Working man [Open to multiple]

[vlad_dracul]

Once Dracula learned that the soil of this land would give him sleep, he set to work. He had no desire to become involved in the conflict between ROMAC and the rebels, particularly with such scant information. Fortunately, his actual needs were simple. He needed blood, easily supplied by the rats and vermin of the city. He also needed a place to sleep. Well, sleeping in a coffin, even one occupied, was something he had done before, when necessary.

He preferred a comfortable house or apartment, though. For that, he needed money. He had a small bit of gold in the lining of his jacket, a holdover from more dangerous times, but selling the gold would probably draw more attention than he wanted. Dracula needed a way to earn some honest money. He refused to stoop to crime, especially theft, which he despised. Fortunately, this city, even more than others, had a criminal underbelly willing to cater to those in need of new identities. After earning a small amount of money doing odd jobs, Dracula was able to get enough identification to get a job...at least in places that didn't check backgrounds too carefully.

Now, Dracula is gainfully employed as a bouncer at Wilmot's End. His job includes breaking up fights, preferably before they begin, and making sure minors don't sneak up onto the second floor. Dracula goes back and forth between the floors, making sure the clientele can see him clearly. Wilmot's End has a reputation for not tolerating trouble and Dracula has not hurt that reputation at all. He wears the uniform of black jeans and a black button up shirt well. It's an easy job and Dracula rather enjoys it, even if it is somewhat menial. Ah well. He's developing a solid reputation and gets along with most people.

Even on busy nights, Dracula tries to find time to talk with the clientele. The more they know him and the friendlier the relations are, the easier it is to get people to listen and cooperate. He's always willing to chat for a bit.

Comments

[June 5]

[fucking_ebay]

Peter's not sure when his life went to hell.

Scratch that, he can name several occasions. What he's not sure of is why Lucy went from whatever she was to him to some crazy woman he hardly sees. Not that he wants to see her if she's going to bite his neck and give him blue balls first thing in the morning. That had been the same morning Gabe took away most of his liquor, leaving Peter with only a few bottles he feels inclined to save. Or, alright, he'd started feeling inclined to save them after powering through another one and seeing just how few are left.

He slips into Wilmot's End, not sure what he's looking for beyond a drink. Maybe nothing. The bartender eyes him and makes a silent motion to the bouncer that Peter doesn't see as he sits down at the end of the bar. Peter has a history of wheedling and mooching; him showing up without someone who's been known to actually pay usually means he'll try to beg for a drink or harass someone else into buying one for him. Today he has a bit of money, but that might be a first for him in this bar.

[vlad_dracul]

Dracula gives the bartender a brief nod and approaches Peter. He wears a polite, somewhat friendly smile. He's still getting to know the regulars and he doesn't want to cost the place any business. Fortunately, the bartender helps by giving small signs about certain people. Dracula doesn't recognize the other man, so decided an introduction is in order.

"Good evening. Welcome to Wilmot's End."

[fucking_ebay]

Peter glances at the guy who's come up by him, then at the bartender who hasn't come over to take his order yet. "Welcome yourself," he replies gruffly, not minding that it doesn't make sense. "I'm not doing anything wrong."

[vlad_dracul]

"No, you're not and I appreciate that," Dracula agrees, amused. "I try to introduce myself to the clientele, particularly anyone who might be a regular. I'm Matthew Maule."

[fucking_ebay]

"Peter Vincent." Something about the name tugs at his memory, but in the moment he can't quite place it. He doesn't recognize the guy, so he dismisses it for now. "First time I've seen you here. What are you, the new welcoming committee?"

[vlad_dracul]

"I'm the new bouncer, at least," Dracula agrees, mildly. "I haven't seen you before, either, but you seem quite at home, here."

There aren't many mirrors in Wilmot's End, but there are surfaces capable of reflecting enough to show an image. Dracula is careful, usually, of these surfaces and how he stands in front of them. However, a passing waitress happens to be carrying a silver serving platter that is shiny from a recent cleaning. As she strolls by, Peter and Dracula should both be reflected, if hazily, but only Peter appears.

