"I... wanted to see if the invite thing was true." He shrugged. "How do you think I found out about angry ghosts and knives. Are you going to kill me?" He turned and pulled a clear bottle out of a cupboard, sporting an illustration of geese and set it on the counter.

 

"Killing you definitely wasn't my intention." His hand dug into the wood just a bit, frustrated. "But it's not like I'm fae; I can definitely lie to you."

 

"Can I revoke the invitation?" He asked tipping his head.

 

"Not easily." He scowled at Varek.

 

"... honest answer, if you're probably here, for dinner, why the hell didn't you try anything in the hall, or when we stepped out of the bar? Why my place?"

 

Ever blinked at him a bit, trying to suss that out. "I mean, I'm not saying no to a nosh, but that's not why I'm here."

 

He hummed, thoughtful, muttered something and gazed heavenward as though the old low ceiling might provide answers. "What the hell..." He said and picked up the vodka tossing it towards Ever. "Come on in."

 

It seemed like he should have caught it, maybe. As he stepped in, he reached out for it, fingers almost brushing it -- and then it slipped out of his grasp to crash at his feet.

 

"...you are either more drunk than I thought, or... the movies portray the grace of vampires with the same accuracy as twilight... Broom is in the corner."

 

He blew out a litte noise, somewhat annoyed. "Why would you...that was a waste."

 

"Because even Adam can catch things I chuck at him, and he's got the grace of a drunken hippo if you didn't catch him dancing."

 

Another long pause -- he stood there, careful not to step on the glass. "I'm not great with inanimate objects."

 

"Mmm.... broom first, and then we see, how's that?"

 

He fidgeted, frowned, looking up toward Varek. "Why don't you hand me the broom."

 

A sigh, and he moved to grab the broom, grabbing it in his free hand and walking over to offer it, and the clipped on pan. "Was ...come on in not explicit enough or?"

 

He stepped in one step, carefully, licking his lips. "This is a mess."

 

"Yeah... broken glass is like that." He sighed and looked down at the vodka. "I suppose, it's not the best time to ask what you know about ghosts and witches and the like."

 

"I don't know a lot about ghosts. Magic, though, is a different story." He shrugged just a tiny bit, taking another step -- trying to work around the glass carefully, and not really succeeding.

 

"Mmm...well maybe you can teach me about vampires." He said and took the broom back, starting to sweep a path for Ever to get through.

 

"What do you want to know?" He shrugged a little, sliding the bag off his shoulder.

 

"Well... whatever you'll tell me. Sort of ...how much is real. Even a little is probably better groundwork than me learning about ghosts, like, 'no. most people can't see them, or at the least, not so clearly."

 

"I don't know." He shook his head just a tiny bit, reaching up to swipe at his hair. "Christ, this sucks. Push me toward the couch?"

 

That earned an odd look, but he put a hand on Ever and gave him a push in the right direction, taking it fairly literally. "Around the corner, kick your boots off if you're gonna put your feet on anything, it's already had a hard life."

 

He didn't stumble, at least, so he wasn't such a disaster as that. But he bumped into the couch before collapsing onto it, legs sprawled out. "Why don't you ask questions?"

 

"... about you? Or to the ghosts?" He asked shoveling glass and as much liquid as the broom would usher into the pan before turning to dump what he could into the bin and returning for round two. At least it hadn't been a -full- bottle.

 

"Whatever it is you want to know." He swiped at his hair, dumped the bag next to him on the couch. "I don't know what you think is true."

 

“Garlic? Crosses? That’s a lot of the first shit that pops up when you search”

 

"Not on me." He shrugged the tiniest bit, knees pulled up toward his chest.

 

"Do you kill people? On purpose or accident?"

 

"That's a really dark question." His eyes closed, Ever relaxed out on Varek's couch.

 

"Well... yes. But I talk to dead people."

 

"Being a vampire doesn't make me kill anyone." It was the first time he'd actually admitted to the vampirism. He shrugged.

 

He hesitated and then nodded. "... so... do vampire bites hurt or are they like they make them in most of the movies?"

 

That made him blink and then focus again, head tipped bak to look toward Varek. "Mine don't."

 

"Don't hurt? Huh... interesting." He mused. He got a towel and cleaned up more of the floor, tossing it in the bin too not trusting the tiny shards of glass not to show up and slice his hands when he least expected. "Have you met anyone like me before?"

 

He stretched his legs out, attention still turned toward Varek. "People who can sense spirits?"

 

"Yeah." He straitened slowly, stretching and fetching his beer from off the counter, taking a long drink.

