<div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;">----Elsworth Bateman: Glutton----</span></div><br/>Seattle, Washington.  The Emerald City.  Elsworth had smiled shakily back at<strong>James</strong>and then at the wary face of<strong>Cassandra</strong>, a half-hearted attempt to quell their suspicion and show his thanks.  It felt as though a dream-like torpor had settled into his limbs, weighing both body and mind with heavy stones.  But this was no dream, no Oz.  It was a harsh reality, and becoming more real, more<em>dangerous</em>with every passing moment.  He could not sense such things as certain other curious individuals might, but one glance at Lady D'Arque made that much certain.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"James, we need to go. Now," she said. <br/><br/>Cassandra looked at Bateman, expression turning calculating and thoughtful for a moment. "You might want to get out of here too."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;">"Yes, I do believe that I might,"</span>he said, glancing nervously backwards before resuming his brisk pace.<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;">"Do you hear that thrumming overhead?  A helicopter, perhaps?"</span><br/><br/>The man kept a respectable distance away from Cassandra and her men, allowing them to provide her with a protective shield of meat and kevlar while refusing to stray too far.  He couldn't be certain as to what was happening, but he could hazard a guess.  It certainly wasn't the first time he'd been spotted and recognized, but he was generally observant enough to avoid such confrontations.  The Hunger was playing tricks with his mind, weakening his senses.  Regular food just didn't cut it anymore.  His palette required something more substantial.  More<em>iron</em>, and maybe a little<em>steel</em>for good measure.<br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;">"I hate to impose, but I think we'll be continuing in parallel for a time,"</span>he offered somewhat apologetically.  Bateman hardly expected the woman to give him a ride, but at the very least she seemed to know where the nearest exit was.