[fucking_ebay]

That figures. Peter figured he was something like that when he came over and started horning in instead of the bartender coming to tend to him. He rolls his eyes, but something catches his attention. It's just visible for a fleeting second, gone quick enough to make Peter question whether he saw it at all, but his instincts go on alert. His gaze flicks after the departing waitress, but it's too late, he can no longer see his own reflection.

It was probably nothing.

It might have been his imagination.

"Been here a couple times," he says cautiously. "If they've sent you to kick me out, I have money this time."

[vlad_dracul]

"Not at all," Dracula assures him. "Please stay and enjoy your drinks. I merely find it helpful to know the clientele and to have them know me."

He places a hand briefly on Peter's shoulder, his skin cooler than that most people.

[fucking_ebay]

Peter tenses under the hand, giving away his unease with how he shifts away from even the brief touch. Who is this creep to make him afraid when he came here to drink and forget Lucy his problems, anyway? "Going to tell me what you are, then?" he asks, suddenly bold.

[June 7th]

[jennifer_strange]

It's not unusual for Jennifer to spend a little time at Wilmot's End on a Friday evening. It's a nice way to unwind after a week of work, and it gives Aglet some extra time to poke around the flat and 'borrow' things. And regardless of how busy it is, the Beast guarantees that she'll get a little table to herself. Even when it's curled up and placidly dozing, most people give the creature a wide berth.

It's a little past happy hour, and the place is starting to get a bit busier. That's her cue to leave. Most of the regulars just avoid the Beast, but that won't be an option for everyone if it gets much more crowded than it currently is, and she doesn't want to cause a panic.

Normally the Beast is on its best behavior, but perhaps it smells something interesting, or catches sight of something worth investigating. Whatever the reason, while Jennifer is packing away her book and fishing some change out of her bag, it slips its leash and starts to trot up the stairs to the second floor. Jennifer hastily slaps a tip down on the table and rushes after it in an awkward crouch, making repeated grabs for the creature's collar. "Get back here!" she hisses, making a last lunge as the Beast nears the top of the stairs. Finally, her fingers close around its collar, and the Beast comes to a halt with a little 'quark' of indignation. "For shame," she murmurs as she clips the leash back on. "You know better."

Re: [June 7th]

[vlad_dracul]

Most of the young adults who frequented Wilmot's End kept to the first floor, as they were supposed to. There were always some, however, almost every night, who wanted to sneak onto the second floor.

They rarely just headed up the stairs, though.

Dracula appears near the stairs, his expression pleasant, but firm. He shakes his head at the young lady and her...pet? Dracula considers, wondering if his afinity with certain animals would extend to this creature. Well, better to deal with the girl, first, and save testing that boundary for if and when it became necessary.

"Young lady, you and your friend are not allowed up here."

[jennifer_strange]

"I know," Jennifer's quick to reassure him as she straightens, leash in hand. "The Beast just got away from me. He's normally better behaved."

The Beast, for its part, blinks up at Dracula and opens its mouth to reveal a truly astonishing number of fangs. "Quark," it offers.

[vlad_dracul]

"I understand," Dracula tells her, then kneels down, when the Beast speaks. "He speaks? May I ask what he is? I've never seen such an animal before!"

[jennifer_strange]

"Well, he says 'quark,'" Jennifer says as the Beast blinks up at them cheerfully. "He's a Quarkbeast. They're one of my universe's nonevolutionary animals." That's a bit more than she'd normally share with a stranger, but at least this man isn't screaming. Well, anyone who works here probably sees more than their fair share of weirdness, given that it's such a rifty hotspot.

[vlad_dracul]

"Your world sounds intriguing," Dracula muses, staring into the quarkbeast's eyes. "How intelligent is he? Are they often companions to humans?"

[jennifer_strange]

"That's one word for it," Jennifer mutters under her breath. In a more conversational tone, she adds, "It's difficult to say for certain, but he seems quite intelligent to me - moreso than a dog, anyway." His last question is trickier, if only because she really doesn't want to give anyone the idea that the Beast isn't a suitable pet. Playing it off as a companion animal is the only reason she's been able to keep it. "They aren't popular pets," is what she settles with. "Most people are afraid of them."

