It is true, deer @Silverfawn, that Man first knew me in the caves, with his rocks and clubs and superstitious fears. And it is then that I first met Man's dark cousin, the one who lives for only the iron taste of me upon their lips. The Vampire!

Who is this creature with an insatiable desire for blood? It is @Pearline, the one who continually craves more and more drops of my very substance! She is soulless, and immortal, and at every turn what does she desire? More blood! Mere droplets, but drip by drip, I know she seeks to drink the very essence of the student body of this school!

Take heed, students! And cover yourselves with garlic and all the ancient wards, and do not lend your precious quintessence to this undead creature!

What is it this tinyman, this @Young Jim Horner, needs? It is obviously merely his Magic Staff! His root! His stick! His hard and cured wood! And @Nobody has it. Indeed, this tiny person's reconstitution can be quite obviously cured by restoring his connection to the limbs of this earth, not by the piercing and pricking of flesh for the sadistic, twisted delight of this dark vampiric self-made scientist.

Stand up, oh students, against this hijacking of your gore and plasma, and restore @Young Jim Horner through his connection to his earth source! His Magic Staff must be returned!

Hemo the Magnificent does not merely "donate" his self for some "experiment!" Does that pretender not understand the full power and wonder of my gift?!! Nay, I say! Until the true master of the ritual gives me guide, my pulse pumps true only for @Akane Kiyoko and her green and viney guide, the one and sprouting @Silverfawn!

While it is true I make excellent fertilizer, one must admit that is kind of gross. But it is my power beyond this mortal realm that breathes the wind into story, the ideal in man's heart, the rush in the waves of our desires!

Only I, Hemo the Magnificent, can fill that role!!

Humans think blood means disease, wounds, pain. But @Akane Kiyoko and @Silverfawn know me for for what i really am: Health! Life! I am the song of the lark, the blush on the cheek, the spring of the lamb. I am the precious sacrifice ancient man offered up to his gods. I am the sacred wine in the silver chalice. Down through the ages I am the price man pays for freedom. But to you scientists I am a smear on a slide, a stain, a specimen, a sickness. My story is a song only poets should sing, not disease lovers!

I will join this group of eight, though I alone would be enough!