it's a dead man's party; leave your body at the door

[fireburned]

So this was interesting. Stigmata would now be invaded by the supernatural sort, which really isn't out of the ordinary, it just tends to change the environment. When Harvestman is involved, it tends to lose things like 'class' and 'dignity', for example

Comments

[pelekus]

"Do you own the place? You act like it." Vampires tend to acquire property, right? She remembers this from past experience, and surveys the (empty?) bar for exits, weapons, and defensible points as she meanders to the alcohol supply.

[fireburned]

Harvestman laughs. "Fuck no, I just come here a lot. They ain't kicked me out yet, and the sort that comes around here tends to be... more varied than me."

He doesn't bother hide what he's doing or drinking, popping it into the microwave before sitting down and taking a sip. Yum, healthy female, around twenty-seven. Better than the stuff he buys, sometimes.

[pelekus]

Laurel, in turns, doesn't bother to hide her curiousity/disgust - it's like watching someone swallow their own hand, or turn their face inside out. There was a time and an age not long ago where she would have flown off the handle here and tried to tear him apart just for being; apathy, and the knowledge it wouldn't work, stop her from doing that now.

"More varied than vampires? No wonder it's fucking deserted." She's not going to question if this vodka (shut up) is free before she acquires it.

[fireburned]

"Not fond of us blood-drinking sort, are you?" Understatement of the year. Despite this, he continues to drink calmly, watching her back with the same interested expression. "Most people don't bother with disliking me until after they get to know me."