WHERE . . . after hours. WHEN . . . the slowest night of the week.
after hours was created with one purpose and one purpose only⸻ oversee the vampric population of lefleur. the revelation had set a flame within the center of a long dead chest. eyes which were never threats before suddenly blaring orange: a predator to a predator, a danger to a danger. it only felt natural to create a controlled space; a sanction which arjun alone could step inside and trust their nature to stay concealed. to a degree, at least. they couldn't shake the sensation of traitors amongst vampires: the greed for miracle blood, the reality of a dog eating other dog ... no where would ever truly be safe again.
and safety, yes even now, quivered as @deadhymn came down the stairs to the pit of the bar. arjun spares but a glance upward. the familiarity of presence and footfall alone revealing to them his identity. " ah, viktor ... vik ! it's been a minute. " they say with a sudden cheeriness which chills rather than warms. hands clasp together in front to add towards the anachronism. " at last you remember i exist. it's been ... weeks, has it not ? " a friend of a friend, a foe of a foe ... arjun wasn't quite sure where to play viktor rousseau. at best they would remember their order and the first place they'd met. and that is exactly what they do : begin preparing his drink as if second nature. " i hope it wasn't my drinks. you know i'm running out of new hobbies to try after so many years. "