Our "reunion" (as Rick deemed it once I awoke from sleep) began with an interrogation of the most intensive kind as it focused on me and my quests and aspirations. Saving the drole of my soul-searching journey around the world for another time and place, I indulged the two gentlemen instead of my purpose in finding two individuals who I thought were of utmost importance in Fanny's search. It was not until I had spoken then names of "Richter and Rorschach" (originally lost in my thought palace as I worked on finding leads to them) that the epiphany slapped me, just as quickly as I had slammed my hand to my forehead from the obviousness.

"Rick? Rory? Richter...and Rorschach," I stated, incredulous. I admit, my belated discovery was a cringe-worthy achievement. The two men were sheepishly quiet when I pointed the correlation of their names. "I went searching for a legendary duo that barely disguises their identities? The stories and rumors make you out to be men of mystery and...here you are."

"Granted, there've been plenty of imposters taking our monikers in recent years, so the thought of using our real names to blend in with a crowd of charlatans is chameleonic and clever in and of itself, don'tcha think?" Emil chuckled, pleased with himself because he had come up with the names "Rick and Rory."

"Yes, but how am I to know that you're the real deal, then, if there are hundreds out there?"

Alan covered his eyes with a hand, his brows scrunched beneath his fingers. "Wendigos," was all his exasperated voice could muster.

The word triggered flashes of memories in me, and my excitement at having found the two men I was looking for took rein of my mouth.

"Then you are the Richter and Rorschach? The same ones who dove into the whirlpool from the incident in the Li River to search for the king within a rock? The very men who restored a woman who was eaten by a dragon-fish in the Ganges?"

"Makara was not so much the villain in that Ganges adventure," muttered Emil, bitter for some reason, "and we only succeeded in helping free a man mistakenly put in an underwater prison by the stupid king that came from a rock. That dolt of a baboon..."

"You can-- you can help me, no, you can help Fanny, then!"

"You mentioned a 'Fanny' before, Miss Bulloch. She is...whom?"

"My friend. Her husband has been missing for several months now; disappeared after one of his morning strolls in the woods."

"We operate a little differently than most in investigative matters, Miss Bulloch, as you've guessed..." began Alan. His words felt like a stalking cat. "Let's start with your friend. How did you two meet?"

"I met them in Munich in my nomadic travels. Fanny and her husband Friedrich are both actors who starred in a silent film that premiered at the Berlin Zoological Garden during one of my vacations to Germany. They're a quiet and gracious couple; unlike their rapport on screen."

"And what film was it that they starred in, Miss Bulloch?" asked Alan.

"Well, I'm not sure what good it'll do, seeing as all copies of it were burned at the demand of the Stoker estate. It was Nosferatu," I replied.

At the name, Emil (who had previously busied himself by fondling the metallic curtains of the window) jolted back to our world, a grin emerging upon his visage as he indulged himself in a poorly executed joke that was later told as something along the lines of, "Burning like vampires in the sun?" Alan threw a pen at Emil soon after, striking him square between the brows. The force of the throw caused the redheaded man to recoil backwards, falling on his bottom with a resounding thud.

Alan proceeded to the subject at hand, however, ignoring his partner. He cleared his throat. "I'll have you know, Miss Bulloch, that Nosferatu is very well known in the United States," said Alan, straightening his posture, "Particularly because a certain someone propagated the film all over the world before all of the copies could be burned." He glanced at Emil, who was recovering from the assault quite splendidly across the room, save for the giant splotch of ink above his nose that seemed to unify his eyebrows into a ginger and indigo caterpillar.

"It would appear that your friend's case may be of some interest to us, Miss Bulloch. We should like to take it, although I would prefer to begin with our missing man's dearly beloved. Is she with you in town as well?"

"Yes. She's on the same hotel floor actually, a couple doors down. Shall we head over there now?"

"I want to at least extend a modicum of courtesy to her. Perhaps you should consult her about our presence and see what she decides on appointment-wise?" Alan sent a subtle message of my appearance by gazing at my ripped eveningwear judgmentally.

"I'll tidy up and do so," I said, hasty to reveal the big news to Fanny. "Don't get into trouble until then, alright?"

Alan's specter of a smile emerged momentarily in response. "Wouldn't dream of it."

∞