Chiaro di Luna (Dr. Black)

A way to contact him. The notion seemed strange for such a mundane concern. If only Reginald could remember where he kept those old business cards from Miskatonic University. Not having used them for years, he found himself stalling with a few words while probing his pockets.

"Well, if any of the horned man's followers decide to test his gift, I suspect that will hear about it in short order. It is, after all, precisely the sort of lurid fancy that the media are so fond of these days."

Of course. His wallet. Where else? There was only one left anyway. Perhaps it would be wise to get a few more printed. If tonight was any indication, Dr. Black might well never know when he would need such a convenient means of introduction. For the time being, he offered his remaining slip of information to his hostess.

"My card, Miss Manfrella. The address is outdated, I'm afraid, but the University still keeps an eye on my mail. Anything you send to them will reach me soon enough. The electronic mail account I have been furnished with is about as reliable." In theory, digital communication ought to be far faster than conventional post, but Dr. Black could never be certain when technology would deign to cooperate with him. He was quite comfortable working with ideas, less so with machines.

Bowing once again, he regarded Miss Manfrella one last time. "It has been a pleasure making your acquaintance. Though my own hopes as yet do little to alter reality, I nonetheless wish all the best for you and your extended family. I think I may even look forward to seeing what you make of this world for yourself." With this said, though, it was time for Dr. Black to be on his way. It took but a few strides for him to pass the gilded doors and step back into the night.