18476/Intervention of a Vampire

Intervention of a Vampire
Date of Scene:	01 July 2024
Location:	Chelsea
Synopsis:	A bunch of vampire fledglings that caught wind of the bounty on Caleb come for him at a movie theater. Dracula, pissed off at the raucousness, evens the odds for the young Gothamite.
Cast of Characters:	Caleb Dykstra, Dracula

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Caleb Dykstra has posed:
New York, Chelsea District. Nightime.

It was to let off some steam regarding last weeks' events that Caleb went out of his way in Happy Harbor that he came all the way to have a look at a movie before this went out of the theaters - not many exhibitions left, so that's why he went to Chelsea.

Going into the theater, Caleb pays for a ticket, and takes a seat. Looking around, he sees there are not many people here... It's kinda empty, even.

Which is normal for when a movie is about to be pulled from the big screen. Oh, well.

Dracula has posed:
Being Chelsea, this is more of an arthouse theater in one of the nicest neighborhoods in New York City. Linked to the New York school of arts, they show student films and animations from some of the young talent, but they have smaller venue showings after a film has run it's course where one might enjoy an early evening viewing.

Which is what brings Dracula to the cinema.

The film itself is of little important, but for the sake of clarity is titled 'The minds of men'. A rather drawl reel on the dangerous of heroin use. Vlad sits near the back of the near empty theatre, craddling his cheek in the curve of his thumb with two fingers tracing towards his pointed right ear. While his by no means fixated on the project, he's been a fan of the cinema since it's initial introduction.

And is amongst a few wealthy benefactors who silently reside on the board of trustees.

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
But, lo and behold, there are a few more that have entered the room - a whole group of individuals that look barely just out of their teens who're wearing some goth-styled garbs, hairs, piercings, fingernails, the works. And they're not even particularly quiet about it, laughing and talking as they hold their drinks and popcorn on their hands.

Caleb looks over their shoulder for a moment, raising an eyebrow. He notices Vlad, far more silent, and returning to look at the screen, he starts to consider...

Aren't these goth guys a little out of place, here? Why would such a movie attract their attention to come see it?

He looks at the group again, to find out they're taking their seats about three rows to the back. Two of them, a guy with spikey hair and a girl with white hair are looking straight at him. The girl, she sorta grins, and offers him a wink.

This raises a few alarms in Caleb's head. And, given recent events, he pulls out a chewing gum, which he chews...

And glues to a small dagger, with a small mirror on it, and discretely points the surface in their direction...

Dracula has posed:
What was going to be a quiet evening at the cinema has become a egregious mix of unfamiliar faces and loud, obnoxious, youths. Green eyes, rimmed in blood red circles about the iris', turn torwards the Gothic company and Vlad knows instantly what they are. Even if they were master vampires, he'd sense them. But these are no master vampires.. these are barely fledgling. Not yet powerful enough to have connected to some of the senses where they would know him for who, and what, he is.

He hadn't been particularly fond of the film anyways.

It was derivative, formless. Stumbling around ideas without every making a clear point for any of them. Over the years he'd become something of a critique for cinema, as he had be for all forms of art. There was just something new and grandular about film when it first sprang into being... From the silent era to the modern media. Dracula appreciated it... which is why he made these excursions and why he donated hundreds of thousands a year to the board of trustees despite having never even seen the campus.

Now his night is being interrupted by children. Child vampires born of children.. dressing in a style that was ALSO inspired by him. It very nearly infuriated him, that he sat only a hundred feet from these abominations and they hadn't even looked in his direction... To say he was offended is an understatement. So he watches, far more interested in what's happening with the unknown behind whom these useless wastes were seated than the predictable plot playing out on the screen.

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
The fledglings really aren't all that much, not if they can't even spot Caleb spotting them through his trick. Vlad would likely notice it, when the mirror reaches his direction.

Still, as he just remains there, watching them with perhaps the subtlest hint of annoyance (yet boiling inside), Caleb factors in he's not with them.

Now, how to approach this situation? Well, he just does it the old-fashioned way... Directly.

"Hi there, fellas!" He looks and counts them - eight of them. "How's Mary Seward doing?"

They look among each other. "...Who?", one asks.

