Though unusual for the blond to do, that evening he hadn’t recieved any calls for body retrieval. Having embalmbed bodies and prepared for upcoming funeral services, Garridan found himself with an evening free of obligations. While he would have stayed home and read a book, he’d needed a change of pace (and novel, too).
Venturing into town on foot, the vampire seamlessly blended into the crowd. He never stood out, for he never brought unnecessary attention. Though his outfits were naturally dark and broody, he still looked relatively “normal” to navigate the busy streets, minding his business. It wasn’t until he noticed the book store he’d anticipated visiting had been closed down for the evening, and a momentary pout found its way onto the vampire’s face. So much for a new romance novel…
At that, Garridan figured he may as well attempt to enjoy the time he had, and he simply walked about main street, arms wrapped around his body. Overhearing the conversations of strangers, the various scents of supernaturals and humans intermingling within the air–it provided him a chance to people-watch. He didn’t necessarily enjoy socializing much, but there was always an underlying interest in watching the world from an outsider’s perspective.
Humanity was beautiful, despite its flaws, and witnessing tender moments such as friends rejoicing or lovers holding hands provided Garridan a sense of clarity. It was also vastly different, having been surrounded by corpses most of his life. Besides, many had chastised Garridan for his recluse habits, and this proved to be a small step in the right direction.
Or so Garridan had anticipated being alone, up until he accidentally bumped into someone and immediately jumped to apologizing profusely. Averting their gaze, he found himself reverting back into his usually anxious-self.
“Ah–I’m so sorry, I…I happened to be distracted, I truly didn’t mean to…are you alright-? I’m terrible sorry…”
A colliding thud barely earned any movement from his, but the creeping smile that rose over his lips grew slightly more wide and prominent as he raised his response. “Yeah laddie, don’t worry yourself over it. Nothin’ more than a wee bump in the morn’.” His eyes didn’t raise to meet the other man’s, instead they hung low as if wrestling with some unseen force there on the ground at their feet. “Hey, can I ask you something? Man to man? What do you do when... When you’re not sure if you really were the man everyone is always telling you you are? Is there some sort of... ‘right’ answer for this - this... feeling of ... misplaced identity? You know? It’s like... like there’s the you everyone gets to see and then there’s this... Other you, that... is nothing like the man everyone expects you to be? It’s sort of like... sitting in the passenger seat of your own life?” Realizing he just unloaded the full magazine of his pent up anxiety thoughts to this total stranger he blinked once or twice before finally meeting the other’s eyes.
“Sorry, forget I said anything. Name’s Lucent, you can call me Lucky if you prefer, but I swear on me mum, you call me Lucy and I’ll have to take some teeth fer the trouble.”
He almost half-heartedly raised a gloved hand towards the other. “Me and me shoulder appreciate the wakeup call, probably would been sittin’ theres for a while if ye hadn’t knocked me like ye did.” The light breeze that blew through his long hair only seemed to add to the curious visage the man kept about him. He drew forth one of his many black, green and gold embroidered business cards and offered it forward to the other male. “I run the newest business here in Tabula. You should swing by sometime, can always guarantee that your time will be well spent with us. Who knows, if you’re feelin’ a little lucky we could even head there later this evening?”
Knowing better now than to go into the woods after Elidi and her were attacked, Kiki found herself looking for new places to explore. On this particular night she found herself in a more worn down part of Tabula. She didn’t mind however and found it to be quite fascinating to see a different side of the place she now called her home. It was nighttime and the wiccan was trying to be very cautious of her surroundings, knowing that trouble could lurk at any corner. So far the area seemed to be eerily quiet but it didn’t bother Kiki one bit. That’s why when she heard a soft mew while walking past one of what seemed to be an abandoned building she stopped.
Standing still she waited to see if maybe her mind was playing tricks on her. But once again she heard another mew. Now walking up to the broken down wooden door of the entrance, she pressed her palm against it and gently pushed. It creaked open showing what seemed to be a void into pitch blackness. Once again she heard the mewing, not only was it much louder but sounded panicked. Pulling out her cell she turned on her phones flashlight. “Whoa...” this wasn’t her first time in an abandoned building but this was much larger than any she’s explored before. Scattered furniture littered the main entrance. Moving her phone around she noted a staircase and more doors, some missing that led to other rooms.
