Home of the Damned ::open::

[MITCHELL TORRENCE BRIDGES.]

The long day was finally winding down, leaving Mitchell tired, hungry, and with heavy pockets. He had learned early on that people always fell for the same tricks and having perfected his favorites, it was nearly impossible to catch the trickery within the magic. Although using real magic did help with that.

Heading to his favorite place in the entire town, he nodded to a few familiar faces, and pulled open the door to the inn. Letting a few pretty young ladies enter before him, Mitchell smiled and took his usual place at the end of the bar.

He didn't utter a word as he placed his coins on the bar and a beer was slid in front of him. The man had been to the bar too many times. Being a fixture was not something he was proud of, but it made ordering drinks much easier. He didn't have to wait like most customers and the bartender always stocked the alcohol he liked.

Mitchell swiveled in his seat, propping his elbows on the bar, and grabbed his beer. He had been in the town for quite some town and, yet, he still hadn't managed to form a bond with most of the people in the town. Which was the reason he spent most of his time drinking alone.

Or people watching. Having lived longer than the average person, the ninety year old had watched all sorts of people live their lives. Most of the time nothing interesting happened, but sometimes he found a rather interesting life to follow.

In this town, he had spotted something different right away. The town was infested with the supernatural. Most towns had maybe one werewolf and a vampire would pass through, but here these creatures lived amongst the humans as if they belonged there. And the magical energy, it was strong.

The town had kept his attention long enough that he had actually found himself looking for a house rather than staying in the inn. Downing the rest of his beer, he picked up the full glass waiting for him and took another drink.

Yes, he liked the town. Meaning Mitchell would have to start talking to people rather than just watching.

[CHARLOTTE 'LOTTIE' MARIE CARR]

As the relaxing moment proceeded the doors opened to a sultry lady. She looked mildly evil, actually, but it was truly just her greed overflowing capacity. She wasn't that bad. True, she was superficial, egotistical, greedy, and a few more choice words, but deep down she was a little bit nicer. She gave a penny to a beggar once.. Regardless, many people in this inn's bar stopped and turned their heads as she entered. It wasn't because she was that beautiful, although she was quite pretty, but it was because of how people knew her. She was the headmistress at the brothel not so far away. However fabulous and wealthy she was, she was considered outcast due to her business. That being said, they shortly got over it, since she was here and they weren't there and that was socially acceptable.

She seemed to have a mission, for as soon as she stepped in a few paces she began glaring around. It wasn't until she saw a man in the back corner of the room, one among three or four, but the only one hiding his face from her, that she began to move again. Her scandalous black dress shuffled from her step as she advanced toward him. She proceeded to get right up in his face with a pointed finger. It wasn't normal for this lady to be the one on such a task, but it just fell into place that way. Without a second lost she said, "You owe twenty more, or had you forgotten? It's been nearly a weekend ago. I enforce interest, too, to those who aren't in the habit of treating my girl's nicely. Or had you forgotten that too?" Her voice had a bit of a bouncy accent to it, as if she had been around too many Irishmen. With that she held out her hand, palm flat and facing up, and stood tall with such a grace and elegance that one would hardly expect her to be in such a business.

But what she said, the man's secret was now released. Not only had he visited the brothel, but he had deliberately mistreated a young lady. No matter how despicable those ladies were to some of the world, treating them poorly here was frowned upon. Eyes were now on the man, not her. He fished through his pockets to find the rest of the money. When he found it, he reluctantly paid and immediately left.

That being done, Ms. Charlotte sauntered over to the bar. She needed a drink. Happily the bartender said they indeed had white wine, her favorite. She leaned on the stood, but did not sit for her dress was a tad too tight up top, and she didn't want to look unlady like. She eyed the man sitting next to her. "Have I see you before?" she asked him with a raised eyebrow. It was more of a 'I'm surprised that I haven't' question. Which was really the only reason she asked, because she didn't recognize him, but she knew most other people in town.

[MITCHELL TORRENCE BRIDGES.]

Just as Mitchell was about to call it a night, the most interesting thing happened. A scantly dressed woman had entered the bar, many of the other patrons also noticing the woman. He had seen her once when passing the brothel, and unlike the townspeople, he saw nothing wrong with this. It wasn't like his profession was the most holy either.

Eyes trained on the woman, the man glanced at the man she had approached, not much interested in him. Her movements were much more interesting. She was fierce, she didn't need anyone to protect her. What could be more interesting to watch? Mitchell had met many women who couldn't even walk around outside without the assistance of a man.

The man she had approached paid his dues and quickly bolted of the inn, probably the smartest thing he could have done. Upon the woman's approach, the ninety year old swiveled back to the bar, tapping on the wood for another beer to be sent his way. Now that something was happening there was no need to retire for the night just yet.

Mitchell kept his gaze on his dwindling beer, smiling a little as the bartender dropped another glass in front of him. It was obvious this woman had a commanding presence, but that didn't mean he would be giving her that satisfaction. He had been around enough pretty woman throughout his many years and he would make her no different.

