(no subject)

[not_that_count]

There is a lot of noise coming from the door, yelling, screaming, screeching, thunder, and rumbling. Next, The Count stomps through the door wearing the most ridiculous and dated outfit he's ever worn into the Bar.



"I told you to stay home, young lady!" he shouts back through the door as a scream answers him. He slammed the door and grouched his way to the Bar to order a cup of the disgusting synthetic blood.

Comments

[out_on_the_mat]

Charlie is parked at the counter with a beer and a stack of lottery scratchers he's going through.

He pauses to glance up at the newcomer, then does a double-take at the outfit.

Smothering a grin into the neck of his bottle as he takes a pull, he gives the man a nod.

"Hey."

[not_that_count]

"Hello," sniffed the Count.

[out_on_the_mat]

"You, uh, got a big night out planned or something?" It's all Charlie can do not to break into laughter at the man's clothes.

[not_that_count]

"No," growled The Count, "I have the police coming over for a chat this afternoon."

He glanced at the guy next to him, "What are you going to; the local peasant convention?"

[out_on_the_mat]

"The fashion police?" Charlie asks, unable to help himself.

He looked down at himself, a little insulted because he was actually wearing a clean shirt today.

"I'm from America, pal. We don't have peasants."

[not_that_count]

"No, the actual police," said The Count, "And in from my perspective, all of you Americans are peasants."

Yes, he was looking down his nose, and yes he is feeling rather viscous.

[out_on_the_mat]

Charlie cants his head, leaning an elbow on the counter and taking a drink before pointing a finger of the hand holding his beer at the man.

"That's funny, because to all of us you're an asshole."

Yeah, he said it, not much afraid of the pasty-faced weirdo wearing what looks like a lady's bad leather coat.

[not_that_count]

"Ha! HA!," The Count laughed, "I am an evil vampire, peasant, and you think an insult like that would bother me. Believe me I hear worse from my daughter on a regular basis."

He took a swig of the synthetic blood, "Bleh, that's just terrible."

[out_on_the_mat]

"You look like Liberace hit the Goodwill," he counters, keeping up the attitude, but drawing back just a bit when hearing 'vampire'.

"You can't be much yourself if you've got a daughter giving you lip all the time."

[not_that_count]

"And where did you find your clothes, the local dumpster?" asked The Count, "Also, what would you know of raising a daughter? I am sure you skipped out on any spawn you have the minute you made them."

[out_on_the_mat]

A flicker passes over Charlie's expression, there and gone again a moment later, and he takes another drink to dispel it completely.

"Don't you have some chocolate cereal to peddle somewhere?"

[not_that_count]

"No," said The Count, "I don't peddle anything."

The fact that he struck a nerve didn't get past him, that caused him to smile.

[out_on_the_mat]

"Oh, so you're that clown that counts with the other puppets?"

Charlie is starting to get why Father Harman doesn't like vampires.

[not_that_count]

"Ha!" Laughed The Count, "At least I can count."

[out_on_the_mat]

"You wanna keep taking digs at me, huh? I'll put you down for a ten count, see how you like that," Charlie threatens, annoyed now.

"How 'bout you take your little cocktail there and buzz off?"

[not_that_count]

"No, I don't think I will," said The Count, "You see, I've had a really bad day and I am not about to take any crap from anyone, especially a peasant."

He would love to see the guy try.

[out_on_the_mat]

Charlie is itching to do it, he can even imagine throwing a left hook that would deck the guy good.

He's got nothing on the line but pride, though, and he hasn't been pushed far enough to react on that.

Throwing the man a snort, he turns back on his stool and goes back to scratching off his lottery tickets.

"You ain't worth it, you weirdo."

[not_that_count]

The Count shrugged, "My daughter throws better insults than you."

He enjoyed a bit of banter.

[firstorderknight]

Kylo is nursing a glass of water at the bar when the loudmouth enters. Fortunately, he knows nothing of fashion so the outfit is going to get a pass.

"You should be quiet. This is a place for peace." That's his new rule.

[not_that_count]

"Ah, but when dealing with a teenage vampire, one must be stern," said The Count.

Not to mention that was just how things were done in his family. So many dishes broken.

[firstorderknight]

"I wouldn't know." It's not like there are any teenagers in the First Order and if there are, he doesn't have to deal with them. Thankfully.

[not_that_count]

"Lucky you," said The Count before taking a sip of the dreadful fake blood, "That is just wrong."

[firstorderknight]

He barely glances at the other man's drink. "I'm sure it can be fixed."

[not_that_count]

"Alas no," said the Count with a sigh, "Unless I were to find a willing donor, I am stuck with this dreadful fake blood. It gets the job partially done, but it leaves something unsatisfied."

[firstorderknight]

A willing donor? That's not going to be Kylo.

"Why not drink before you come here?"

[not_that_count]

"I try, but having one full gown vampire, and one teenager means less blood to go around," he explains, "And the hunting in Stoakley is just abysmal."

[firstorderknight]

Hunting people may be something they have in common, if for exceedingly different purposes.

"Perhaps you should expand your range."

[not_that_count]

"I have to stay somewhat close tom home, wouldn't want to get caught outside at dawn," said The Count, "I wouldn't be much use as a pile of dust."