last leg
TRANSCRIPT
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Last Leg
Chapter 1
Despite Starr’s passport not matching her
appearance, the airport employees gave her no problems. Her father, who was in the Air
Force, got it for her when she was twelve, for
when they were stationed in Germany. Now,
at sixteen, she’d changed a lot since then: her
hair was straight waist length and blue black
like the midnight sky, and she never went
anywhere without black eyeliner and red lips.Her seat rattled as the person behind
her put a tray in upright position.
She couldn’t stand the tight little seats
and the cramped little space of the 737
aircraft. All she wanted was to land so she
could stretch her legs; that and she was tired
of smelling the toilet.
Several hours later, she was
awakened by a glare of light through the
window, in front of her, that a passenger
opened. The sun had risen and reflected off
the icy clouds.
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She smelled it, again, coming from a
man in a black suit: a sweet scent thatreminded her of a light sage. His dark eyes
stayed forward, as though trying not to give
away that he was onto her, but she knew he
was.
Normally, once a human was turned,
they stopped putting off their pungent animalsmells – body odor - but they still secreted
pheromones.
Deeply, she inhaled the air, tasting the
sage and trying to pick out the pheromones
so as to determine if he was a threat to her.
She was distracted by the pilot’s
voice, coming over the intercom, letting them
know they had already begun their descent
toward the Sibiu Airport, in Transylvania,
Romania.
The man’s scent filled the air at the
news; he was just as happy, as she was, for
the long trip to be over.
She and the man, who continued to
pretend he wasn’t following her, made it
through customs and baggage claim, though
he didn’t have any bags; he even followedher to the taxi line.
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Was he really so stupid as to think she
didn’t notice?
Oh well; she figured it was better to
play naïve, for the moment, anyway. She
didn’t want to get on the bad side of Louisa
Credenza who was the reason for her flying
to Romania. Unfortunately, she was hopingto make the trip in secret, so already being
followed was real disappointment.
“Unde a face nevoie la spre energie?”
asked her cab driver.
A trick of being a vampire was Starr seemed to have gained a, sort of, extra
sensory perception to understand what people
wanted of her, even if the language they
spoke wasn’t English. Unfortunately, her
comprehension didn’t always mean that she
knew how to respond, which is why she spent
many of the hours, mid-flight, studying basic
Romanian phrases.
“A face pe plac lat, Marriott Hotel,”
she said slowly and awkwardly.
When he asked which one, she merely
looked into his eyes, in the rearview mirror,shrugged her shoulders and furrowed her
eyebrows.
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The man seemed to understand, for hesaid “Nici o problema,” and drove off.
Starr hadn’t much time to plan before
she’d left the city. It was a last minute
decision that she should come and track
down the headquarters of, what LouisaCredenza called, The Council.
Repeatedly, she looked out the back
window, trying to see if the man in the suit
was there, in one of the cars, but she couldn’t
find him, nor smell him out of all the exhaust
and crisp mountain air.
Twenty minutes later, the cab driver
parked in front of a hotel lobby in the center
of Sibiu.
If she were still human, her breath
would have been taken away by the beautiful,
old city.
As she stepped out of the car, she
turned around, looking at the exotic medieval
structures. It was true, what they say:
Transylvania appeared to be an excellently
maintained medieval territory.
The buildings were charming, though
old, and, yet, somewhat garish, with the way patrons mended their old frames; rather than
original restorations, the buildings were
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painted with colors of white, yellow and
pink; they simply didn’t match their structures, she thought. She couldn’t help but
think they shouldn’t have put drywall over
the beautiful wooden churches, or over the
old stone buildings.
Looking south, she saw enormous,
intimidating mountains with blankets of mistthreatening to drop down on them. She
wondered if they were the infamous
Carpathian Mountains that bordered the
Ukraine.
Looking at them, she imagined wars
upon wars, and blood and swords: people
fighting and people dying, centuries ago.As she walked up the path, to the
hotel, she tasted the air, but didn’t smell or
sense the man.
At the counter, a lady in a blue suit
with her hair in a tight bun asked, “Cum pot
ajutor tu?”
“A room, please,” Starr said, hoping
she understood.
“O’gay,” she said with a thick accent.
It wasn’t until the woman asked howshe’d be paying that Starr realized she’d
forgotten to visit the currency counter at the
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airport, for she didn’t have any credit cards,
as she was only sixteen.
