maskormenacelogs | You know what flows here like wine

WHO: Cassidy and Kirk
WHERE: The totally real vampire bar, Crimson Mist
WHEN: At some point
WHAT: Two vampires meet in a fake vampire bar
WARNINGS: I mean, mentions of blood probably?

[Cassidy had heard tale of this bar for some time, and yet despite his constant bar crawls around the various cities, he'd still never managed to stumble towards this one. Vampires, some had said, bunch of gothic weirdos looking for a kink fix, but there'd been mutters that a few of them were the real deal.

Maybe Cass shouldn't have gotten his hopes up at all, but he truly can't help the disappointment that sinks into his heart as he spots his first fancy dress style velvet cloak and plastic fangs. Some have put in the effort, he'll give them that, but the entire lot of them reek of posers and fakers.

He doesn't even bother to look further or mingle, just heads straight for the bar without hesitation and hoists himself up onto a stool.]

Proper frightfest in here, eh? Got some real Dusk till Dawn vibes goin' on. [Like, for real, the themeing is a confusing mess.]

Oi, don't 'spose you've got anything with blood in it, eh?

[Maybe he's joking?! Maybe he's another vampire poser after some 'blood' aka wine/cocktails.]

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[Kirk has been working here for a while now, and he's come to expect that only two types of people ever purposefully wander into here--the weird vampire wannabes, and the tough guys who think this place should be in a Patrick Swayze movie. He still has no idea how this came to pass, but they all cohabitate, so he doesn't question it anymore.

Either way, one look at this newcomer, and he doesn't appear to fit either bill. That left only one option: the guy was lost and wandered in here.

Kirk puts on his best bartender smile as he comes over, still awkward, but getting better after all this time. He's gotten pretty good at making sure his fangs just poke out from under his lips, and between that, his (natural) glowing red eyes, and the stupid cravat his boss makes him wear, it does wonders for the vampire crowd.]

Depends on how much you're willing to pay for it.

[He doesn't think the man is serious--why would he be? He's just lost.]

A whole lot.

[He slides a fifty onto the bar, flashing that cash like he's got plenty more where it came from, peering over Kirk's shoulder at what spirits are on display, and only once the alcohol has been observed does he look back to his bartender. The look gets an eyebrow arch and a toothy (and fangless) smile.]

Nice costume, lad. They really get yeh wearing all that? Christ, I hope they're payin' well.

You're going to have to spell out your top-shelf poison for me with that kind of cash.

[There's no way he's guessing with that much at stake.

He motions to the cravat.]

This stupid thing was worse in the summer.

[For that kind of money, Cassidy doesn't even bother playing the "blood or not" game, he just waves vaguely towards the spirit shelf with a tattooed hand and decides on a:] Whiskey, bottle of.

[He's going for quantity over quality here.]

Hah, I bet. I knew a fella who wore that sorta shite most the time, never saw him out in the sun though. ['cause vampire, haha.]

They contacts or what? The glowies. [Kirk's eyes, he means.]

[Kirk nods and comes back with a bottle of Johnny Walker and a glass, popping the cork and pouring the drink like a pro. You didn't want to see him when he first started, but practice does indeed make perfect. He leaves the bottle and pushes the bottle towards the patron.]

I feel like I raided Liberace's closet.

[He's a jeans and t-shirt guy. He doesn't do cravats.]

Oh no, those are natural.

[Said with just enough of a faux wink and nod to not sound like the truth. He finds that it keeps conversations from going around in circles.]

[Cass snorts a soft laugh as he reaches for his glass, knocking back half of it without so much as a flinch.]

You an imPort?

[That natural comment may have been a joke, but Cassidy's seen enough weird shit to not discount any of it. His gaze drifts towards Kirk's wrist like he's expecting to magically see the glowing tattoo under them sleeves.]

[ Kirk starts refilling it as soon as the glass hits the bar again, his tattoo purposefully poking out from under his shirt sleeve.]

Whatever gave you that idea?

I dunno, mate, something to do with the glowy eyes and the shitty job.

[Two very good tells. He downs the rest of his glass and slides it back towards Kirk.]

[Kirk dutifully refills it, smirking slightly.]

Without bartenders you'd have to pour this yourself, you know.

Ah true, and I couldn't possibly lift that big ol' bottle and pour for meself. And without bartenders, who the feck could I harass all night? Only folk who get paid will stick around long enough to tolerate me, and you lot are cheaper than hookers.

I would certainly hope so.

[They put up with a lot more than he has to.]

If that's your idea of a good night, I'm afraid to know what you do during the day.

[This time he's a little slower in his drinking, slurping noisily as he peers around at the goths and biker wannabes.]

Sleep, mostly. Sometimes I'll slap on the sunscreen and grab me umbrella and venture out to do a few drug deals or rob a few stores, y'know how it is. When yeh got pals who insist on bein' up and about in the daytime sometimes y'gotta just go with 'em out there.

Wouldn't want to rob a liquor store without an umbrella. That's really the key to any robbery.

[Kirk smiles slightly, half joking, half dead serious.]

Baz Luhrmann would be glad to know you're wearing sunscreen.

Hah, yeah, that fella knew a thing or two 'bout sunscreen, eh? I hear he was a vampire, y'know? Honest to god, they say that's what the song was really about.

[There's something incredibly genuine about the way Cassidy says that, like he truly believes the words coming out of his mouth, and that he may also be kind of a dumb lad.]

'Sides, can't go out without yer umbrella. Proper killer, that.

If he is, I've never seen him in here before.

[Not that he's actually ever seen an actual vampire beside him in here before.

Kirk genuinely can't tell if this guy is serious or mocking him, because damn if he isn't earnest about it either way.]

Depends on how much you sharpen the end of your umbrella first.

[Kirk earns an eye rolls, Cassidy close to choking on his drink as he chooses the scoff a laugh just as he's taking a swig of amber.]

N-no, mate! Not that kinda killer. I mean the sun! Y'know, 'cause of it burning vampires. Jaysus, have you even met one before? These feckin' posers are good for a laugh, like, but they're not exactly great for getting the lore right. Sorta reeks of appropriatin' culture, I'll be honest with yeh.

What, you're trying to tell me that you're a vampire now?

[He knows he doesn't have a lot to go on, but when he thinks vampire, he thinks more Lestat and less... irish drunk.]

You're tryna tell me all these folk aren't? That this is all just some form of shite cosplay? Feckin' shocker.

[Sarcastic but well meant as he grins lightly, nestling his chin into a palm.]

So what's with them eyes anyway? Super power or mutant is my bet.

You'd be surprised the kind of stories they come up with to try to convince me.

[Hint. Hint.]

Curse is more like it, but the long story short is I see better in the dark than in the day -- [He taps a pair of red sunglasses hanging from his belt that he always keeps just in case.] -- And I can make out heat signatures.

You know what flows here like wine

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