13472/The Den's Getting Crowded

The Den's Getting Crowded
Date of Scene:	09 June 2021
Location:	Club Lux, Melville
Synopsis:	Lucifer is visited by Dracula. Then a Spike joins. Finally, a talking Chimp! Sometimes closing time at Club Lux can be very...entertaining.
Cast of Characters:	Lucifer, Spike, Dracula, Detective Chimp

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Lucifer has posed:
Monday nights are fairly quiet for Club Lux, and as such, Lucifer only usually has to deal with a handful of his regulars and maybe a few newcomers or tourists that have heard about Lux through the grapevine. They come to see if it's really all it's said to be, and once they realize it's likely that and then some, they spill their wallets, fill their alcohol levels, and often find night's desires fulfilled as well.

Still, business was relatively slow, and there was perhaps a drop made in some ethereal bucket that the Devil is bored and wants company that isn't some mortal begging for a favor because they're face to face with the Devil himself. Pish posh. Lies. Slander. He would say, or at least do his best to divert the conversation to something else in time. Slowly but surely getting Lux empty of patrons that might not want to be here when the real party shows up.

Spike has posed:
Spike hated the prices of Lux, they weren't worth it, but then, what club's prices were worth it? It was the same alcohol, there was no difference in the glasses. It was all down to the decorations, atmosphere, and clientele. Spike could do without the price gouging. He didn't actually care for the decorations, or the atmosphere. But the clientele. Lux was one of the few places Spike could go without seeing any of the Scooby Gang, except for maybe Faith. But when he saw her, she bought him booze. So it helped with his first gripe.

He was still at the club as closing time approached, some girl having bought him a drink. She must have had a thing for Billy Idol, or daddy issues, but while he wasn't biting, figuratively or literally, who was Spike to turn down a free drink? She then asked him if he wanted to get out of there, and he turned to her, "thanks luv, but you can do better. What I got, you don't want anything to do with." He was trying to let her down gently.

Dracula has posed:
Shadows grow deeper and darker in an alley near to the club, swirling softly almost like mist would. It rises half the height of the building, and sounds from within are somewhat muffled. The shadows cling slightly to the tall man who steps out of the alleyway and to the street. He makes his way to the entrance of the club, then reaches out to pull the door open before he steps within. The shadows skitter to either side, bearing with them a hint of a chill to them.

Vlad's black hair is of a medium length tonight, styled in a layered cut. He has a neatly trimmed goatee and mustache, and his eyes are so dark a brown as to be only a shade from black. He wears a black peacoat, a long-sleeved shirt that's a rich burgundy shade with a black pocketsquare, black slacks, and a pair of black shoes. A cane is held in his right hand, though the end of it barely touches the floor. He needs it not, that seems to state. The door closes behind him, and he starts to make his way towards the bar, his steps nigh soundless, graceful.

Lucifer has posed:
A bouncer will likely swing by and, on silent orders, try to get the girl to leave but not Spike. Spike's allowed to stay - for whatever reason Lucifer has deemed appropriate for the evening. Also, Faith is not the only member of the Scooby Gang to have graced the walls of Lux. Even the Slayer has come within these walls, as well as the Watcher. Fun times indeed.

Lucifer's at the bar, glass of whiskey just in front of him and since the air changes as it does, he smirks. A breath inhaled before dark blue eyes shift to the entrance to see Vlad as the Vampire Lord approaches the bar. "One of these days you're going to do that right when someone is leaving and scare the piss out of some mortal just trying to get home." In regards to the shadows and all that.

Spike has posed:
Spike didn't miss much. When the bouncer escorted the woman away, but not him, he cast a sideways glance at the bartender, wondering just what Lucifer was playing at. He was no high roller, he barely had enough to cover his drinks, and he'd been nursing them all night, or scamming people into paying for them, picking fresh drinks off tables while the patrons were distracted, that kind of stuff. Spike was more of a nuisance than a regular.

At the sight of Dracula, Spike rolled his eyes, this again. "So, you finally come to pay up, have you?" No matter how many times Spike would ask for the eleven quid that Dracula had owed him since 1897, Dracula has steadfast refused to pay. It was the principal of the thing. In point of fact, that eleven quid would be worth over two thousand American today on inflation alone, and being a signed first edition of Dracula by Bram Stoker, if it had survived into the present day in reasonably good condition, it would be priceless. But it wasn't about the money. It was the principal.