But when she questioned if she had seen him before, the young looking man tilted his head toward her. Placing a small, polite smile on his lips, he faced the rest of his body toward her. "I don't think so. Have you heard of the Mighty Salvador? That's me, I perform magic in the square. But you may call me Mitchell. What might I call you?" He asked, giving her another once over.

He had understood the inflection of her question, knowing that most didn't know who he was. He was very good at blending. Also he had never ventured into the brothel, paying for pleasure had never been his style.

[CHARLOTTE 'LOTTIE' MARIE CARR]

As the man spoke she sipped her wine in a manor that proved too regal for her own good. She glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. "Sorry," she said in reply to his first question, "I'm not in habit with mingling in the streets." In more polite words she was saying that she'd never heard of such a street performer. On any given day that might have interested her, or at least fakely so, however today her emotions were high wrung, and she was non-too fascinated with such a job.

"What might I call you?" he asked. She wanted to laugh, but then she remembered that some people were also not in the habit of striking up normal gossiping conversations about people at the brothel. "My name is Ms Charlotte Carr. You can call me Ms Charlotte." The last sentence had more of a bite to it than anything. For one thing she was mocking him for telling her to call him by a so familiarly normal name. And why should she tell him to call her by her nickname? If he's a smart one he'll figure it out himself. But somehow she didn't expect him to.

"And if you wanted to perform on the streets, sir, why not join the circus? At least then you'd have company. I hear they're a restless bunch..." she trailed off with obvious condescending views toward the circus. Though some circus members happened to be great supporters of her humble business. It wasn't that she didn't like the circus so much that she'd never really bothered to waste the time or the money. No, wasting her change to see freaks fly in the air seemed least intriguing.

"Anyway," she said with a flip of her hair and another sip of her wine, "You must be one of a small handful of gentlemen in this town that I've not had the pleasure of meeting. It seems that very few don't want to visit such a.. quaint little business." Now she was just taunting. She wasn't just taunting Mitchell, but every other pig of a man she'd ever met, along with any other man that was listening. But now Charlotte relaxed with her wine again and eyed the small crowd in the room.

[MITCHELL TORRENCE BRIDGES.]

Eyebrow cocked at the woman's fairly demeaning response, Mitchell took another swig of his beer. If she did not want to talk, she didn't have to strike up the conversation. Didn't she remember, she had been the one to speak to him. But instead of saying this, he nodded at her name.

"Pleasure is all mine," He stated dryly, turning himself toward the bar, hoping this might stop the conversation that had been started with the less than pleasant young lady. She may have looked older than him, but Mitchell looked good for a ninety year old. Extremely good.

Turning his head slightly, the wizard scoffed at the mention of the circus. He liked the circus sure, but he was not about to join another one. He had seen his fair share of talentless hacks pass through the circus tents and the idea of knowing he could do every trick better than said people had caused his aversion to working for the circus. He did like the elephants though. And contortionists. They were always a good time.

"I'm not a people person." Clearing his throat, Mitchell tossed a condescending smile on his lips. There it was. The mention of the brothel. He had known it would come up. If this Ms. Charlotte worked there it was bound to come up. "I don't have to pay for pleasure. I can do just fine all on my own. Why? Do you have to pay for it?" He questioned, his voice light and airy.

He did not want to start trouble, but if this woman was going to be rude, well then, his respect for woman could not stop him from being a bit snarky. "And what do you do there? Besides clean up the mess." The wizard nodded his head in the direction in the man she had humiliated had been sitting.

[CHARLOTTE 'LOTTIE' MARIE CARR]

Charlotte crossed her arms. "Do I have to pay for it? Please. Men pay big money for me, sir. And I only take the best." Technically this meant she was beating around the question. For as long as she could remember, Lottie hadn't ever done any of that stuff for free. This had a lot to do with her personality. She'd hardly talked to anyone outside of the brothel, and she didn't really speak then either. And to clear the air a little, she wasn't in habit of doing any of that sort except for the wealthiest of the wealthy. She was by no means one of the whores in her brothel.

"As a matter of fact," she said in obvious annoyance, "I plan most everything that happens. My dear Lucius basically just hires our workers. He likes to think his job's important.." Which truly his job was. There was a lot of responsibility as headmaster, but she wouldn't believe it. "Not to mention I am the mother figure." This wasn't meant to make him laugh, but it was partially a joke, true. She was a little too.. rude to be considered motherly. They were quite the interesting sort of family. Charlotte was a werewolf, her business partner was a vampire who hated her guts, and however greedy and commanding she was, she and her girls got along quite well, and she was always on stand by for some serious business if one of them came to her with a problem. This was the general basics for all brothels she had ever heard of. All headmistresses had a motherly connection with their girls.

She didn't appreciate how this man was speaking to her. He sounded too powerful, and she wasn't in the habit of letting men take her power. She was just as qualified as men, if not more, to handle anything and everything they could. Any man who denied that would pay. She was quite the vicious character, so denying Charlotte her rights would be, in short, giving up their lives. Werewolves gotta eat! True they were supposed to live off the animals and whatnot in the forest, but Charlotte didn't mind bending the rules a little.