20300/Hey you've got a vampire in your club

Hey you've got a vampire in your club
Date of Scene:	24 March 2025
Location:	Club Darkesque
Synopsis:	Blade and Alison escape a club of vampires out to get them
Cast of Characters:	Eric Brooks, Alison Blaire

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Eric Brooks has posed:
Some days, Blade is a vampire slayer. Those days are pretty straightforward. Pick a fight, kill some things. Wash, rinse, repeat. Maybe set an ambush if he's feeling plucky. On other days, he's a vampire hunter. This is the latter.

Vampire hunting is less satisfying than a good ol' night of slaying, that's for damn sure. He loves a good stalk as much as the next carnivorous predator, make no mistake, but the return he gets on the time he invests doesn't bring him the same sense of accomplishment, even if whoever he's stalking is a particularly nasty specimen.

This one definitely is. Randy is a pretty innocuous name for a vampire that's been preying on the homeless, particularly young people, for almost five decades. Randy is his real name, too. While Blade doesn't have a last name, he traded an awful lot of punches in exchange for 'Randy', so it damn well better be right.

He's followed Randy into a cookie-cutter techno club he's fairly certain is either named Club Don'tCare or Club Doesn'tMatter. He glowers around at the crowd balefully, even though no one's paying attention to him. He's seen hundreds of these places, it feels like. After a while, they all start to look the same. Dimly lit, if you don't count the strobe lights. Somehow smoky, despite smoking indoors having been banned around a million years ago in New York. And, of course, the music. An ungodly (to Blade) rotation of dubstep, glitch-hop, trance, house, trap, and many more, often smashed together. The only upside is that all of his leather and silver don't really stand out amidst so many people dressed at least as strangely, if not moreso.

Blade lets out a soft, resigned sigh and dives into the club, sniffing for his prey. Luckily, almost everyone here seems almost completely human, so trailing Randy to the club's VIP area isn't difficult. Now all he has to do is figure out which of the bottle service alcoves his baddie has parked in. Fingers crossed, he'll be in one that offers a bit of privacy and discretion.

Alison Blaire has posed:
Alison Blaire steps out on stage at Club Darkesque for her last set wearing a blood red lil skirt and blood red lil top, which isn't the best idea, but this club had a late night gig she was trying to squeeze in, but it's been a weird time since she's been here tonight. All the patrons all over the club are kinda seedy and don't seem to be enjoying the music but stare at her anyway, plus they don't have much energy. The place is kinda dead (lol). Alison slogs on despite these strange people because she's been hired to be a pop star and she's used to the unusual.

"Everybody ready for more!" Alison calls out, "Let's go!" she recommends.

Most of those near Blade probably give him the narrowed eyes, because almost everybody in here in kinda his type, so to speak. Somehow, Alison has landed smack dab in the middle of Strange Central, but the speakers play some bopping music with a rhythmic beat, so she's at least okay alone on stage. She continues singing as she heads to the deadly edge of the stage, unaware of the dangerous crowd. Club Darkesque has rotating lights on stage, which can be seen trying to cut through the smoke and dense air of seedy-ness. Blade's trackable pal has friends in this place, for sure, though Alison is unaware of him or Blade himself really, because of how smokey and dark it kinda is. In the opposite way, she kinda sticks out though because of her clothes and the lights. Maybe the customer recommended this outfit to her, and set her up to be quite a showcase for the club, SO TO SPEAK. Uh oh!

Eric Brooks has posed:
The closer he gets, the easier it is for Blade to pick up the scent. Even surrounded by clouds of vape smoke and guys wearing too much Axe body spray (and really, isn't any amount too much?) he can still smell the vamp he's been dogging all night. Even when the waters become muddied by the presence of more vampires, Blade isn't concerned. Far from it. With a fierce grin, he runs the tip of his tongue along one of his sharp canines as approaches the first private table. Empty. Lowering his sunglasses, he looks at a glass that's been drained, but the ice within hasn't even begun to melt. He's close. Very close.

He follows Randy's trail away from the VIP area and toward the stage, growing more impatient with every step. When his eyes flit across the performer and past her, they stop almost immediately.

