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ViceVersus · by **ViceVersus** on Sat Jan 08, 2011 1:41 am

Howdy-hey, everyone! These are just brief chat-log notes of a lulzy scene in the bar written between Cloasse and myself. Enjoy!

Not like it was an entirely uncommon thing, but that Monday afternoon found Fletcher Godeaux hiding behind his counter down in Wing City, at Gambit's Bar.

Alright, he wasn't hiding. He was sort of lurking arms crossed and head down, very involved in what must have been an incredibly important text. If the fangless vampire were actually on duty, or if he were using his status as a bartender just to hide from a certain someone, it wasn't entirely clear.

Three empty bottles of beer surrounded him there, the fourth in his free hand while his thumbs flashed away at his phone. As his last one had been trodden upon by some whimsical, dancing ogre (the reality of that sentence still made him groan) Fletcher was intent on enjoying this new cell for as long as it lasted.

The presence of another bartender there with him made Fletcher's attempt at 'hiding' not entirely effective. But what the casual observer didn't know was that from here, the fangless vampire could drop to the floor and be invisible from the door -- should a certain someone come stamping through.

Jackpot.

Cloasse Galletti meandered through the doorway of Gambit's Bar with a slight amount of hesitation - Fletcher drank beer and beer smelled disgusting. It was not at all pleasant and gave her headaches.

Still, that didn't stop the young Rune Scrit from heading over to the counter, in Fletcher's general direction, with her nose buried in her book. She would, of course, much rather smell the new pages of her new book with that new page/book smell than alcohol.

The vampire noticed Cloasse and gave a cough. It was a small, subtle one. You know, the hey-look-over-here ones. And, of course, it seemed to be ineffective. He tried again.

"Ahem."

Now Fletcher gave that second syllable a little more pop. Still, Cloasse didn't look up from her text. Glancing from the front door, to his phone, to the young Rune Scrit -- Fletcher tried one last ditch-all effort.

"Holy crap is that Geddes Vogler giving out signed books and authentic .. pajama robes?"

Fletcher's ruse had the desired effect, for Cloasse's head lifted from her book at a startling pace.

"Pajama robes..? Couldn't you have come up with something far more realistic, Fletcher? If you had just left it at the books, it would've worked..."

Cloasse tutted, giving a slow, falsely sorrowful shake of her head as she went to take a seat opposite the unactive bartender.

"Hello, Fletcher Godeaux," she smiled.

"The pajamas are legit. I don't know what else to call the white-things he wears," Fletcher flailed his arms in what he imagined to be pantomime for 'mage robes', "anyways, look. I need to tell you something, something really important that needs to be kept on the DL."

The vampire paused.

"That means -- that means on the down-low. The D and the L .. never mind."

He scooched closer to her, and glanced slate-gray eyes once more up at the door.

"Someone's gonna come busting in here pretty soon, wanting my ass handed to them on a golden platter. Since we're such fine, good, great, awesome and brilliant friends -- you're going to be like -- hey! No, I don't know a Fletcher Godeaux! Can you do that? That's your line, alright? Here, we'll practice. Okay?"

Fletcher took a few steps away from her, puffed his chest up and obviously pretended to be something that was .. that was supposed to be imposing, but didn't quite make it.

"Hello!" the fangless vampire spread his arms to the side and windmilled them, voice comically lower as he adopted his part, "I am looking for Fletcher Godeaux!"

Fletcher blinked expectantly at the Rune Scrit, now, waiting for her to say her line.

Cloasse Galletti simply stared at Fletcher. Acting? Reciting lines? Where did he think they were, theatre?

"Wouldn't it be far more realistic if I simply showed no recognition for the name instead of placing myself into direct suspicion by announcing that 'no! I don't know a Fletcher Godeaux!' and seeming very, very, very bad a lying?"

That seemed reasonable.

"Nononono -- "

The stream of denials, rebuttals, and general hand-waving that suddenly came from Fletcher rivaled an overactive 13-year-old on a pixie stick high.

" -- nonono, Cloasse. See, that's why we're practicing. You know what you're supposed to say, right? Okay? Okay. Good. Great. Awesome." he couldn't seem to stop talking.

Whatever it was that was about to come into the bar after Fletcher, it certainly had him wrapped up in a tizzy. The vampire checked his phone, the door, and then Cloasse's bemused face once more.

"This is really important. Like, capital I important. Capital M, too. Hell, all the way to the letter T. IMPORT-ant, even. That's like six letters into the word, all caps. That's how important this is. Level six importance. Level six, dammit!"

Fletcher stopped flailing, and dropped his hands to his side.