Dracula has posed:
The dark gaze of the vampire lord turns towards Lucifer, and there's a hint of a smile that barely finds the corners of his lips. Amusement. "I look forward to the day when that happens. It would be terribly amusing," Vlad comments, giving a small nod. "The sheep deserve to be scared, now and again," he adds in an almost lazy and malevolent manner. For those who know him well enough to judge by his appearance, he is well fed. He reaches the bar, and watches Lucifer a moment. "A whiskey, if you please," he requests.

His gaze turns unblinkingly to Spike, and he faintly inclines his head towards his fellow vampire. "Unexpected, to find you here," he says. And he's quiet a moment, the cane banished away with but a slight gesture of his right hand. "Your presumption is incorrect, I fear. I have not come here to pay you," he says, his voice rich and dark.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer glances between Spike and Dracula for a moment before giving a soft chuckle. "You have debts do you, dear Vlad?" The 'bartender' asks while setting out another glass and filling it with whiskey. "Also, yes, the sheep deserve to be scared every now and again. Why do you think I keep letting you into my club?" A sparkle of amusement hits those blue eyes and he sets Vlad's ordered drink in front of him.

Those eyes shift to the other vampire present and he gestures to a seat at the bar proper. "Might as well come a little closer if you're going to continue sneaking drinks. At least this time I can give them to you properly instead of you pilfering them from a table." Not that Lucifer is upset at this in the slightest. Just means he gets more money from the patrons willing to pay his 'obscene prices'. He leans forward, propped on an elbow and sips from his own whiskey. "I take it the night has been kind to you, Vlad? Do I owe any special favor for this visit?"

Spike has posed:
"Right, some poor sap pisses themselves, and you look forward to it? The great and powerful dark lord of the vampires," Spike said theatrically, raising his arms. There were precious few left here, the devil owned the place, so he felt it perfectly fine to announce that, and if anyone heard who shouldn't, they'd probably just dismiss Spike as another drunk bar patron. Spike got up off his stood, walking towards Dracula and Lucifer, even though the later was still behind the bar, and began clapping his hands together in a mocking gesture at Dracula.

"You've changed Drac. It used to be fire and brimstone, bring the hell on Earth, wrath of the gods, real, theatrical evil. But now you're just playing with yer sheep. Why don't you take yer special dirt and bugger off to Scotland. Plenty of sheep there for you to bugger. I hear they encourage it." That was a two for one, as he got to insult Dracula, and the Scottish people. An English vampire, Spike was efficient in his put downs.

Spike took a seat at Lucifer's invitation, "you'd think after all these years, I'd learn to invest, compound interest, or hell, bury some gold someplace, but never had the patience for it." Spike was highly intelligent. Set his mind to it, and it would get done. He just enjoyed 'living' in the moment. He was his own worst enemy. It wasn't the Scoobies who had foiled his every plan back before he got the chip installed. It was his own hubris.

Dracula has posed:
The elder vampire lifts his right hand to make a slight dismissive gesture at the question from Lucifer. "The debt is nothing. It has lingered for some number of years, and it will continue to do so until such a time as I see fit to tend to it. If I see fit to tend to it," Vlad says, looking to Spike. The shadows continue to skitter around the room, reaching out to touch each human that is yet within the establishment, though whether they will leave or not remains to be seen. He looks to Lucifer and gives a nod as he reaches out to pick up the glass once it's been filled. "Because you enjoy their fear nigh as much as I do," he comments, mildly amused.

He lifts the glass, taking a sip of the whiskey and savouring it. "The night has been fair," he says softly, turning his gaze to Lucifer and giving a small shake of his head. "There is nary a favour owed, and none expected to be give," he adds. His attention shifts to Spike, and he cants his head faintly to one side. "Causing terror is its own reward," he muses, and he seems not to care a whit about the announcement that Spike makes in regards to his identity. "Well, I suppose you ought know such things of Scotland, given the proximity to your homeland. You likely stumbled through it drunk as a skunk and made your tour of the flocks some nights, hmm? Or did you just bleed them dry without taking your pleasure of them?" Vlad says, his voice dark and cold, and a crimson flicker rises into his dark eyes. The shadows deepen, gaining some measure of substance to them, finger-like tendrils of them creeping across the floor.

