13240/Drinks at the Hellfire Club

Drinks at the Hellfire Club
Date of Scene:	09 May 2021
Location:	Hellfire Club - Manhattan
Synopsis:	Loki and Drac talk about raspberries, and how they're not blue. A trip is going to occur.
Cast of Characters:	Loki, Dracula

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Loki has posed:
The time, early evening, might be considered a little early for some people to start drinking, but given who he is, Earth based alcohol may as well be nice tasting water, for Loki. He's taken a break from... well, whatever it is he tends to do, and is sitting in one of the chairs near the fireplace.

No, that is not entirely accurate. Loki is /lounging/ in that chair. He's leaned half against the back of the cushioned chair, and half against the left side of it. His legs dangle over the other side of the chair. Crossed at the ankles, his gleaming black boots are easy to see. One foot bounces idly up and down.

To complete the rest of his outfit, Loki wears a black suit with forest green buttons and cufflinks. The tops of the breast pockets are a matching green. His long, black hair hangs over his left shoulder, and drapes over the arm of the chair.

He has a drink in his right hand. Something electric blue and smelling of raspberries. "I will never understand," he seems to be saying, "Why this drink smells, and tasts, like raspberries, when it's blue." He doesn't seem to be talking to anyone in particular, but is staring at the fireplace, where a small fire burns cheerfully, keeping what little chill remaining out of the club.

Dracula has posed:
A black mist seeps in beneath the back door of the establishment, slithering forth out of the evening beyond and roiling up and drifting in a coalescent mass of darkness. It seethes with a presence of its own, and then it solidifies into the form of a man. Dressed in black from head to toe, from his peacoat to the matte silk button up shirt to the slacks and the matte finish leather shoes on his feet. His hair is black as well, falling lightly past his shoulders. The break in the black comes in the form of the crimson pocket square tucked into his shirt pocket, the glisten that falls the length of the sword cane that he carries in his right hand, and the paler tone to his skin. His eyes are so dark of a brown as to appear black as well.

Vlad steps forward, up behind Loki and the bright blue drink that he holds, and he tilts his head faintly to one side. "I believe that they call it artificial flavour. And the colour, of course," he says in a velvet tone, lifting his free hand to gesture slightly towards the beverage in question. He has yet to secure a drink for himself, but he is not disturbed by the lack of it. Yet. "I expect that they find it an amusing play on a candy that goes by a similar name," he comments, a touch of amusement flickering through his voice. He makes no perceptible movement, but a package of blue gummy raspberries appears to tumble through the air towards Loki's lap.

Loki has posed:
Loki is not immunen to the feel of magic. Quite the opposite, in fact. Thus it is that when the black mist seeps beneath the back door? Loki stops speaking in mid sentence and looks away from the fireplace to the door in question. And when he sees who it is the mist forms into, the look of utter disappointment, followed by boredom, is telling. Loki yawns. "Oh. It's you. I thought 'twould be someone /interesting/,"he says.

He looks back to the fire and picks up the sentence where he'd left it off. "I know it's because of the humans. But I don't understand /why/. Raspberries, I have come to learn, are quite red in fact. And not blue at all. Why is the drink blue?" He shakes his head.

Within the fire, for those who are sensative to such things, a little fire spirit dances. If it replies, it's not audible. Or it's to Loki alone. "Maybe artificial flavor, but it /tastes/ like raspberries." He glowers at the package of blue gummy raspberries tumbling toward his lap, and they stop, mid flight, and hang there, as though suspended with /something/. "Those /things/, however, don't taste like raspberries. At all."

Dracula has posed:
"Pity, I know," Vlad comments, one of his eyebrows quirking a touch upwards as his dark gaze settles upon Loki, studying him unblinkingly. "And who had you hoped that it might be, hmm?" he inquires, only the barest hint of curiosity to his voice. He steps over to the other armchair at the fireplace, drawing it out before settling to it and crossing his legs at the knee.

"Not all raspberries are red. There are ones that are dark purple, and there are ones that are golden in colour. And most likely, they fancy themselves as witty for coming up with blue raspberries on account of using red for flavours such as strawberry and cherry already," he comments. There's a glance towards the fire, and he seems unbothered by the sprite there dancing in the flames. Aware of it, he is.

A hint of a smile touches at the corners of his lips, and he inclines his head slightly towards the trickster god. "I am aware of their flavour and how little they taste of raspberry. Raspberries will always taste best when picked ripe from the canes whilst they are yet warm from the sun," he says, a hint of a smile touching at the corners of his lips. "Perhaps they actually use the essence of raspberries to gain the flavour then drown it in the blue colour. The sheep do many inexplicable things that make sense to them."

