<div class="floatleft">(http://i43.tinypic.com/2aif2na.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>Alexander Emerson</strong></span><br/><em>Murphy's Tavern<br/>Day one - Night<br/><span class="bbc_u">Tag</span>: open</em><br/><br/><br/><br/><hr/><br/>The meal had vanished with the rest of the wind, the voices, the form of thought. He cursed his waking mind, his rapid conscience, the flow of worry that wouldn't let him rest. He had spoken with the older woman for a room to sleep in, 'May?' His memory was weak. Aryanna had served him well, he tipped her five dollars, nearly forty-five percent of the bill. He was worried about her now. He couldn't stop himself. She looked exhausted in every way, and unable to hide it. He had been watching her, trying his hardest not to let the intention in his eyes turn sensual. She was blossoming, it was difficult. By the end of the night, after the identified dead, and the tension in the room; Alexander could smell something strange in the air. He wasn't sure of what had been going on in that town. But his worry was at an all time peak. His protective instincts were out of control. He had lost Dianna, and no one in town had seen her. Aryanna was the outline of his new mission.<br/><br/>He made sure to watch her as she retired for the night. If a mess were to be made in the hotel, he would like to know what room she was in. The murders had done something strange to his psyche, and after dinner he had had three whiskey-cokes. His fourth drink was half gone, dripping dew from the edge of the glass and down onto a napkin. His hand hovered near it, his eyes were on the three vampires by the fire. He was studying them, and no longer making an attempt to hide it.<br/><br/>The human had no idea what he was dealing with. They looked like three deuces in a game of poker. 'Dianna had always insisted that something was wild.' Alexander couldn't shake his sister from the focus of his thoughts.<br/><br/>Among the three suspicious characters that he was dead-set on glaring, the woman detached most of his attention. It was odd, seeing the shadowing figure of Philippe, and the blunt shining social disaster that was Grover. However, the perfect form of feminine wonder was the most unsettling factor of this crowd. She seemed to be intimidated by them. All of them were too proud. It looked like the negotiation of a business merger. 'But, that couldn't be the truth.'<br/><br/>He wanted to call their names, but he didn't. He failed to gesture their direction. His fourth drink was gone. Mr. Emerson was in no hurry to refill it. The bourbon had isolated it's affect in the center of his chest. He was buzzing with intrigue, and it felt like he'd just woken up from a long sleep.