Falmeriel- No, she must remember that she is<span style="font-style: italic">Fallon</span>now.<span style="font-style: italic">Fallon</span>hummed tunelessly to herself, hands in the pockets of her brown canvas knee-length overalls and a smile across her lips, as she made her way down the dimly lit linoleum of the entrance to the shelter. She stopped at the front desk and grinned at the security guard, there to prevent banned troublemakers and thieves from preying upon the less fortunate housed within. "Going all right with you, Jerry? Slow night?"<br/><br/>The plump man in his mid-forties looked up from his book and gave a smile in return. "Goin' fine, Miss Jameson. Out for another stroll? You should be careful out there. Not everyone's as nice as the folks who run this joint."<br/><br/>"Aw, you know me." She winked at him, causing him to blush a bit. "No time like night time to find those in need of a friendly ear. Say hi to the twins and Maggie for me, yes?"<br/><br/>"Of course, Miss Jameson. Good luck" As the girl walked off, the guard shook his head with a sad and knowing look in his eyes. The young lady was just too good, and one of these days he'd have to read a report of her turning up dead. But there was no dissuading her from her 'mission', as she called it, and there was no doubt she had brought in many lost souls and gotten them help with addictions and jobs. He went back to reading wondering who she would bring back this time.<br/><br/>Fallon shoved on the push bar of the steel door and stepped out into the DC night. Here, near the Hill, she knew there were both less and more opportunities to save souls, but deeper into downtown were those truly lost, and those were the ones she would aim for tonight. There was a mild chill to the air, she knew, but not enough that her overalls and T-shirt would look too out of place. Her dirty running shoes tapped down the sidewalks, and she waved at a few of the night folks she knew by name as she passed them, intent on whatever errands they were on. Having done this trip several times this week alone, she swiftly navigated the shortcuts through alleyways and parking lots, past the noisy underpasses filled with debris, and half an hour later found herself winding along beneath the larger buildings and dank pits of downtown.<br/><br/>As she passed a garbage bin with a man passed out next to it, she paused. Searching through the debris nearby revealed a filthy scrap of cloth that might have been a curtain at some point. She reflected, as she draped it over the man to ensure he would at least be warm, that she was grateful that the death of this body had removed a significant portion of her sensory capability, at least in the nose. Drunks in this state tended to have a permanent vomit-and-urine smell, and while she would be willing to wake him up and take him to get a bath and a coffee, she had had one too many experiences where the inebriated woke up violent. Better to let them sleep it off than anything else. The last police officer who had helped had kept looking at her oddly, and she had no desire to repeat the experience.<br/><br/>Satisfied that the man would not get sick or die of exposure in his sleep, she meandered off into the maze, looking for anyone who needed a helping hand. That, at least, she could do. And perhaps she would run across something other than human again. The air felt off this last couple of days, and her curiosity was beginning to get the better of her since the last time she had spotted a vampire. While repulsive, she recognized that they were not<span style="font-style: italic">inherently</span>evil so much as victims of their circumstance, and if anyone was in need of saving, it was the undead.