Owner	Pose
Dracula	It is somewhat past the middle of the night. A waxing crescent of moon shows as a sliver in the sky, shedding barely any light into the dark night. The stars offer little in the way of their own illumination. Fog has slithered in to settle in some areas, and not all of the streetlights are currently casting their weak pools of light. It is a rather good night for those who prefer darkness, for those who are nocturnal. For those like Vlad. There might be a reason for him to have come to the park or there might not be. If he has a purpose then it isn't readily evident. He is, as has come to be his usual, dressed in black. And since the temperature of the summer night bothers him nary at all, it is made up of a long peacoat, a long-sleeved button up shirt, a pair of slacks, and a pair of matte leather shoes. The shirt has a crimson pocket square tucked into the pocket of it. His hair, as well as his neatly trimmed goatee and mustache are also black, and his eyes are dark brown. Dracula leans lightly against the slanted pole of a swingset, hidden mostly by the shadow of night, and for the moment it would seem that he does little besides letting his gaze wander the park. A crimson-skinned apple is held in the fingers of his right hand, and he lifts his left hand to snag the pocketsquare free before deftly polishing it.
Spike	"Apple Park is frightening the dark, all the vampires are running wild, someone got their neck bit in the rain, " Spike sang to himself, parodying MacArthur Park by Richard Harris, as he trudged through the park, back to where he had parked his 1959 DeSoto Fireflite. Having been up in Westchester last night, he had to wait out the sun, as he was too far from his car to get back, and while he was quite happy to walk through Bludhaven with a blanket over him, since he knew all the hiding places, and the extensive subterranean passages, it was a bit different up here. His approach was obvious. Spike was making quite a noise with his shoes hitting the grass, still wet from the sprinklers that had gone off recently. They had to water it or else it would die in this heat. Although then he saw Dracula, and took his hands out of his pockets, "what the devil are you doing up here?" No hello, no how are you, but an incredulous approach.
Willow Rosenberg	Poor Willow. She had happened to be in the presence of not ONE, but *TWO* vampires. Presently she had just finished her ritual for the coming of the crescent moon. Nothing too fancy, in fact, she really came out at this time to think about *Stuff*. Capital S stuff. At first she was going to say 'hi Spike', but something made her hold off. And a good thing too: Spike had words to say to someone else. And he didn't sound happy. She stood in the underbrush and watched.
Dracula	The apple that he polishes makes a slight squeaky sound beneath the touch of the pocketsquare. He draws the latter away, gives it a light shake, and then neatly tucks it into the pocket of his shirt once again. The noise of the other vampire's passage had caught his attention earlier, but he dallies a moment before looking in his direction. No point in giving away too readily just how keen his senses are, after all. Vlad watches for a long moment, and then he looks forward, lightly tossing the apple up before catching it easily. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he turned the apple about almost as though looking for blemishes. There were none, upon this particular specimen. One of his eyebrows quirks as he looks towards Spike at the greeting, and he chuckles softly, the sound rich and deep, albeit brief. "A fine night to you as well, William. I am taking in the scenery. Is that against your liking?" he asks, a flicker of curiosity coming to his voice. Shifting his weight, he straightened so that he was no longer leaning, standing instead his full height. His tongue flicked out to briefly pass across his lips, and he tilted his head just a touch to one side. "You might as well step out, my dear. I am aware of your presence," he says, the corners of his lips turning up a touch.
Spike	Technically, Willow was in the presence of one vampire, and one entity formerly known as a vampire. Poor Spike, he could do the vampire face, he was undead, immortal, strong, fast, and agile, but he didn't get to enjoy the fun of sinking his fangs into a tender young neck. He didn't get to feel the juices flowing. He had to be a good little vampire, or else the Scooby Gang would put him at the top of their dust list. Plus, she could take care of herself, but with Spike around, she had backup. Or would once she revealed herself. Although when Vlad mentioned her, Spike had to admit that he too had noticed her. Vampire senses were pretty keen, and he was quite familiar with Willow. Deciding against answering Dracula's question, and instead going into strangely protective mode. "You go after her, you and I are going to have issues, and they'll be a whole lot bigger than the eleven quid you owe me."
