All around town fliers were being passed out. The font only legible to those of a supernatural origin:



One lone bouncer stood outside the door to the S.S. Bar. Taking notice of all that entered and occasional denying a patron entrance. His thick Jamaican accent was hard to decipher but he made it quite clear that any questions should be addressed to the bartender. The inside opened to a large and lavish bar. The work of magic was obvious with the size of the room almost double what it appeared to be outside. The bar was strangely empty, except for the nightly barflies. News of the owners newest power struggle with the ever turning machine of the technocracy reached the residents of the city and dwindled business. The bartender was a short man of french decent. He was dressed sharp with a three piece suit and wore a pungent cologne that turned the nose of even the most stout nosferatu. He nose was crooked and turned up at the tip and he eyes narrowed inspecting each and ever customer that entered.

Alone Daniel Phillis sat in his normal corner of his favorite bar, slowly sipping his gin and tonic. Having heard of rumors that their are flyers being passed out that only some can read he mumbles "Curious" to himself. After finishing his drink he gets up to leave and feels an eerie presence upon himself, like someone was watching him. Fumbling into the street, he begins heading home when he hears an almost whisper loud footstep. "Hello...?" he says as he turn around, no ones there. Turning back he catches a glimpse of a shadowy figure turn a corner no more than 10 feet in front of him. "Hey!" he yells as he instills chase. After getting to the corner he sees them dash around another corner down a back ally. As he rounded the second corner he catches sight of some feet behind a trash can. Walking over to them he notices the person is male and looks to be in really bad shape. Extremely pale, barely breathing and are bleeding slightly from the mouth. "Are you ok? What happened?" Daniel inquires. The gentleman motions to lean down as if he wants to tell someone his deepest darkest secret before he dies. Daniel leans down and notices his hand starts to move toward him. Extending his own hand Daniel notices the gentlemans face changes slightly. His hand lunges forward and grabs the back of daniels neck and pulls him in close. too close... "I cant move!" thinks Daniel. Glancing into his eyes and they grow pale with delight.... Did his teeth get bigger? Feeling a very light penetrating sensation upon his neck the world goes black.
After awaking Daniel notices its 9:49pm. The world feels different somehow, changed... Its colder than usual. Quickly coming to his senses Daniel checks his pockets to make sure the guy hasn't stolen anything from him. To his surprise he hasn't taken anything but actually left something. A note? no. A flyer? whats it say? Not quite make it out he notices an address 112 1/2 Beacon Street. Wanting to get to the bottom of this and not feeling remotely tired he begins to head that way...

>16:33 02-02-2002
>Welcome to the 1st National Bank of Boston...
>Enter Account Number When Ready_

The terminal blinked before him shining a green aura on everything in the small office. "Come on now baby. Part your knees and let me at that treasure you got locked away." Joked the young man in the gray jumpsuit as he executed a series of key commands. "You know who I am baby. You know you want it." A smooth talker to be sure, Mike had more on his mind than computerized sexual innuendo. 6 months ago, Boston 1st National was contracted to keep safe a case of very important documents. Mike had intercepted the email about the account as he was trolling for ATM passwords and decided it was finally time to up his game from part time account fraud to full time thievery. The task seemed daunting at first, but it all fell into place when he saw that the cleaning company the bank employed to do their weekend cleaning was hiring.

>16:33 02-02-2002
>Welcome to the 1st National Bank of Boston...
>Enter Account Number When Ready_
~ *** **** ** 8519

The computer terminal chimed in agreement as the account number was accepted. "That a girl." He said as he gathered his tools and headed for the now opening security doors heading into the antiquities vault. "Enjoy your naps ladies and gentlemen." He whispered as he passed by the subdued bodies laying on the bank floor. Mike was a master of gadgetry and computer systems, but had never turned to wetwork in the past, but this time could be different if any of the cleaning crew he had knocked out and tied up awoke before he was ready to leave. He tightened the gloves on his hands as he descended the stairs and into the vault.

Mike stood in the opening to the vault for a moment in a slackjawed stare as he looked over all the priceless possessions that people had hidden away where criminals and prying eyes could never venture...until now. "You're on a mission. You're on a mission." He repeated over and over again as he passed by the expensive art and antiquities and approached his prize. A seemingly nondescript case marked with the account number sat in a locked cell seperating it from the other precious valuables. "Strange," he thought as he pulled his lock picks from his pack. "This thing must be worth a lot to warrant this extra security."

