Who: Henry Townshend and Solvei Samuels What: Taking a tour of the diner, then heading out for some patrolling. Where: Starts at Sol’s bakery. When: Starts off early afternoon on Friday. Warnings: Probably violence against demons, vampires, etc. in the patrol section of the post.
Henry enjoyed these portkey things. Fast travel without the need of horrendously long security lines was a stroke of absolute genius. That was the part of being a photojournalist he’d always dreaded. Not the flying itself, he had no problem with that. It was the getting up at four in the morning to make a seven-thirty flight that bugged him. And he loved explaining his photography equipment to the guys working the X-Ray machines. Occasionally he’d get a guy that knew enough about photography to recognize Henry’s gear and let it slide on by as normal, but those were few and far between.
Not that he needed photo gear now. He still had it, hell, he’d updated his collection since finding out he’d replaced a rich actor, but for a trip like this he definitely didn’t need any. He was also glad he didn’t have to find a way to hide his weapons from security beyond the simple concealment under clothes or in the one bag he carried.
There were no guns. Solvei had made the request and he was going to honor it. Besides, she had a point, guns didn’t do a whole lot to monsters. What he did have were two knives, both blessed (it was amazing what a priest was willing to bless immediately after a hefty donation to the church) hidden in his boots, and a crossbow, and bolts for it, hidden between the top and bottom layers of clothes in his bag. He would also be picking up a hand-axe after getting to New York, but before the patrol.
It never hurt to be too careful. Or maybe that was the paranoia the Innsmouth trip had caused showing up. Either way, he brushed thoughts of Dagon and cultists and eldritch horrors aside for the moment, heading out into New York City and hailing a cab like a pro. He’d been here a few times, and knew most of the basics. He gave the cabbie the address to his hotel and then sat back, relaxing while the cabbie drove through the less-than-relaxing New York traffic.
After that it was a simple matter of checking in, heading up to his room, and unpacking. All in all, it only took him a few hours, into the early afternoon. Not bad time at all. Once finished, he whipped out his cell phone and dialed the number Solvei had given him. “Hey, it’s Henry,” he would say when she answered, in a friendly tone. “Just wanted to let you know I'm here. Do you want me to head over now?" In truth he was pretty eager to go over there. Not because it was a bakery (though he did enjoy baked goods) but because he didn't have many real friends in this world. Lots of people he knew from the boards, but very few actual friends besides Dean. This meant that increasing that pool of friends, even by one, was an important thing for him.