“No,” she said, shaking her head.
“They ar-r-re expensive, the air-r-rport,” she
rolled each R short and harshly.
The woman gave her directions to a
spot down the street.
Starr couldn’t help but laugh at all the
Dracula propaganda posted in shop windows
and passed out in pamphlets on the street.
They all said, “Dracula lived here,” “Dracula
ate here,” and “Come visit Dracula’s …,”
something, or other.
When she returned to the hotel, Starr
was checked into a nice clean room, where
she crashed on the bed and sighed, loudly.
Traveling was exhausting and, though
she loved seeing new places, she hoped to
never have to leave the Unites States again.
Inwardly, she told herself she just
wanted to relax, after being cramped in a
steel tube for nearly a day and a half, but that
was completely changed when she looked out
of her room’s window.Once again she was awed by
centuries old beauty.
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Across the sky, and along the base of
the lower part of Sibiu, old houses werecrammed next to each other in a long row.
Up higher, she saw enormous solitary
structures: castles, dark and foreboding, even
in the light of day.
Pressing her face into the window,
she looked right and saw half a dozen castle-like structures; they had cylindrical shapes
and conical pointed roofs.
Anxious to see, up close, the old city,
she put her stuff in the safe, grabbed her bag
and walked down to the tourist counter where
she booked her first tour.
One thing that made her laugh washow all the brochures, behind the hotel’s
counter, called all the castles, Dracula’s,
whether he actually lived there or not. If he
stopped in for the night, or only for a café,
they were place was his.
She spent the day on the tour in the
city of Sighisoara, one of Vlad III’s real
homes when his father, Vlad II, was in exile.
Like Sibiu, the fortified city was
nearly perfectly preserved, and even the more
rotted parts of the city were beautiful and
enchanting; even the brick roads reminded
her of how old the place, she stood on, was.As she entered the infamous Clock
Tower, which was built in the 13th century,
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she felt truly overcome by the realization that
the clock was a truly special piece of magnificence, and especially for the common
people of the middle ages.
By early evening, Starr returned to
Sibiu where she wandered about for hours.
The town was known for having twolevels of division. For the earlier part of the
evening, she walked the upper level which
was a business district. There she felt
compelled to touch all the walls; to her,
touching them was like touching a person’s
essence, a person that lived centuries before.
Except for the garish paint, andoccasional dry wall, many of the towers were
so excellently preserved that Starr could
immediately see, in her mind, what life might
have been like there: the Harquebusier, home
to medieval infantry; the Carpenter Towers,
fortified with a beautiful octagonal shape;
Tanning Towers, and the Gunpowder
Towers. People worked themselves to death,
in those places.
To think that, in a mild way, she was
connected, being what she was, to the town
was a thrilling thought. After all it wasmythology that Vlad, himself, was the first
vampire. The fact that an ethical tribe of
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vampires, who called themselves The
Council, ruled and resided there, made therumor seem possible.
She wondered if vampires were first
born, there, in the Transylvanian territories?
Was Vlad Tepes III really a vampire? What if
she met Vlad the Impaler, and found he was a
maniacal vampire? What would she do then?
When she tired of the upper level, she
moved along to the lower level which was
comprised of mostly houses that were
centuries old, too.
The houses were all crammed
together, making long neat rows of houseafter house, just like she saw from her hotel
room. In her city, homes were crammed
together, too, though, unlike her city, the
long, crammed neighborhoods looked like
they provided little privacy or space.
The Romanian people stuck out,
greatly, in contrast to their medieval
surroundings. In fact, they seemed
completely out of place, in their modern
clothes, carrying their laptops and talking on
cell phones.
At the corner of a cobble stone street,
she spotted a little pub. Tired of wanderingaround, she decided to stop.
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Inside was just like most of the other
houses and small buildings she’d seen thatday; although attached to enormous
structures, the pub, itself, was small and dark
like a cave.
Inside, the décor was simple looking
with thick whittled wooden tables and chairs
crammed together, hardly allowing of patron privacy.
The crowd was mostly middle aged,
though a few of them were fairly young, but
their skin was ruined from years of drinking
and smoking; a trend that seemed to start
early in the towns of Transylvania.
She walked up to the counter andordered an Ursus: a beer from the top
brewery in Romania.