Willow Rosenberg	So.. He knew Spike by his proper name. Interesting. More important: he knew that she was there! Blushing, she came out from the trees. "Rats." Sure now that she thought of it, Spike probably knew she was around. If her Birkenstocks didn't give her away, her faint smell of strawberry and sage would have. Spike did have ultra senses after all! But this.. man? Maybe she was noisy somewhat earlier? She waves as she comes out. "Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."
Dracula	Tilting his head a touch to one side, Vlad turns his gaze towards the other vampire to study him for a long moment. A quiet moment, as well. The apple is neatly and slowly lobbed up and then caught, and he lightly turns it about within his fingers. "Tell me, William... when is the last time that you fed, hmm?" he asks, a flicker of curiosity behind the question. "Always with the eleven quid, is it not? Why don't you introduce me to your friend, instead, since you would so willingly risk your life for hers?" he suggests, lifting his free hand to gesture slightly towards the redheaded woman. "I have made nary a motion at all towards going after her, William. I stand here in peace... thus far," Dracula says, the corners of his lips turning up slightly. His attention turns more fully towards the redheaded woman, watching as she approached from the trees. "There is no apology needed. By all means, please come forward and interrupt," he says, a hint of curiosity to his voice. "I could smell the scent of you -- strawberry and sage, unless I am mistaken, and I could hear your heart beating," he offers even without being asked.
Spike	Dracula seemed to enjoy taunting Spike, but Spike refused to allow it to get under his skin. He may not have been as old as Dracula, or others, but he knew the score, and had achieved more, ill and good, in his time than most. "Willow Rosenberg, this is Vlad the third or Wallachia, also known as Vlad the Impaler, Vlad Dracula, Lord of Darkness, Prince of Darkness, Dark Lord of the Sith, Lord Voldemort, Bram Stoker's Dracula, and pretty everything else you might have heard." He paused, not that he needed to breath, but he pretended he did, "and Drac, not only is she under my protection, Slayer protection, Justice League protection, but she's also probably a future candidate for Sorcerer Supreme, so best lay off." His voice softening, "And Will, what the devil are you doing up here too? Where's Xander and the other Scoobies?"
Willow Rosenberg	..oh.. Ooooohhh! Sure, perhaps he could have smelled her hair, but the only way he could have sensed her heartbeat /and/ knew Spike's real name /AND/ had Spike standing up for her? He wasn't an ordinary man. In fact she was beginning to suspect he was a vampire. But who? Afterall she didn't hear him calling him 'Vlad' (duh, that was a big hint). "Really? Did you really stand up for me, Spike?" He must have gotten past their little tiff to do that. And *then* he laid out the full name. "Oh." She had to stop everything for a minute and think. "The Scoobies are doing whatever they do. I was having a ritual for the crescent moon." ie. something to keep her mind off of her magic studies and her inevitable slide down from the 'good' side to the middle of the road (or worse..). Then something caught her attention. "Do you really think that, Spike? The Sorcerer Supreme?"
Dracula	The dark gaze of the elder vampire turns towards Spike, and one of his eyebrows nudges upwards a touch. "Well... at least you managed to get some of the titles correct and accurate," Vlad comments, a touch wry and amused. Shifting the apple slightly within his hand, his gaze falls to it for a moment to look it over briefly before his gaze turns to Spike once again. "If you are attempting to instill fear in me by way of dropping so many names who would rally to her protection, then you have failed. I do not fear them, and I do not fear her," he says, giving a slight nod towards the redheaded woman. He turns his attention towards Willow, and he inclines his head towards her. "'Oh', she says," Vlad says, then softly tsks before glancing towards Spike. "You see what happens when you lay it all out so thickly? It fails to capture the attention," he says. His attention turns back to Willow, and he extends his left hand with the apple resting upon it. "Would you care for an apple, Miss Willow?" he offers, a polite tone to his voice. "For better or for worse, it would seem that he did stand up for you. I am not here for a meal or to feed, I assure you," he adds. Not yet, at least. It could always change, at the whims of the hunger that burns within him.
Spike	"Well... yeah!" Spike said, a little surprised at his protectiveness as well. Of course, of all the Scoobies, he probably hated Willow the least. Well, after Joyce Summers. Maybe Dawn too. But he liked Willow far more than Xander, Giles, and all the wannabes. Of course, that could be taken as his assessment of her magical potential too. Spike decided to get some of them right, throwing in some pop culture references. He knew exactly who Dracula was, but he still had to mess with him. "What, weren't you Voivode of Wallachia?" Spike lowered one brow, raising the other, giving himself a curious look, "three times if I remember correctly. Hey, what's up with that? How come you kept losing your title? Misplace the palace was it? Didn't pay the Turks enough tribute?"