"You would think that you would at least have learned something of money, given what you thieve and make off with over the years," Dracula comments, lifting the glass to take a sip of the whiskey. He chose to remain standing rather than take a seat.

Detective Chimp has posed:
Detective Chimp comes walking out of the restroom. When you drink like a fish you occasionally have to give the bar back it's due. He comes walking out and a brow raises a bit as he looks around the room, seeing the place has mostly cleared out, but he walks back over towards the bar. He still has drinking that needs to be done.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer looks between the two and shakes his head. "Firstly. If anyone is going to be raining down brimstone and hellfire in this day and age, it's going to be me. I would hope Vlad would not try and outmaster the ruler of such things." Though there's a flicker of a smirk in Vlad's direction, there may be a hint of a challenge there. Those eyes are still a brilliant blue, and within them is a flickering of hellfire where pupils ought be. "Secondly, if you two are going to have a which dick is bigger contest, you might as well just whip them out and I can tell you for certain..." He smirks then before standing up a bit straighter then.

There's a grin passed to Vlad once more before he motions to Spike. "I do have to wonder, in all the years there have been lines created since yours, how they've evolved into stingy thieves. No honor amongst them either it would seem." With his gaze then shifting to Spike properly. "Also, if we can't cause terror, what's the fun in living on this coil to begin with? Having a little fun when and where we can is just a perk really."

About to say more when he catches sight of a third patron and he tilts his head just a bit. "Ah...hello? Can I help you with something?" This to Chimp, of course.

Spike has posed:
Nothing? Nothing! He owes me eleven quid, Spike thought to himself. But he didn't want to give Dracula the satisfaction or getting a rise out of him. Although he did hit one nerve, forcing Spike to pipe up, "it's not years, it's decades - more than a century now that I think about it." It dated back to 1897, a mere 17 years after Spike was sired by Drusilla.

"Proximity." Spike repeats, "as in, we could take that land, but just like the Romans, we knew where to put the border. Scotland is cold, barren, ugly, and it's full of Scots. You'd like it, all bleak and dreary. It's pretty much the same as your homeland, 'cept the Scot part. But Romanians are almost as bad."

Before Spike can get into more of a verbal slinging match with Dracula, someone walks out of the restroom. Looking over at the little man, Spike's eyes go wide. He hadn't noticed that there was a chimp among the patronage. Sure, some of them smelled bad, but there were so many, it masked the scent. And now, yeah, he was looking at a walking chimp dressed in clothing.

Lucifer also come to break it up. "Not really my style. I'm more of a get in, kill the slayer, and get out kind of bloke." Although he had changed that plan quite a bit over the last few years. "Or was, before they put this blasted chip in my head." He sighed a deep and prolonged sigh of relief, then drank the alcohol in front of him in one long swig.

His eyes darting between Dracula and Lucifer about the measuring contest, Spike stood up from his stool, "well, I can't very well back down from a challenge like that. After all, I'm not just fighting for myself, but for England's honor as well."

Though he imagined that Dracula wouldn't be man enough to face him. Was it a calculated risk, or was Spike just arrogant enough to think he would easily win that kind of challenge. Alas, Lucifer was going on about the virtues of terror. "You can get your jollies how you want. Me, I just like to have a good time. I got over the scaring the mortals stuff a long time ago. Though it does keep me in beer and smokes."

Looking over at the chimp, he decides to make a new friend, "he's with me," and slips some cash on the table that he had been hiding in reserve, "another round for me and my friend."

Dracula has posed:
A brief glance is cast towards the chimp-fellow who comes out of the restroom, though his gaze doesn't linger. Instead, he lifts the glass of whiskey to take a sip of it. There is a hint of a smile offered to Lucifer when he lays claim to brimstone and hellfire, and he inclies his head towards the Lord of Hell. "Of course, such things are best wielded by the master of them," he says softly, perhaps deferring to Lucifer. At least where those two elements are concerned. Then he chuckles softly before taking a drink of his whiskey, and he gives a small shake of his head. "It is an old rivalry," Vlad comments, a touch of amusement to his voice. He chuckles softly, then lifts his free hand to lightly comb his fingers through his hair. "Honour is not for all, not with men and not with what we are, either," he muses. "It is a rather fun thing, to cause terror and to use it towards one's own benefit," he adds. His reputation, after all, wasn't made by giving away puppies and kissing babies.

