(no subject)
Who: Dracula and Open
What: Left without any resources, Dracula turns to vigilantism and robbery to line his pockets. Come help him spend his ill gotten gains!
When: Second night of port
Where: Montmartre and THE MOULIN ROUGE
Warnings: NPC violence, can-can dancers, flirting
Dracula found himself unceremoniously dumped off the Barge in the middle of Paris with no Warden, no money and no recourse. Clearly the Admiral and the other Wardens did not care if he and those left without pairing ended up living as penniless transients in the middle of the city while everyone else went shopping, drank and partied. Bitterly, he also noted that as a vampire, he could either find a way to get indoors by dawn, or end up sleeping in the sewers.
None of that was acceptable to him.
His powers were lessened, but he had been a hard man well before leaving humanity behind, and he had no desire whatsoever to let apprehension or mercy stay his hand. The Wardens wouldn't like it, but what were they doing to help him? Nothing. Therefore, after some consideration, he decided on his targets, disguise, and how to proceed, and began a miniature crime spree. Six times in one night, he trailed a successful pickpocket or robber back into the shadowed, camera-free alleys, knocked them over the head and took their prizes for himself. He was careful; he wore a pale suit that was nothing like his usual clothes (taken from the unconscious victim of a previous mugging) and carried a party mask that ensured no one in the alleys ever saw his face. Both of these went down the sewer as soon as he had enough money for a few days' rent and some entertainment.
He licked blood off his hands as he changed back into his somber raiment. He had not killed, but the men he attacked would wake up a pint or so low from small, bruised wounds on wrist or ankle. He avoided necks, wary of leaving a mark one of the Wardens might notice if they got nosy. Though with the apparent crime rate in the tourist districts, chances were that his activities would go entirely unnoticed.
He left the district he had "worked in" and went across the city to Montmartre, where he secured a small basement room from a shy old man who spoke good English. It was a stroke of luck; he decided not to push it by continuing his crime spree locally. Instead, the second night, he went out wandering through the district, taking in the sights. He wanted entertainment, more blood if he could get it, and a sweet young lady for a two or three day affair. He hoped to find them all here.
What: Left without any resources, Dracula turns to vigilantism and robbery to line his pockets. Come help him spend his ill gotten gains!
When: Second night of port
Where: Montmartre and THE MOULIN ROUGE
Warnings: NPC violence, can-can dancers, flirting
Dracula found himself unceremoniously dumped off the Barge in the middle of Paris with no Warden, no money and no recourse. Clearly the Admiral and the other Wardens did not care if he and those left without pairing ended up living as penniless transients in the middle of the city while everyone else went shopping, drank and partied. Bitterly, he also noted that as a vampire, he could either find a way to get indoors by dawn, or end up sleeping in the sewers.
None of that was acceptable to him.
His powers were lessened, but he had been a hard man well before leaving humanity behind, and he had no desire whatsoever to let apprehension or mercy stay his hand. The Wardens wouldn't like it, but what were they doing to help him? Nothing. Therefore, after some consideration, he decided on his targets, disguise, and how to proceed, and began a miniature crime spree. Six times in one night, he trailed a successful pickpocket or robber back into the shadowed, camera-free alleys, knocked them over the head and took their prizes for himself. He was careful; he wore a pale suit that was nothing like his usual clothes (taken from the unconscious victim of a previous mugging) and carried a party mask that ensured no one in the alleys ever saw his face. Both of these went down the sewer as soon as he had enough money for a few days' rent and some entertainment.
He licked blood off his hands as he changed back into his somber raiment. He had not killed, but the men he attacked would wake up a pint or so low from small, bruised wounds on wrist or ankle. He avoided necks, wary of leaving a mark one of the Wardens might notice if they got nosy. Though with the apparent crime rate in the tourist districts, chances were that his activities would go entirely unnoticed.
He left the district he had "worked in" and went across the city to Montmartre, where he secured a small basement room from a shy old man who spoke good English. It was a stroke of luck; he decided not to push it by continuing his crime spree locally. Instead, the second night, he went out wandering through the district, taking in the sights. He wanted entertainment, more blood if he could get it, and a sweet young lady for a two or three day affair. He hoped to find them all here.