Carefully stepping around objects that laid on the floor she made her way further into the building, stopping only when she heard that the meowing was coming from up the staircase. They didn’t look sturdy at all but if there really was a cat up there or any animal in trouble she wouldn’t forgive herself if she just left. She placed her foot on the first step and slowly pressed her body weight on it. “Please don’t break...” she muttered to herself as she descended up the frail staircase. Holding her breath until she finally reached the top and sighing softly, she knew that the top floor could be dangerous as well. Shining the light she noted that the meowing was getting louder, walking down the hallway she stopped at the last room. That was where the noise was coming from, pushing open the door the wiccan shone her light around the room. By the way the walls were painted pink and the floor was littered in broken or dirty toys she guessed this had been a little girls room. “I wonder what happened....” noticing rustling from the corner of her eye she turned and gasped softly. Curled up in the corner of the room by a broken window was a small black kitten. Walking over she knelt down and used her free hand to scoop the animal up in her arms. “Hi there....you are so adorable!” She gushed, the wiccan had been wanting to get a cat but her apartment didn’t allow pets.
Maybe this was fate? Holding the cat close to her chest she began walking back down the hallway. Her light shining on the floor so she could make sure not to misstep. While walking she sees something that looks wet on the floor? Red liquid. Her eyes trail where it’s coming from and lands one of the doors to a room that’s creaked open. A chill ran down her spine as her curiosity got the best of her. Maybe it was an injured animal? Maybe the kittens mother? She gently kicked her now bloody shoe against the door fully opening it and she drops her phone in shock. “Fuck!” In the middle of the room laid a body, that’s where the red liquid was seeping from. She snatches her phone back up and wipes the blood off with her shirt. “Hey are you okay?!” She keeps the kitten secure in her arm as she kneels down and examines the body. A knife handle was sticking out of his chest and by the looks of his torn shirt he had been stabbed several times. Reaching out she pressed her hand against his neck, no pulse. But blood was still coming from his body which meant that he had to have been recently killed? She feels her entire body freeze as she hears someone else’s footsteps. In a panic she darts for the closet and quickly turns off her phone flashlight. The kitten squirming in her arms as she tries to keep it still.
Knowing better now than to go into the woods after Elidi and her were attacked, Kiki found herself looking for new places to explore. On this particular night she found herself in a more worn down part of Tabula. She didn’t mind however and found it to be quite fascinating to see a different side of the place she now called her home. It was nighttime and the wiccan was trying to be very cautious of her surroundings, knowing that trouble could lurk at any corner. So far the area seemed to be eerily quiet but it didn’t bother Kiki one bit. That’s why when she heard a soft mew while walking past one of what seemed to be an abandoned building she stopped.
Standing still she waited to see if maybe her mind was playing tricks on her. But once again she heard another mew. Now walking up to the broken down wooden door of the entrance, she pressed her palm against it and gently pushed. It creaked open showing what seemed to be a void into pitch blackness. Once again she heard the mewing, not only was it much louder but sounded panicked. Pulling out her cell she turned on her phones flashlight. “Whoa…” this wasn’t her first time in an abandoned building but this was much larger than any she’s explored before. Scattered furniture littered the main entrance. Moving her phone around she noted a staircase and more doors, some missing that led to other rooms.