As the picks began to slide inside the lock, Mike stopped. "Calling...car....first....bank..." A voice whispered in his mind like static on a TV. "What the heck?" He said aloud as the lock popped open. Taking a moment to look back and forth around the room Mike narrowed his eyes in thought. A low groan escaped his lips as he began to dislike the setting he had made for himself. Throwing the door wide he grabbed the bag and ran out of the vault. "Something is wrong. I don't know what, but something is out of place."

As Mike crested the top of the stairs he saw that all of the cleaners were still where he had left them, giving him a little confidence boost. Mike began moving to the rear exit where he had left the cleaning van when he was overcome with the sound of one word echoing through his head. "Run...now." Not taking the time to question it, the thief ran as fast as he could and dove towards the back door.

As Mike's face hit the cold air outside he heard the sound of voices shouting and sirens filling the air. Passing by the van and heading down another alley he dove into a storm drain behind a dumpster and filled the gap behind him with bags of trash. From behind the garbage he tried to slow his breathing and calm down in case he needed to make a run for it. "What the fuck was that? There is no way that they should have been able to detect me. The cameras were offline. I bypassed the security with my passwords." Mike screamed to himself in his mind. "What happened?"

A voice penetrated his mind again making his eyes widen. "Would you like me to tell you?"

Damien walked out from a back room and looked around at the patrons. His boots strangely made no sound as he strode across the bar and to an empty table towards the back. He motioned towards Gustav, the bartender, and crossed his arms looking towards the entrance. Gustave walked over to Damien's table and sat a large flagon onto it and looked down at Damien. Gustave inquired, "Anything else i may get you my lord?". Damien looked up at his servant and shook his head slightly before replying. "Nothing at the moment, make sure our guests this evening are well received. Also, answer their questions and you will know when to send them to me. I expect a few new faces tonight and I hope they will bring the firepower I need. You are dismissed". With that Gustave returned to his station behind the bar and readied it for the coming storm.

Meanwhile, Damien sat far from the bar in the woods a few miles from town. He was around a small fire with the elders or the closest werewolf carens. Damien thought quietly to himself, "I have to stop these petty squabbles if I'm to get any use out of these wolfs." He stood and drew the blade that was bound in his hand. Holding it high he looked at each and ever elder one by one before speaking. "You all know why I have called you here and I need an answer tonight. I need the might of the nation with me when we strike against the heart of the Technoracy." A short, slender old man across the fire from him lifted his cane up and pointed it at Damien. "We all know what you want pup but the needs of a kinfolk regardless how powerful you may be cannot rush a judgement from us. You will have our decision in a weeks time the night after the full moon. Now leave, your prescence here draws my ire." With that the image of Damien faded before the group of me and blackened out of existance.

Whispers began filling Daniels head as he stumbled down 5th ave... "Where is this place?" he mumbled to himself. Having the world spinning and feeling nauseated, Daniel stumbled into the nearest alley to throw up. "whats happening? I've never been this sick from drinking!"

A man in a business suit happened to walk by and hear Daniel in his ill state and came by to check in on him. Catching a glimpse of the gentleman Daniel noticed he was very fresh looking. The streetlight glistened off the strangers hat giving him an almost glowing persona. "Are you ok?" inquired the man. "I dont feel quite as good as i normally do" joked Daniel, now turning to look at the man. Daniel began to feel hungry and notice he saw things that he'd never noticed before... There were lines all over this mans neck, possibly blood veins? "Thats weird" thought Daniel.

Falling to ground Daniel heard a voice in his head "This is the first time for you isnt it?" "What are you talking about?!" he asked. The gentleman looked around confused. "Who are you talking to?"
"Call him in close and bite him!" said the voice again. "Im not going to do that!" replied Daniel. "Ok... are you sure your feeling ok guy?" inquired the gentleman. "Yea i'll be ok..." replied Daniel as he turned to throw up alittle more. The stranger stepped a little closer and begun to lean down in order to help Daniel up "Lets get you somewhere safe and warm for the night".