Willow Rosenberg	"Oh no," Willow happens to be using the phrase a lot though. "It did impress me, but, really I don't scare very well these days." After all, the Scoobies did deal with so much that it took a lot for her to be shaking in the boots. Or Birkenstocks as it happens. However she kept her hands to herself. No touching!! "No thank-you. I'm sure you didn't really think I was going to accept, did you?" Willow casts a look on Dracula. "Isn't there something about accepting a gift from your hand leaving me at your mercy later?"
Dracula	The elder vampire turns his dark gaze towards Spike, watching him unblinkingly for a long moment. "Perhaps you ought read a history book of Romania if you wish to know why such a thing might have come to pass. Revolts are not uncommon in such darker ages," Vlad comments. "Next time perhaps I will have to make sure that you are included amongst the lawn ornaments," he adds with a quirk of a smile. An offhand reference towards his Impaler nickname. His attention shifts back to Willow, and he tilts his head a touch to one side as he studies her. "My intention is not to impress you or to scare you, as of this moment," Vlad says, a hint of a smile touching his lips. He lightly tosses up the apple, and this time it doesn't get caught but does instead simply slowly rotate on its axis, extending a short distance out from him. "You are welcome to accept it or to deny it. There are no strings attached to it either figuratively or literally. It is simply an apple," he says, quirking a hint of a smile. How often is an apple just an apple? With it denied, he inclines his head slightly towards her and then the apple simply vanishes. "There are some creatures who tie accepting gifts to consequences," he says softly. Whether or not he does, he doesn't say.
Spike	"But is it Romanian?" Spike asked, "From what I read, you were born in Hungry, became Voivode," then turning to Willow, who likely knew, but just in case she didn't, "a lot would say it means prince, but warlord would be a better translation. Bit of a petty thug really, carving up territory, a mediaeval protection racket. And because of an Irishman, everybody seems to think you're from Transylvania. So, I guess that makes you a mutt, doesn't it?" He did love to twist the knife on people who stood on ceremony. "The benefits of a classical education. I know all about you, before Varnae got his teeth into you, not so interesting afterwards. You know they still think of you as a hero in the old country. Like bloody Genghis Khan in Mongolia." He shook his head. With Dracula offering Willow the apple again, Spike mentioned, "beware vampires bearing gifts. How'd that forbidden fruit thing work out for Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden? Drac, you really need to update your playbook."
Willow Rosenberg	"Well," Willow speaks very carefully and softly, watching her words, "You will have to forgive me if I do not take it from you." The same as she wouldn't accept a drink at the bar, unless she could watch it being poured and given immediately to her. "I hope you don't mind?" Heck, really she shouldn't be having this conversation with him. But then there was Spike. Surely he made it safer? Unfortunately, Spike opened his mouth at the precise wrong time. "Then again, he did say nothing bad will come if it." Adam and Eve! Hah! She didn't believe that story. Much as she didn't believe most of the Bible. "Did you know, according to tradition, Adam had another wife before Eve. Her name was Lilith. She was a demon, older than most of the universe. Adam did not approve of her because she did not listen to him. So he asked Yahweh to give him an obedient wife instead." "I don't believe that Adam would be fooled by wife *obedient* wife into trying the apple. Do you?" She takes the apple.
