flick on your loosest tooth with your tongue

[bonhomme7h.livejournal.com]

Who: Réjean and Anna
What: Meeting, chatting, and an introduction to the Baedal vampire community.
Where: A thoroughly filthy dive bar.
When: Newdi night.
Warnings: For now, expect language.

The Crown and Tiger is a low-slung, semi-basement type of establishment where the only thing stickier than the bar is the floor. Among it's other qualifications -- such as the walls, floor, and upholstery, all being a similarly mysteriously stained brown -- the owner doesn't mind trading favours with Réjean and that alone is worth his patronage.

After speaking to Nuala and setting up a time and place, Réjean can be found sitting in a quiet booth with the paper and occasionally checking his CiD.

Comments

[indiscreet]

Anna is over-dressed for the place -- she wouldn't dream of being anything else -- but notably unbothered by the grime; god only knew it was no worse than some of the joints that had thought to compete with Doyle's speakeasy, back in Chicago.

Still, she can't help but be ever so slightly irked that someone as influential as Nuala claims Réjean to be couldn't be bothered to find someplace where at least her shoes wouldn't make that unpleasant sticking noise as she walked. In a moment of defiance, she pulls at the world around her, willing it to worship her.

That has to be him, in the far booth. Anna walks over (a bit of a sashay, really; she can't help herself) and slides in across from him, crossing her ankles in a fluid completion of the movement.

"Réjean Sept-Heure, I presume?" Her voice has the subtle inflection of someone who has trained herself out of an accent.