Upon being approached by the gentleman Daniel had a flashback to when he met the other mysterious gentleman... His hand moves slowly toward the gentlemans. "Im Paul, who are you?" said the gentleman extending his own hand. "Im... hungry" whispers Daniel. "What was that? I didnt quite catch it" Paul said with a smile.
Daniels hand lunges forward and grabs the back of Pauls neck. "Whoa! Slow down!" he says as he notices Daniels eyes grow pale with delight. Pauls eyes grow as he knows somethings not right as Daniel pulls him in close... too close... and sinks his teeth into Pauls neck. After a few min Pauls body goes completely limp on Daniels lap.

"Good, you've done exactly what i wanted you to do." Sprang the voice in Daniels head again. In an almost "high" state Daniel inquired "Who are you?! What have i done?!" "You will find out soon enough..." replied the voice. "Now get up and move on! I will dispose of the body." Reluctantly Daniel gets up and begins his journey to this mysterious "Beacon Street"

It had been a week since Mike had done the bank job and he had yet to even look over the notes he had made off with. No, Mike was far too engrossed in something else that he had taken home that day.

"Lift your hand and place it on the keys." The ominous voice spoke to him as he sat in front of his computer. "While you do I want you to breathe slowly and brace yourself for what you are about to see."

Full of anxiety and curiosity he raised his hand above the keyboard. Breathing out slowly he tried to calm his mind as he laid his fingers on the plastic keys. As flesh touched keys he felt a jolt of energy go through him making him cling to the chair with his free hand. It wasn't electric, it felt more like an adrenaline rush.

"This is your computer. It is speaking to you." The voice spoke quietly as though whispering. "It is happy because you are waking up."

"What is it saying?" Mike said as he released the chair and laid his other hand on the keys. It felt warm to the touch; soothing. "Wait." He said interrupting his previous question. "I can hear it."

"Then what is it saying?" The voice said calmly.

"Welcome home.....master." Mike sat still and stared at his computer. "What do I do now?" He said feeling the energy of the computer pull him in.

"I'll show you, but you have to be willing to leave everything else behind. Are you willing to do that?"

Mike stared into the darkness of his monitor and smiled. "I don't think I can go back to what I had before after feeling this. I'll do it."

The world around him went black as he was drawn into the feeling of the computer world drawing him in. He had now awakened his powers.

-----------------------------------------------

>21:49 24-12-2009
>Welcome to the 1st National bank of Boston...
>Enter Accounttttttt....@#$!%5^%$6^&.....
>
>
>Greetings J1NX_

The Bank computer was used to his tampering by this point and had grown rather fond of his digital caress. Lighting up the diodes and passing from circuit to circuit, The Crown Prince of Programming had made a new monacre for himself. Taking the name J1NX to mock his enemies as they took him to be nothing more than a replicating computer virus, Mike made himself at home among his new digital family.

>How MMMMMMMMMMMMay I Help youuu?

~No withdrawals today_
~Just following a hunch_
~Let me see through your security camera, please_

As if asking an old friend, the simple ATM computer complied and gave him full view of the street, the passersby and the alley across from the bank. J1NX had been listening to all sorts of chatter for the past few weeks of something going on in Boston. Technocracy...Glasswalkers...overly ambitious Ventrue, he wasn't sure, but what he did know was that it was something important and the Hunter.net was full of chatter about what could be coming.

"Nothing around this part of town, but a few drunk bums." He thought scanning the streets. "How could something like this go without my notice? There has to be a lead somewhere..." As J1NX's internal monologue spoke loudly he was drawn to movement in the alley.

A man, stumbling, disoriented and dazed staring hard at a piece of scrap paper he pulled from his pocket. Watching the man look around cautious and confused, it was the best lead he had all night and even if it was a wash he could have some fun watching the drunk fall into parked cars.

It was only a few minutes until it finally happened the bum stumbled into an alley to puke up the sic he had accumulated from his drunken debauchery. J1NX watched safely from a traffic camera up above and snickered to himself. One of the joys of a digital life, no illnesses to speak of.

The Digital Demi-god found his levity poorly placed as he watched the drunken bum ravage and drain the blood from the a good samaritan. J1NX swallowed hard and continued to watch, knowing that the sickness he had witnessed was more than that. This was the aftermath of a vampire being born.

"Jackpot."

Stumbling into the street his mind is full of cloudy thoughts of what has just occurred, "What have i done? What am i becoming?". Looking ahead he sees Wharf Avenue and knows Beacon Street is only just around the corner.

