<div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;">----Elsworth Bateman: Glutton----</span></div><br/><div class="floatright">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v296/rcburner/Characters/Stolid3-1.jpg)</div><br/>Over the fleeting years of his newfound existence, Bateman had come to appreciate the little things in life.  All the seemingly insignificant distractions, the minute details, the discarded fragments of daily living that went unnoticed or unheeded by everybody but him.  The distinct crackle of tires sluggishly crawling on pavement, the distant tremor of the subway far beneath his tattered shoes, the amateurish melody of a violin drifting from nearby apartment complexes, the ugly smells that wafted up from the gutters and clawed at the nose, and the noxious beauty of crude oil as it send swirls of metallic colour over the sidewalk.  Little things, many of them annoying or grotesque, that momentarily served to set his mind at ease.  Once the constant disturbances began to disappear, that roiling beast in his gullet would begin to groan and tear desperately at his innards, the Hunger that drove him to greater and greater depths of depravity in order to be satiated.<br/><br/>But no matter how hard he tried to suppress it, that unbearable look of starvation infected his every pore.  Bateman was not an unnattractive person, having preserved his boyish features late into his twenties and cultivated a head of luxurious blonde hair that gave him the appearance of a tortured artist or fashion designer.  Handsome though he was, the face was marred by the deep shadows that clung beneath his graying eyes, the severity of his cheekbones, the sunken flesh along his jaw.  Life had not been kind to this man, and he doubted that that would ever change.  On some level, he didn't want it to.  Not until he had properly atoned for the horror he had unleashed that fateful, awful day.<br/><br/>He was chewing on a stick of beef jerky as he passed by the boutique from which one<strong>Cassandra D'Arque</strong>and<strong>James Black</strong>, along with several other intimidating men doing their very best to look inconspicuous.  The meat melted in his mouth almost immediately, tasteless and unsatisfying.  He stared past the small group at the store, only then realizing where he was--a mall, and a rather lovely one at that.  His mind buzzing with fatigue, he had scarcely noticed the transition from street to building, let alone what state the building was in.  It was like walking through a dream, arriving at strange and foreign destinations without any idea as to how one had gotten there in the first place.<br/><br/>Despite the warning signals his common sense was blaring at him, Bateman hurried his pace to keep up with<strong>James</strong>, forcing a haggard and apologetic smile.  "<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;">Terribly sorry to bother you with such an unusual question, sir, but if you could be so kind--what city is this, exactly?</span>"<br/><br/>