i'll believe in trust if you believe in blindness {Cal}

[Costin Dracula]

Costin had been to see a vampire movie. It was a silly movie, as it turned out, and not an actual documentary as he had been led to believe, but he had found himself laughing more than once, and could not entirely say he was unsatisfied with having spent his money on it. He certainly would not be telling anyone that he had done so, but all in all, it hadn't been a bad way to spend a couple of hours in the early evening. And once he was done, he was in a strangely good mood, maybe better than he had been in at least a week. So, instead of going home, he headed over towards the main row of bars, thinking that he'd get himself a drink.

He deliberately steered clear of the bar he and Mordred had visited; he still had a bad taste in his mouth from what had happened there. Instead, he chose one of the other businesses, a place that looked a little less busy but not entirely dead. He didn't want to be bothered, but if a place was empty he had to believe there was a reason for that, and he wasn't interested in poor alcohol or badly mixed drinks. Reaching up to smooth his hair back (not that it needed it, he used enough gel to be sure of that), he adjusted his collar and stepped into the bar.

Making his way over to the bartender, he shrugged off his outer coat and hung it on the hook beneath the bar in front of the stool he slid into. Working his gloves off one finger at a time, he put them into the pocket of the coat, then sat up straight, trying to maintain his good posture even in the somewhat uncomfortable seat. He wasn't going to be here that long, there was no sense making a fuss about an uncomfortable bar stool.

"Maker's Mark, straight up," he said, sliding his credit card across the counter. He wasn't Mordred, he wasn't going to come in here and order a drink that cost more than a car, but he was in the mood for something a little nicer than a rum and coke, or whatever other people his age were drinking these days. He waited for his drink, and for once, took the moment to look around, wondering if anyone else he knew might be in the bar as well.

[Cal Karnstein]

"Careful," nearly whispered a voice just out of Costin's sight. If he kept on turning to look around, he'd catch the bright haired, lanky, punk sitting just to his left. Well, standing first, though she wouldn't be for long. Rainbow hair, shredded black denim jacket, pants that probably required a crowbar to fit into, pretty standard Cal appearance, really. She signaled the bartender with two fingers, giving them a wiggle and giving said bartender a too-toothy smile.

"There's a guy, back left," she said, turning to look at Costin, "he's been checking out your ass since you sat it down," she let her eyes slide downward, then shrugged. "Not that I blame him, but I'm willing to bet you've got..." Cal's lips pursed as she tapped the bar a few times, "five minutes? Until he works up enough courage to buy you a drink. Maybe fifteen."

Their drinks appeared: Costin's fancy one, and a set of two shots for Cal. One was blood-red and seemed to almost fizz. The other looked to be perfectly clear. Cal reached for the clear one first, holding it up in salute to Costin before knocking it back, not stopping until it was gone and the glass was upside down on the counter.

[Costin Dracula]

Costin's head jerked up and he glanced over at the girl next to him. There were a few things that jumped out at him right away. Her hair was lot of colors he didn't think occurred naturally in nature at all, on a head of hair or anywhere else. She was telling him someone was...looking at his ass? While it was parked on the barstool? And the most prominent thing, and the one that Costin, being Costin, zeroed in on, was her teeth. He did not have a chance to ask about them, even if that had been a socially acceptable thing to do, before she started ordering strange-looking shots.

While she downed the shots, Costin cast a glance over in the direction she'd indicated. He couldn't seem to figure out who she was talking about, and was aware that staring in the direction would either look suspicious or would send an unwanted message to someone who was already apparently paying unwanted attention to his posterior, so he looked back over at Cal instead.

"Why would he do that?" he asked, perplexed. Costin wasn't naive, and with his parental situation being what it was, he certainly had a few ideas why a man would want to buy another man a drink, but it was more the specifics that perplexed him. "I mean, why me, specifically? Do I look approachable? How can I look less approachable?"

[Cal Karnstein]

"You walked in here, dressed like,' she gestured at him, "that. Spent time shoving gloves into your back pocket, settled in and sat like you're nervous," she reached for her own blood red shot, licking her lips for a moment, "and the first thing you looked at when you saw me, besides the hair, was my teeth."

She knocked back the shot, almost shivering as the spiked blood slid into her body, warming all the way down. She turned the glass slowly, gently setting the lip of it down on the bar. Streaks of red ran down the glass for a moment, Cal pausing to look at them. Huh, she usually polished those off. She licked her lips again, feeling the slight burn that came from it.

"Personally? I'd say look totally disinterested in me. Give him the come hither sort of look. Get the drink, and tell him to fuck off," she held up another few fingers, and the bartender made her empty glasses disappear. "Or I'd let him ride my ass like a pony," she leaned back, looking into the corner. "Dunno, guy does look kinda bearish. You into the husky type?"

[Costin Dracula]

Costin glanced down at his clothes, and shrugged. He was aware it wasn't ordinary garb for someone his age; he had received quite enough comments of that variety to have convinced him of that fact. But she was just...listing his oddities, apparently, and chief among them was that he had noticed her teeth. She was observant, very much so, to have picked up on the things he'd noticed, and the order in which he'd noticed them. "Call it a predilection for things vampiric," he said, watching as she threw back the shot, eyes on the liquid in it. It didn't look just like the blood his fathers drank, it seemed...brighter, somehow.