Continuing he notices a gentleman's club with a little girl standing outside holding a gigantic lolly pop, staring at him. "What is a little girl doing in this part of town at this hour?" he asked himself. In the back of his mind he hears a small childish voice "Don't concern yourself with me, concern yourself with the blood that's on your face. You don't want to draw attention to yourself, do you?" Eyes bulging he grabs the lower part of his shirt and wipes his mouth. Sure enough its completely drenched in blood. Deciding it would be best to ditch the bloody shirt he walked to the closest trashcan rips it off, and shoves it to the very bottom.

Spinning back around the little girl is still staring at him smiling. Looking both ways before making a mad dash across the street Daniel grabs the girl "How did you do that?! Whats happening here?! Tell me!" With a smile the girl speaks "Your new, i can tell. Don't be afraid i'll teach you what you need to know but not right now. My names Azalea. That's all you need to know for now. Now go..." Breaking free of his grasp she steps back a few steps and fades into the shadows still smiling.

"I'm still watching you..." whispers the voice again. "Who are you?! What do you want?!" Daniel yells. "You don't have to yell, i can hear your thoughts. All i want you to do, is get to where your headed... All will be revealed there." "What happens there?" Dan inquires. No answer.
Looking down at himself Daniel notices all hes wearing is a muscle shirt, some denim bluejeans, a belt, and some doc martens. "Whatever this should be good enough" he mumbles to himself as he rounds the corner reading the sign that says "Beacon Street". "Good i've finally made it. Now to find 112 1/2."

After walking for about 20 min or so and not finding anything, he decides its a lost cause and turns around to leave. Something on the wall next to him however catches his eye. Some graffiti that is almost illegible. Upon closer inspection he notices its actually faintly glowing, and etched into the wall... "112 1/2" "Finally! Now for my answers!" Looking for a door he stares at the wall with complete confusion but notices another etching that looks like an arrow pointing down an almost invisible alley. "Where was this before? Whatever! Lets go."

Making his way down the ally about 150 feet he notices a faintly glowing pink light. Underneath stood a lone bouncer allowing people to come and go as they pleased forbidding few to come in. "S.S. Bar" is the title behind the bouncers head. Taking a few steps toward the door, the man moves in front of him. "What do you want here?" Reaching into his pocket Daniel pulls out the piece of paper and show it to the bouncer. "Ah your here for that, well come in." says the bouncer with a smile. Making his way in, Daniel grabs a seat at the bar and orders his drink. "Tonight should be an interesting night." remarks the bar keep. "How so?" inquires Daniel. "You'll see" replies the bar keep.

The crispness of the white oak table dissipated as the silhouette of a man shadowed the piece of paper that was being fidgeted with. "A quarter of an inch to the right, with a half inch angle on the left side to ensure straightness." the almost inaudible words escaped the mans mouth. "Perfect." The room in which Mordrid stood mirrored this sentiment. Every item, knick knack, and piece of furniture had its proper location, with no exception to the cleanliness of each piece. The air seemed stale in the condominium, as if the thought of dust was not only laughable, but quite impossible.

"Technocracy... 112 1/2 Beacon Street..." Mordrid carelessly thought as he read the paper presented to him on the table. A smile cracked on his pale white skin. "A call to arms? It has been some time since we have had the chance to play with anyone else..." Mordrid slipped his hands into his pockets; the sound of starched fabric echoed around the air. Gold glinted off the sunlight shining in from the sliding glass doors leading to the balcony. Brass knuckles fit easily around Mordrid's fingers, and the temperature in the room seemed to increase as he paced. "What else would I do with my time... sit around... no events..."

An idea soon formed in Mordrid's mind, "The Network." Mordrid reached out, and spoke in a way only the masses of true insanity would hear, "Down to the Technocracy?" Mere moments passed before the echoing scream of response was heard, "WE ARE LISTENING."

Modrid snatched the paper, and the flash of a blonde ponytail escaping into the night was the last movement the apartment would see that evening.

Jumping from cable line to cell phone signal, J1NX followed the supernatural beast as it made its may along the road. "Come on you blood sucking son of a bitch. Show me what I wanna see." Came his thoughts loud as church bells in his mind. "Make your move and then I'll make mine."

The awkward and yet precise movements of his target kept the Digital Demigod watching carefully, but he found the bigger concern approaching. With dwindling cell signals and no cameras, J1NX would need to become physical again, not something he looked forward to.