Dracula lifts his glass, idly swirling the liquid within it before takig a sip of it. "So it has been. And it will be longer, still. Though Scotland sounds more like your kind of place," he comments. He gives a soft chuckle, and then he lifts one of his shoulders in a bit of a shrug. "More like you put the border where you were fought back to by the Scots because you were too weak to beat them back further," he says. Then he gives a dark laugh. "If your goal is to kill the slayer then it would seem you rather fail, old chap. Last I heard, there were two of them running amok," he comments. His gaze shifts to Spike's head as though perhaps considering where that chip might be located. "There is an easy way of removing the chip. Although it may have... fatal... side effects," he says, a dark grin turning at the corners of his lips.

"I have issued you no challenge, as of yet. Perhaps I will, one day, though if I do, then it is unlikely to be one that you would enjoy," he comments, a hint of a smile touching his lips. He lifts his free hand and makes a slight gesture, and the shadows that had been teasing around the bar simply vanish as though they hadn't been there.

Detective Chimp has posed:
Detective Chimp looks to Lucifer, and says "I'm just here to drink, and as long as the living impaired aren't messing with me, I don't plan on messing with them." He does look around a moment, and says "Since the crowd is thinned out you ok with smoking?" He asks bringing out a cigar. As spike offers to buy him a drink he nods over to the other. "I aint here to spy on no one or anything, just looking to make you the price of a few bottles richer."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer sighs and motions to Spike as the man stands up ready to brandish his personal sword. "Sit down." It's spoken in a firm tone, almost a commanding thing and then he takes a breath. "You two are fun to listen to, honestly. I could sit here all night enjoying the back and forth..." This much is offered and then he glances to the Chimp, a brow lifted. "Well I'm glad you aren't here to spy on anyone.. might make things a bit more complicated in the long run." A thought and then he points up to the ceiling and an intake fan turns on. "Smoke if you want. Just try to be under the fan. I don't want it tainting the air and then people think this place is a smoke friendly area."

He reaches across the bar then, trying to keep it subtle as he can, to touch fingers against Vlad's arm. He notices how the shadows disappear almost as quickly as they seemed to be leeching against the bar and that causes him to smirk. Though he looks back to the Chimp then and motions. "So what can I get you then?" Spike's drink is refilled and the money placed on the counter is pushed back towards him. "Save that for something you really need to pay for...between the patrons and the casino, plus those who pay for..." He motions upwards. "Services rendered...I think I can stand to give out a few drinks tonight."

Spike has posed:
"How'd it work out for you and the Turks, or the Hungarians, or the Romanians, or the Germans, or the Russians, hey, has any country ever failed to conquer, oh, what was it called again, it's not Romania, they conquered you, it's not Transylvania, they conquered you, oh, right, Wallachia." Spike may not have existed at the time, but he had the benefit of a classical education, and more to that, he reads, and he saw the movies. Wallachia got conquered again and again by anyone who cared to even try.

"As to how my people fare, remember, we're a damn sight away from the British Isles, and we're all speaking English." Then he pointed to detective chimp, "even the chimp speaks English. I call that a victory in anyone's book." And then Detective Chimp brought out a cigar, and Spike had made a friend for life. He pulled out his pack of smokes, lighting one up, then offering to light the chimp's, and finally, a cigarette for Lucifer, but none for Dracula.

Spike did sit down when he called Lucifer and Dracula's bluff. Not because of the firm tone, but because sitting was more comfortable. At least that's what Spike would tell himself, and anyone else, if they asked. Glad that hi money was refused too. Spike could think of all kinds of frivolous ways to spend it. It was a bit of a game he played with Rupert Giles. The watcher would give Spike cash, and Spike would try and spend the best way to waste it. Looking to the chimp, Spike asked, "what's your name? I'm Spike, this is Lucifer, and this little guy," placing his hands on Dracula's shoulders, gently shaking them, "is Dracula, but we mostly call him Dee." They didn't.