The myths would say that her kind
could only drink blood, but it just wasn’t
true. In fact, Starr really enjoyed the light
refreshing taste of the spiced ale, as she
poured it over her tongue.
It was at that moment she noticed the
scent of sage, again, but she wasn’t surprised.
Eventually, she knew he’d find her, again.
She remained where she was,
thoroughly surprised, and enjoying her corba
de peste, fish soup which turned out to bevery delicious.
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Finally, the man must have realized
she was onto him, for, instead of trying to blend in with the crowd, he sat right next to
her.
“So I figured I’d better just say hi,” he
said with a thick Romanian accent.
Starr kept eating as if he didn’t speak.“Ar-r-ren’t you going to say
something,” he asked, rolling his R.
“Go away,” she said icily, as she
sipped more of her fish broth.
“Well, that’s hardly nice, Madam,” he
said surprised.
She took a sip of her cold brew.After a moment of silence, the man
continued, “You are just as shocking of
tongue, as you are of presence: black hair,
black eye liner, black leather. What is this? A
chain ar-r-round your neck?”
Like an old character in a comic
book, Starr liked to fashion a thick chain link
around her neck, clasped off with a full sized
metal lock; the key was in her pocket at all
times.
The man reached out to touch the
chain.
“Don’t touch me,” but the manignored her.
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Faster than the human eye could see,
Starr put her hand around the man’s neck andslammed it to the counter, pinning him there.
He yelped and groaned as he clawed
at her hands, but she was too strong.
Starr, who was a black black belt in
Karate, a natural runner, and could bench
press like a man when she was alive, wasnow a real life woman of steel. It was for this
reason that The Council and, particularly,
Louisa Credenza had taken an interest in her;
however, Starr had a deep rooted feeling that
their intentions were not wholly pure, and she
wouldn’t be forced to do anything she didn’t
agree with.There weren’t many vampires, young
or old, who could take Starr on, which is why
she flew to Romania to spy on The Council.
If she could find out what their plans, for her,
were, then she could determine whether, or
not, she needed to prepare for the fight of her
life.
Personally, thought Starr a few times,
she’d rather just fall off the face of the Earth,
and if it weren’t for the people in her life that
she cared about, she would have.
The problem with hiding from other
vampires was some of them had the samenatural ability, as Starr, to sense each other’s
presence; to pick each other out of a crowd.
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Worse was the older they got, the stronger
their powers became. Hiding from Credenzawould be like running from the law with a
cell phone in her pocket; she’d always be on
satellite and easily located.
The barrister, who was cleaning a
glass stopped and stared, as did the other
patrons. Normally, people were surprised tosee that skinny, beautiful Starr could kick a
man’s butt.
He whimpered and clawed at her
hand, trying to get her to release her grip.
Finally, she let him up. He looked at
her, his face red and angry, and then walked
out.The patrons continued to stare; Starr
stared back, defiantly.
“Ce este?” she said loudly and
angrily; the patrons turned back to what they
were doing, quickly.
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Castle De Negru
Chapter 2
The next day, she took the Carpathian
Mountains Bonus tour, only it didn’t go high
up into the mountains, but, rather, just up into
the immediate hills where they viewed thecity from on high.
The road was a windy, winding path.
Occasionally, Starr wondered if the bus could
tip over the side. Judging by scent that other
passengers were giving off, many others were
a little frightened, too.
When they got to the top of their point, she caught sight of an enormous black-
as-coal lake; it was long fished out and dead.
The bus driver continued up several
more miles of road, and the further up they
got, the more the road diminished; leaving
barely enough room for the bus to drive on.
The higher they went, the more
nervous the passengers seemed to get.
After a few more miles, the bus
turned right onto a rocky road that took them,
steadily, down an incline.
As they made their way down, they
passed a herd of goats and a coupleherdsman.
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Crazy as it seemed, to her, and many
of the tourists, this was a spectacular site tosee; the idea that people still did such things
was unimagined.
Further along, Starr saw, ahead, a
dark castle approach: Castel de Negru, the
bus driver called it.
As they got closer to the castle, Starr felt a tickle in her ear. She rubbed it, but the
tickle turned into a buzz. Curiously, she
looked around to see if anyone else noticed
the weird noise, but no one appeared to be
bothered.
A few hundred more feet and her
head started to feel like it was being penetrated by infrasonic sound waves.
