Poisons and Elixirs -open-

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white wyvern

Long shifts were always the hardest for Bran O’Reilly. While he liked this job for the social contact it offered, it was BECAUSE the social contact that he had trouble keeping up. He loved people and he loved flirting with them. However having to be around a room full of humans the entire night, triggered his vampire senses. The heartbeats… the smells… He could tell apart which perfume or aftershave someone was wearing. But it didn’t mask the smell of sweat and blood flowing through their veins. Just a few more hours, he told himself. He took a deep breath despite not needing it. Sometimes he just did so to fool himself and other, thinking he was still human. The next customer approached the bar and Bran greeted them with a big welcoming grin. “Name your poison and I’ll make it for you, cutie,” he said with a playful wink.
 

 

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Long shifts were a way of life for this disgraced and damaged father. He was more than a bit of a workaholic, even now he was in the army instead of just the ministry. Actually, he was sure he was worse now, though he'd never admit it as being a bad thing. Working now meant he wasn't clawing through his memories trying to pick apart that day. The day that ruined his life, that cost him everything. Though that was almost a year ago now. He was recovered by ministry standards, or so they thought anyway.

Now it was his job to defend witches and wizards against the other beings. Against werewolves, veela and vampires. Speaking of vampires, he was unknowingly being served by one as he traipsed into the white wyvern. He raised an eyebrow at the greeting he received from someone who to him appeared at least a decade younger than him. He cocked his head ever so slightly to the left before straightening it. "Whiskey." he replied simply, always preferring straight liquors rather than mixing drinks.

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Bran smirked as he customer looked at him. Handsome bloke, he wouldn't mind it if he stuck around the entire evening. The bartender nodded. He wanted to ask for a specific brand and if he wanted ice. But he'd gotten well at matching people with their drinks through the years. "Here you go, handsome, one strong flavored Whiskey, no ice. You look like you could use this," he winked as he handed the man an extra full glass. He leaned against the bar, shooting the older looking man a flirting look. Sometimes he got tips from it, sometimes sex and sometimes a punch in the face. Either would do, he liked it all. The distraction was welcomed. If he could focus on flirting he could get his mind of the heartbeats and other distracting factors in the room. "Rough day, sweetheart?" It was too early for an over to release some steam, perhaps later. Bran was always in the mood, he was still stuck in the party life. Hadn't he become a vampire he'd be dead before his 30s.

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Carson watched the other man carefully as the drink was made. He didn't trust anyone at the best of times, at a place like this he was even less inclined to trust. He'd never really been a trusting person, the loss of his baby girl just making his trust issues worse, he barely even trusted his own sons anymore. "Thank you." he did respond though as he was given the drink. His eyes narrowed for a moment at the bartender's further flirtation, but he wouldn't completely turn it down. He looked over Bran as he leaned against the bar, sipping his whiskey as he did.

"you could say that." he replied to the question, thinking over it for a moment before adding, "Doesn't look like your day is going fantastic either." he nodded, glancing about before letting his gaze once more fall onto Bran's face. Carson had to admit he was rather attractive, attractive enough to perhaps lead to something once the other man's shift was over. Maybe.

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"Ohh scary," he grinned when the guest narrowed his eyes at him. Such a broody dangerous looking man. Bran liked a little scary adventure occasionally. It was fun, a little trill kept him alive aside from blood that was. The bartender made a little drink from himself not that it'd do much to get him drunk. It was just to socialize and make the guest(s) feel comfortable. Comfort was hard to be found in places like Knockturn, he'd like to offer a little bit of love in these heartless streets.

"Sorry to hear 'bout that, hun. Whatcha say? Let's make the night better," he winked. When the man pointed out his day instead. Bran shrugged. "Could be better could be worse. I love my job but of course I'd prefer to spend my night jamming my guitar or with some intimate company." With a nice glass of blood to top it off. But he didn't add that even if he was rather thirsty, he doubted this man would let him feed of him. This one didn't seem like the type although Bran could only imagine how good he'd taste.