Dracula has posed:
"If none of us wished to be seen, then I would expect we would not have chosen to be out in public," Vlad says, quirking a smile and sounding amused. He looks over towards the chimp in clothing, studying the fellow for a long moment. "I may mess with you, I may not. I have a good drink, at the moment, so you are safe for the moment," he muses. With Dracula, that's a thing that can always change and with very little notice.

There's a soft chuckle that comes from the tall vampire, his gaze easily sliding towards Lucifer. "The smoke will leave nary a taint, I will see to it. Consider it a favour granted," he comments, a dark note to his voice. He doesn't look towards the hand that touches his arm, though he does watch Lucifer in unblinking fashion as the touch is gifted, and there's a hint of a smile that tugs at the corners of his lips. "A generous humour has beset you, it seems. I will not argue to any drink you wish to serve," he says, a hint of amusement to his voice.

His attention turns to Spike, and one of his eyebrows quirks up slightly. "There have been conquerers before, and each of them have been thrown out of the country in their own turn. It is Romania, in the current day," he comments, though seems not to linger on the topic at all. "I could speak other languages, if I wished to," he adds, raising an eyebrow slightly. "But it might be impolite," he muses, lifting one of his shoulders in a slight shrug. The Impaler seems not to mind that he's left out of the 'smoking group'.

"If you persist in calling me thus, then there will be a lengthy conversation that may well involve direct sunlight and your sizzling flesh," Dracula says, his eyes narrowing slightly and a crimson flicker returning to the cores of them. Something about those words is entirely serious. "There is a sun room in my keep, perhaps you might wish to visit it."

Detective Chimp has posed:
Detective Chimp will take the lighter, and says "You can call me Bobo, or Detective Chimp, is what most call me, my real name is a bit hard for humanish types." He offers with a smirk. He adds "And I'm just speaking English cause you fellows are, languages and me well, I can pretty much speak em all, at least in a way." He offers in explanation. He looks over to Dracula, and says "Long as your not messing I aint messing back." He does not show fear amongst these predators. Chimp understands how this jungle works.

Lucifer has posed:
The back and forth between Spike and Dracula continues, and Lucifer still seems amused by it all. "Why take him all the way back to your keep? Surely I have a spot or two I could toss him into if he's really deserving of such.." The Lord of Hell offers with a chuckle and takes the proffered cigarette as well. Has he ever smoked before? Likely. It's not like they'll do anything to him health wise.

"Good thing we're not quite humanish types..." Lucifer comments to Chimp. "Or are we? I suppose the vampires are since they were mortals once... I'm a little more...special." He chuckles then before using a snap of his fingers to light the end of his smoke. A look given to Vlad as if silently asking the vampire if he'd like one.

A smoke, a drink, and then an idle hand reaches to rest on Dracula's closer arm, a little more daring than the previous touch. Perhaps Lucifer just needs it in this moment, perhaps he's being a bit cheeky. It could be a cumulation of both or neither. Only he and perhaps the Vampire Lord would really ever know.

Spike has posed:
"All right Bobo," it was starting to seem like the only reason they were all speaking English was that they were in an English speaking country, and more specifically, Spike didn't speak that many foreign languages. To Lucifer, he said, "hang on, I'm not going anywhere with him, and certainly not until he pays me the eleven quid he owes me."

Though watching the way Lucifer was fondling Dracula, perhaps it was they who should get a room. Lucifer did have an apartment that was a short elevator ride away. "So, Luci, is the kitchen still open? Booze, smokes," he inclined his head, "interesting company, all we need is a few appies. I could really go for some stuffed yorkies with horseradish cream. Or a basket of chips." For a vampire, he had a fairly varied diet. He ate as much human food as he seemed to drink blood.

Dracula has posed:
"Humanish," Dracula repeats, one of his eyebrows quirking up a touch. Then he gives a soft chuckle as he nods. "That is fair and accurate enough," he muses. One of his eyebrows quirks up slightly, and he inclines his head faintly towards the chimp. He doesn't mess with the fellow, even though he easily could and it would likely be amusing to do so.

"It is not so far, to the keep and back. The sun room is quite lovely at this time of year. Sun for more than twelve hours, when the roof is open, and proper chains built into the floor for binding wrist and ankle. Solid stone floor," he offers, a thoughtful tone to his voice. He lifts his drink, takig a sip of the whiskey and savouring it. There is a slight gesture of decline when the smoke is offered to him, and a smile that touches his lips. "Thank you, but not this time," he says.