Carefully stepping around objects that laid on the floor she made her way further into the building, stopping only when she heard that the meowing was coming from up the staircase. They didn’t look sturdy at all but if there really was a cat up there or any animal in trouble she wouldn’t forgive herself if she just left. She placed her foot on the first step and slowly pressed her body weight on it. “Please don’t break…” she muttered to herself as she descended up the frail staircase. Holding her breath until she finally reached the top and sighing softly, she knew that the top floor could be dangerous as well. Shining the light she noted that the meowing was getting louder, walking down the hallway she stopped at the last room. That was where the noise was coming from, pushing open the door the wiccan shone her light around the room. By the way the walls were painted pink and the floor was littered in broken or dirty toys she guessed this had been a little girls room. “I wonder what happened.…” noticing rustling from the corner of her eye she turned and gasped softly. Curled up in the corner of the room by a broken window was a small black kitten. Walking over she knelt down and used her free hand to scoop the animal up in her arms. “Hi there….you are so adorable!” She gushed, the wiccan had been wanting to get a cat but her apartment didn’t allow pets.
Maybe this was fate? Holding the cat close to her chest she began walking back down the hallway. Her light shining on the floor so she could make sure not to misstep. While walking she sees something that looks wet on the floor? Red liquid. Her eyes trail where it’s coming from and lands one of the doors to a room that’s creaked open. A chill ran down her spine as her curiosity got the best of her. Maybe it was an injured animal? Maybe the kittens mother? She gently kicked her now bloody shoe against the door fully opening it and she drops her phone in shock. “Fuck!” In the middle of the room laid a body, that’s where the red liquid was seeping from. She snatches her phone back up and wipes the blood off with her shirt. “Hey are you okay?!” She keeps the kitten secure in her arm as she kneels down and examines the body. A knife handle was sticking out of his chest and by the looks of his torn shirt he had been stabbed several times. Reaching out she pressed her hand against his neck, no pulse. But blood was still coming from his body which meant that he had to have been recently killed? She feels her entire body freeze as she hears someone else’s footsteps. In a panic she darts for the closet and quickly turns off her phone flashlight. The kitten squirming in her arms as she tries to keep it still.
Eerie and bleak like the way his soul always seemed to feel, the night held within it’s expanse a heavy fog and the formations of morning dew. His nostrils breathed deep, inhaling every trace of a scent in the air. It really did smell different here in the states. Like there was electricity in the air, or perhaps some sort of pathogen that was slowly affecting them all, driving them deeper and deeper into their sedentary lifestyles. He despised nights like this and the groggy, muggy feeling that came along with the humid air. Admittedly it had already left him predisposed towards ignoring and maneuvering around absolutely anyone that crossed his path on his way to the meeting spot.
As sick as it might sound to someone else, he was looking forward to this; to the moment he would deliver his justice to one of the sick sons of bitches who called Tabula home. Very much the vigilante, Lucent had figured out about a child trafficking ring that was being operated in the shadows. Some new group in town not worth the sweat off the brows of the people who claimed to be in charge of the city. Or maybe it was just that they had been allowing this sort of activity? He couldn’t be sure, but he did know one thing for certain; Anyone doing anything this close to his territory without his explicit permission added their own name on his big bloody list. A list that not a single soul ever should want to be on. This list consisted of people Lucent identified as enemies, threats or otherwise undesirable by his standards.
Clinton Beuregard, or as his friends liked to call him ‘Big Beu’ - was one such name. Added to his list long before he ever came to Tabula and now they had finally got the bastard. Snooping around the house of one of the little girls he kidnapped a week before, luckily he and his boys had gotten to the warehouse they were using to distribute the young girls they abducted and shut the entire thing down. Of course, the cops were claiming all the credit and none of the bloodstains as fucking usual. He didn’t give a damn about that though, he wasn’t out to be some kind of hero. He was only out to make sure that nobody in the arms of his new city would ever feel the way he did on the steps of that stranger’s house back when he wasn’t able to even walk. It was his calling in life. To not only give those like himself hope, but a place they could truly call home.
That’s why he had to do it... and he had to make it personal. This had to be a message for all the sick, sadistic fuckers out there that think they can just do what they want without recourse. There was a new form of order in the town and he believed in dealing justice up close and personal. His head and shoulders weaved in and out of the passersby like the flow of a stream through it’s banks, avoiding even the slightest bit of contact without paying any mind to where he stepped. He came to the randown area that bordered his territory and made his way to the location his boys sent to his cell. Two suppressed USP45′s laid tucked neatly into their holsters beneath the coat of his suit and overtop the NTEC ballistics vest he wore beneath his undershirt. He knew he wouldn’t need the guns unless the other man had one as well, and god did he hope this bastard was as stupid as he was sloppy. For a split second the tremors racked his body, riding like a wave up the back of his spine until the chills settled into the base of his skull, rolling his neck he nodded.