Trying to protect her ears, she put her
hands to her ears, but it didn’t help. Then,
instantly, her mind was flooded with the
thoughts of a dozen people, murmuring. It
hurt bad, making her eyes water.
Although she was a kind of telepath,
her specialty was sensing other people or
vampires around her, and seeing pictures in
her mind of what they were doing in the
present. This was the first time she’d ever
been able to hear conversations taking place,
too.Then, like someone put a movie in
her mind, she saw that inside they were
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preparing a blood bath. The sight made her
inner animal thirsty, and her fangs protrudedforward a bit.
Desperately, she tried to ignore the
images and commanded her fangs to recede,
but, then, she saw a large stone bath in the
center of the room, where a table could have
seated 50 people.A man in a white suit was tying up a
goat that cried, loudly, by the feet; he strung
him upside down, over the basin and slit its
throat.
The blood poured down in a thick
stream. There were six goats, next to it, that
were slowly dying, their cries becoming lessand less, as they’d had their throats slit
moments before.
Sometimes, when she didn’t get
blood, regularly, in her diet, she would ‘turn’
at the sight of it; meaning her vampire would
show its self; her fangs would extend and her
eyes would change colors. If she was really
starved for blood, she could even ‘vamp out.’
To vamp out was a serious thing that
could cause Starr to lose human
consciousness, turning her into a mindlesszombie and killing machine.
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Starr fidgeted, uncomfortably, in her
seat; she didn’t know if she could stop fromturning right there, as the images continued
to permeate her mind.
Finally, her skin started to tingle, she
felt her fangs extended all the way, and it was
too late.
She reached inside her jacket, pulledout her sunglasses and covered her
iridescent-kaleidoscope eyes, which was a
bizarre sight on anyone.
A low growl came from her throat.
She tried to silence it but she felt helpless,
like she was losing the fight against her inner
demon.Just when she’d given up, and was
about ready to jump out of the window to
avoid killing anyone, the feeling lifted.
She looked out of the window; the
castle was a hundred feet behind them, and
then five hundred, and then a thousand. The
further away they got, the calmer Starr
became.
The bus continued five more miles
down the path, and stopped in an obscured
little town.
Still unable to draw back her fangs,
she decided to go to the bathroom and splashsome water on her face.
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After seeing her sweaty, pallid
reflection in the bathroom mirror, shedecided to stay behind, rather than return to
Sibiu, because she didn’t know if she could
pass the castle, again. Next time, she would
surely vamp out and someone might die.
Maybe she could track one of thosegoats she’d seen being herded?
Staring at the ground, and covering
her mouth so as not to show her fangs to the
bus driver, she explained that she would stay
the night, at the bed and breakfast, and then
take the bus home, the next day.The driver stared at her and Starr got
the sensation that he knew what was really
bothering her: that she needed blood.
Fortunately, the man just told her to be
careful and then gave her a map of the area.
After checking into the town’s bed
and breakfast, she paced the room, trying to
calm her inner animal which had picked up
its growl again, but, like a nicotine addict she
was bouncing off the walls. The smartest
thing to do would be to go out and get a goat,
but she hated hunting when she wasn’t in her
right mind.
It’s too late; I need blood, now!
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Fortunately, for her, as soon as she
stepped outside, the scent of blood caughther. Tasting the air, she could tell that it came
from the town square.
Following the scent with her mind,
she saw that there was a little butcher shop. A
man was cleaning out a cow he’d only
purchased that morning, so the blood, shesmelled, was real fresh.
She walked fast through the dirt, for
the town had no sidewalks. Just before the
front door of the butcher shop’s building, she
turned left down a walkway between it, and
the building right before.
Twenty feet down, and to her right,was a little clearing where a man was
spraying the meat of a cow with a water hose.
In the corner, there was a bucket full
of the cow’s blood. From inside the building,
a phone rang. He put down the nozzle and
disappeared through the door.
Quick as she could, Starr ran up,
grabbed the bucket and then disappeared,
further, down the walkway.
At the end of the walkway, she turned
right and continued down the alley. A
moment later, she sat on a trash bin, put the bucket up to her mouth, and poured every
drop of the rich red liquid down her throat.
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“Ugh!” she blurted out. Cow bloodwas the worst! It was the sturdier breeds of
animal that tasted good: lamb, chicken, goat,
and even dogs. But if she had to drink animal
blood, her most preferred was chicken.