Dracula	There's a breath that Vlad exhales slowly, and his dark gaze turns to Spike to regard him in a steadfast manner. "You know this very well already, William," he says, raising an eyebrow slightly. "It was Wallachia, when I was born there," he comments, lifting his left hand to lightly brush a non-existent fleck of lint from his shirt. "Have you been reading Stoker, again?" he inquires, tilting his head slightly to one side. "It was a different time then than what it is now," he comments, lifting one of his shoulders in a bit of a shrug. "People are welcome to think what they wish of my origins, either true or otherwise. It matters little to me. Wallachia was founded decades before I was born, after a rebellion against Hungary. In the eighteen hundreds, Moldavia and Wallachia united together to form the United Principalities and it adopted the name of Romania," he offers, his tone sounding patient. Then there's a hint of a smile that tugs at the corners of his lips. "Funny how that works, is it not? Take back one's country from invaders, establish proper rule, and see what happens. Though with your home country, they are as liable to run you through a guillotine for trying," he comments. He makes a soft tsk sound, and then he lifts one of his shoulders in a faint shrug. "He seems to have worked out just fine given that they ultimate spread across the earth to spill the fruit of their loins everywhere. Need I remind you, were it not for them leaving the Garden, you would likely not exist," he comments. And the apple reappears, hovering in the air. Dracula turns his gaze towards her, and then he inclines his head in her direction. "I mind it not at all. You are of free will to do as you wish and as you choose. I shall not seek to compel you into anything tonight," he says, a smile touching at the corners of his lips. He watches then as she takes the apple, and then he inclines his head towards her. "May it be as you prefer them to be the most," he says softly. "Lilith, the mother of monsters and sometimes called the mother of demons. As I understand it, she was a vampire and also possessed of significant magical prowess," he adds, tilting his head a touch to one side.
Spike	"Oh, so you weren't born in Sigisoara? Somebody ought to update the history books, because back when you were born, that town was part of the Kingdom of Hungary. And no, can't now, can I?" He said, a mixture of amusement and pettiness in his tone as he said the last part. Since Dracula saw to it that Spike couldn't read Stoker, even if he wanted to. He only bought it in the first place because Drusilla wanted a copy. It amused Spike that he seemed to know more about Wallachia's history than Dracula, since Wallachia was founded decades before Dracula was born, although it was more than ten decades, so easier to say more than a century, but Spike let that one slide. "Right, he'll seek to compel you another night," Spike reminded his friend, or at least colleague. He wasn't sure what they were exactly. "Before my time on that garden of Eden thing really, plus, I never much gave in to organised religion. Always seemed a bit shady to me."
Willow Rosenberg	"Of course it all depends on which version you read." Willow smiles ever so faintly. "But, yes, some say she was the first vampire. You don't seem surprised that I know of her." In theory she's in the Bible. In fact very few people know of her. So far she only holds the apple.
Dracula	"Sighisoara," Vlad says, his gaze lifting to the night sky, the city's name spoken with accurate pronunciation. Then he gives a small shake of his head. "This is old history, William. You know as well as I do that if you looked at a border in that region for too long on any given day, then, that it would move by leaps and bounds for the ongoing rebellions or revolts of the day," he says, raising an eyebrow slightly. There's a smirk that touches his lips, and he lifts one of his shoulders in a slight shrug. "It was not the only copy in existence, now was it?" he suggests. "Go buy your own copy, if you want one." Wallachia's founding was a year over a century before he had been born. Dracula hadn't been particularly aiming for giving specific dates. "You are so willing to believe the worst. I am not here to feed on the young woman, or to bind her to me in any fashion," he comments, raising an eyebrow slightly. "I will grant that organized religion has its purposes. Good and bad. Though it often seems to be that the main purpose is for hoarding money from the masses and being a thorn in our sides," he adds, lifting one of his shoulders in a slight shrug. His attention shifts to Willow, and he tilts his head a touch to one side before giving a small nod to her. "Indeed, the history changes with the book it is read from. A history book from one country claims a territory as theirs in a particular year while one from another country claims the same territory as belonging to another," Vlad says, a smile touching at the corners of his lips. "As I have heard it, which could be wrong, Lilith was the second vampire. Turned by Cain," Dracula says, a thoughtful note to his voice. He chuckles softly, the sound amused. "I am not surprised that you know of her. Her knowledge is not wide spread. Yet those who keep such company as you do, based on the protectors that William mentioned would rush to your defense, would be likely to know of her."
Spike	"Yeah, well, my lot like to draw boundaries. They've lasted, which is about the only good thing you can say about it." Since the British Empire drew untold numbers of lines on maps, separating ethnic groups, and splicing them together with others. It's especially bad in Africa. "I'd rather have the signed first edition," which he really would, and besides it being funny, was why he kept on about it. Plus, Dracula had never once offered the money to replace it. Perhaps it was a game they were playing. "I talk about being a Big Bad, back in the good old days, I would drive a railroad sp..." he looked to Willow, and cleared his throat, "suffice it to say, I did bad things. But I don't have anything on you." Dracula, from what he knew, was as evil as the master. Although a lot of that was reputation, so he didn't know just how bad, or muddled, he really was. Interjecting on Dracula's history discussion with Willow, Spike raised his hand, "oh, if it exists, we probably claimed it was ours. At this point, it's easier to list the places that the Empire never claimed. Don't worry, it's not a very long list." Spike did have a long drive ahead of him, and his car did have everything blacked out except a small gap for him to see the road, while keeping him in shade, but he didn't want to leave with Willow still here. Buffy would dust him for leaving her alone with Dracula. "Willow, do you need a ride back to the city?"