“Right you fucker, Let’s see how tough you are against someone your own size.” He slid his four leaf clover knuckledusters onto his digits and gave them a wriggle. Then balled his fist so tight he could feel the pads swell and as he approached the front door, he leaned all of his weight into his kick; slamming the door off it’s hinges and sending the man inside falling backwards out of his chair. The look on his eyes spelled pure fear, unrelenting waves of terror washed over his features in shock, anger and then - there it was - Realization. Next came the bartering.
“Please, please lucky I-I-I I can pay you for th- hrrrrk!” Jet black dress shoes stomped clear on his throat to silence him before delivering a rough kick to his knees.
“You think this is about money? You stupid fu-” He combed his fingers through his hair and stepped off the man; completely turning his back to him and making a gesture for the man to pick himself up off the floor. “Face it like a man, at least then you can die with a pinch of dignity.”
“You cocky little shi-” The larger man got up and immediately charged, a horrible decision after just being dropped flat and deprived of air. Lucky didn’t so much as flinch, the man made it maybe two or three steps and then collapsed, clutching his side as crimson leaked out from a small stab wound in his side.
The floored man’s features were falling back into shock, the loss of blood registering inside of his body no doubt. It would be then that the redhead would click his left heel and retract the small blade that protruded from the tip of his shoe. He leaned over the man and picked him up, the man tried to swing at him only to get caught with the curved edge of his Karambit, the talon shaped knife slid right under the mans armpit and dug deep, the gushes of cherry red liquid let him know he hit his mark - The Axillary to Subclavian in a single stab. This man would be dead in a matter of minutes now and would be completely incapable of moving his arm at all. “Where’d you take her? Crawl there. Crawl there and beg me to stop like they all did!” For once he let his emotions boil over, he let them take control for a fraction of a second and everything went black.
The next thing he saw, was the body underneath him with his blade drove straight into the man’s skull. Then came the sounds of a kitten’s mew and the back door creaking open. Instinctively he let a hand roam to his pistol at it’s holster and slinked back into the darkest corner of the room. The only entrance to this room was off to his right. The body wasn’t moving at all, but still leaking. His heart began to race and already his mind flicked between his options.
Fight or Flight?
Just as he gripped his pistol tighter the figure of a thin young woman emerged, her voice almost altering the atmosphere of the building’s interior. He held his breath as she came in and slowed his heartbeat. She went over and... asked if the body was okay? Then things went from bad to worse. Another set of footsteps began coming towards the room. ‘SHIT! Bastard wasn’t alone afterall. And now there was this woman here... Aggggh. Stuff it. He couldn’t just let the lass get roped up in his affairs like this... least of all when she seemed to be innocent and even taking a fondness to the recently orphaned cat. The kind of person he felt alright with risking his own life for. Not the average run of the mill Tabula Trash, but something... unique. She hid in the closet. Good. He hoped that meant she wouldn’t see what he was about to do to this other figure. He despised it when first impressions were ruined with work.
This second man came in and walked straight past him in the dark corner, just as the woman had and just as he stepped into view; he moved towards the body and knelt down muttering to himself before growing louder and louder. Then a bonechilling sound wrang out from the closet. The feintest mew of concern from the cat in the woman’s arms. The second man turned to the closet and hollered, raising a pistol of his own to the closet. “WHO THE FUCK’S IN THERE?!? YOU BETTER COME OUT RIGHT FUCKIN’ NOW OR I’M UNLOA-” then two puffs of air and the ring of a suppressor zipped into the back of his skull. Sending red spatters over the closet doors followed by the heavy thud of a second body.