A few heartbeats later, Blade's gaze sweeps across the singer again, this time more slowly. He arches an eyebrow at the sight of her attire, then discards the idea of this being a hunt. At best, tonight has become a proper slaying expedition. At worst (and seeming more likely by the moment) he's about to be on anti-vampire VIP protection detail.

"At least she looks good in red," he mutters, his eyes alert and mobile once again. Now he's not just looking for Randy as he moves toward the stage, he's looking for anything. Everything. All the things.

Alison Blaire has posed:
"You're right buddy, but stay for the post show," one of the seedy patrons tells Blade as he overhears his comments, "Should be a good time. If you're hungry," he explains.

Meanwhile, Alison continues singing despite the danger, shifting in front on the stage in her blood red high heels. She looks down at the patrons in the first row, maybe wondering why some of them wear sunglasses indoors. It's another strange thing to add to this night.

Alison turns about during the interlude, but she dances by herself because she conveniently doesn't have back up dancers tonight. She looks at the left of the stage at those in the VIP area, remembering her directions to give them some attention while on stage. She smiles brightly at those there, a few seedy goers fit in well with the other seedy patrons here tonight.

After the interlude, Alison points at the three people in the VIP area and starts up the chorus to the song again, as it nears completion. The VIP area probably has the most high profile people in the whole club but that's obvious from appearances.

Eric Brooks has posed:
Blade's eyes narrow visibly, even through his dark lenses. "As far as you're concerned, I'm a vegetarian."

This elicits a baffled expression, which means the vampire dies with a stupid look on his face, dissolving instantly into ash as Blade pulls back a wicked-looking silver knife. It's surprisingly discreet, especially considering the environment. Nobody's that smooth, though. Someone sees something, and while it's hard to know how much, it's enough that a woman's angry voice raises an outcry.

Blade has already ducked into the crowd, but like slamming your brakes on the highway, his presence has a ripple effect that starts slow and travels outward. Aware he's running out of time before everyone figure out who and where he is, he changes tactics and makes a more direct approach toward the stage. There's no way to get a read on a group of this size and guess what they'll do; the best he can hope for is to put himself in their path.

Alison Blaire has posed:
"What was that?" someone asks after Blade offs the stupid vampire asking too many questions, but his pals come over and ask, "Hey where's Fred?"

"Do we know that guy?" yet another asks.

Alison continues the last part of the song, walking away from the VIP area near the edge of the stage, back to the front. She concludes the song and says, "Thank you!" she says into the mic. There are a few golf clabs.

Alison turns toward the stairs, but they are blocked by a couple of seedy large men, "Time for an encore," one of them suggests. Alison frowns at that comment and answers, "Uhh I don't think so," she replies. Alison backs up as the two men clomp up the stairs threateningly.

Eric Brooks has posed:
"Oh, grrrreat." Blade lets out a sound that's half growl, half irritated sigh. Then, after throwing an elbow to buy himself some space, he springs out of the crowd and clears the last twenty feet to the stage, skipping the steps and coming to a skidding halt next to Alison. "Hey, Red. Lookin' good. Here's the rundown: Vampires are real. This place is crawling with them. I'm about a hundred and ten percent sure they all got invited to snack on you by-"

Finally, Randy makes his appearance, jumping up onto the opposite end of the stage. He doesn't look like much. Then again, neither did Deacon Frost. Randy has the same, lank, unkempt brown hair. Gaunt almost to the point of being scrawny. Unsavory grin and an ill-looking gleam in his eye.

"--by that fuckin' guy." Blade finishes. Then, being a peerless mentor at heart, he gives his go to pre-vampire pep talk as he reverses his grip on the wicked silver knife, offering the hilt to 'Red'. "Pointy end goes in the other guy's chest. You hear me? The chest. And don't get bitten. I'll have to kill you and it'd be a shame to ruin that outfit."

They're out of time. After weighing his options and realizing he can't get to both Randy and the two burly vampires in one go, he ops for arithmetic. Roaring a lion's challenge, he throws himself at the pair of larger vamps, with all three hitting the floor in a dogpile.

Alison Blaire has posed:
"Hey! He's helping our snack! Get him!" one or two of them say as they try to climb on stage with Randy the Snack Meister. They point threateningly at Blade.

