Big Tipper

Holy Water

At first glance, Holy Water looks like a proper upscale bar. Simple grey floors and walls, wine casks and shelves filled with several varieties of wine take up the majority of the room. A light oaken bar is surrounded by several matching chairs. The entire wall behind the bar is a lighted glass cooler of various whites and roses. Several large signs state 'NO VAMPIRES ALLOWED' and 'ANY VAMPIRE ON THE PREMISES WILL BE SHOT WITH SILVER ON SIGHT'. It is no wonder that Holy Water is a favored hangout for those the align themselves with the Fellowship of the Sun.
There is a hidden secret within Holy Water; a secondary lounge in the lower level which most refer to simply as 'The Cellar'. This area contains two billiards tables, a disc jockey booth, and another bar that sells everything except wine, as that can be found in abundance upstairs. Couches and booths line the walls, and a small dance floor is situated in front of the gaming tables.

After having covered someone's shift at the library, Mischa finds himself needing a bit of a stiff drink. Having to file books in the children's section will do that to a man from time to time. He steps into the bar and looks around curiously before seating himself at the bar. The big bright signs that say 'no vampires' get little more than a raised brow from him. The man reaches up to run his fingers through his hair while waiting for a server or the bartender to take notice of him — not that he's exactly notable in the first place. He seems a bit out of place in a bar, to say the least.

It's just the usual crowd in the bar, and not very many of them at the moment, so Raven is at the main bar wiping it down with a clean white cloth when Mischa walks in. She nods in his direction to let him know that she'll be with him in a minute and gives the bar one last swipe with the towel before she makes her way over to him, "Evening. What can I get you?" She offers him a friendly smile and half leans on the bar as she waits, her dark hair tucked behind one ear.

"Ah, good evening, miss." Mischa takes his wallet out of his pocket and starts to sift through it, eventually getting to a ten dollar bill. "Could I get a coquito, please?" He eyes the signs, then looks Raven up and down for a moment as if checking for something. "I, ah… I think this should cover it. That's a very staunch anti-vampire policy you seem to have here. Safety precautions?" He asks. From the way his voice sounds, it doesn't seem like he's being a smart aleck. The tall man looks around the bar at the patrons and furrows his brow, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose with his index finger.

A small twitch to one side of her lips betrays Raven's amusement at being called 'miss' and she nods, "Of course." She moves about behind the bar as she prepares the requested drink, looking back at him with a mildly interested expression at the question. She shrugs faintly and glances at one of the signs, "No, Angele just doesn't like vampires all that much. Didn't feel that the customers would be comfortable knowing that there was the possibility of the person sitting next to them might want to have them for dinner. And not in a nice way."

Mischa nods very slightly. "Well, I suppose that's… considerate of her. I know a lot of people feel put out by the whole vampire debate. Where do you stand on it?" He asks curiously, before turning a faint shade of red and smiling politedly at Raven. "If you can get into that. I guess that it might cause some interesting work politics if you were to say that you actually liked vampires." Mischa lets out a quiet chuckle after that and puts his ten dollar bill down on the counter. "Angele is the proprietor of the establishment, I'd presume?"

Raven just shrugs a little, "It keeps her happy and has gotten us a few new customers." Like many members of the Fellowship of the Sun. She laughs lightly and slides his drink across the bar, "That's six-fifty, please. Personally, I don't have an opinion one way or the other about them." She wipes up a small spill of coquito on the edge of the bar, "I fugure we should just live and let live, or whatever it is they do." She smiles and offers another customer a small wave as they leave, "As long as I don't let any of them into the bar, no one really minds what I think." She takes the ten and turns to the register beind the bar to get him his change, nodding as she returns, "Um hm. I've worked here for about five years now."