 

"I've had a couple conversations." He shrugged a tiny bit, still watching Varek. "But not really. What's it like?"

 

He looked distracted, "... depends." he admitted after a moment. "People thought I was crazy, I thought it too... at least for a while. What's being a vampire like?"

 

"Hungry all the time. Can't get a tan. Don't age." He shrugged a tiny bit. "Alcohol doesn't work much, and drugs do almost nothing."

 

"... I think I'd miss food." He mused. "But, you wanted to hook up with someone, yeah?"

 

"Yeah, that still works." He raised his eyebrows, thoughtful. "What' you interested now?"

 

"Never said I wasn't... I just didn't want to be a corpse. "... I should warn you, I attract the dead. I'm not sure if that counts for you, but I

 

would feel pretty shitty not telling you."

 

He rumbled a little bit, sitting up slowly. "And are you attractedt to the dead?IS that the flip side?"

 

"Honestly, for most it would be like being attracted to an 8 track. So I'll hazard a no... but they know I can see them so... " He shrugged.

 

"Are you still freaked out?" He brushed at his hair a little, leaning in on his knees. "Is this shock?"

 

"Mmm..." He mused, really pondering it. "Not especially no. You?"

 

"I'm pretty fucked up, this is all par for the course for me." Another moment, assessing -- and then he patted the seat next to him, meaningfully.

 

"Do vampires get STD? Or... is it one? I'd rather not like...talk to ghosts and be after blood." Though he still moved to sit on the couch

 

"We can't get any disease." He held out one arm, then, hand up -- the inside of his palm *lined* with those fine scars, some angrier than others, some lacing up his wrist, as well. He took Varek's other hand to set a thumb over his pulse. It was quiet. "It doesn't stick."

 

"Good to know. " He said frowning slightly at the angry marks. "So... yeah, mmm Anything... I should know?"

 

"Just wait a minute," He cocked his head the tiniest bit, still holding Varek's hand there. And if he paid *attention*, eventually a beat would come through. Not completely dead, then.

 

"...huh." He said sounding genuinely surprised. "Not gonna lie, I was not expecting -anything."

 

He was still cool, though, attention sliding up toward Varek's face -- except his eyes still didn't quite settle properly. "It gets better after I eat. And worse when I don't."

 

"Makes sense, How long has it been?" his thumb rubbed absently against the cool wrist.

 

"Not long enough, I guess." He reached up, then, with his other hand, to brush back Varek's hair. Considering. There was another beat in there somewhere, maybe. "I don't know if control gets better or worse with time."

 

"mmm... the hunger or...the heart beat?

 

"Yeah." He caught a good handful of hair, then, to tilt Varek's head back with that surprising strength.

 

He gave a small half startled laugh, more nerves than anything intended to be demeaning, gripping the couch for something like balance. "You're stronger than you look, it keeps surprising me."

 

"I look like I might break, but trust me, it takes more than that." He smoothed his own thumb down the side of Varek's throat, to find his pulse.

 

"I'll keep that in mind. I can think of some times when being hard to break, would be really useful."

 

"Are you trying to flirt? Because if so, you're really bad at it." It made him smile just a little, looking Varek over.

 

"Yeah, I know... It's apparently a running joke." He admitted with a grimace, and tried to return to something more casual, running a hand against Ever's arm.

 

"I'm going to bite you." It was surprisingly honest; he licked his lips a little, considering. "Unless you object."

 

"I kinda got that impression, but, I appreciate the warning... I can't promise I'm not gonna be tense." He admitted.

 

"I'll be less tense after." He didn't dive in, though. Instead he tilted Varek's head carefully to kiss him, first.

 

"Hmm..." He said approving the kiss at least. It might have been a bit of a tease to brush his own teeth against Ever's lip,

 

A tease, but he was also probably way out of his league. Because once he bit, Ever bit back, just a scrape of sharpened canines over his lower lip, enough to sting. And he shifted to drag himself across Varek's knees.

 

He still slid a hand carefully around Ever's lower back, not 'holding' him per say, not that he likely stood a chance even if he wanted to.

 

He felt the same as anyone would have -- except for the slight chill of his skin, the stillness of his body. He dragged his mouth up off of Varek to take...not a deep *breath*, exactly, but to pause. "Consent. Explicit consent?"

 

"You can bite me, with the caveat... don't kill me, I will haunt you." It was half a tease. He was pretty sure he'd be an asshole of a ghost even if it was an accident.