He tried to think of the best way to put someone at ease after seeing what they just did, but all that came to mind was; “Are you alright, lass? It’s safe now. You can come out... just... give me a sec.” He ran around a bit and found something to throw over the bodies. He made no motions to hide his identity from her at all. After all, who would believe her if she ever tried to put a name to his face? He had connections all over the globe that could make little... mishaps like this disappear. If she would step out of the closet, she would be met with two kind and hopefully comforting eyes. Eyes, that seemed to plead for her forgiveness.
What’s the best / worst practical joke that you’ve played on someone or that was played on you?
A visible recoil rose through the redheaded male’s body at the question, “Well ye see... My joke all sorta ‘ave a way of goin’ awry. I uh, once found out about one o’ the boys ‘avin’ a fling with this girl that worked at the local waterin’ ‘ole. Pretty lass, but not real bright ya know? Anyways, the lad had a story goin’ to keep this lass off ‘is tail whilst the boys were doin... whatever us boys do. Turns out every time we went out ‘e told ‘is lass that ‘e was goin’ to work on some cars. -
Anyways, skippin’ te the messy bit. We figured out that our lad was eh... flaking out on us both. He’d dip on the boys an’ tell us ‘e was with the lass and ditch her tellin’ the little lady that he was with us. Wasn’t with neither. So after this shakedown goes on fer long enough, we decide its time to bust ‘im on ‘is ass a bit for skippin’ out on the work the rest o’ us been gettin’ done. ‘Eres what we do.
We stage a fake hit on his girl, Some real nasty work. Sim round and blood bags ontop of a kevlar vest. Me an the boys were all sittin’ at the park when he comes runnin’ up to us with ‘er in ‘is ‘ands. Freakin’ the hell out, askin’ the boys where we were when the goons came for ‘im. Just as he breaks down sobbin, the last gives him a damn good slapper te’ the cheek. Hell hath no fury like a woman ditched for the boys. Learn ya somethin’ from this right lads? Don’t tangle with a woman who ain’t willing to live the life yer’ livin’ and ne’er turn your back on the boys.”
“Oh? Me? Ain’t much to tell really. Not a whole lotta tricks in these sleeves, just business and a few odd things here and there. Though there was this one time back ‘ome where me an’ the boys got into a scrap? Beat a man unconscious with an oboe. Don’t ask, it was self defense.” A light shrug was all he gave them after his confession.
Lucky prefers table games. As the owner of his own Casino, Lucky is completely aware of how slot machines work on random number generators. You can’t trick, deceive or fake-out a slot machine. People though? Lucky was an absolute master when it came to manipulating people like puppets on strings. He has never lost a hand of any given table card game.
*Bonus: Lucky was a cardshark growing up, he cheated and scammed many, many businesses out of small fortunes all without ever raising any suspicious brows. He could probably nick your wallet while bumping your shoulder. Supernatural or otherwise.
If a genie granted Lucent three wishes, what would they be?
If Lucky were to be granted three wishes (presumably with the ability to grant any wish) his wishes would be:
1: Complete Immortality/Impervious to Death
2: The ability to rewrite history.
3: A family that truly loved him.
Out of the characters in TR who would your character: Marry/Friend/Kill?
(So far Lucent has not become particularly close with anyone so I will answer this with a bit of writer preference on character types I think Lucky would best place into those categories.)
Marry: Hmmm... This would have to be someone Lucky trusted not only with his industry and economic standing, but his social and political appearance as well as his very life. Lucky has not in writing made a connection with anyone that would even come close to warranting marriage but some plausible options based purely on character traits would be: Gar, Kas, Meg, Kiki or really anyone that Lucky could observe as a nurturing and uplifting soul. He has lived most of his life pulling himself up from the rubble of the things he ruins, he would need someone that could balance out all that self-loathing within his heart with self-less caring and consideration.
Friend: Lucky is at least on the surface, willing to befriend everyone and anyone he may have a use for whether that use be interior, exterior or ulterior would almost certainly remain an unknown. Some examples would be: Stan, Gar, Tamryn, or any powerful magicka.