Despite the foul taste of the blood,she felt relief. She licked her lips and teeth,
which retracted, instantly. Then she pulled a
mirror from her jacket pocket and took off
her sunglasses: her eyes were still glowing. It
would be awhile before they’d return to their
normal sterling grey.
Not wanting to be found in such aweird position, on a trash bin with a bloody
bucket, she got up and walked, further, down
the road, taking in the rest of the little town.
There wasn’t much to it. She could
count the number of commercial buildings on
both hands. It was chilly and dusty, and
practically a ghost town.
As she walked, it did occur to her that
the Castel de Negru’s inhabitants might have
known something about The Council.
Perhaps they could give her some
insight about the organization and tell her where it was?
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Although the Castel de Negru’s
inhabitants might also be Council members,she thought, too.
After contemplating the Negru
vampires, she decided to check it out, later.
She spent the rest of the afternoon
lying in her bed at the bed and breakfast, asthere was nothing else to do in the little town.
When it was dark, she ran out and up
the road. Although this task would have been
arduous for a mortal, for Starr it took fifteen
minutes to run the few miles back up to the
castle.As she got closer, she immediately
sensed the dozen, or so, vampires in there,
laughing, mingling, and still preparing for
whatever was to happen, that night.
She stopped at a tree about fifty yards
from the castle and probed the place with her
mind.
Just like earlier, she could hear bits
and pieces of conversation: a lady in a white
dress was ordering the drained goats to be
spitted and roasted, a man was sitting in front
of a large fireplace, drinking brandy, andsomeone, whose face she couldn’t see
clearly, was setting up silverware in the
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enormous dining room where the blood bath
was.She looked at her cell phone and saw
that it was only 8 p.m.; whatever event they
were planning hadn’t begun yet.
From what she saw, she couldn’t
conclude if they were good or bad vampires;
whether they were in connection with TheCouncil or not.
Then, suddenly, it got quiet inside the
castle. She knew that some of them, if not all
of them, probably sensed her sensing them.
One of them, whom she’d seen
earlier, a man in a white suit with a red bow
tie, opened the front door of the castle andwas walking toward the gate. Several men
and women, from inside, crowded the
doorway.
Starr didn’t know if it were wise to
meet these vampires. They could kill her, or
trick her, make her Credenza’s slave. Who
knew what kind of laws The Council lived
by.
Caution told her to run, immediately,
so she hurried back down the road, toward
the town.
Briefly, she looked back and saw twored eyes gleaming at her, in the dark.
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By the time she made it back to town,
her legs felt gummy. Perhaps she wasstronger than humans, but she could still
exhaust her strength, as she’d learned in
previous battles.
She stopped into a little bar, if you
could call it that. It was the size of a closet,
and all they served was beer and wine.The place was barely lit by dim gas
lamps. There were five tables with chairs, but
no bar.
The dozen or so patrons looked
surprised by her sudden appearance in the
doorway.
Starr observed their ragged clothesand vagrant expressions. Unlike the other
Romanians, these people were dark and
ethnic looking. Starr wondered if these were
some of the infamous gypsies one hears
about in ancient lore.
“Assemanator un bere, Ursus,” Starr
said uncertainly. She’d only learned that
phrase yesterday, and it still wasn’t rolling
off her tongue quite right, but they must have
understood, for the fattest and ugliest man of
the bunch stood up and went behind a
counter.Ignoring the other patrons who
continued to stare, Starr watched the man as
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she walked to a table on the opposite side of
the room.
At the table next to the men, there
were two women in dirty jeans and tee shirts.
The blonde had hair like a poodle,
and her cheap red lipstick was smeared onto
her teeth and unevenly around her mouth.Her dark haired companion looked
even worse, with enough blue eye shadow to
pass for a smurf. She had a huge rip in the
knee of her jeans, and her rotting teeth
reminded her of George Washington
depictions.
Starr didn’t need her animal senses toknow they were threatened by her. She
figured she’d better drink her beer and get
back to her room because she didn’t want to
hurt anyone, but as she finished up and made
to leave, the blonde one stepped in front of
her.
She talked at her in Romanian, but
Starr only got half of what she said:
something about her being a trashy, ignorant
American which made her smirk. The woman
had, obviously, not looked in a mirror,
recently.