His gaze turns to Spike, and he exhales a slow breath. He breathes more because it's expected rather than that he has a need for it. People become disturbed when he doesn't breathe. And it does point to the supernatural, as well. "You would not necessarily be going anywhere willingly, at least," Dracula comments, a hint of a smile touching his lips. "The eleven quid was a long time ago. There may be truth to the statement that one ought let bygones be bygones," he comments. Then he raises an eyebrow slightly. "If the cook has not left, then it might be. I believe they call them fries here, old chap," he adds.

Detective Chimp has posed:
Detective Chimp looks over to them, and says "You know the sun thing has always made me wonder. I mean the moon is reflecting the sun's light so moon light is actually sunlight, but guessing it is the reflection or just so weak it is ok. Does Sunlight off a mirror bother you guys?" He asks not sounding like he is planning a trap, but honestly seeming curious.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer grunts and looks over to Spike. "Lucifer is preferred, thank you." Not even Vlad has called him 'Luci', and there's likely a reason for that. "I mean technically I suppose I can have the kitchen staff cook you up something, but they're likely cleaning down for the night." This offered as he shrugs, flicks ashes, and then glances to Dracula. The way the man describes a few things has him pausing, letting his thoughts go a moment to earn a wicked smirk on his lips before he tries to hide it behind a sip of his whiskey.

The question posed by the Chimp is regarded, but he's not the one to answer such a thing. So instead, he refills drinks, finishes his smoke, and otherwise continues to be an almost background figure for the moment. Though he still affords himself a brush or few of fingers against Vlad's arm. Mostly because he can, partly because he desires, definitely because it seems to be driving Spike a little icky.

Spike has posed:
Listening to Dracula talk about the sun room, Spike was drawn in, he was believing it. It was probably true. "You know what Drac," Spike put a hand around his shoulder, shaking his head as he did so, "you just keep being you." And in a lower voice, "because no other sod wants the job."

Spike breathed regularly. It was necessary for talking, for taking a drag of his cigarette, which he did with his other hand, and it was to mimic human existence. He would pant as if he were out of breath after exerting himself. Spike stank of humanity. He was still clinging, with his fingernails, to humanity. He wanted it. He needed it. He could be dark, but it was never dreary. He was all about having fun, sometimes that was dark, sometimes it was light. But he wasn't in it for evil's sake. That was more Angelus' deal.

"Chips, French fries, freedom fries, finger chips, hot chips, or French fried potatoes, call 'em whatever your little black heart desires. I just want some food." He licked his lips while holding the cigarette in one hand, though he didn't seem at all interested in biting the chimp, or the Devil. He wasn't hungry for blood, although he wouldn't say no to a glass, he just wanted something in his belly.

"Seeing as it's one of the few things that dear old Drac here didn't tell Bram Stoker, might as well. In for a penny, in for a pound. Moonlight is too weak. But if we were in here at noon, and somebody decided to angle a mirror by the door, goodbye Bludhaven, hello..." he looked to Lucifer, "so, if you're here, who's running things down there?"

He did put his hands up at the grunt, "oh, all right, Lucifer," he didn't want to get on the bad side of the Devil. With everything he had done, he was likely to meet him once he was done with this not-so-mortal coil. He decided not to press things with the kitchen staff. Another oddity that Spike thought of others. Just what was happening to him? He was becoming... nice.

Dracula has posed:
"Moonlight is not a problem. It is too weak to cause damage," Dracula says, a hint of a smile quirking at the corners of his lips. He lifts his glass of whiskey, taking a sip of the amber liquid. "Reflected from a mirror is a different case. It is akin to direct sunlight, that way," he comments, a thoughtful tone to his voice. He looks to Spike at the fellow's words on the matter, and he gives a nod. "I'm fairly certain that Hell is where both of us are bound, if a permanent death finds us. To suffer our torments for eternity," he adds.

His gaze turns to Lucifer, studying the Devil for a lingering moment, and he gives a soft chuckle before he finishes his drink and pushes the empty glass towards Lucifer. "Another, if you please," he requests, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Worry not over the food. Something will appear to satisfy William's tastes," he comments, a thread of dark amusement to his voice. And something does appear -- a plate of steaming hot fries and a cup of what might look like ketchup but which is just a bit not thick enough. And it smells all wrong, because it's blood.

