.

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Day 1

Squealer almost angrily flung the can across the alley when it wasn't as good as he thought it was... although he gimped across to get it. Today hadn't been a good day. First the alley, and then that pixie-bastard... "Not goods day atall," he muttered to himself, shoving the can in the small plastic bag he carried. He could sell it later. Maybe even eat today.

"Listen, boy, I'm not a hooker; I don't kiss and tell." Squealer heard the professional sound of high heels clicking down the street, and hid. He recognized the voice: she was a social worker who did a lot of her job in this area. She usually tried to 'help' him, but they both knew he was beyond it.

"Just answer the question." There was a quiet yelp and Squealer poked his head out to see. A guy in a suit had pushed the pretty woman up against a brick wall, snarling right into her face. He was obviously an orc, and she was scared. "Where have you seen this tattoo before?"

There was only so much she could take before she spilled. "The-the back of some guy... a vampire. I don't remember his name, E-something. I remember he told me it means 'red.' It was just a one-night thing, I swear to god I can't remember him." The orc released her and she fell to her knees, very much shaken, watching him as he walked off to get in the shiny black BMW waiting just down the road.

Flynn was looking for Squealer. It was something he wouldn't want to do on a normal basis, but he hadn't been at the Rusty Nail last night had heard through the grape vine that there had been another death. He figured his best bet to get details was questioning the little creeper. 

Having done business with Squealer before Flynn general knew where Squealer hung around. Coming around the corner he saw the little wanker pushed up against a wall suspiciously. Grinning wickedly, he popped out of sight and then reappeared right next to him out of thin air. "And what dubious deed as you pressed so shiftily in the shadows this early in the mornin', Squealer?" Flynn drawled quietly, not having noticed the woman or the orc.

Squealer hissed, pressing himself up against the wall further, like it would open up and let him disappear. People had been getting less generous with asking for information lately, and more violent. Easier to beat it out than just ask; his shirt hid evidence of that. "No is dubious," he whined. "Squealer is just collectings canses."

"Riiiight..." He said with an eye roll as he leaned back against the wall and folded his arms, "Okay, here's the deal. I've got a twenty dollar bill and a bottle of five year old elfin whiskey that says you're gonna tell me what you know about what happened at the Nail last night. And I mean everything. No leaving out details, 'cos I'll know if your lyin'."

Still crouching, Squealer eyed Flynn suspiciously with the good eye. "T-t-twilights," he hissed. "I saws him. Big man, cut the necks of the guy with spiderweb. He didn't waits for hims to die, stab-bed paper on chest. Fell a littles, then walked off. He looked arounds for Squealer but Squealer good at hiding. Trys to help guy, I dids, but he dieds too soon." Squealer looked down at his hands, where some dried blood remained with all the grime under his nails. "Couldn'ts stay with deads, might think Squealer did it."

Flynn drummed the fingers of his left hand against his lips thoughtfully, "What do you mean he cut the guys' neck with a spider web? Was it part of him or did it look like a magical item?"

Squealer shook his head, but it wasn't to disagree. "No knows. He showed up too soon, not humans-like. I saws flash of thin thread that dug into neck-flesh." He shuffled on his feet, eyeing Flynn disagreeably. "Do I gets twenty now?"

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_{perfect bounty}