(no subject)
Charles Bromley is sitting at a Bar he has never been in before, drinking a cup of coffee with healthy servings of sugar, cream, and blood.
Hey, when you're a vampire, you've got to get your blood somehow, and most of the other drinks he'd tried with it tasted awful (though there was a port that blended well, and he'd made a note to suggest that to someone), while...somehow, it didn't go well in an espresso or cappuccino.
Still, he's in a three-piece suit, his hat is sitting on the table next to him, and he's calmly sipping it and reflecting on whatever the latest business developments are.
Hey, when you're a vampire, you've got to get your blood somehow, and most of the other drinks he'd tried with it tasted awful (though there was a port that blended well, and he'd made a note to suggest that to someone), while...somehow, it didn't go well in an espresso or cappuccino.
Still, he's in a three-piece suit, his hat is sitting on the table next to him, and he's calmly sipping it and reflecting on whatever the latest business developments are.