He's content with his progress. The lab has taken shape. It needs more; more equipment, more freezable blood bags. But he's got what he needs
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He's left the crowded apartments, the dirt, the scents of crowding and sadness and thick heavy hope. He's outside now, in the burn of the air and the scratching of the dust, cursing his senses
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He enters the room, closing the door almost all the way, and looks around. Anti-vampire measures, an entry point at the window, a bare hearth and not even candles for lighting. No surprise there.