And he just knows they're not with her, nor are they of her. Now, second question, "Tell me... How much?"

One of them isn't very bright, because he does catch on, but still says, "...One mil!" Which makes every other look at him.

"Oh...", he replies. "Well, could this wait until the end of the movie? You're disturbing the audience." He nudges his Vlad's direction, whom they didn't even acknowledge.

Dracula has posed:
There is no Vlad in the reflection of the knife when it's angled back in his direction. This is important because when Caleb looks back at him, he very clearly sees the projector glent off the blade, so he knows that Caleb knows that. Nor is his expression anything, but a subtle indifference. Inside he's a growing furnace, yes, but outwardly it's mild curiosity. Annoyance? Yes, but they are interrupting his film, no matter how unentertaining it may have been.

The sudden and directness of Caleb's response to the 8 fledglings is, at least temporarily, interesting. As is the name he summons. His hand remains laid against his gaunt cheek, two fingers running up his jaw. Watching the interaction betwixt Caleb and younglings with interest that is rapidly cooling now that he knows this is only about 'money'.

With a sigh, Dracula stands from his seat and reaches into the one next to him where he'd laid his coat. He's dressed impressively.. it is debatable that the suit he's wearing could cost nearly half as much as the price on Caleb's head. "I'll give you the room. One million dollars.." He rolls his eyes and starts towards the exit.

Then stops. He stops and turns to face all of them. "No." Walking purposefully towards where all of them are seated, with one of the vampires standing up to come in his direction. Likely with some intent on harm that ends before it even begins when Dracula points his palm in the young creatures direction and he simply... freezes.. except the terror suddenly swirling in his eyes when he's completely unable to move.

The coat is laid across the back of the seat, upon which he leans to face the seven fledglings remaining. "One million dollars? Truly.. That is the price for embarrassing yourselves in a cinema? This is what I've spent half a millennia paving the way for you fuckers to spend your time?"

The woman with white hair stands up, but all Dracula has to do is look at her. It's not even a movement of his head, only the turn of his eyes in her direction. Fixing her in his steely gaze with the purposeful set of his jaw. All the fight is knocked out of her, withering her back into her seat. Shrinking away from him by shrinking down into the cushion as deeply as she's able.

"You pissy little shits." When he speaks it's wit a lisp accompany his Romanian accent, "Sitting there with your fifty dollar Hot Topic Type-O Negative t-shirts. How retro, how very avant garde.." He mocks them, pointing a claw in one of the five remainings direction, then at the one seated next to him. "You two. Kill each other."

Within the span of a minute, there's only three vampires. One frozen in place staring at the wall, one white haired female trying to become part of the furniture, and two clawing at each other's throat.

The remaining three... Vlad turns to Caleb.

"There. Have fun, boy." He grabs his coat and shakes it, drapes it across his arm, and starts towards the exit once more.

Caleb Dykstra has posed:
When Vlad gets up, he feels... He doesn't know what to feel, really? Relief because it would be one less a vampire he needs to deal with? Worry because this master vampire could kill them all before anyone could blink? But there's this impression in the back of his neck, like every alarm is ringing. His survival instincts are well active.

He's even transfixed when Vlad, about to depart, turns back and decides to deliver the verbal beatdown at the fleas that run from his very preternatural presence. He has to remind himself he's not them, that it's really not meant for him - and that thankfully he's not in their shoes.

When the vampires starts to tear at one another, Caleb covers and diverts his gaze; not for the horror, or the savagery, but to prevent any of that tainted blood from entering his system, whether the mouth, or the eyes. Who knows what could've happened? If these are the kind who become infected by giving their blood, the young Gothamite is taking no risks.

The carnage is over, and he looks at Vlad. "...T-Thank you." The stammer is not of fear, but certainly some measure of gratitude.

Okay, there might be a bit of fear. But can you really blame him?

He looks at the others, who are just as stunned as he is - a very human-like level of stunned. "Was that... Was that whom I think it was?"

Okay, Caleb! Snap out of it! Your'e not out of the woods yet!

"Ah, before I forget..." He pulls out a device from his pocket. "Here's a present for you!" After which, he immediately ducks.

And, just as the door closes behind Vlad, a UV flashbang can be heard detonating, followed by intense screaming and hissing.