“Are you in some kind of trouble?”
The Alchemist’s fingers were tapping a noticeable beat on the surface of the table. The sound of drums - the beating of two hearts - just like their father the Master. One might call it fate, someone else might call it a sick punishment.
“I suppose you could call it that…”
He found all types down here in the nightclub, some worse than others. It was a great place to pick up dinner...
But this one seemed different than all the rest, definitely off the menu.
“Anything I can do?” John wondered, having invited himself to their table.















