<div class="floatleft">(http://i1264.photobucket.com/albums/jj499/MzHyde/UmbrellaSmall1_zpsa6c08b10.png)</div><strong>Jack The Ripper</strong><br/><strong>Union HQ, Level 1</strong><br/><br/>"Well, well, 'ave a butcher's at this bloody place. Posh, in'it?"<br/><br/>Jack's voice came from the entryway, smooth and feminine with a bit of a cockney accent. Rather unfitting of a half-vampire serial killer. Disarming, almost. Then again, perhaps that was the point. She was leaning on her umbrella, eyes roaming the well appointed interior of the Union HQ. "They certainly weren't talkin' porkies when they said they'd take care of us," said the vampire, strolling past the other occupants, up to the shelves that contained books. She started looking at them, reading aloud the titles, then dropping or tossing them over her shoulder one by one.<br/><br/>"Read it. Read it. Read it. Read it. Read it. Boring. Read it. Author's a tosser. Read it. Killed that guy - vampire. Read it..."<br/><br/>Jack whirled on her heel, spinning to face the others, a grin on her lips, "Awful lot of time to read when yer bloomin' a hundred years old, strewth. Anything 'round here for a bit of a nosh?"<br/><br/>