Quickly materializing on a rooftop over his prey, the Prince of Programs watched like a hawk making sure to keep out of sight. "Keep close J1NX, we didn't come this close to fall off the scent." Watching one after another enter the bar he grimaced as he watched the one he had followed so far go out of sight. "I sure hope this is the spot." He said aloud letting the wind carry his voice out of earshot. "If not it's back to scouring the net for tips." Crouching and looking closer, the Cyber Assassin kept a close eye on the comings and goings of the clubs patrons until he found his invitation. A smartly dressed business type, dark glasses, italian suit, typing away at his blackberry.

Materializing in the shadows he waited for his new target to walk within reach. Hearing the tap tap of fingers on keys he reached out his hand as the man walked by. "Spare a dime, sport?" The man snarled looking at our hero. "Step off, pander!" He said with a shove. "I don't want your smell on my suit."

"You should be nice." The Master of Mecha said plainly. "You never know who is listening." As he spoke the darkness began to pull away with the light of a passing helicopter. With the added noise, noone that wasn't listening for them would have heard his spine snapping or saw the unknown stranger dressing himself in the bloody suit.

Walking to the bouncer at the front door he produced a flyer from his pocket as had the others he had been watching. With little more than a nod he waved him inside, giving J1NX entrance into the place he had been researching for weeks. His tail was at the bar, several others dotted the interior, but as for the decor it looked no different from any other bar.

"Is this it?"

Mordrid's face contorted in disgust as he walked the street blocks he knew would lead to Beacon Street. "The true plague that kills our world is all of this filth!" he yelled while passing a disheveled bum in rags. Two miniature vacuums were removed from inside his white jacket, and he ran them up and down his entire frame as he walked. The air around him was contagious and dirty, and he would be damned if he did not obsessively clean.

As Mordrid walked, he was sure to take in the spectacle around him. All of the supernatural activity was astounding. Vampires, Were-creatures, fairies... they all had surfaced to watch what was taking place. Some looked anxious while others moved around nonchalantly, smiles on their faces, as if the impending threat that loomed was more like a surprise party waiting to be set off. A man suddenly stepped from the alleyway and blocked Modrid's path. His attire was off, but so was everything else these days. He wore a large tophat, a purple overcoat, white frock, and large green bow-tie. In his right hand he brandished a cane with a glass ball handle.

"I say son.... are you prepared?!" he pushed his cane into Mordrid's chest with a jubilant smile. "For what you old coot? Out of my way, I have places to be, and things to do." the Captain of Clean pushed the cane off of himself, taking notice of the small nano-type chip inside the glass.

"Why, for the reformation of course! It is time for the world to bow... will you kneel?" a glint of silver flashes off of the gears in the mans right eye. "I will kneel when I find a resting place suiting my needs." Modrid's hands slid neatly into his jacket pockets, fitting his most disciplined weapons around his fingers. "And where might that be, m'boy?" the silvery glint abruptly turned red. "I'll never know unless you stop blocking my path!" Modrid swung his fists at the man. A direct impact.

Smoked fumed from where the man was. A half mechanical being stood in front of Modrid, ripped asunder from the "waist" up.

"Remember boy... You were offered a chance. You shall not spit in our face again." the voice came from behind Mordrid's back, no longer full of joy, but disdain. Preparing for another assault, Mordrid turned only to be greeted by an empty sidewalk.

The rubble from the altercation had showered the clean tailored suit, and the vacuums were once again removed to do their duty. Not wanting another run in with the Technocracy, Mordrid pulled the shadows around the road to him, and walked the remaining two blocks to Beacon Street.

A Malkavian had scrawled on both walls adjacent to the opening of 112 1/2. "With two halves." "You make a whole." A bouncer-esque man stood outside the door as Mordrid approached. The paper was produced, and access was granted.

"Full house." Modrid silently remarked as he squeezed his way into the bar.

A voice cries out in the hallows of Daniels mind "Down to the technocracy?" only to hear an even more faint cry of "WE are listening." Puzzled and nervous he continues his drinking game with himself. The door flies open as a man in a bloody business suit enters and looks around. "Whatever, a little blood never hurt anyone." Daniel carelessly thinks to himself.