Willow Rosenberg	"She really didn't need to be one, you know. She was a demon. Before god." Willow was certain of that fact. Though even fewer people might not know of it. "Me?" Spike was looked at. "I guess?" He was right. Regardless of what *she* wanted, the others would have a conniption if he left her here with Dracula alone. "I guess I should give you this back." But not without a grin. "Maybe *I'm* the one you should be worried about giving *you* a gift." She tossed him the apple. "Very nice meeting you under the circumstances."
Dracula	"I have no doubt that they do," Vlad comments, a smile touching at the corners of his lips as he looks towards Spike. "And wherever they know not where to put a boundary for certain, they place it where it favours them the most," he adds, sounding a trifle amused. He tilts his head a touch to one side, and then he gives a nod to his fellow vampire. "I can understand that. A shame, really," he says. He's never offered to replace it or to pay for it or any other sort of compensation, so perhaps it is a game between the pair of them. A bone to toss back and forth. "Oh, come now, William... are you too shy to say what you used to do to people whilst in front of a lady? Are you bashful?" he suggests, a spark showing briefly in his eyes. "Polearms are excellent weapons for impaling," he comments, lifting one of his shoulders in a brief shrug. "The Empire was fond of claiming any territory it spied," he says, quirking a smile. One of his eyebrows quirks up as Spike offers Willow a ride, and he tilts his head a touch to one side. "Despite my words that I mean no ill intent, you still think that I would cause her harm," Dracula states, making a soft tsk of sound with his tongue. His attention shifts to Willow, and he inclines his head towards her. "She was. It is why she bears the name of Mother of Demons," he says, a hint of a smile touching his lips. As the apple is tossed back to him, he lifts his left hand to easily catch it, and then quirks a bit of a grin as he watches her. "Perhaps, my dear. Perhaps. It was very nice to meet you as well, and I look forward to when our paths might cross again," he says. He seems almost certain that it will.
Spike	"Yes, you," Spike said in a caring voice, "I'd prefer not to be hunted by an angry slayer, if it's all the same to you." He may have killed two of them, but that was when he could properly fight back. Psychological warfare with a slayer only worked when she didn't see it coming, but an irate Buffy, or Faith, or both, well, Spike wouldn't last long if they devoted every waking moment to dusting him after leaving Willow with the Lord of Darkness. "Look, Drac, I don't mean to offend... wait, I do mean to offend. I love to offend. But anyway, I trust you about as far as she could throw you. The only way I'm leaving her alone with you is..." turning to Willow, he asked, but not whispered, "if he made one of those unbreakable vow spells, could he break it? You know this magic stuff better than I do." Willow and Dracula both did, while Spike knew of magic, but wasn't a practitioner.
Willow Rosenberg	"It depends on what he binds it with." Well, she was truthful. "But in general, if he binds himself, he is bound. The magic users came up with the original rules so that in all but the very few bits of.. well.. twisting the truth, we can believe our fellow magic users." Willow asked him, "Why?"
Dracula	"Now that might be interesting to see. An angry Slayer chasing you all about town," Dracula comments, a hint of amusement coming to his voice. He lightly tosses the apple up into the air and at the height of the toss, it vanishes and goes... somewhere else. Nowhere in sight, at least. Lifting his right hand, he makes a slight gesture to summon a cane out of thin air, the length of it black and the head of it showing a metallic gleam. His attention turns to Spike, and he tilts his head to one side. "You often mean to offend, William. It is part of your charm," he comments, a smile touching his features. One of his eyebrows quirks. "If I chose to make an unbreakable vow of the magic variety then I would not be breaking it," he says, then gives his head a brief shake. "Take her home if you wish it, William. She and I shall meet again," he says, inclining his head slightly towards his fellow vampire.