Loki has posed:
"Oh, I don't know. Someone interesting. You weren't it, Old Fang." Old Fang? That one's new. From Loki, at least. Loki waves a hand in the air. "Perhaps. But none are blue," he points out. Loki doesn't seem bothered by the fact that the fire sprite has been noticed either. It bounces and twirls and then disappears in a puff of smoke. Back to wherever it had come from. Loki pays it no mind. Though perhaps a touch disappointed, his attention is mostly on Dracula now.

"I"ll take your word for that one. I've never picked them from a cane or anything else." He pauses, head tilted as he considers the offensive packet of 'blue raspberries' hovering before him. "I rather doubt I ever will." He nods with a smirked sort of grin. "They do many inexplicable things, until you consider the fact that they are, in fact, sheep," he points out. "Of course, they remain mostly inexplicable to us predators."

Dracula has posed:
"Well, terribly sorry to disappoint you," Vlad says, inclining his head slightly towards Loki. Except that he's not sorry in the slightest. He doesn't seem to mind the nickname that Loki has gifted him, or if he does them he doesn't argue it here and now. "Indeed. None of them are blue. At least, not yet. I would not be surprised if the sheep have some mad scientist locked away somewhere to attempt to fit such a thing together for their whims," he comments, mildly amused at the notion. There is a glance towards the fire sprite as it departs, and then his dark gaze turns towards Loki, watching the fellow for a long moment.

"Perhaps you should give it a try when they are in season," Vlad suggests, one of his eyebrows quirking up slightly. "There are many places where they grow, both wild and cultivated," he adds. And unless Loki does anything to prevent him from doing so, he makes a slight flick of one of his fingers in order to banish the package of offensive candy back from whence it came. "And many of them have such blissful ignorance when wolves are even present amongst their little flock. It is a delightful thought to imagine painting a space in blood and slaughter," he says in a velvet soft tone, his dark eyes showing a flicker of crimson to them.

Loki has posed:
Loki smirks and lifts his glass to sip from it. He doesn't speak until he's swallowed the drink. "I'm sure they're already working on turning them blue." Stranger things have happened, right? He shrugs about the raspberries. "I'm sure they're in season.. somewhere," he points out. "Any thoughts to where?"

He does not prevent the offensive candy from disappearing out of his immediate vicinity. "Though, those ground up and blended with something might not be too bad, so long as you remember, they aren't really raspberry." He snorts a laugh. "Many? No. Most of them are blissfully unaware of us." He waves a hand. "Blood and slaughter is so very passe. If you have a happy flock, not only do you have subjects to do your bidding, but a ready, and happy, food source."

Dracula has posed:
"It would not surprise me if they already were. And other colours, as well. They seem to rather enjoy mucking about with what nature has created," Dracula comments, a thoughtful tone to his voice. "Stranger things have happened, and no doubt will continue to do so, amongst the sheep," he muses, his gaze resting upon the trickster. He's quiet for a few moments then, considering the question, and he lifts one of his shoulders in a faint shrug. "Mexico seems likely. Chile, for another, perhaps Australia as well, amongst other locations. Their season needs more time, here," he says, a thoughtful tone to his voice.

His brow furrows slightly at the notion of the candy ground up and blended with... well... anything... and he gives a small shake of his head. "I would rather have real raspberries, if given the choice. Those, I fear, would impart their artificiality into anything that they touch," Vlad says, perhaps a touch distastefully. He is perhaps not a fan of the candy either. "Most of them think only of themselves and their own pitiful existence upon this world, what influence they might have. And while it may be passe, it is terribly effective sometimes. I have little care for if they are happy or otherwise. Though they are easier to hunt when they are happy. Or drinking or otherwise inebriated," he says, a wolfish smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Loki has posed:
Loki nods slowly to the location suggestions. "Hm. Chile. Beautiful country." Loki tips back the last of the drink and hops to his feet. "Chile it is. Let's go," he says. "You might be right on the candies, but if you're not trying to be real, say in a drink or desert, it doesn't really matter." He grins about them being easier to deal with when happy or inebriated. It's the truth!

"Meet you there," he says. It would seem that Vlad has gotten to be a bit more interesting! With that, he vanishes, not even having the decency to take Dracula with him.

Dracula has posed:
There's a slight smirk that touches Dracula's lips at the consideration that his suggestions earn. And then he tilts his head faintly to one side as Loki gets to his feet and suggests to simply venture there. One of his eyebrows quirks up slightly, and he gives a soft chuckle before inclining his head towards the trickster. "Perhaps they would fit there, well enough, though I eat little in the way of their food, these days," he comments, gesture towards the sheep.

He easily rises to his feet, and then he inclines his head slightly towards the fellow. "Of course," he comments, a flicker of amusement to his voice. And it's only once Loki has vanished that he chuckles softly. "Perhaps I ought have suggested Siberia, as well," he muses under his breath. And in the blink of an eye, he vanishes.