 

"I never take too much. But you'll want a glass of orange juice after, maybe." He smoothed his thumb over Varek's pulse one more time before tipping his head down to bite him.

Varek had asked if it hurt, and Ever'd said no, which -- was apparently not *entirely* true. The first press of teeth stung, scraped, as did the puncture. But once he broke through to blood, it came with a warm rush, melting away the rest of the pain into something much better.

 

He absolutely tensed at the sharp scrape and ting of teeth. After that though, not so bad at all. It felt... pretty damned nice despite trying to tell himself otherwise.

 

It was easy to see how vampires could get away with this, if it felt like tharm and relaxing even as he drained Varek, a finger caressing the edge of his jaw. As he promised, though, he wouldn't take too much. A pint, maybe a bit more, before he pulled his head up with one last wash of tongue over skin.

It closed the wound with a tingle, pleasant.

 

He exhaled, honestly basking for a moment in the feeling. "Ok... so, that's not propaganda...good to know. I thought I'd regret saying yes... but, kinda don't." He ram his hand over Ever's back again to see if he could feel the difference his blood had made.

 

Warmer, definitely. He licked blood from the corner of his mouth and his skin seemed slightly more pink now, too, less sickly. He dragged his fingers over the spot, and then grabbed onto the back of the couch, considering Varek's expression. After a moment, he smiled. "I thought the next part might help with that."

 

"Yeah? What do I get permission to do? Or..what are you going to ask for permission for?"

 

"I'd assumed consent had already been given." It was idle, easy, tangling his hand in Varek's hair again.

 

"Well... yes, but sometimes you have to check in. hat if I introduced a new mechanic after all?

 

Ever shut him up with another kiss -- warmer this time, -- and this time it didn't stop. Instead, with blood in his veins, he could get Varek out of his clothes and make sure he'd enjoyed the whole experience enough not to *question it* later.

 

There were two echos in the apartment, nothing very strong, or hostile, but clear enough once you realized they were there, little motions still being gone through though they were old and faded. Varek skirted one without thinking when he'd led the way to the bedroom, it sported two layers of blackout curtains because of the odd hours, and because the heavy black fabric kept people from being able to see if 'the mystic' was home. Thumbtacks pinned them against the walls, though he showed the bathroom too, just in case.

It was after Varek had gone to sleep, tired despite the orange juice that he drank after cleaning up.

The third ghost... was a lot more active, it came for a moment through the wall, lingering for a long moment before its attention was clearly turned to Ever, and it retreated with a feral growl.

Varek folded half the pillow over his head and muttered something half asleep.

 

He grumbled as well, a bit annoyed by the disturbance, but -- rolled over into Varek's side of the bed and pressed in against his back. Protective, maybe, or maybe it was that catnip-for-the-dead thing.

 

"MmmMmmyouarlgghht?" it was, almost words half mumbled into the pillow. "Smmater."

 

"Someone else in the apartment?" It was quiet -- not groggy, not yet, not until after the sun came up. Then he'd be out like a light.

 

Varek sat up, the pillow sliding to one side and he blinked groggily glancing around. ".... mm... they used to own the building." He said after a moment. "Didn't realize you could see them."

 

There was a beat, in which he could have said something - thought about it - and then dismissed it. "I don't think they liked me."

 

That earned a blink or three. "... shouldn't have an opinion, their just echos. They don't even notice if you walk through them, I just don't care to."

 

"I felt attention." He chewed it over and then sat up, extracting himself slowly. "Can I smoke a cigarette?"

 

"Yeah why not." He sighed and stretched, looking thoughtful. "I'll look and see if there were like, accidents or anything."

 

"It doesn't matter." He didn't bother grabbing clothes, just hauled himself out if the bed to fumble his way in the dark back to the couch, in search of his bag.

 

He started to rub his eyes, and then made a dissatisfied sound sound realizing he'd slept with the red contacts in. He bothered at least with sleep pants, sliding them on before following vaguely. It looked like he had something he almost said, but chose not to.

 

Ever cursed a bit as he fumbled around the couch and eventually came up with his bag. He dug out a battered pack of cigarettes and a cheap lighter. "How often do you get visited?"

 

He shrugged, wandering towards the fridge. "Depends, sometimes I get a couple a week if I pass by someone or someplace that has some fresh ones. They tend to be, confused or frustrated."

 

He perched on the edge of the couch as he pried out a cigarette, pale and thin, with hair falling into his face. "So you need to ward your apartment, not carry around some stupid little bag."

