Name: Jack ‘Jekyll’ Mason<br/>Location: Bar<br/>Tagging: Clarissa<br/><br/>____________________________<br/><br/><br/>The Lycanthrope chuckles along with the dragon, realising that she probably wasn't lying as well. Thankfully, it's pretty easy to guess that the demon was more likely to be the aggressor in the situation, as opposed to a lycanthrope and an angel in some sort of unholy, bastard union of feral beast and holy creature.<br/><br/>God forbid, Next time the Brother's fallen might send a Nymph.<br/><br/>"I shaln't lie, if you grabbed me, I'm prone to biting when I lose. Not very gentlemanly, but in the circumstances, I'm sure you understand."<br/><br/>Jack smiled a little bit, happy to take this time to know the more interesting people in this gang situation before Marc made a show of trying to unite a ragtag band of non-gang members, rebels, anarchists and general antidisestablishmentarianistic individuals. He was trying to find a common cause between; the people who hated gangs, the people who had recently left or betrayed gangs or, in some cases, simply didn't give a fuck about gangs...<br/><br/>...into one gang.<br/><br/>Jack turned back to the Dragon-ess:  Mostly ignoring the heat of the flame that was formerly the bar. Jack didn't care much, as long as a strong beer was left for the Lycanthropic monstrosity. "So what brings a High dragon, of all people, here? Don't get me wrong, if you don't feel like answering some unworthy no-name Werewolf, that's fine, but I can't help but be curious."<br/><br/>Jack had hoped that by calling himself a no-name werewolf, his real agenda might be hidden for a bit longer. It was of benefit to him really. The less people who knew him, or his name, the less people would get the bright idea to search any archives from half a century ago and learn about the less than savoury reputation he had earned himself: or more correctly, Hyde had earned for him.<br/><br/>Not that it mattered, Hyde had rather stupidly announced his name to the Highborn and when he eventually crawled out of hell and back onto the Don’s cock, Jack’s name would be known to at least his enemies. He wouldn’t be surprised if the Don put a prize on his head: did people still do that? Jack smiled to himself, feeling almost old.<br/>