Panting cheerfully, the Quarkbeast demonstrates why. Well, it's not the Beast's fault that it looks like a velociraptor somehow produced offspring with a blender.

[vlad_dracul]

Dracula can't help grinning.

"Those are some very fine teeth," he praises. "I can see why people get a bit nervous."

He sends out the tiniest thought to the quarkbeast, not to command or control, simply a sense of his own self, in a sort of greeting.

[June 8]

[last_of_shadows]

He was hungry. This place...assaulted his senses. It had since he arrived. He had shunned people. Stolen food. All he did was steal food.

Mighty soldier of the Empire, to have fallen so low.

This place had a chance at more food. Better food. The trick was to find a way in. Two days he'd watched the place. Something felt wrong. Something didn't work. Something felt strange. Stranger than this mad little world. It felt wrong, this entire place. Something else even worse. The force screamed at him, even in his weakened state.

But like a wounded beast, hunger drove him onwards. His armor hidden under rags, lightsaber tucked away, he slid down the back wall, aiming for an unguarded door.

Re: [June 8]

[vlad_dracul]

Dracula spies the man, while making his rounds. His own senses were far stronger than the average human's and this place was his to defend. That was, after all, the basic purpose of his employment. Dracula's honor wouldn't allow him to do less than his best.

Stepping outside, Dracula stepped in front of the man.

"What do you want? If you want to buy food or drink, you should use the front door."

Re: [June 8]

[last_of_shadows]

Sithspit. He was truly losing it when even the local muscle could manage such a move on him.

He looked up, haggard face taking in what was...something wrong. He didn't know what. But it smelled wrong. He couldn't figure out why.

"No credits," he said, having no idea what the local currency was called. And also not caring in the slightest. "Stand aside."

Because he'd kill if he had to. He was a soldier, and he had to survive. What was one more dead man?

Re: [June 8]

[vlad_dracul]

"No, I don't think I will. It's my duty to keep trouble out of this place and your manner isn't reassuring," Dracula tells him. "You seem able bodied enough. Why don't you find honest work?"

He's not unsympathetic. If the man proves to have any integrity, Dracula will do what he can to help. Being Catholic, giving alms is a virtue Dracula tries to practice, though he prefers to help people to help themselves.

[June 8]

[last_of_shadows]

There was half a snarl. Desperation as much as anything else. Shame fueled the anger, and the Force curled to him like tendrils. He could feel the power drawing to him.

"I'll show you honest work."

Not a comeback worth anything, but needs must. A hand shot out, revealing a black gauntlet, and he unleashed the force in a pushing thrust, finally standing, and striding forward, a certain pained, raving, desperate darkness in his eyes.

Re: [June 8]

[vlad_dracul]

Dracula's snarl is pure anger. He walks out, shutting the door. Witnesses are not needed, now.

"Very well, if you don't want my help, that is your choice. You will not enter here. We do not permit fighting or theft inside."

He walks slowly forward, ready to transform, if necessary.

Re: [June 8]

[last_of_shadows]

That he understands. In the corps, anger was your strength.

He stepped back, only for a moment, hand dipping down and coming up quickly, sliding the black helmet into place. When the voice came again, it was filtered through the vocal equipment that had instilled fear in trillions.

"Sorry, I don't need 'help' - I need to eat. It's your turn. Stand aside and I'll be on my way. This is your final warning."

And the clothing is, almost casually, tossed aside, revealing the armour in all its glory. Half-starved and half-mad, some routines never died. It still shone, clean and prepared.

"Or I'll cut you into so many parts they'll never find them all."

Re: [June 8]

[vlad_dracul]

Dracula smiles, shaking his head.

"If you merely wanted to eat, you would have accepted my aid. Attack or crawl away, but you are not entering here."

The armor does give him some concern, not for himself, but for the people inside. If he has weapons, it will be more difficult to keep him from harming the breathers inside.