Off to Chekhov's

Kanen slowly rolled his neck, standing up from his chair as he prepared his gloves, flicking the radio off as he did. Throughout the entire mistakenly communicated radio message, he had been calmly sipping his tea, at most turning a thoughtful ear to the radio so he didn't miss anything. "Chekhov's shopping centre…a little on the point, isn't it?," he thought as he finished his tea and pushed in his chair as well.

"No, Ms. Rondo, you are not crazy. But our services are apparently needed somewhere," he said, rolling his neck. "And I'm not very bitter or sour about the whole thing with being rejected from stuff like the military, so don't feel so nervous about it. It's something I've come to accept," he said calmly. "Life's gotten easier, actually, as life has come on. Being anonymous online makes it easier to do things. Like run a company or buy hospitals."

"Anyways, I'm not the most familiar with this area, and it's best we move quickly if we want to stop the…I assume lizard people at least. I'll be trusting you to lead the way, Ms. Rondo," he said, bowing slightly as he fixed his hat, veil, and sun-brella.

"Oh, one moment, I'll clean this all up," he said, taking advantage of his vampiric nature to…well, household-clean in 10 seconds. In a few blinks of an eye, the dishes were soaking in the sink, the table had been wiped, and any appliances that had been used (namely the tea kettle) had been replaced to their original spot.

"Now, Ms. Rondo, shall we be on our way?" he asked, drying his hands with a towel as he picked up his sun-brella again. "We have until noon," he continued, idly checking the time.

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