Kill: Oh this is the easy one. Anyone that jeopardizes his profit margins or disrespects him in a blatant or observable way. Lucky runs on very cut-throat ideology that has been instilled deep into his being by the events of his rough and tumble upbringing.
An unfamiliar accent rang in the undead man’s ears; to which he raised a brow and looked over towards the fiery-looking red-head. A man he hadn’t seen within these streets, but he looked somewhat familiar. Ah, yes–Stanislav knew very well who this man was–to which he gave a dip of his head, a sign of acknowledgement. The vampire wasn’t one for handshakes anyhow, despite his tendency to be polite. After all, Stanislav hadn’t even dared to shake the hands of his colleagues on board with the LSA.
“Ah, procuring some stones…I haven’t given it much thought; though I do find them to be particularly intriguing.” His gaze affixed to the stones once more; though he did pick up a stone, examining it before placing it back to where he had found it. “I wouldn’t consider myself an expert by any means, I’m afraid my recommendations would be mediocre at best.”
He turned his head once more, almost as if eyeing the other male a bit more closely. Though he hadn’t any doubts about his revelation towards this man’s identity, it wasn’t until he introduced himself wherein his hues reflected a recognition–despite his stoic choice of expression–and he merely nodded in agreement. Though he couldn’t partake in that of liquor, it would be interesting to indulge in conversation with the globally recognized human so nearby.
“Yes, you looked quite familiar, Mister Lachlan.” Though the red-head had introduced himself quite casually, it simply wasn’t within the vampire king’s nature to disregard formality so soon. “So it seems your business endeavors have allocated to that of our city. In that case, I extend a welcome. I couldn’t help but notice the construction, though I’m afraid I haven’t been able to investigate just yet. I have noted your offer, and find myself wishing to accept.” He let out a slight chuckle.
“An establishment belonging to one such as yourself might add a bit of flavour into our already diverse city.”
Mister Lachlan ... He could get used to the ring of that. Perhaps he should have been having his employees address him in a formal manner like this all along? He thought the family dynamic would help keep his lessers more amicable to his ambitions if they felt they were a part of it all. It almost detracted from the fact this man just refused to shake his hand, almost. Before the rehead’s eyes seemed to meander about the other male’s features without any real purpose or intent, but now they flicked straight to the male’s pupils. He withdrew his hand and promptly dusted it off on the opposite breast of his suit, then took the thing off and held it over his shoulder by it’s coathanger strap. The motion on the surface didn’t look like much, but to an Irishman, this was no different than directly saying the man was dirty enough to warrant the removal of his coat, like rank, muggy weather in the middle of summer’s heat.
This motion seemed to gain the attention of several other men scattered throughout the store, pairs of deep black shades began observing the two men as they conversed. Thought the following motions would betray any detail of malfeasance beneath the guise of a jolly and coy remark. “It is rather shite weather for a handshake. How’s this then?” He rocked back on his heels away from the male and drew from the breast-pocket of his black button up, a small gold and silver card and with all of the cheek and gall of an Irishman who has never once been put in his place, flicked the small card at an angle. The small piece of material caught the updraft in the store, and glided it’s way effortlessly into the pocket of his slacks. “That there’s got all me contact info on it, as well as directions to the casino - had some magi-folk whip up a little thingy that acts like a GPS. Te’ make sure ye’ don’t get lost on yer way to the best joint in town.” How a man could manage to be so carefree while intruding upon someone’s personal space in such a way was a wonder, but regardless he seemed relatively unmoved by his own actions.
Raising a finger as if to catch his own attention in mid-flight, he raised the only question that really mattered when first meeting a person that showed disrespect. A name, something to tie the face to so that he’d remember it for the inevitability of their next crossing. “It’s hardly fair if ye know who I am an’ I don’t rightly know who you are. Ye’ got a name, ser?” He couldn’t help but think to himself, or just a really rude ass look on yer smug gab? “And please, ye’ can call me Lucky. Me ol’ man’d roll in ‘is grave if ‘e ‘eard ye callin’ me that.”