He was still distracted by the idea that the guy back there wanted to...ride his ass like a pony, or whatever it was she was saying. He was in no way interested in sleeping with, or really even speaking to, the man in question, and he shrank down a little, leaning over his drink on the bar. "I'm not...no." He was flustered. He hated being flustered. "I am not interested. He's not my type." He didn't really mention that no one was his type, that if he had a type it would be strong tactless warrior women, or one of those specifically, who could really say for sure. "I already have a drink." God, he had to explain this to everyone, didn't he, whether they knew his fathers or not. Why was that?

"I am not interested in men, I am interested in your teeth," he said, redirecting the conversation back to that. "Are you a vampire?" Costin did not know any vampires who weren't friends of his parents, and no friend of his parents would have considered changing him without their approval, that would have been a horrible social faux pas. But this girl...Costin had definitely never seen her at any of the vampire parties.

[Cal Karnstein]

Predilection for things vampire? Good lord, was he one of those types? Cal had seen them a time or two, even had her vampiric mother point them out. Vampire groupies: often the sort who read the wrong sort of novels and had a romantic view of the grouping as a whole. They were laughable at their worst, and almost dangerous at times. And here Cal had been carelessly drinking her blood mixture in front of him.

Well, at least she'd be ready if he tried. Plus, right now, he was mostly flailing about in a decidedly adorable way. "Careful, you're getting pink there," she pointed out, flicking a finger his way. "And the idea would be to get multiple drinks. You some kinda rookie barfly or something? Oh, my poor Padawan," Cal sighed, shaking her head, "you have much to learn of the force."

She tapped the glass as he insisted he wasn't interested in men (a bit too strongly) or her teeth (fucking liar right there). "Half," she replied, her voice dipping into a serious tone. She looked over at him. "One mother," she held up, "other's a literal ice queen. I'm also one hundred percent theirs biologically. OH, and that's definitely blood," she tapped her last shot. "With a crap ton of---some energy drink. You know, I never get specific on that one? Maybe I should get particular..."

[Costin Dracula]

One of those types. Oh, if only she knew. She didn't know, though, she couldn't, and he had no intention of spilling all of his deepest secrets to her, even if she was warning him about the ill intentions of other bar patrons. He did appreciate that. Was he really turning pink? Why would he be? Costin frowned, a little perplexed. He didn't think he'd embarrassed himself yet; he had been very straightforward about being interested in her teeth, but...he didn't think he'd been showing his social discomfort that painfully.

He wasn't listening to her all that closely, he was still distracted by the idea of being...seduced, or whatever, by some random person in this bar, which was, coincidentally, the exact reason he didn't go to bars in the first place. But he did overhear one thing. One mother, and another.

"Both of my fathers are vampires," he said, before he could really stop himself. He had met other people with two fathers, and other people with two mothers, but he could not say that he'd ever met anyone who had that and a vampire parent in common with him. "That's why I asked about the teeth, it's a family thing, not like...a weird fetish, or one of those sorts of things." He was a little suspicious, too, honestly; he had never met a half vampire before, and in his own world, he wasn't even sure they existed. He was aware that there were other sorts of vampires than the ones he'd been raised by; Lorelei had talked about sparkling ones, and he wondered what sort had created this girl.

He glanced over his shoulder towards the corner, trying to make sure the pony-riding guy wasn't looking like he'd come over. "I'm Costin," he said. He said his own name cautiously, almost like he was expecting her response to be something hostile.

[Cal Karnstein]

Both vampires? But he didn't have the vampire thing himself, which meant he probably wasn't biologically theirs. Then again, sometimes magic did weird things to people. Cal was curious, but she wasn't one to quite start prying. Plus, something in the way Costin said it reminded her of the same way Blossom talked about his dad: there was a wound or two there. Maybe it would be worth picking it apart to get it to heal properly, but Cal wasn't going to start doing that sitting on a bar stool after just discussing guys hitting on him and all.

"Ah, gotcha, familial interest," she said, tapping her glass again. The bartender shuffled, likely taking the sign for a refill. Cal actually hadn't meant it that way, but she was hardly going to argue with the results. She kept drumming as he actually introduced himself.

"Cal," she said, extending a hand, "and I tell you what, Padawan Costin," she said, "I promise not to give you shit about the vampire thing if you don't make it creepy. You got questions, you can go ahead and ask. I'm an open book. Actually," she tilted her head, "I'm probably more of a graphic novel, one of those disgusting, indie things that are printed in small shops."

[Costin Dracula]

Costin shook the hand he was offered, frowning a little as he considered her...well, it was a deal of sorts she was offering him, it seemed. How would she know there was shit to give him over the 'vampire thing' - had he made it that obvious? Also, did she just describe herself as disgusting? What a strange woman.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Cal," he said, although the truth of that definitely remained to be seen. He hadn't decided what his impression of her even was yet. She was peculiar, but then, Costin himself had been called many worse things than peculiar in his life. "I will do my very best to not 'make it creepy,' as you say, although my fathers are especially creepy vampires, if I'm being honest, so I may have inherited some of it. Do you mind if I ask what sort of vampire your mother is? I only ask because I have always been told that my parents are not the sort that can reproduce, with another vampire or anyone else. I am adopted, as you may have already concluded."

Maybe it wasn't normal conversation, to go around asking new acquaintances in bars what sort of vampires their parents were, but this was too unique of an opportunity for him to pass up entirely, and she had just offered herself as an open book of information, after all.