 

"I'll grab some white sage from the shop after work. " He yawned. Unless you know some better ways, I've tried a few."

 

"I can't do magic anymore." He spoke around the cigarette as he cradled the lighter between his hands to catch the end.

 

"Can you.. give instructions?" He pulled out the half loose hair tie that had held his hair back as best it could. ".... how much did you used to do?"

 

He shrugged, crookedly; the act of lighting up was familiar and easy. He reached out next to the couch to fumble for a side table, in search of some kind of ash tray. Or a cup. He'd settle on Varek's empty beer. "A lot. But not very well."

 

"Did someone teach you? Or just looked it up?"

 

Whether he breathed or not, he obviously *could*; drawing smoke into his lungs and tapping the cigarette off into Varek's beer. "I...figured out most of it myself."

 

"From digging up information? Seeing what worked?"

 

"Books. A couple reluctant teachers..." He hesitated, thinking that over. "Experimentation, yeah."

 

"Guess I should look harder for teachers." He murmured. "Most of the ones I've run into were fake as hell."

 

"I never....I kind of fell into it." He drew on the cigarette again, attention turned back toward Varek.

 

"Long story?" He tipped his head curious

 

"I was sleeping in a church." He blew out the smoke again, leaning back into the corner of the couch. "He was there."

 

"Your teacher? Was... running into all this how you ended up... " He waved a vague hand.

 

"It definitely....snowballs. Once you've collided with one part of this world, you definitely end up in more." He cleared his throat, cigarette burning down a bit between his fingers.

 

"Fair.... I met you, I guess that counts."

 

"Yeah, you're well and truly fucked now." He tapped the cigarette off again, licking the corner of his mouth. It was a joke, maybe, except it came out kind of hollow, lacked the zing of amusement.

"I mean you'd have to find something. Rigor-mortis only lasts so long."

 

"My rigor-mortis lasts plenty long, I promise." another of this smileoo wide, too sharp, almost cutting, with a flash of too sharp canines in it.

 

"Oh great... because ghosts weren't enough. He rolled his eyes. "I was starting to wonder if Adam put you up to this somehow, but that explains a lot I think."

 

"Which part?" He tipped his glass a little, ice clinking around.

 

He gave a humorless grin, and tapped a fingernail against his own incisor. "You're just a new kinda spook."

 

"Spook?" It got a flicker of something through it, surprised or annoyed. "You're one to talk."

 

"I'm spooky, not a spook. Little difference."

 

He finally swiveled to turn and face Varek, a finger sliding around the edge of his glass. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

 

"Yeah? Enlighten me?" He rested his chin on his hand, rolling his drink about around the bottom edge of the glass.

 

Hair fell into his face, pale and messy, and now he was frowning a bit instead of smiling. It took some of the life out of his expression, left him cooler. "What are you?"

 

He shrugged, a tired expression at the question. "Spooky." He said with a wry smile. "I just said."

 

There was a moment of silence, thinking it over - his head cocked to listen a bit - and then he reached out to grab Varek's wrist, the tips of his fingers searching out his pulse. His hands were cool, but not cold. Just chilled.

 

Varek in turn was warm enough, there was a pulse there beneath the skin right before he twisted his hand to try and free himself with a frown. "Hey!' he protested. "What about you? hmm? Besides grabby." He said and frowned at the touch.

 

For a moment he just held on - stronger than he looked like he should be - and then he let Varek pull free. "Hungry. Tired. Not half as drunk as I'd like to be."

 

He rubbed at the wrist. "Great... order some food." He said with a new more cautious tone.

 

He probed at that canine with his tongue, thinking that over. "What's your name?"

 

He pointed, scowling. "That better not have anything to do with ordering dinner." He narrowed his eyes

 

"I can't eat anything they serve here." except, apparently, the vodka - which he finished all in one go.

 

He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. "...and just to be clear, what can you eat."

 

"What's your name?" He said it like a counterpoint, head cocked a little.

 

He drummed his fingers... and made a disapproving sound. "Varek."

 

"Varek." His tone went silky as he asked it, carefully light, like he was testing it out. Flirting, maybe. "I can't quite seem to leave you alone. How far away do you live?"

 

"I guess, I draw all kinds of the dead, even if they asked my name when I said...order, dinner."

 

"How far away do you live, Varek?" He leaned in just a bit closer, elbow on the countnd while maybe he wasn't as drunk as he *wanted*, that wasn't to say completely sober. "We could go back to your place and order dinner."

 

"No, we can't." He said shaking his head. "They took my keys to get me out here. So tragic."