Such a dreary Friday, damp from constant rainfall and spark filled with lightning. For Elidi, she was right in her element. While on days like this, she’d usually take the time to train, today she decided to visit the shops, Little Shoppe of Wonders in particular. Her plants had been looking a little neglected, her various herbs running low. Besides, there was always some new arbitrary trinket to find.
A quick teleportation spell delivers her to the shops front door, nearly bumping into someone in the process. “Jesus, sorry.” She excuses herself as she slips inside, her concern diverted immediately to the gems and crystals section. Nervously she bites the nail on her thumb, knowing very well that she does not need another stone. “One can never have too much jewelry.” The witch exempted herself with a shrug as she approached the rack, freshly distracted as soon as she neared. A large amber sphere immediately called to her and with the most delicate care it is set into her basket.
Finally, the real reason she came. Elidi stood in front of the various greenery, eyeing the eucalyptus plants. Paying no real attention to who she was speaking to, her head tilted as she spoke to the individual, “Do you think I should get.. the potted plant, or the hanging one?”
A busy day for the Irishman had only given way to a more cramped and scatterbrained morning. Having already sent most of his staff and guards off to gather more things or post more fliers for his casino left the man to his own devices to find a very specific set of items that would best ensure the function and facilitation of his business with as little complications as possible. His mother was no stranger to using things like sage, herbs, crystals and the like to secure the family home when he was a young boy so the traditions stuck with him.
Walking while remembering, a crime the man was guilty of time and time again. He managed to be lucky enough to lean his shoulder out of the way of a proper-looking woman. Instinctively he gave a look over his shoulder and turned, not being a big believer in coincidence he decided to peep in at the store she entered. Both hands tucked deep into his pockets, he weaved past the door as it closed behind her. Gliding his way around the store on his polished loafers, he was surprised at first by the sheer amount of stock this store carried. He’d even heard that little line she dropped while browsing - a woman with a thing for jewelry - something he’d keep note of in the event that she would ever prove to need a gift in the future. Always wary of the ever encircling opportunities this town offered, he sprung when she called out for a bit of input.
“Honestly, I know this lass, interior decorator - She told me when I was buying my plants recently that they offer different status symbols. Hanging plants indicate regality and superiority whereas a potted plant details simplicity and elegance. Of course, if you are of a particularly refined taste you could always get both?” His smile was cocked and loaded, brandished like a firearm in the event the woman would turn to him.
The young wiccan was on a nightly stroll, she enjoyed basking in the moonlight and watching the twinkle of the stars as they lit up the dark sky. She had earbuds in her ears and seemed to be humming whatever song was playing through them. She had absolutely no sense of her surroundings and somehow found herself walking into the woods. She was always someone who loved nature so it wasn’t surprising that her feet had led her into the trees.
The young wiccan was on a nightly stroll, she enjoyed basking in the moonlight and watching the twinkle of the stars as they lit up the dark sky. She had earbuds in her ears and seemed to be humming whatever song was playing through them. She had absolutely no sense of her surroundings and somehow found herself walking into the woods. She was always someone who loved nature so it wasn’t surprising that her feet had led her into the trees.
His lungs breathed easier in the night air, something about the dim lighting and cooler settings offered him a modicum of comfort that the heat of the sun did not. Being of relatively fair skin and pale complexion, he burnt within a single hour of direct sunlight. Idly patrolling the outer limits of his resort grounds became a sort of late night hobby of his, though he rarely ever stumbled upon company whilst out in the woods. Tonight however, it seemed he would be lucky enough to be graced with the presence of another. Still a ways off when he raised a hand to her so that she could be alerted to his presence easier in the night’s scarce light. “ ‘Ow’re ye’ doin’ tonight ma’am? Funny time fer us te’ be out strollin’ aye?” His light chuckle hopefully would disarm the woman of any hostility she could’ve adopted in response. He pointed a bit deeper into the trees to his property’s clearing. “Got the time te’ give me yer honest opinion on somethin’? See that clover’n’pot o’er there? Think it should stand straight up, or be a little silly and tilted?” His casino’s emblem was in question, being carefully placed along the front of his largest building.
