(Choose If Blood-Powered)

This is where we stop talking and your story begins, my friend.

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You wake up to the bright sunshine streaming in through your window. You're wondering why it's not dark when you remember you stumbled into your room last night through the window, to find that you'd been robbed. Nothing was taken, but the place was a mess, and you were too tired last night to give a shit.

Then, to top it off, your phone cuts through the headache and grogginess while it rings, pissing you off. You answer it, trying to stay calm at the person who just so rudely interupted your almost-nap.

"This is Alexander Littlestone here; who might this be?" you didn't care to check the caller ID on the phone