Alison frowns at Blade and maybe also what he's saying, "But what's the good news?" she wonders. She steps back further as the two goons make it up on stage and Blade tackles them.

Alison turns toward Randy and his two pals then raises her hands, "Eat this!" she shouts. Light shimmers out from her hands and sears the eyes of Randy and his friends, but they don't crumble into dust. They are really annoyed though and stop to rub their eyes, "Crap! It didn't work! They didn't die!" Alison yells. She looks at her hands, "Oh my gawd, why didn't I study radiology..."

Eric Brooks has posed:
Blade likes headbutting things. I mean really, really likes it. Not only is it a savagely effective close-quarters combat technique, it feels personal. Truly, a peerless way of telling someone to go fuck themselves. As such, he grabs one of his adversaries by the collar and slams his forehead into the big vampire's face, breaking his nose and knocking him out. "Good news? I don't do good news."

Unfortunately, this repartee provides the other guy a chance to take a bite of Blade's shoulder, which the half-vampire responds to poorly. Drawing a pistol, he pumps a few silver hollow-points into Vamp 1, then a single round into the still-unconscious Vamp 2, reducing them both to dust.

When he hears Alison's plight and sees the flash, he picks himself up, levels his weapon, and starts firing into the advancing horde. He's no scientist, but he makes an educated guess. "Whatever that was, do it again! This time, burn hot. Not bright, hot!"

Alison Blaire has posed:
Alison Blaire glances at Blade and frowns, "Hot? I don't understand," she wonders curiously about this strategy. She raises her hands at Randy and his friends again advance on Blade and Alison, seemingly recovered and ready to attack them. The light burns them, and she turns her head slightly as she takes them out, albeit very slowly. She frowns at the sight of burning them to ash with the hot light. "Hot light...I got it..." she mutters.

Alison turns her head as she regards Blade, "Are you okay? Uhh there's more coming up the stairs..." she tells Blade, "Um, can you fly us out of here?" she asks.

Eric Brooks has posed:
With methodical precision, Blade empties half of his magazine. It's almost leisurely, but each shot is effective. When he hears the question regarding flight, he initially lets out a derisive snort. Then he pauses thoughtfully, glancing at the lofted ceiling. There's a skylight. It's not large, and its at least thirty feet up. He glances at Alison, mentally gauging her weight. Then he nods. "Yes."

That's it. Just 'yep'. He lifts his pistol again, but this time to fire the last of his shots through the glass above them. It's not enough to blow it out, but should weaken it enough. Probably. He holds an arm out to 'Red' and beckons her in. "Come here! Grab on to me tight, tuck your face in. Hurry!"

Alison Blaire has posed:
Alison Blaire mutters disappointedly, "Okay Batman," she tells him, "I thought you had wings," she tells him as the rest of the crowd in front of the stage climbs up and advances on Alison and Blade.

"But I can deal with these guys," Alison reminds Blade but two more clomp up the stairs and three others start climbing up from the VIP lounge. "Uhh well maybe not all of them..." she comments blandly.

Alison grabs onto Blade and puts her arms around him as directed, "Go! Go!" she urges.

Eric Brooks has posed:
"I like your moxie, but let's practice later. Now brace-brace-brace!" Blade cups a gloved hand against the back of Alison's head, pulling her face in tighter against his chest. Then, after one more glare at Randy, he springs straight up in the air from a standstill.

For a second, it almost seems like they might not make it. This is further than he's ever tried to leap while carrying another person. But they do, with just enough momentum to bust through the glass and tumble onto the roof. Blade is a bit the worse for wear, having taken some cuts and scratches, but he doesn't seem slowed down by it. He rolls from his stomach onto his back, taking a moment to catch his breath, also not appearing perturbed by the sounds of vampires attempting to climb up after them. "You okay, Red? Still got all your pieces?"

Alison Blaire has posed:
Alison gets up from the roof and slices Blade's rope with a light beam, sending one of the vampires tumbling back down, "Are you sure they can't fly up here?" she explains, then checks herself for injuries as Blade worries about her, "Uhh yes...? I'm okay..." she comments.

"Let's get off this roof," Alison suggests, "Quickly...right?" she asks.