Mischa takes the actual coin change from Raven, but leaves her with the rest. "Please, your tip." He nods at her words, quirking a brown as he listens. "Live and let unlive, or something like that. I'm not entirely sure either. I can't say I generally get out too much at night." He takes a sip of the coquito that's been put in front of him, giving a thumbs up. "My compliments to the bartender. Five years? My, that's an accomplishment. I take it you enjoy the job, or it must pay well. I've been where I work…" He does the math in his head and looks pained for a moment before he laughs. "Entirely too long. Seven years, actually."

Raven's already open smile warms to a genuinely friendly one at the size of the tip and laughs lightly at that, "I suppose that's the way to word it." She looks toward the the doors and laughs, "Yeah, I'm usually out until four every morning. The dangers of working in a bar, and all." His complement earns a small bow and a smile, "Honestly, I just really like it here. Most of the regulars are really wonderful people." She gives him a sympathetic look, "Well, at least it means you can hold a job. I know some people that can't even work the same place for one year, much less seven."

The man laughs at Raven's final comment, flashing his pearly whites in a grin at her. "Thanks, but it's mostly because not many people want to work at a library. I can't honestly say that it was my childhood dream to adhere to the Dewey Decimal system for the rest of my life, but… as you say, I really like it there." Mischa takes another sip of his drink and then looks at the watch on his left wrist, his eyes widening. "I didn't realize how late it already was. Time flies when you're having traditional Puerto Rican Christmas drinks. …Don't ask. It's something I picked up in college…" He trails off there and looks a little more somber suddenly before he takes in a breath and smiles at Raven once more. "You're safe after you leave at night, yes? Carrying mace and… silver, I presume."

Raven shrugs, "Well, even if no one else wants the job, it's still an accomplishment." She shudders dramaticly and tries to hide a wince, "Uh, yeah. I wouldn't want to live my life according to the Dewey Decimal system." She looks at the man curiously, "Have somewhere else to be?" Or maybe just an early day tomorrow. She laughs softly at the comment about his drink and closes her eyes for a moment, sighing with exasperation and muttering something that sounds like a complaint about another one. Whatever 'another one' might be, "Could you excuse me for a moment?" She puts one hand to her temple and walks to the end of the bar, away from customers, and does something mysterious which includes drinking half a glass of water. She returns moments later, "Sorry about that. You were asking if I take precautions at night?" She nods faintly, being careful how she moves her head, "Yes, I carry mace and silver both."

Mischa shakes his head. "No, no. Nowhere to be except for home in bed soon. I'm one of those people who just can't seem to function without a solid ten hours or something." He lets out a quiet laugh at that before he takes his wallet out again and lays a five dollar bill down on the counter top. "Another tip for humouring me and having a conversation with an old boring librarian." He picks his coquito up and finishes it in one fell swoop, eyes widening a bit. Mischa licks his lips clean of the milky alcoholic drink before grabbing a napkin and dabbing his mouth with it. "Are you alright?" He asks with a touch of concern before smiling. "It's good to know that you're protected, then. The idea of young women out so late in these sorts of neighborhoods… well…" He trails off there and stands up.

The bartender laughs lightly and nods, "You aren't the first person I've met that claims that." Raven gives him another bright smile for the additional tip, "Well, you aren't old." She gives him a faintly speculative look, "Why, I don't think you're any older than I am." She waves his concern off, "Oh, I'm fine. Just a migraine." She grimaces faintly, "I get them at least once a month or so." She just shrugs at his assesment of the neighborhood she works in, "I don't have any complaints about the neighborhood. It's better than where I grew up, anyway."

He can't help but laugh once more, nodding to Raven. "A fifteen year old referred to me as 'that old guy with the glasses' today. Not my proudest of moments, but one must perservere." Mischa straightens out his shirt and vest, brushing his pants off as he moves away from the stool. "It was a pleasure meeting you, and I thank you for the conversation. But for now, I should get a head start on that nap. The comfort of my couch beckons me. Have a good night and be safe, Miss." With that, he's moving out the door.

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