"Are you getting this? This is life and death. Major."

"Considering the limited amount of information that you've given me, no, Fletcher, I am not 'getting this'... Please do explain further so that I understand and I am inclined to play along with your 'no! I don't a Fletcher Godeaux!' thingamabob..."

Cloasse turned the page of her book, attention once again lost to the enticing written page.

"I accidentally -- " the vampire began, and that was all he got out before the front door slammed back against the wall with a BAM and Liesha Kennicot entered the room.

If Cloasse had decided to look to Fletcher for further explanation, he had already given a sort of high-pitched yelp, and dropped below the counter.

"Remember your lines."

"Where is he?" Liesha demanded.

The Scrit turned her head to regard Liesha's entrance and, as predicted, did look back to Fletcher for further explanation only to find that he was gone.

Considering that no one had said 'I am looking for Fletcher Godeaux', she had to wonder if this was where she was supposed to speak or not...

"I don't know... a Fletcher... Godeaux?" she attempted with a hardly convincing smile in Liesha's direction.

Evidently this had not been the assaulter Fletcher was looking out for. He poked his head out from under the counter, and caught sight of the witch.

Liesha was there in one bound. She seized the vampire by the ear, and hauled him to his feet yelping.

"Hey Fletch. Did you know it takes just three pounds of pressure to rip someone's ear?"

"Owowow -- can't say as I did."

"Did you also know it takes just one idiot to blow a delicate operation wide -- oh, hello Cloasse." Liesha gave the Rune Scrit a smile.

Fletcher writhed away, whimpering and pouting. "Look, it was an accident, okay?"

"An accident?" the witch whirled back to him, "Fletcher, you looked the man in the eye and told him he had the personal charm of a milipede and then asked if he realized his 'family tree' was just a rest stop for dogs."

Cloasse Galletti nodded in return for the smile and returned to her book whilst conveniently ear-wigging into the conversation the two were having - well, more listening to the admonishment coming from Liesha and the pathetic excuses coming from Fletcher than anything.

"That was very rude, Fletcher... Did I say my line right?"

"Your line?" Liesha stared quizzically at Fletcher, who was too busy pawing at his bright red left ear to articulate a reply, "nevermind. Fletch, you're lucky I got here before he did, okay? Now, the last thing I want to do is put you in protective custody after what happened last time -- and no those charges never got cleared and I still need to call American Express -- but the next time you go and insult a vampire lord, make sure you do it on someone else's tax dollar."

Fletcher sniffed, turned to Cloasse looking very much like a pouting four-year-old.

"You didn't even say your line at the right time. It's not for the witch, it's for -- "

"What did you call me?"

"Well you are! You are a witch!"

"Fletcher, I swear to God -- " and that was all Liesha got out before the front door slammed back against the wall (again) with a BAM and a tall man in black robes with improbably perfect, beautiful hair strode into the room.

"Where is he?" Lord Valor Ravensmaw demanded in a high voice, with a theatric toss of his head.

Fletcher whispered something vulgar, and dropped to the floor again.

Cloasse Galletti looked cheerfully in Lord Valor Ravensmaw's (and Fletcher had said that her name was uptight!) direction and noted that he had entered in a similar fashion to Liesha's.

"I don't know a Fletcher Godeaux!"

Now that she getting used to saying the line, it really was quite a wonderful thing to hope for. Almost like living an alternate life, where she had never met the snarkpire...

God couldn't so cruel as that, though.

"Oh, magic and glory .. " Liesha muttered under her breath, "what's next?"

Lord Valor Ravensmaw stalked majestically through the crowd, his cape fluttering against his perfect shoulders. His pale, ebony skin was drawn in an expression of anger, but exquisite anger -- an anger that was almost as beautiful as the rest of him.

Liesha rolled her eyes.

And still Lord Valor Ravensmaw walked! What a walk he had, each stride commanding force and motion. The swing of his arms matched the pace, the rhythm of the rest of the room.

"Good grief .. "

All hearts in the room fluttered, for Lord Valor Ravensmaw had glanced from east to west, his pale, icy, penetrating blue eyes finding the souls of each woman who wanted him. They were disappointed, however, for the Lord's gaze did not stay with them. No, he had his mind and his perfect, exquisite anger set on another.

Fletcher had once more poked his head above the counter. He watched Lord Valor Ravensmaw make his ridiculous strut, and he rolled his eyes.

"Wrong again, Doodler. This clown isn't who you're supposed to be watching out for."

"I'm confused." That much was obvious. "Who am I supposed to be looking out for? Could you provide me with some physical details so that I can tell when to say my line? This is getting horribly repetitive and I dislike it immensely, Fletcher..."