Then he chuckles softly, and he lifts one of his shoulders in a faint shrug. "There is only one me, and that is rather the way that I prefer it to be," Dracula comments, inclining his head towards Spike. Interestingly enough, he seems to tolerate the arm around him without wreaking any violence over it. "Besides, no other sod would be able to take the job from me. It has been tried before," he says in a dark tone, his eyes glittering crimson. Then there's another plate appearing, with what smells like deep fried cheese.

Detective Chimp has posed:
Detective Chimp hmms and says "And now I wonder if us intelligent animals have to worry about the whole heaven or hell thing, but not something I am going to worry about any time soon." He admits, taking a long sip of his beer before a few puffs on his cigar.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer glances to Spike. "No one. Job's open if you'd like it." He offers to the vampire and then shrugs. Nothing more to really say from himself, he looks to the food that Dracula manifests and gives a soft chuckle. A thought, and then he glances around. "I'm going to go check on something real quick. Vlad, I trust you'll keep the young one in line." A wink to the vampire lord and then he turns and stalks off a moment.

Spike has posed:
"Now that's an interesting thought," no, he didn't mean what Dracula had to say, that was just drivel, but Spike was thinking things through in his mind, expanding on the basic concept of them going to hell. "I lived a good life until I got killed. When I was killed, did that being cease to be, going to heaven or hell, wherever he deserved to go to, and I was created, or am I a continuation of my past self."

"It doesn't sound fair to punish me for acts committed after I died and lost my soul. And if I am a separate being, do I get an afterlife, or am I living my afterlife?" Yeah, Spike could be philosophical when he had just the right amount of booze. It was always lurking underneath; he was just usually too cool to admit it. Looking to Lucifer, he said, "hang on, don't tell me, I'm working this through," since the Devil could very likely answer these questions, but that would take the fun out of it.

Spike looked at the steaming plate of blood fries that Dracula had conjured up. Perhaps it was the smell, perhaps it was that Dracula conjured it, but Spike didn't trust the Lord of Darkness a tenth as much as he could throw him, and he could throw him pretty far. "Not sure we can share that with Lucifer or Bobo, now can we Drac?" He asked, rhetorically. Only for a plate of deep fried cheese to appear. Dracula was in a generous mood it seemed.

Inclining his head towards Detective Chimp, "plus, what about all the other religions. I'd love to hear what Thor and Hercules have to say about your dad," he nodded his head to Lucifer, "or that Raiden fellow, or any of the others. So many pantheons, so little time."

And then at the mention that the job of ruling over hell was open, "really?" He said, almost considering it for a moment. "What's the pay like?" And then Lucifer made his way towards the back. So much for finding out about that pay scale. "Probably wasn't enough anyway." And Spike took another sip of his beer.

Dracula has posed:
"Since Hell is real then I would expect that Heaven is just as real," Dracula comments to the chimp, giving a soft chuckle. "They are things that no one seeks to worry over any time soon, but such things come to every creature, eventually," he muses, his tone thoughtful. Whether or not a permanent sort of death will find him only time will tell. He looks to Lucifer and gives a nod, a smile touching the corners of his lips. "All will remain in order," he says, inclining his head slightly towards Lucifer.

"You would have it be believed that you committed no sins until after you died?" Vlad asks, a touch of curiosity to his voice. "Life with a soul, life without a soul... you still exist, so what you do is still something that could be held against you," he comments, lifting one of his shoulders in a faint shrug. Then he chuckles softly. "There is one way to find out for sure, but... it is perhaps as fatal as the notion of how to remove the chip from your head," he adds.

Then he gives a soft snort. "You can share them with whomever you wish, William," Dracula says, looking towards his fellow vampire. "Perhaps they will eat it and perhaps not. It is entirely safe, I assure you," he adds, inclining his head slightly towards Spike. A generous mood does seem to have possessed him. Though knowing him, all it could take is one stray thing to shift and change that. Perhaps to prove the point, he plucks up one of the fries from the plate and then eats it himself. It would seem, though, that his mood remains fair. The conversation is, at least, relatively pleasant now that the 'required' insults have been slung to and fro, there is good food and good alcohol to drink.