"I'll have a bloody mary. Barkeep did you not hear me? I said I'll have a bloody mary!" calls a man in an almost hobo looking suit, standing next to Daniel. "I heard you! But we don't have any Mary, all we have is Susan. Shes the new chick. That work?" retorts the bar tender. "Thats fine..." replies the stranger in an almost eerily familiar voice, turning toward Daniel.

Staring deep into his glass, Daniels head begins spinning with everything that has occurred throughout the night. "Why have i come here? I feel so out of place... Like I'm the only one who doesn't belong here but yet, I somehow do." "Is that so? Did you doubt why i have brought you here?" rings the voice again. Turning sharply, Daniel notice the homeless looking man is staring at him. "What? Not used to people reading your mind? Its quite simple actually. A little practice and you'll be on your way." says the voice. "Who are you? What do you want with me?" inquires Daniel. "I have given you a gift, do not squander it! As for my name, you may call me Aziel. You may consider me a... Father figure." he says with a wicked smile. "For now, all you need to know is you're now one of us... Your mortal hunger will die soon and what you have already embraced will be all you need to survive. Now we wait, he should be arriving soon..."

Eyes growing to the size of silver dollars Daniel notices a man in a stark white coat making his way into the bar. "Oh GOD! What have I gotten myself into?!" he mumbles to himself. "Your god does not live here." Echos a murky voice, as if its been shouted from across a great distance.

Damien watched as the supernatural beasts poured into his bar. It seemed as if his attempt in mustering his numbers had worked, but how many would stay once learning what they fought against. Standing and stretching he walked over to the small stage and hoped up onto it looking over the crowd. He tapped the mike twice before speaking. "Thank you all for coming this fine evening. I'm sure most of you are wondering what this summon is all about and i assure you that your questions will all be answered. Now," clearing his throat. "What we face is a foe that has inched its way into every fiber of mortal and supernatural society. They are an enemy to us all, not just us Mages." Damien eyes wondered the crowd trying to determine if any of their numbers had infiltrated his secret meeting.

"Their numbers grow day by day and their power over us is greater than what you may believe. All i need is a few of you risk takers that want to see an end to this plague. Who want to continue to live this existence the way it ought to be lived, free of the chains of slavery." He pointed to a table in the corner of the room where he was sitting before. "I will be there all evening, and I will be glad to answer all questions. I'll also be willing to sign any of you up for the various "jobs" that need to be carried out for us to succeed." He nodded to the crowd and hopped down off of the stage.

Returning to his seat at the far side of the bar the music kicked on and he lost himself in the rhythm drowning out all the noise from the bar. Kicking his feet up onto the table he watched as a few onlookers seemed to be getting the nerve to either come to his aid or at least have their questions answered. Damien for one could not care in the least for his plans were already set into motion and the meeting here was just one more cog in the machine.

Turning toward Aziel, Daniel inquires "Is this what we're here for?" Aziel nodes. "Go pay your respects, his names Damien and just so you know, he's not one of us." Hoping off his stool the newly sired vampire is quickly caught on the shoulder by someone."Make sure you keep your head on your shoulders and stay in line. You dont want to know what he did to the last guy who mouthed off to him..." remarks Aziel with a wicked grin. "Alright? I'll keep that in mind." mumbles Daniel as he begins making his way over.

Working his way slowly around the room, Daniel notices there is a vast variety of people here. Some tall, some short, some very hairy, some with no hair at all. Standing in line he begins hearing people talking around the room as if they were right in his ear. "Whats this about?" "I dont have the slighest, do you?" "Not me!"

One tall skinny gentleman jumps up and runs toward the door falling on his face mere feet before reaching it. A tall red haired woman standing next to his body, pulls the base of what appears to be a modified halberd out of his back. "If your that weak you have no place being here..." she comments. "Anyone else want to try that?" she questions, as she scours the room for any more possible flyers...

Daniels eyes grow to the size of saucers. "OH SHIT!" runs through his head at the site of the lifeless body. "Was that really necessary Charline?" Aziel yells across the room with a massive smile. "Dont start with me right now Aziel! I am not in the mood." She remarks with a very sour look on her face.

Turning back around Daniel notices Damien is sitting in the corner staring at him. Stepping forward, he trips on something and face plants on the table. Falling to the floor he is awoken by the sound of laughter from all around. Finally regaining his composure he stands back up and turns toward Damien. "Is this where we sign up?" he inquires while trying to catch his breath.