Another night, ample opportunity.
Stanislav awoke, confined within the darkness of his bedroom. Glancing over at his alarm clock, he notes the time. 8 pm. It was time for him to rise, but a heavy weight in his limbs told him to stay underneath the covers, to put off getting out of bed for another fifteen minutes. The vampire’s work ethic tells him otherwise.
Forcing himself up, he reached over to his nightstand and began to check his phone for any missed calls, incoming text messages, emails. Noting that nothing seemed to require his immediate attention, after replying to a few emails he managed to get himself out of bed and freshened himself up.
Finding that Red Rose didn’t require his presence, Stanislav wasn’t quite sure of where to go. Pixie Plates was an unusual place for him to visit, though he could visit The Veil. Maybe he could visit Little Shoppe of Wonders-? It was only to check up on Kiki, who had been released from the Hospital. Though he wasn’t sure if she were on the clock, and he would only go to check up on her. Nothing else.
Driving over to the shop proved to be relatively easy, given Stanislav’s understanding of the nightlife-driven city. He knew every street, every sidewalk…once he parked, the vampire let himself out of his car and closed the door, taking a moment to enjoy the cool evening air.
Letting himself inside of the Magika-dominated space proved to be fairly odd, for he had never really made it his intention to visit. After all, he had no reason for purchasing anything; but the small store offered Stanislav a sense of privacy from being overridden by curious pedestrians.
Looking around, the store seemed relatively empty save for a few people. With that, Stanislav decided to have a look around. His eyes glossed over the various spellbooks, pottery and plants, crystals…even the air seemed to hang with the scent of herbs. Sensing someone else’s nearby presence, the vampire commented, not necessarily expecting a reply.
“An interesting selection of gems, wouldn’t you agree? I’ve heard they have many purposes–though that’s as far as my knowledge goes.”
A quaint, quiet day had given way to a free schedule for the normally gridlocked man with hair as fiery as his soul. He figured that this was as good a time as any to make his rounds about the city streets and businesses, to spread word of mouth about the newest among them all - and soon to be the most lucrative location in the entirety of their city, The Melting Pot casino and resort. His very own gem here in the land of Louisiana and a place he soon hoped would become a second home to the denizens of the city he now was trying to call home.
The thought of it came across as strange at first, nearly everyone in his organization and circles advised him against building an establishment here in a city full of such... diverse individuals and people from varying walks of life. Yet he ignored them, after all - the people he had met did not make him who he was nor did they ever help make his business decisions. In fact; he may have even been more drawn to this location because of their insistence on it being ‘career suicide’.
It was in the midst of this mocking jaunt down memory lane that a voice seemed to speak from just off to his right. Adopting a welcoming smile and warmer eyes, he gave a light nod before letting his accent brazenly grip the other’s ears,
“Right big rocks them be, came ‘eres for the wardin’ stones me’self though ser.” He held in his offhand two smooth stones with holes in their centers. Rocks believed to ward off bad intentions and evil spirits mainly by deeply gaelic peoples. Adjusting his stature a bit, rotating his shoulders back while his soft smile remained there for the other - he took a much more curious position. “But if yer recommendin’, who am I te’ argue wit ye?” his free hand pointed to a few of the gems the other man noted before adding them to his selection of items to be purchased.
He had almost moved past the man when his better business sense kicked in. One hand on his cart, he did a little shimmy backwards before stopping and speaking up a bit more. “By the way, Name’s Lucky - new in town. That big mess of construction been goin’ on fer a while?” He makes an accused/apologetic face with his hands up a bit cheekily, “My bad. Figured I’d spice up the livin’ ‘eres with a bit o’... chance and charm from back ‘ome. Swing by lad, Maybe we can exchange advice on what kinds of drinks’re good out ‘ere next time?” The man practically radiated his charismatic glow on the other.
Lucent "Lucky" Lachlan @xnotsolucky - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