 

"Adam?" That made him tilt his head a little bit, assessing, half-turning toward the dance floor. "Which one is he?"

 

"Oh my god, You're... what, a Ghoul? A... Wight? Why would I take you back to my flat?"

 

There was a long pause, frozen, and then he frowned back at Varek. "That's really insulting. Do you want your keys back or not?"

 

"And yet I don't hear a denial, which means I'm still on the dinner menu." He sighed and then pointed to a Tall blonde with a tyedye 'dark side of the moon' shirt dancing in the crowd.

 

He licked his lip, thinking it over -- and then polished off his drink, chewing on the ice as he rolled up to stand. "I'm not a spirit. But it's interesting you assumed I was."

 

"I've also 'assumed' you're dead this whole time, but you're in pretty good shape to be... a zombie and those feel different. Besides, most of them are in pretty specific places."

 

"I'm not a zombie, either, Christ. I definitely don't smell like I'm rotting." Frankly, he didn't smell much of anything; maybe some old beer. He took a step away toward the crowd. "You have anything distinctive on your keys?"

 

A chuckle of amusement. "If he didn't take it off, a little leather bag with some knuckle bones on it."

 

"Uh huh." He didn't ask anything else. Instead he moved through the crowd in the general direction Varek had pointed -- and not in a straight line toward Adam. Maybe he hadn't exactly tracked the pointing, because he brushed up against a couple people before colliding with the right one.

 

He could just let the Dead fellow get his keys, he could get an uber and go... somewhere. Get a locksmith tomorrow. He was running out of dead things that he could confirm existed. Though... to be fair, it didn't mean that this fellow knew what he was. It wasn't like... hm... He watched Adam stumble and nearly fall, bumping into someone else, he could almost hear the curses which, tended to be creative. He chewed on his thumbnail, thoughtful.

 

He reached out to catch Adam carefully, apologizing in a fumbling sort of way, hands on his hips and his chest and his back -- ostensibly to make sure that he was okay. He was playing drunker than he was, blinking lazily. And while he did it, he dug around to steal Varek's keys.

 

Varek was at least a little amused. It was a clever play, at least it meant there probably wasn't any brain rot, and it also meant it was unlikely he was stuck in a loop. He pulled out his phone and typed a few things into google., made a face at his phone and put it away.

 

He patted Adam on the face a couple times as he pocketed the little leather bag, feeling the bones out with his thumb. He was also *solid*, definitely. Solid enough to be annoying. To drink, and maybe eat. To knock people over. He licked his lips and took a step back.

 

Adam shook his head, clearly disgusted by the drunken impression he had clearly swallowed from the act. He waved the man off, blessedly he was not a confrontational type, at least when it came to clubs. He wasn't about to risk being thrown out when he could dance and drink, and he'd found a pretty enough partner.

 

Less than ten minutes, then, before he dropped gracelessly back down at the bar, ruffling at his hair. He didn't offer Varek his keys back, but raised both eyebrows. "So. How far away do you live?"

 

"Persistent." He said shaking his head. "clever, but persistent."Do you... need invited in if I tell you?" he tapped his heavy ring against the bar again

 

"It's definitely pretty rude to go into someone's home without an invitation." Idly, he pulled the little leather bag out of his pocket to play with it. "Are these human?"

 

"I'm going to dump the rest of my drink on you... " he said lifting the glass. "You should see what's inside." He added glancing at the leather bag.

 

"It's bones." That much he could tell, clearly; turning the little bag over with his head tilted to the side. "I mean, it smells like bones. And leather."

 

"That's a bit of it yeah." He nodded. "And some herbs, some graveyard dust." He held out a hand for the bag.

 

He thought that over -- without giving Varek his keys back. And why would he? Now he had possession of them. "What's it for?"

 

"I'll tell you what it is, if you tell me what you are."

 

He rumbled at that, thumb smoothing over the laces of the bag. His hands were scarred; old scars, pale slashes across his palms and fingers. "Gris gris?"

 

A slow blink was the only reply, the hand remaining outstretched.

 

It made him smile again, all at once. He leaned back away from Varek, undoing the laces. "Obviously it's not working very well."

 

"Hey...HEY!" He protested at the undoing of it. He growled in frustration, half leaning forward to try and wrest it free before it was undone entirely. "They serve specific purposes you know."

 

He moved too fap and out of Varek's reach, with one hand lightly on his chest to keep him back. "Yeah, except that if you're questioning if everyone's a spirit, then obviously they're not working."