Still, that bloke was ruddy creepy, swinging his arms like a lame monkey and the like. He seemed more woman that man to add to that!

"You!" Lord Valor Ravensmaw extended an arm, a perfect arm with a finger at the end. It was a glorious finger, a pointy finger that pointed right at Fletcher, "you defamed me! Me, and the name of my family! The race of vampires; our most esteemed clan!"

"No, you had that pretty well covered."

"Fletcher!" Liesha hissed.

"What? Look at the guy! If you were in my position, you would have said the same things -- "

"The very fact that you exist, cretin -- " Lord Valor Ravensmaw continued, pronouncing the word 'kret-in' "is an embarrassment! That you would form words with intent to wound! That you would dragon our name through the mud, with your ignorance -- "

"It's actually said cretin. Like, Crete. As in, the island off Greece?"

" -- your ignorance shall be punished! Long has the Ravensmaw clan ruled, and we have never allowed such insolence to -- "

"Not listening. Alright."

"-- to continue! And this, this shall be an example to all of them, all those who dare defy the rule of vampires! The rule of the powerful, the Chosen!"

"Alright." Liesha cleared her throat, "stop."

Thanks to Lord Valor Ravensmaw's long, rambly speech, Liesha had the time to articulate a phrase in Wizards Latin to defer the vampire Lord from his spell which whirled through the air at the trio. It fell to bits harmlessly once the words fell from Liesha's lips. She tilted her head to the side.

"Let's all just, you know. Not throw great handfuls of magic at each other."

"What is this?" Lord Valor Ravensmaw's eyes widened that his curse had been deflected, "a wand-carrier, defying me!"

"Personality of a millipede." Fletcher whispered to Cloasse.

Cloasse Galletti was baffled, for want of a better word. Utterly and entirely baffled.

"Why were you even in his company?" Cloasse asked curiously with a look towards Fletcher. "He doesn't seem your type, even if he does look rather feminine..."

Still, her eyes returned to her book, what a surprise, and were occasionally flickered between Fletcher, Liesha and Lord Ravensmaw.

"Can I say my line now? I was performing it so well…"

"I'm not a wand-carrier, my name is Liesha Kennicot and I'm with the SCD; you encountered Fletcher Godeaux on the evening of .. "

" .. with your pithy, petty, peckle magic! How dare you! You know nothing of power, nothing of true power!"

"Oh come on Liesha, 'peckle' isn't even a word will you just kill him and come have a beer or something, please?"

" .. and while his insults may have been out of line, that's no excuse to simply walk into the bar and -- "

All the rambling, all the talking seemed to overlap each other. It was just a hodgepodge of words, voices, things droning. Suddenly, there was a BAM as once more, for the third time, something slammed the front door back against the wall.

Gina Tedrick had been added to the mix, and she did not look pleased. She had her giant sword in one hand, and a 30pz Gulp-Eez in another. Her eyes were narrowed. Very narrowed.

"Where is he?" Gina demanded, as Fletcher squealed, and dropped (for the third time) to the floor.

Cloasse had been moving her head from left to right as she listened to the verbal sparring match between the Lord and the witch - it was rather like being at a tennis game for the first time - when the door, once again, BAM'd open to reveal Gina Tedrick.

"I don't know a Fletcher Godeaux," Cloasse crowed, delighted to have yet another chance to say her line; she felt that she was being ever so helpful tonight.

"Was that okay, Fletcher? Fletcher! Did that sound alright? Was I convincing? What do you think? Fletcher!"

"You're not saying it at the right time!" Fletcher hissed, sticking his head up once more from behind the counter. His hair was mussed from diving so much, "you're supposed to be watching for -- "

Again, Fletcher didn't have time to explain because Gina had dropped her Gulp-Eez and was currently spinning through the air with her sword in hand, heading right for the four of them with a wild look in her eyes.

"-- AUGH!"

But it seemed that by 'he' Gina had meant Lord Valor Ravensmaw whose cape had been severed by the blow, which dug neatly into the bar counter, not too far from Fletcher. Lord Valor Ravensmaw looked stunned.

"Y-You -- "

His cape, his perfect cape that had rested so perfectly on broad, sculpted muscled shoulders was severed in one breath from the violet-eyed slayer. Lord Valor Ravensmaw sputtered, shocked and the reality of his own power was thrust into question. The facts, the fiction of existence echoed and reverberated all through his mind, through the tears and the blood he had shed, the power he had taken and the single-handed mindset of --

Gina, who had obviously planned to paralyze the vampire lord this way, calmly and coolly took up a stake in her hands, and stabbed Lord Valor Ravensmaw in the chest.

