Once upon a time, in a place not so different than this, the appearance of one Anglo-Indian-looking vampire inna bar through the front door would not have been such a strange occurrence.
This time, this place, this vampire?
This is a strange occurrence. Because it's never happened here before.
He's never been here before, doesn't recognise the
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"Sir?"
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He looks to the source of the voice, and takes a step, two, three towards the booth, peering aside at the head peeking out.
"Sorry, I seem to have..." he starts, and looks around again, standing up straight. "Stepped into the wrong place."
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"This place takes people from all manner of worlds and times. It's a rather queer sort of spot."
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"You can say that again; certainly not what I was expecting. I assume there's no point in asking if it's a vision, a dream of some sort?" he says, and reaches out to touch the upholstery of the booth he's standing next to.
"I don't believe 'queer' really covers it. It is a bar. In one of my guest rooms."
And since he drinks nothing but blood, he wouldn't have a bar in his house.
Least of all with people he doesn't know in it.
"And I am sorry, I seem to have lost all sense of propriety. I am David."
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