Starr could have, easily, walkedaround the woman but it was common that
vampires would walk slowly, so as to blend
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in better. Humans were often confused and
bewildered by the pace, at which, they couldmove and walk. It was only for this reason
that she tried, and failed, to walk around the
woman, once more; she was trying to appear
normal.
After her third failed attempt to exit,
Starr picked her up by the shoulders, like sheweighed no more than a large cat, and set her
to the side of the door, and walked out.
Dismissing the woman infuriated her,
for she went berserk and came at her from
behind, swinging her beer mug at the back of
her head.
Starr side stepped and made a sidekick straight into her gut. The blonde flew
into the wall and slid to the ground,
unconscious.
Next, her friend came at her, slappity
slap, trying to smack her to death, which only
made Starr laugh harder.
Were they serious?
She weaved back and to the side a
couple times, and then, like slapping a gnat
between two palms, fast like, she smacked
the woman on both her cheeks.
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The pain stunned her, and then she
plopped to the ground like fallen a sack of potatoes.
Shaking her head and laughing, she
wandered back up the road, toward the bed
and breakfast.
Halfway up the road, she knewsomeone was following her, and whoever it
was must have been incredibly filthy, for
although he was like Starr, he gave off a foul
stench from his pores; almost as though he
hadn’t bathed in a century, like he’d rolled in
pig slop.
“Now that was hardly fair, was it?”
said the foul smelling man.
Starr turned around and saw he was
just as foul to look at as he was to smell.
What was it with these crazy Gypsy
Romanians?
From what she could tell, the rumors
were true: they meant trouble.
She stood there and waited for him to
speak again.
“Who are you?” he asked brazenly.
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Silence; she wasn’t going to oblige
the arrogant piece of filth.Her resistance angered him.
“Did you hear me?” he asked, as he
walked up to her; the smell of dirty diapers
emanating from him; his eyes dark and full of
crazy. “What are you, deaf?” he asked
irritably, but she simply stood there.
“What? You think you’re tough?” and
he made to spit in her face, but Starr jammed
the palm of her hand into his nose, causing it
to break and spray blood.
The man called her an evil name and
tried to take a swipe at her, but failed. Nextmoment, out of the shadows, came a gang of
them: filthy, rot smelling vampires.
Starr was shocked. Were they really
going to gang up on her? Even the gang back
in NYC was hesitant to gang up on a woman,
but, then again, she’d always heard that
Gypsies did everything, including fighting,
dirty.
Suddenly, it was like a Kung Fu
movie, and Starr was the star as she whipped
out her ruby studded sickles that Lucenzo, an
old vampire, gave her.
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They were the worst fighters she’d
ever engaged, even the gangsters, back home,had better moves.
One guy, behind her, moved toward
Starr. The one with the broken nose told him
to hold Starr, in Romanian.
Starr made two elegant steps,
completing a full 360 degree circle. Nextsecond, both their heads lay severed, on the
ground.
Four more came at her, she spun like
elegantly, like she was turning for the ballet,
and four more heads rolled.
Starr was extremely disappointed. For a moment, she even wished they were still
alive, and that she didn’t use her knives.
The downside to being as strong as
she was, was never, quite, meeting her match.
In fact, it was downright depressing, for the
only person she ever could practice martial
arts with, anymore, was herself.
A high pitch, cross between a squeal
and scream, emitted from her throat as she
looked down at her blood spattered leather
pants and vest.
She could have cried! Her Jones NewYork lambskin would be destroyed if she
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didn’t wash and oil them, immediately! But
her stuff was at home, in the city!
Awakening Starr from her moment of
shallowness, she heard a woman scream
Bloody Mary.
She’d forgotten about the two
women, passed out, in front of the little pub!
Starr didn’t waste time; she took off
running.
Great! There goes my fact finding mission!
Now she needed to worry about
getting back to her hotel, and on the next
flight out of Romania.
But as she approached Castel de
Negru, she sensed the inhabitants were
anticipating her approach.
She wasn’t mistaken, either, for as
she got closer, three of the people she’d seen
in her mind were standing in the road.
Starr stopped running, pulled out her
sickles and raised them high to sky, then back
down so that they gleamed under the light of the moon: a grand gesture, letting them know
she was ready to fight.
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There were three of them standing
elbow-to-elbow: the dark haired man with thered bow tie, a Botticelli blonde in a white
goddess-like dress, and a scrawny blond guy.