-- what? Pain! Death? No! It could not be! He was Lord Valor Ravensmaw!

Liesha observed while the vampire lord keeled over, sputtering and shocked. Blood spurted from his chest, blood that quickly turned to ash. It was a grotesque and horrifying scene as the lord's perfect, sculpted face twisted in the final agony, the ebony confusion that came with --

She lifted her foot a bit, as he had collapsed fairly close to where she stood. "Gina. Could you be less, you know. Icky, with how you do this?"

"Could." Gina hummed, licking the stake of blood seconds before it turned to ash and melted away into dust and well-stitched clothes, "wouldn't be as fun. Do you want the cape?"

"Oh! Fletcher, you really need to tell - oh my Goddess!"

Cloasse conveniently hid her eyes behind her book; there was certainly no reason for the girl to see what Gina was about to do.

"Fletcher, might I perhaps hide behind the counter with you instead? Then neither of us need to say any strange lines, and it reduces the chances of my being murdered by a homicidal sword-wielder."

Cloasse paused.

"I promise I'll even stay really, really quiet and won't ask to draw on you!" she added, as if this were an extra perk, a special offer for the vampire alone. "I'll just sit and read my book in complete and utter silence, I promise!"

Peering over the top of her text (it was one of Geddes' books), the Scrit immediately regretted it.

"Eww... I think I may expel the contents of my stomach soon…"

"You -- " Fletcher sneezed. "Need." He sneezed again. "To say the line at the right --" He sneezed twice more, before staggering back, waving his hands, "Okay, sneezing out the vampire dust is not okay!"

"In some circles, vampire dust is considered to heal wounds, if mixed in water and applied to bandages," Liesha commented wryly, covering her mouth and nose with the front of her shirt while the dust settled, "although, those circles are completely stupid. You probably shouldn't breathe for a few seconds."

"What line are you talking about, sweetie?" Gina asked in a honey-coated voice, tucking a strand of hair behind one ear, and taking a step closer to her boyfriend in a not-yet-fiance, pre-Wedding and pre-timeskip sort of way.

"You're waiting for -- " Fletcher finally explained, but that was all he got out before (yet again) the front door slammed back against the wall (for the fourth time) with a BAM and a short, plump Asian woman with her hair twisted into what looked like a painfully tight bun stumped into the room.

"Oh shit your line, say your line!"

"Where is Fletcher Godeaux?" The vampire's landlord scowled with a face that looked rather accustomed to scowling. Her English seemed a bit strained, and it certainly stumbled over the world 'Godeaux."

From below the bar --

"Sayyourlinesayyourline --

Cloasse Galletti peered at Fletcher before dropping her handkerchief onto the bar for the vampire to use. "Strange... You're allergic to vampire dust, but you're... Hm..."

She'd have to research that.

"Who am I waiting - this is just horrendous luck on my part," she muttered as yet another person threw the door open with gay (or perhaps not so gay) abandon.

"I don't know a Fletcher Godeaux!" she trilled - there we go.

"Psst, Fletcher! Did I say it at the right time? Were my tone and inflection suitably appropriate for the scene?"

"He short with tall hair."

This woman wanted her rent.

"Talk very fast, but not make much sense. Not know what a lot of words mean, but he use them anyway."

Fletcher had grasped for Cloasse's handkerchief, making his sneezes sound inverted and choking as he stuffed it into his face.

"Awful smell coming from apartment; other people complain." His landlord continued.

Gina lifted a slim hand, looking sheepish. "Yeah, that's my bad."

-- Liesha almost made mental note to ask the slayer about that one later, but decided she didn't want to know.

When Cloasse said her line, though -- flawlessly executed and with such believable gusto, Fletcher's landlord gave the room one final squinty-eyed stare before she decided there weren't things small enough for the vampire to hide behind (and the fact that there was another bartender behind the counter made her deduce that there was no one else, perhaps, lying behind there with a handkerchief clutched to their face) and with that one squinty glare, she turned around and left.

"Is she -- " sneeze! " -- gone?"

"Yeah." Liesha peered down over the counter, "I'd make some crack about you sneezing your brains out, but it would be too easy. You know?"

"I'm sorry I didn't know you were allergic to vampire dust!" Gina cooed, dropping to her knees next to Fletcher, and flinging her arms around his neck.

Good job! Fletcher reached up and gave Cloasse a thumbs up while he mouthed the accolade -- even as Gina whined over him, dust still on her shirt. Fletcher fell back a bit with the girl pressing into him -- and he gave one final, last, all-around sneeze before he gave up.

"Aw, to hell with it."

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